#actually i hit some kind of limit a long while ago and never recovered

[doggytail-duck]

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[jarofstyles]

hey besties, pls do a football player Harry (soccer in case ur american lol) and physical therapist y/n !!

I know absolute shit all about football (soccer bc we are American) but we can give it a go!!! Plz don’t be mad I don’t know anything about it cause it’s ✨make believe ✨

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—-

He was a little shit.

A beautiful, charming, irritating, little shit.

When Y/N has signed on for this team, being the medic was something she had been passionate about for years. Having her own accident and making it so she couldn’t properly play anymore, it was her mission to still be involved in the game so how. Y/N’s own injury and healing process had her become more and more interested in the profession, and here she was.

It wasn’t everything she had dreamed of, as nothing ever was, but it was good. She got to sit field-side every game, close to the action. And every injury she got first look at. She helped the guys with their stretches, their previous injuries and keeping them from Re-injuring themselves, taking care of them and making sure their physical shape was the best it could be.

In general? She was happy. But there was one man who was a thorn in her side and a pain in her crotch.

Harry Styles.

The man who decided it was his personal mission to follow her around like a puppy dog. Popping up in her singular moments of peace during game day. Texting her and asking about very, very small twists of ankles and giving her the ‘🥺 maybe you should come and look at it…’ whenever he did so.

Not to mention his complete and utter want to get into her pants.

Now it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle a few sexual jokes. Y/N was a big girl and knew 99% of the time, the guys on the team knew their limit. And Harry? Harry, in reality, was a gentleman. Never touched her inappropriately, ever. But the problem was… she kind of wanted him to.

There was no actual clause against staff members and players being together or hooking up. Nope, just frowned upon. Maybe a slap on the wrist. However Y/N knew, she knew that the moment anyone caught wind of her potential affections for any team member or acting on it? It would end with everyone thinking she slept with them to get the job.

Y/N worked long and hard. Tireless hours for make sure these men were healthy, fit, and at their best. She wouldn’t sleep with anyone for any job, and she was actually respected by this team which was something a lot of women weren’t in this field. She could not and would not throw it away for a good dicking.

Fuck, did she want to sometimes.

—-

Harry had these hands. The perfect hands, in her opinion. Big, strong with thinner fingers. Long fingers. A good sized palm, not overly veiny, just perfection in male hand scales. Luckily (or unluckily, whatever way you’d put it) she got to handle them often.

“S’sore today, doc.” He winced, sitting on the table in front of her. Harry’s wrist throbbed. It was rainy, and it was usually a wreck when it was the perfect condition. The ache was annoying, and he knew she had a solution.

Her lips pouted softly as she gently took the hand in place, thumbing over the part of the wrist where rhe injury had occurred. She had learned a while ago where to press, how to rub and get it to lessen before she wrapped it up. “Yeah… old injuries tend to never let you forget.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up into her hair.

Harry never could get over how fucking gorgeous Y/N was. From her nose to her lips, the pretty sparkle in her eye, the curve of her hip… he was obsessed. Not to mention the fact that she was so gentle with him. So kind and sweet, though he knew he got on her nerves with his teasing sometime. She could handle it and he always tried to watch to make sure he wasn’t going too far, but he couldn’t help it.

He was a silly boy with a bit fat crush.

Y/N didn’t bite for any of them. Everyone had attempted when she first came on, testing the waters. Her pretty face was welcome to all the blokes in the team, and there was something incredibly attractive about a woman who could heal. Nonetheless, she never gave in to anything.

In Harry’s case, he knew it was different. He could see her smile at some jokes, see her get the bumps on her skin when he brushed her a certain way. But she avoided the eye contact. Avoided the touches. And it drove him mad.

Of course she wouldn’t know he had actual feelings for him because he was a giant coward most of the time. He hid his affection in the dirty jokes and the teasing squeezes of her waist and teasing. He was a thick skinned man but a full rejection form her would hurt.

Her soft fingers gently massaged over the wrist, making him groan. His head tilted back and he let it out, hissing slightly when she pressed too hard. “Oooh, don’t worry sweetheart. Y’know I like it to hurt a little.” His wide smirk made her roll her eyes huffing under her breath.

Y/N was not having a great day. She had been harassed by an Ex all fucking night over her new job. Making all the damn assumptions that she was getting ‘trained by the team’ in a much more vulgar way, and she had cried half the night. To say she wasn’t in the mood was an understatement, but she was trying.

Harry was not what she needed today, because it made her feel worse. Her blatant attraction to him made her feel guilty. She should be professional and leave it with. The way she had squeeze her legs tighter while he groaned didn’t help her case. The ugly words of how they’ only kept her around for a potential fuck’ was ringing in her head.

Harry though, he was a little oblivious. Her hands were so talented, and he didn’t watch her face for once as she hit a good spot again and he let out another remark.

“Jesus, that’s good. Do those magic hands work everywhere?”

That was the straw that broke her. It wasn’t his fault necessarily, he was just playing. But her eyes watered, hand yanking away as she turned from him, walking over to the bench. Trying to compose herself was hard as the tears burned so hard in her eyes, hands shaking slightly.

Harry startled, not used to that. She never flinched away like that, never ignored his remark and walked away. Usually told him to fuck off, rolled her eyes, something. But the energy in the room immediately shifted and he was uncomfortable. What had happened?

Cautiously, he cleared his throat and stood up from the bench, licking over his dry lips as he spoke again. “Uh… Y/N?”

“S’all I’m good for, right?” She muttered under her breath. Frantically wiping under her eyes she tried to focus on the paper in front of her but she could feel Harry approaching.

He furrowed his brow, not sure if he heard correctly. “Wha-“

Y/N whipped around fast, eyes teary and wet. “I said, that’s all I’m good for right? Only good for my hands and sex and all that pleasure you can get from me?” She hissed. “Only good for a romp in the sheets and a pretty face to heal your wounds and put on band aids. Only good to make you get off and feel good and then what? I’m left here with nothing.”

The tears left her, her hands shaking as she grabbed her bag. Harry felt his stomach drop. Never, ever had he wanted to make her feel like that. Her crying? That wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. He felt like he had taken a ball to the gut, hard. Those eyes he adored being full of pain, full of tears was his own personal hell.

“Y/N… wait, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ he tried to follow her to the door, stopping abruptly when she lifted a hand up to him. Her stomping had made him nervous. Now she was leaving without talking to him and he felt like a complete dick. It was their normal teasing, but he had crossed a line.

“Don’t. Just…. Just leave me alone. I’m going home.”

—-

As much as Harry had wanted to chase after her, he had already made her cry once. He wasn’t risking it again.

The icky, gross feeling in his stomach followed him all day. He was gutted. Not only has he apparently crossed a line with someone he respected, he had a fucking crush on her. The man was convinced no other feeling was worse than a crush being angry at him. Even if it sounded juvenile to place it like that.

Harry liked Y/N. He never ever wanted to make her upset in any capacity, let alone feeling like a sex object or violated. He prided himself on respecting women. And he had fucking failed. He needed to make it right, and fast.

-

He had found her address. In her employee file, and he knew that was bad but he needed to check on her. Regardless of what happened beforehand, she was upset by him enough to leave and go home and he wanted to make sure she was genuinely okay.

It was an overstep and Harry knew it. He had to try, though.

He arrived at her door step with a box of cupcakes and some flowers. Gently kicking the floor, he heard the door open and his heart broke a little more.

Y/N standing in front of him with swollen eyes. She had been crying, seemingly a lot. And she looked upset still. Though he expected her to close the door in his face and tell him to fuck off. But she didn’t.

Instead, she broke into tears again, throwing herself into his chest. Her arms wrapping around his waist, he nearly tumbled over but righted himself as he startled. Quickly he found himself recovering, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her. He was able to maneuver slightly and drop the cupcakes on her entry table, flowers as well before having his arms free.

“Hey…. Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He whispered softly, gently placing a hand on her back. Rubbing it up and down, letting her cry into his tee shirt. It was worrying. Whatever happened was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to let that take away from the fact he had added and made it worse.

“I’m sorry.” Her muffled response was sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry for yelling… and saying you thought those things, you were playing and I…” she pulled back worth tear streaked cheeks and Harry’s look of pure concern making her lip wobble. “You didn’t do it. It was… he kept sayin’ that all the team wants is in my pants, and you make me feel guilty because you’re so…. Beautiful, and I never slept with anyone to get this job! Never. And then he wouldn’t leave me alone-“ she hiccuped, looking up at Harry as he caressed the back of her head.

“Who, lovely? Who wouldn’t leave you alone?” He asked with a calm tone. Of course he wasn’t. Someone was harassing her. And Harry would fucking take care of it. It boiled his blood to think of someone making her feel less than.

“My ex.” She sniffled again, slowly calming. Harry had that quality, she thinks. “He-He broke up with me for taking the job. Said… said that I was going to be a personal whore for all of you. And not do my job.” She took a shuddery breath. It was embarrassing admitting this to him, but he had been on the receiving end for a meltdown that wasn’t his to fix.

“Well, can I tell you something?” He brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the sticky tears from her cheeks. “You arent. You’re no one’s whore. You’re a respected, talented and intelligent member of our staff. You so happen to be incredibly beautiful, which obviously makes people find you more bewitching… but I know that we all look at you as a professional talent. They may have tried their luck at the beginning but you laid down the law quickly and they all understood.” He whispered.

“Me? I was trying my luck, because you’re incredible. And I think you’re lovely. But that isn’t a conversation for now. Let’s make some tea, hm? Relax. I brought you some cupcakes. I need to properly apologize for being inappropriate to you. Regardless if it was a joke…”

—

He sat next to her on her couch. The poor girl was better now, washing her face and a mug of tea in hand while Harry had helped himself to a vase and put the flowers inside. Carnations. He thought they were pretty, didn’t know the name until Y/N had fawned over them.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” She said softly, her big sweatshirt swallowing her up. Before Harry could interrupt, she put a finger up. “I know that you were just playing, Harry. I let you flirt with me like that. And I enjoy it.” She could feel herself get warm in the face. “If you’ve noticed, I let you get away with it. I enjoy it. And you didn’t do anything out of line. I was sensitive… I was still raw and I hadn’t had much sleep because he had blown up my phone and regardless he was telling me things he said in person over and over again. So…” Y/N shifted in her seat and used her sweater paws to bring the drink to her lips. “When you came in… I felt guilty for finding you attractive. For liking what you said to me.”

Harry sat for a moment, quiet. So she had liked it…. And felt guilty. Now knowing the context? It made sense. For the life of him he was trying not to hold in to the fact that she enjoyed it, but he couldn’t. It made him excited.

“Okay. That makes sense. Usually.. I do a better job at reading your physical cues. Sometimes I can see something isn’t the right thing to say because you’re tense already. But I was in my own world cause you were making the pain go away and I felt good. It isn’t an excuse, though.” He gently grabbed her hand once she set down her warm tee, thumbing over the knuckles.

“I felt like such a dick. I still do. You know that? And it isn’t because I’m attracted to you. But it’s because I didn’t think about the position I’m putting you in by flirting.” He moved a little closer. “I would never try and jeopardize your job. I’ve been blinded by my own feelings for a while and I was trying to feel it out but I didn’t think to think it was because someone else or a group of people would look down at you for it.” He frowned.

It was so unfair. They wouldn’t care if he slept with her. But they’d ridicule her for sleeping with him.

“I just want to let you know now as well… I wasn’t trying to come on to you to have a hookup.” He hummed. “The feelings I’ve got are genuine. Alright? They aren’t just too get into your pants. And I never want you to feel as though that’s your only purpose. Ever. You have so much worth, and while I’m positive you don’t need me to tell you that, I want tok anyways.”

He was unreal. She really thinks so. How did a man just… be like him. He was a fan favorite and had charm but behind the scenes he was even better than anything they said.

“Yeah. I think I was afraid. Because… I’m the same, you know?” She shyly admitted. “You’re charming and I didn’t want to admit I let your charm get to me, but it has. It has very much. And I like you. I don’t know what to do about it, but I think it’s only fair I admit it myself as well when you’ve put yourself out on the line.”

Harry’s grin grew, dimples pocketing in his cheeks. She liked him back. His heart was ringing in his ears, the shy little look into her eyes making him want to explode. Fucking adorable girl making him feel such intense emotions…. It was incredible.

Thank god. He thought he was going insane.

“We don’t have to do anything in the sense of our job right now. But since we both know… would you want to explore it? I would say privately. Just get to know each other better. Talk. Hang out. Cook food together… maybe kiss.” He smirked slightly at the end, making her let out a laugh. Her laugh soothed his Damn soul.

“I think I’d like that.”

——

Part II maybe? Who knows

[capt-spooki3]

...And Sunrises Were Worse

A sequel to Sunsets Never Felt The Same...

Pairing: Revivebur and Reader

Warnings: blood mentions, fighting, angsty feelings, kissing, manipulativebur

Y/n was finally recovering after the unfortunate demise of their lover just to find, he is back and better than ever...

3.6k words

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Y/n watched him from afar, arms open wide as he took in the rays from the rising sun.

“This is my sunrise..”

Hearing the words from him sent chills through their whole body. Watching him stand there, alive and grinning like a mad man, made them sick. Whether it was from shock, disbelief, or anger they weren’t sure yet.

It had been nine whole years that he had been gone and the only piece of him left was his ghost. Ghostbur was a comforting presence, but it just took so much for them not to try and question Ghostbur on why he left them. Not only did his ghost not remember them, but they learned quickly that he had no memory of his past mistakes.

They never expected his lonely soul to be so innocent and sweet, especially after seeing face to face how far he had fallen once he lost his darling country. That last glimpse of him they got, shook them to their core and took years to recover from. Though honestly, it never fully left them. They were ready to move on and look for love in someone that wasn’t six feet under. But there stood their former lover, watching as Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo walked away from him with Friend following close behind. He was smiling in a manic way, looking the exact same way he did when he kissed them and ran off to face his demise but this time there was something different that they just couldn’t place their finger on. Maybe it was that this time, he had a will and a want to be alive.

Y/n shook their head, letting a shiver run down their spine as they turned and started to walk away, not wanting to look at him anymore and hoping that they would just be able to forget he had come back to life.

“My dearest sunflower... “ They stopped in their tracks as they heard the voice say softly, just loud enough for his words to reach them. They held their breath, hoping to hear him speak again or not at all, while a cold sweat went down their back. Everything stood quiet like the world was holding its breath along with Y/n.

“Don’t ignore me now, love. Please, turn and look at me. I want to see your face again, it’s been too long.”

“What the hell are you doing here- yOU WERE GONE WILBUR! YOU WERE GONE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STAY GONE!” They balled up their fists and squeezed their eyes tight to try and not let the tears slip through. Emotions that have been kept under wraps for years were finally coming forth to plague their mind. All from hearing his sugar-coated voice again, but they knew all that laid under the tooth-rotting exterior anymore was pure venom.

“Y/n… please don’t be upset. I’m back. I’m here, I can make things better than ever.” His voice was growing closer and was only unraveling them farther.

“NO! Wilbur stop- stop moving. Don’t come closer.” They pleaded, voice growing frail as tears were trying harder to run free. “Please…”

“Listen to me at least, darling.”

“No. I won’t.

“Y/n.” He sounded like he was warning them to comply. A big red waving flag telling them that even in death, he hasn’t changed.

“I’m leaving, and once I’m gone. So are you.” They started walking down the small mound of rubble they were watching him from as soon as they finished their sentence and picking up the pace as soon as their feet hit the glass that kept them from falling into the crater of L’manburg.

“Y/N!!” Wilbur called out to them desperately. “H-Hold on, just wait!” But they didn’t stop, they didn’t even look back and just kept their eyes on the swirling vines that tainted the space below them.

Harsh footsteps rang out on the glass, they sounded like boots as they clicked nicely. Suddenly they were pulled back when a hand grabbed onto their arm to stop them, Wilbur took small gasps as he caught his slightly extended breaths. Y/n looked back at him and finally looked him in the eyes again after nine years. His mouth hung open just a little as he steadied his breathing. Dirt was smudged on one cheek while a bit of blood was dried on the other and a long past dried bloody nose. He looked tired too, very apparent bags were under his eyes now though his glasses sat perfect and untouched on his nose. The red in his eyes was so easy to see and up close made it even more unsettling especially as he looked at them so fondly and softly like he never stopped loving them even in death.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whispered, pulling them just a bit closer, looking like a puppy pleading for their owner not to go to work.

“Wilbur. It has been nine years. Nine years you’ve been gone, nine years tha-”

“Thirteen years!” He leaned forward just lightly as he emphasized the number. Y/n stopped and just looked at him, confused by him one upping them.

“What?”

“I have been in limbo for thirteen years Y/n. An empty train station. No exit. No one else there to help. I screamed and clawed at the walls. I was stuck there for so, so long. But I never forgot you. I missed you so much.” Wilbur finally let their arm go and let his arm fall back to his side, looking defeated. “I can’t tell you how many times I relived memories of you just to make me feel something again. Like… remember our sunset?” He looked down through the glass floor, smiling sweetly as he was obviously thinking back on the time. But Y/n simply looked at him in disbelief and almost disgust that he was thinking of them.

“Do you even realize how much it hurts? The things you told me before you went and got yourself killed? I held onto that for so many years, Wilbur.” He fixed his gaze back on them, his smile having been lost as soon as they started talking. “I was so ready to be healed from you and pursue love. Just… be happy. I haven’t forgotten you, but that’s because you hurt me so.. so bad.”

They let out a shuddering breath and took a few steps back from him to which he started to reach for them but stopped himself, lowering his hands to his sides and dropping his shoulders.

“I’m leaving. And I need you to let me leave and forget I was ever here.” They demanded once and for all before turning sharply and walking away from him.

“CAN YOU… can you stay. For just… for just a bit. Till sunset. Let me stay with you.” Y/n slowed to a stop when hearing his sad request. “Sunset can be the limit and you can bring me back here and I won’t follow you. Please just… Can you give me this?”

They sighed deeply, their addiction to his voice returning much faster than they hoped it would. They started to move again but not before calling back to him.

“Well come on then. I told myself I’d sort the books at the library today.” Y/n knew they didn’t need to wait for him because a few paces in and he had caught up to their side, hands in his pocket as he took smaller strides by their side.

“You finally built the library you always talked about?” Wilbur asked fondly, they could feel the constant glances he was throwing their way, and frankly, it took a lot of effort not to look back at him.

“Actually Foolish did it for me, I commissioned him. It looks really good too, almost everyone frequents it. I’ve even gotten Techno and Phil to drop by a good number of times.” They found their way onto the Prime Path as it made the walk to the library the easiest amongst all the rugged land.

“Yeah? I bet that Ranboo guy is there a lot, he looks like a bookworm.”

“He stops by quite a bit, yeah... Ghostbur was always there though.” They said as their voice grew softer. “Unless he was traveling around or visiting others to spread his blue, he was sitting there with Friend and reading.”

Wilbur didn’t try to make any comment after that and Y/n had to give him that. At least he still knows when it was best to shut up and bear the silence.

The rest of their walk remained rather quiet other than little comments here and there and Wilbur requested a quick walk by the museum once he saw it. Even though they could have cared less about what he wanted, Y/n agreed to walk by it since it wouldn’t set them off their path too much. They couldn’t help but admire him as he was now, they always thought Ghostbur was the actual soul AND mind of Wilbur with just amnesia. After being around him for so long, they got the urge to explain events to him whenever he would mention them, just to be reminded that he was there and remembered it all.

-

“Oh, so this must be the library ey?” Wilbur said excitedly as he stared at the two-story building and nodded in approval. “Gotta tell that Foolish guy he did a good job.”

Y/n laughed a little and went in with Wilbur close behind and quietly observing the interior.

“Go ahead and do whatever you want, I’ll be… kinda everywhere do just call if you need anything okay?” They glanced back to him to see his eyes already on them, smiling softly before he nodded.

“I can help too if you need it.”

“Uh- no. No, I’ll be fine, thank you.” They said quickly before rushing to start upstairs and get some distance between him, still not all that comfortable being so close to a man that was dead mere hours ago. They knelt down to a bookshelf and went on autopilot while they sorted through and put books in the right order.

It was so hard for their mind to fully process that he was revived. They overheard Tommy when he met up with Tubbo and Ranboo so they heard the whole story and followed behind secretly. They watched from afar when they found Wilbur but sadly didn’t hear most of what he had to say out of pure shock that he was standing right there without a sword through his chest. As much as they wanted to completely forget about his existence, They doubted they would be able to get rid of him now. All they could hope is that he would keep his distance and not be kind enough to make them fall in love with him all over again.

Hours passed by in minutes for them and they were finished with the top floor of books and went downstairs to find Wilbur standing there with obviously freshly baked bread, contemplating walking up the stairs.

“Y/n! Sorry um… here.” He offered the small loaf to them, he didn’t have his gloves on anymore and his hands were cleaned. “You’ve been working hard, but you need to take care of yourself.”

They took the bread from him carefully, taking a piece and trying to find it surprisingly good. He must have gotten it from the bakery.

“Thank you, Wilbur…. You eat too.” They took their leave into the rows of bookshelves to distance themself and eat near one of the back windows.

Things weren’t looking good for them at this rate.

-

“Alright Wilbur, got all your things? I’ve got to walk you back then go home.”

Wilbur hopped up from the chair he was sitting in, pulling his gloves out of his pockets and slipping them both on before adjusting his coat.

“Yep, all ready. Lead the way.”

And lead they did, though this time they took the more remote path down to his shrine. They took the path that Phil and his group used when they were first trying to revive Wilbur by using Ghostbur. It was calmer and it let Wilbur see other parts of the nearby area that he didn’t before.

“You know… Y/n. Have you ever been down here at night?” Wilbur asked as they were nearing the shrine.

“Huh? Oh, no I haven’t. Not since… you know.” They cast a quick glance to their side at him. “It doesn’t bring back the best memories so I try to avoid it.”

“Right, right, that makes sense.” He went quiet, but it was obvious he wanted to add on and most likely ask them something.

“Why?”

“Well, I saw them earlier and thought they looked rather nice. Did you see the floating lanterns? There were just a few, but they stood out to me among all the destroyed land.” He took a breath and looked over at them until they met his eyes. “I wanted to ask you if you could stay and look at them with me.”

Y/n just looked at him, expressionless and not saying a word.

“Look, the sun is literally already setting. Just for a few minutes, please? We can uh- we can stand on the other side of the shrine and look at them. Okay?” He looked up at the sunset before it was hidden by the land. “Just before you leave.”

“Just before I leave.” They softly echoed him and got a rushed thank you as he picked his pace up now.

They finally reached the stone steps that led to the shrine and Wilbur happily took the lead, walking to the backside of the shrine to lean up against the lapis wall. Y/n fell back against it and sighed, closing their eyes and being thankful for a moment to rest. They opened their eyes and looked up at the lanterns floating nearby, glowing brightly against the land now that the sun was set. They let themself slip away while watching the calming float of the lanterns.

Feeling eyes on them, they looked over to Wilbur. He didn’t even try to look away, just looking at them with a distant gaze and hands resting in his pockets. He looked numb as he silently watched despite the soft rosy look of his cheeks. There was something there they could only describe as numb and lovesick. As odd as it sounds, it fits.

“Wilbur-”

“Shh just let me… you look too lovely right now.”

They felt the heat rising to their face as much as they hated to feel it with him. It felt too right to hear it from him again and their mind pushed them to beg him to say those words again.

“I… I need to go home.” Y/n whispered to him, not even sure if that’s what they wanted anymore.

“I know, but darling I’m selfish.” He spoke softly to match their tone. They looked away to let out their held breath and contemplate what they were supposed to do. With a deep and grounding breath, they looked back at him. As much as they were ready to tell him they were leaving him here alone, him giving obvious glances to their lips just stopped them from being able to go forward with it.

With a soft bite of his lip, he tore his gaze away and sighed as looked up at the star-speckled sky, resting his head back. They were frozen now, admiring him this time. They swore they wouldn’t fall again but look at them now, ready to throw caution to the wind.

And they did.

Y/n closed the distance between them willingly for the first time that day and grabbed onto the arm of his jacket to get his attention, just above the L’mamburg flag patch that was covered with old dirt and blood. He looked down at them with wide eyes, very obviously surprised to see them so close.

“Are you… okay?”

“I-... I don’t know.” They admitted, meaning it completely. Wanting any of him now felt wrong but with someone as addicting and beautiful as him, what were they to do? “I want to leave… but I can’t.”

Wilbur snickered, bringing a gloved hand up to rub their cheek softly.

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

They opened their mouth to answer but were just met with blank thoughts, knowing he was right.

They just stood there, looking at each other and neither one making any advancements or turning away to end it.

“If I… Wilbur, if I kiss you right now, what will you do?”

“Well, Y/n I might just not be able to let you go. So if you want to leave and never see me again, then go. I won’t stop you. But sunshine, if you kiss me right now I won’t be able to keep myself away.” He opened his hand up to put it fully on their cheek, holding them as though this contact meant the world to him. They leaned into his hand just a little, not breaking eye contact.

They thought hard about if this was really a good idea. They still had the time to back out if they wanted to, it wasn’t too late for them to keep him out of their life forever and not try to get to know him all over again.

It was a good idea to leave. The best and smartest idea even, but even still they chose the latter.

“You’re an evil man, Wilbur Soot.” They muttered before grabbing onto the collar of his jacket, pulling his face down to theirs, and kissing him hard, making both of them stumble a bit by Wilbur being off balance. His hands found their way back to their cheeks immediately though, holding them so softly. He pulled them closer, not seeming to want to give this moment a chance to leave. Y/n pulled away finally to catch their breath, they couldn’t help but look at his eyes just to find that he was crying. He was smiling as well though. The sight made tears prick their own eyes though they blinked hard to try and hold them back. Before, seeing him in tears never failed to make them cry. They could never figure out why but it still held true.

"Why are you crying, you idiot? '' They mumbled just before he put his forehead to theirs and closed his eyes, taking in a deep yet shaky breath.

"You’re finally back in my arms… after so long of wishing for you.” He pulled their face to him to kiss them again and laugh softly. “It’s just crazy.”

He leaned back when he slid his hands off their cheeks, but not before running his hand through their hair and sighing as he looked at them. “Y/n… I need you to listen to me, okay?” He still spoke sweetly, but something seemed to lay underneath the surface of this and this time they could tell.

“Okay… but I don’t know if I can trust what you are going to say.”

“No no love! Please,” He reached down to grab and hold both of their hands close to his chest as he looked into their eyes. “You can trust me. You can. I just… I have things I need to do now that I’m back. And these things, I know some people aren’t going to agree with, but no matter what happens. As long as you stay on my side, I can promise you the world.”

Wilbur leaned in close to them, voice growing quiet now but the small smile he bore looked sinister. “I can promise you the world because I am going to capture the world in my hands. And as long as you’re mine, it will be yours as well.” He stroked their hands with his thumbs comfortingly as if to smooth over the words he just told them.

“Wilbur… I have friends. People I think of as family and if you end up hurting them I…” They trailed off, looking away from him and at the rubble of L’manburg and reflecting on what happened the last time he had a great goal in mind.

“That’s perfect! No, that is just perfect Y/n!” He let go of them, eyes wide along with his smile. “You have time. Think it over sunflower, I will give you time.”

He easily slipped past them and took a few strides away. Y/n turned to look at him, their mind in a hopeless scramble of pieces. The two sides of their mind battled on if they should tell him off or blindly trust him. He looked back at them, glancing away again before he walked up to them and gently lifted their chin to get a good look at him.

Memories flooded back to them with the familiar look he gave them. As much as they wished it could be a positive moment, all they saw was the man who grabbed them and kissed them as he said his adrenaline-filled goodbye. The only difference now was he wasn’t ready to die, but looked more than ready to cause any other kind of damage.

“You really are beautiful… I hope you choose me.” He held their chin and rubbed his thumb over their bottom lip before kissing them again, longer and sweeter this time before he spoke against their lips. “Find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you.”

___________________________________________

While you're here...

pss pss psss 👁👄👁 i made art for it too

[aryareyes]

***

Title : The way your eyes burn my soul

Pairing : Gruvia

Summary : Surprise!

Spotlights were shinning brightly, illuminating the dark interview hall, but what set the hall on fire was the audience's energetic ovation.

At the center of the hall, the interviewer, a beautiful young woman was smiling ear to ear, in front of her, her guests of the day, the best duo of the Pop world were seated, delighted matching grins on their faces.

- " Welcome to Pep Talk! Today's a very special day for us because we've our favorite Pop duo, Gray and Juvia with us!!"

The crowd whistled and cheered again as the two stars bowed their head respectfully to the crowd.

- " Thanks Mira, it's our pleasure to be here." The raven haired man answered as he flashed a grin to the public, making girls squeal.

- " Gray's right! We're very happy to be here!" The blue haired girl added, clad in her navy cocktail dress.

Again the crowd cheered but it was mostly male public this time. Mirajane smiled at the public and shifted her attention back to the duo.

- " So, Gray, Juvia, first of all, Congratulations for your last album, Icy Waves. It's a mega huge success! But most importantly, your fans—no actually, people who I know that don't like pop are into it after listening to that album. How do you feel about it?"

The female artist waited for the applause to end before talking,

" We are really glad to hear that." She chuckled contently, a glance at her partner before trailing, "Gray and I worked hard on it...and it was our first album together so..."

- " She worked extra hard for it," Her partner added as she shook her head playfully glaring at him. He smiled as he added, " It was her idea, so Icy waves wouldn't be possible without Juvs here." He winked at the girl, earing a smile in return.

- " He's exaggerating, its our team work."

- " Of course not." He rolled his eyes in response.

Mira chuckled at their bunter eyeing them carefully. Let's get my very wanted scoop.

- "I'm sure your fans love your teamwork. Now, let's talk about this particular song..." she started grinning slowly, earning some whistles and the name of the single from the crowd.

- " Looks like they want the same... The way your eyes burn my soul..." The interviewer paused glancing at the young stars who's cheeks were flushing slightly—at least Juvia's—Gray was doing a great job hiding it.

Mirajane Strauss cleared her throat slightly, getting their attention.

" Your voices...the feel in the song is..." she sighed softly looking for the right word, "...Magic...How did that magic happen?" She asked sincerely.

- " You said it, magic. I guess magic happens in music." Gray answered cleverly, shrugging.

- " I think that answer is too vague Gray," Mira chuckled imploring him to continue.

Gray's lips tugged up as he slid in a more comfortable position on the couch.

- " Recently at your album's success party, there were rumors of the two of you dating, so is it safe to assume the magic wouldn't have happened without that?"

Juvia smiled softly, adorable rosy hues adorning her cheeks.

- " Yes, I think it wouldn't have been magic if there's no feel in it."

Gray's smile turned into something genuine as his eyes were fondly looking over his girl beside him.

- "Are we lucky enough to get more details about it then?"

- " it, here means song right?" Gray lifted an eyebrow playfully earning some chuckles.

- " Definitely the song, but Juvia mentioned something about feel." Mira retorted with a mischievous smile, "So, I'd say the magic of the song—or love."

Gray scoffed. The audience cheered louder.

No wonder she was known for the title of the sweet devil.

Nonetheless, he responded with a natural expression. Years of experience of being the center of spotlights learned him to keep his cool in any kind of situation. He knew to give what the public wants to hear without revealing too much about his personal life neither.

- " We've known each other for a very long time. We'd each other's back through the thick and thin of our careers...so our friendship turned into something more, and I'm truly happy with the change."

The crowd went crazy and Juvia blushed slightly. He looked at her with a soft smile who smiled back brightly. God, she's so beautiful. He thought.

- " Heard that you guys! We were right! Our lovebirds here are dating!" Mira exclaimed in delight—she's a gruvia shipper after all.—" I guess it's time to say—excuse me for my language— Fucking Finally! "

People erupted more into cheers and whistles and chanted their favorite pop stars' ship name. Once the audience calmed down, the interviewer started talking again.

- " Well honestly, almost everyone were shipping you two together since forever and your chemistry is just so perfect. We felt it in the song." She stated as the stars thanked her and their fans.

- " So, now that you got your answers and I've my scoop, let's move to the fun part, shall we?" She continued cheerful with a glance at the public.

- " I don't feel it." Gray stated frowning and Juvia laughed at it.

- " The game is called 'tas-quest.' It's very simple. I'll ask you both questions concerning your partner which you've to answer honestly. Same goes with the tasks."

The two of the nodded and proceeded to play the game.

- " Okay. First question is for Juvia. Who's Gray's crush?"

- " Ouch. You sure want our couple to last?" The said guy retorted with fake mock. "I don't have any other crushes than my girlfriend, right here." He blow a kiss in her way but Juvia hit his arm, glaring at him playfully.

- " Babe. What?"

She huffed with a grin and turned to Mira, " He's a crush on his childhood friend."

- " What?! That was years ago! I was eight! And she's married now, thank you very much." He crossed his arms with a huff.

- " It's still a crush." She argued back.

- " She's a point." Mira smirked as Gray glared at her.

- " Your turn, who's the most jealous between the two of you?"

- " Obviously Juvia." The male singer laughed though his companion she gasped offended at him.

Mira bit back a chuckle as she looked at the young couple in amusement. Juvia pointed a finger at her boyfriend, "You got jealous of a fan on our last concert." 

Gray crossed his arms with a roll of eyes. " He was too close."

- " Because he wanted to take a photo." She retorted with a scoff.

- " Yeah right. He invaded your private space and I protected you being the charming boyfriend I am." Gray muttered under his breath, not loud enough for the fans to here but Juvia and Mira did. The latter smirked while the female singer rolled her eyes but allowed a smile.

He was too cute when he was jealous.—She thought endearingly. Without a word she placed her hand on the his that was resting in the bare space between them and caressed it to smooth him. It worked as he gave her a look and she smiled. He turned his aside fighting back a smile of his own.

The reporter cleared her throat to her their attention, "Moving on to the next  quest—oh it's actually a task for Juvia." She set her gaze on the girl who hastily pulled her hand away.

- " Yes ?"

- " You've to admit to Gray three of your secrets concerning him that you never would have told him." That earned chuckles and whispers.

- " Now it's interesting. I'm all ears Juvs. " He crossed his arms in curiosity, a playful gleam in his eyes.

- " Oh god, tell me I've a joker." She groaned in response—"Nope." Gray and Mira said at the same time.

Juvia pouted, "If I tell him my secret then it's no more a secret."

The sweet devil giggled, " That's basically the point of the game." The girl pouted more but turned her body slightly to her partner who was looking at her amused.

- " I've always found you cuter when you're sleeping...because you're messy, relaxed and actually a kid." She smiled tenderly at him as his cheeks tinted slightly. Their fans cooed. "...So I may have or may not have snapped pictures of you while sleeping." It was her turn to blush as he recovered from his flustered state to smirk at her handsomely.

- " Will we get some of them? " Mira interrupted.

- " Absolutely not." Juvia chuckled, "They're mine." The young girls sighed heavily but grinned at their favorite couple.

- " Next secret Wat'drop." Gray raised an eyebrow challengingly.

- " I stole one of your hoodies a few months ago and got to know recently that it's your favorite since you went through your room for it." She admitted with a cute frown.

- " Wait. My Detective Conan?" He asked in disbelief. His girlfriend bowed her head. " Guilty." She looked up at him again, " You're mad?" He rolled his eyes at her cuteness. How could he be mad at her when she was looking like that?

Instead of giving her a verbal answer, he ruffled her hair affectionately. Juvia smiled and promised herself to find him the real one he was looking for—the one he had that she stole (because she missed him too much), was not the one he wanted originally. The stocks wore off as it was a limited edition and he got himself the closest thing to the original. So, she would  buy him the one originally he wanted.

- " You guys are really cute together!!" Their interviewer squealed as she looked at them and the crowd agreed with her.

They thanked her and Juvia proceeded to the last secret with a groan. "Arghh...I can't believe I'm confessing this to you on a live show."

Gray's eyebrow lifted, " That much secret?" He frowned concerned, " You don't need to tell it."

Juvia shook her head, " No, I should play fair." She mumbled as she stared around at her fans and smiled at them. She then squeezed Gray's hand and locking her eyes on him.

- " I had a crush on you from the very first day I met you." Gray's eyes widened slightly, surprise written all over his face. They forgot they got a loud audience as he blinked at her.

- " Really?"

- " Really." She said softly. He leaned to her side, and kept his voice low. The public didn't notice their murmurs as they've gone wild since Juvia's confession.

-" I don't understand...you didn't like me back then..." He frowned. Juvia gave him a look that meant 'later'.

Mira cheered and turned to them,

" Thanks for playing fair Juvia! You're awesome!"

- " Well, it's almost time. I've a last..." She looked at the small card in her hand before looking back at Gray. " task for Gray."

- " Tell us three things you like the most about Juvia." A gentle smile crossed his features as he glanced at his girl before facing Mira.

- " I think the list is long but I'll keep it short..." He held a hand up, enumerating. " She's one of the most talented and dedicated person I know. Whether it's job or studies or other common things, once she gets into it, she's determined to finish it and gives her hundred percent in everything she does. She's a hard worker and I honestly think that's the reason of her success."

Juvia was touched by his words as she stared at the man she loved talking about her so highly and proudly. She knew why she loved him so much.

- " She's a very good friend—she's this kind of friend who you would call if one day you committed a murder and don't know what to do about it. She'll help you bury the body and get you safely out of the mess." Juvia along with others laughed at his statement.— "Not that I'm planning to murder someone." He added and Juvia laughed more, leaning into him before giving him a look that meant, 'call me if you do'.

- " I guess what I'm trying to say is, she's trustworthy and be there for you through thick and thin. The kind of friend everyone needs to have in their life and I'm grateful to have her in mine." He got everyone's heart with that—if he didn't already had—as they stared at him in awe.

Gray turned to Juvia and locked his eyes with hers as he was about to say his last one. " What I love the most about you is how you look at me. You look at me as if I was your world and you love me so freely and so...easily. You accept my imperfections and love me for myself and not because I'm a star..." He held her hand and pulled her up with him as she started tearing up despite trying hard to not cry. Gray smiled lovingly at her—the one he only reserved for her and never showed in public. " Thanks for loving me, Wat'drop."

Without minding the public—because she saw only him—she brought a hand to his face and he leaned in her touch still giving her that loving look. She smiled, her heart and mind racing as her whole being was consumed of an overwhelming love for the man standing before her. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his in a sweet, soft kiss that sent the room shaking in fan's wild ovation.

When the lovebirds departed from each other with matching grins, hands still intertwined, Mira almost fainted but managed to end the show with hearts in her eyes.

*

The young couple was in the back of Gray's car as they were been driven back to their respective homes. Juvia was asleep on his shoulder as he kissed her head and stroked her hair tenderly. She's been working on her new album for the past week when they just finished their album and even before the interview, she was asked in her studio. He knew that she barely had enough for the past months. Gray was grateful to his production house to be on vacation but it's not the case for Juvia. She's to work for at least a week or two before her own holidays. Thankfully, he would be still on holidays by that time, hence he'd already planned their vacation—It was a surprise for her.

Half an hour later, Gray was carrying his girl to his bed in his penthouse slowly to not disturb her sleep. He lied her gently on it and proceeded to take her heals off and stripped himself, leaving only his boxers before climbing up in the bed with her. Juvia almost immediately clung to him like a koala, her head placed on his chest, a leg on his and an arm across his stomach. With a soft smile, he wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her to him.

- " Are you sure you don't want to get comfortable before sleeping?" He whispered after a moment. She only tightened her hold on him. Gray rolled his eyes and ran a hand in her hair as he stared down at her.

- " I know you're awake Juvs."

- " Why didn't you change my dress?" Her voice was muffled due to her position as she buried her face in his neck. "I don't mind it. It's just you."

Gray's heart skipped a beat and he rubbed circles on her bare arms.

- " I respect you too much to take advantage of you while you're sleeping." He murmured.

She raised her head up with a yawn but gave him a sleepy smile. "Gray, changing my dress to make me comfortable on bed is not taking advantage of me. You're my boyfriend so it's basically your right." He returned her smile, tucking a strand behind her ear to stare into her beautiful blue orbs.

His smile turned soon into a gorgeous smirk. Oh boy. Juvia flushed and  shivered in his hold as his hand pulled the straps of her dress slowly. His eyes were intense on her as he murmured, "Why, I don't have a problem stripping you Wat'drop." His fingers caressed her bare shoulders burning her skin as they went by.  "In fact, I prefer you naked around me." His lips trailed from her ears to cheeks down her jaw and Juvia placed her hands on his chest to push back slightly to stare down at him with an adorable pout.

- " You're such a pervert." She murmured. He pecked her lips in response before looking at her innocently. " I'm using my boyfriend rights here." She hit his chest lightly with a soft frown that turned into a smile, wiggled out of his hold ignoring his protests.

- "Close your eyes boyfriend."

- " Nope." Gray grinned back as he found the perfect position to stare at her, his eyes trailing to her bare neck and shoulders as she held the dress to her chest.

Juvia glared at him for a moment and he held her stare before she shrugged. Gray's eyes widened as she let her dress fall and pool around her feet and stood before him, clad only in her undies. He openly gaped at her too surprised to react as he took her in.

Gray knew Juvia was beautiful. He's known her for almost six years now and he'd seen her in daring dresses before.—it was part of the job. But right now, she was actually standing in his room, in his arm length, only in her navy matching underwear. She was a goddess. Before he could even process what was happening, her hand was unclasping her bra and Gray hurriedly turned to the other side, cursing as Juvia's laugh filled the room.

He was a goner if he saw her naked. He wouldn't be able to not jump her after so Gray shut his eyes tight and pushing away the amazing vision he just saw into the back of his mind as he waited for the little tease of his girlfriend to finish changing.

A moment later the bed shook and her arms slipped around his torso from behind as she placed her face on his cheek. He felt her bare legs slipping on his and he knew that she was wearing his t-shirt. He could handle it. He'd already seen her in his clothes and she's very—Stop right there, Gray.

- " Comm'o look at me..." She chuckled, "...I'm not naked—

- " Shut up." He groaned. She placed a few kisses on his cheek with a smile and after a moment, he finally turned on his back. She smiled brightly at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

- " I love you." She whispered and kissed his jaw before tucking her face under his chin.

- " I love you too Wat'drop." He kissed her head squeezing her to him.

- " You said sweet things at the interview." She murmured.

- " I was being honest." He said as he caught her looking at him lovingly—as if he was her world. "And I meant every word."  She was his world.

She hummed happily and closed her eyes. His arms were her safe, warm cocon. Her place.

-" Speaking of interview..." she lifted her head up in question, crossed her arms on his chest and placed her face on it, staring at his face.  " You said something about crush." His lips tugged up and her own tugged hp in a slow smile under his curios gaze.

Juvia cupped his face with a hand and smiled adoringly down at him. " I had a crush on you in high school. Remember our first meet?"

He recalled it with a fond smile, " You fell on me with books dropping on us. There's so much dust and we started sneezing and the old librarian was yelling at us like a mad woman."

The blue haired girl chuckled happily. " Well, I guess I didn't only fell on you that day but also fell for you."

Gray's eyes widened, " You loved me back then?" His heart thumping against his chest and he was sure that she could hear it, judging by her smile.

- " I thought it was a crush at first. You were so handsome and—"

- " Were?" He raised a teasing eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. "—are and I just liked looking at you..." her eyes locked with his in a playful gleam. " That is until I knew that you were my rival in everything. Literally everything!" She groaned dropping her head on his chest. "It was so annoying. You always beat me in one point or just behind me in a point. So annoying!"

Gray snorted rubbing her back. " I was not used to have a competitor and I hated to lose." She mumbled before lifting her head to face him.

" You hate to lose too." He chuckled but didn't say anything letting her rant about how annoying it was to be constantly on war with him in high school.

- " But I loved bickering with you. I couldn't spend a day without bantering with you. Really." She looked up at him stroking his cheek. "Then, there's this project in our second year and we were partnered up."

- " We ended it, won the first prize." He murmured as she nodded eagerly. " We became friends during that period..." He trailed tracing his finger on her cheek.

- " We were already kinda friends—frenemies, I guess. I've always admired you. You were the first person I've ever met with so much determination to win." She whispered eyes closed.

- " Hmm, I liked you too. But too arrogant to admit it." She snorted at his statement.

- " Then best friends. We were inseparable by the end of high school..." Gray hummed a nod. " You supported me before my uncle to pursue music career."

- " It's because you were incredibly talented Wat'drop." He said sincerely. She smiled as his finger traced the form of her lips.

- " That's an exaggeration but thank you for the compliment." She opened her eyes to look at him, " Want to know something? " He rose an eyebrow, silently asking her to continue. "You were my inspiration to fight for what I want, to fight for my dream." She kissed his forehead gently, " I won't be here without you, Gray Fullbuster."

- " And I won't without you. You were my only family when things fell apart." He retorted as he recalled his dark period—when Ur died.

" You were my strength and my very reason to not give up." Her eyes glistened as his welled up, and she kissed his eyelids, lingering when lips there. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be in streets."

- " You had all our friends with you. We all had your back."

- " True. I'm grateful for them but you, Juvia, you're special. You held me together." She smiled tearfully.

- " You are special to me too. Always have been."  He mumbled an 'I know' and rolled them over earning a surprised squeal from her as her back hit the mattress.

She stared up at him bringing him closer with her arms around his neck.

- " When did you know you loved me?" He asked gazing into her eyes.

- " Last year, when you were in your world tour." His love brushed the hair of his nape as he leaned his forehead against hers. " It started with little things. Like when I spent weekends in our friend's place watching movies and how you were not there to lean on or throw my legs on..." He grinned.

- " Then, we'd go to get a coffee and you weren't there to know that I don't add milk in my coffee. Then, I started missing your voice. I'd call you and couldn't get you so I would listen to your voicemail to hear your voice."

He leaned back to look at her apologetic, his being bursting with love for her. " Sorry about that. You know we barely have our phones on world tour."

- " I know, don't worry about it. But I yearned to hear your voice." He kissed her nose and lips in response.

- " By the time you were back, I knew I was madly in love with you and I couldn't imagine a life without you."

He could feel the love in her voice as she said it.

- " You aren't kidding—you practically choked me to death when you hugged me once you saw me in the airport." He teased with a grin.

- " Yeah well, I just realized I loved my best friend for years and you weren't there for eight moths. I wanted to lock you in a room and never let you go away from me."

- " It's creepy." He grinned.

- " You wouldn't have minded would you—wait why're you grinning?"

His grin widened and she held his face up and forced his eyes to hers. A moment in silence passed between them. Both of their hearts beating in sync as the realization settled over.

Juvia worded it slowly.

- " You loved me." Her tone was barley a whisper as she remained their eye lock.

- " I've loved you for a long time Wat'drop. A very very longtime that I denied and fought back my feelings."

- " Why?"

- " Because I've just lost Ur. And I've lost everyone I've loved. You, losing you...was unimaginable... I was terrified that my feelings will take you away from me so I fought them back to keep you with me. "

- " You wouldn't have lost me if you made a move earlier, Gray." She took a breath, " I've always denied my feelings for you as a crush and admiration until I really couldn't lie to me anymore..."

Gray sighed in response, "We we're both idiots huh..." She groaned, " We wasted years! We could've been together while we were still in Uni!"

Gray looked up at her, " Hey, we're together now and we've always loved each other without knowing so we're good." He shrugged and pecked her lips as she still had her pout on.

- " I'm a bit worried you...we are no more high school kids. We are popular now, successful stars in industry. And we're dating." Her voice dropped as she looked at him, " Going in public, was it a bad idea?"

- " Do you regret it?" He brushed away her hair, and she shook her head. "I'm just concerned about what it could do to our relationship...as much as I love my fans, when it's comes to their favorite celebrity's love life, they'd go crazy. Especially when two celebrities are dating. They don't see the fact that under the mask of popularity, it's two normal people with feelings and we can't really fault them." Her eyes started stinging as she stared at him. "I can't lose you, Gray."

He quickly reassured her pulling her in a tight hug. " You won't lose me." He pulled back slightly despite her pressure to stay like that. He stared into her eyes, " Didn't you say that I'm the most determined person you know?" A nod, "Juvia, I fight for what I want. " He lifted her chin up. " I'll always fight for you." He swore.

- " Promise?" Her tone was frail, and he smiled at her. " Promise. And you promise to fight for me?"

- " Always."

She brought a hand between them, holding up her little finger, He wrapped his around it and smiled when he saw their tattoos matching as their fingers locked together. Juvia dragged him to the tattoo parlor past midnight to get it in their half drunken states a few weeks ago. It was on the day of the success party of their first album together, Icy Waves. So they got themselves tattooed a drop of water on his finger and a snowflake on hers.

There's no ice without water and no water without ice. And Gray would be damned if he didn't keep that promise.

**********************

💧❄️ Happy Belated Gruvia day! ❄️💧

[teddy-bear-surprise]

hi!! how are you? i seen your post about wanting to write headcannons or blurbs and i didn't know if you wanted them to be birthday related but osbddkndjdd staying up until exactly 12 am with peter and once it hits, the reader gives him a bunch of kisses & let's him now how happy she is to be with him!!!

This story is also available on AO3 and Wattpad!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request, I'm doing great today and I hope you are too <3

MASTERLIST

Title: Midnight Birthday

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: None (they joke around about poop and farts, which makes me sound immature, but I promise it’s funny and not like serious)

Context needed: Y/N

I deviated slightly from the prompt on accident, but I hope you enjoy it :)

Your phone rang loudly for the third time, prompting you to finally pick up. Normally, you would ignore everyone’s phone calls, but you realized that Peter was the one calling you. You had set a special ringtone for him, just so this wouldn’t happen, yet he still had to call multiple times just to get your attention.

“Hey, Peter! Sorry I didn’t pick up before… You know how it is, right?”

Peter chuckled on the other end of the line, “Yeah, I know. We should really come up with a better system for you. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if there was an emergency and they had to call you. I know you can’t see me right now, but just the thought gave me goosebumps.”

You heard him shudder, “I’m sure you’re very goosebumpy, Spider-Kid.”

“Hey!” He asserted jokingly, “You know that I prefer ‘Spider-Man’, you know that. And don’t be mean to me! I’m over here calling to invite you out to dinner and this is what I get? I am beyond hurt. I will never recover.” Peter emphasized each word as sarcastically as he possibly could.

“Oh, get over yourself drama queen. Spider-Boy, Spider-Kid, Spider-Man, it’s all the same thiiinnggggg. Just take the compliment, hun. In thirty years– when you’re all old, wrinkly, and a Spider-Senior –you’ll be missing the days when people called you Spider-Kid. Now, what were you saying about dinner?”

“I said I wanted to invite you out to dinner! Were you not listening?”

You rolled your eyes and wished he could see your face right now. “I got that part, genius. I meant like what kind of dinner… Y’know, Where? When? The details, Pete, the details.”

“Oohhhh, that would make sense.” He laughed quietly, shaking his head at his own stupidity. “I was thinking that we could go to that restaurant you love, you know the one you were talking about the other day… Ummmm I think it was called Sveleka? Right? So we could go there around 7…”

Peter’s voice trailed off as he tried to remember the details of his plan and you cut in. “It’s Veselka, but that would be great, Pete. I’ll see you there at 7, love you.”

You hung up the phone before Peter even got a chance to reply. Your phone skills were rudimentary, to say the least, and it always got you into trouble. Luckily, Peter understood your bizarre hatred of phones and phone calls, allowing you to talk to him without worrying too much.

You knew that his birthday was tomorrow and you had developed a plan of your own. It was supposed to be a surprise, and the last thing you were expecting was for him to ask you out to dinner the night before his own birthday. In a way, it made you appreciate him even more, knowing that he loved you enough to randomly call you and ask you out to dinner. But now, thanks to his unexpected decision, you only had two hours to rearrange everything before meeting up with him for dinner. You stared at the giant teddy bear sitting on your bed and sighed. Even though your plan was technically easier to carry out now, you felt a twinge of annoyance about having to modify your schedule.

Originally, you wanted to sneak into Peter’s apartment, along with May’s help, and surprise him with a giant teddy bear that said “I love you” when you hugged it. Ideally, you would get there right at midnight, as the night turned from August 9th to 10th, and show him that you cared. That you cared about his birthday, his happiness, and his wellbeing.

You shook away the thought and positioned the teddy bear so that it looked like it wanted to give you a hug. In between its warm, fluffy arms, you placed a small box. This box was technically Peter’s real present. It contained a small, circular locket with one half of a glass spider and a key. In the very same box, you included a long handwritten note telling Peter how much you loved him and how proud you were of him. Once you rearranged the box and bear to your liking, you began to get ready.

The closet of your apartment was minuscule, as was the whole place, and the limited space had led you to develop a very limited wardrobe. Your outfits only consisting of basic black pieces, one dark green jacket, and three pairs of shoes. Peter always joked that he loved how your closet all looked the same, claiming that it made it easier to find you if you ever got lost in a crowd. You both knew that was far from true since everyone in Manhattan loves wearing black, but you appreciated that he was so kind about your unconventional fashion decision.

You grabbed a simple, long black skirt and a silky black tank top, changing out of your pajamas. It might have been five o’clock in the afternoon, but pajamas stayed on until you left the house. That was just the rule. While you fixed your hair and makeup, you began to worry that Peter would figure out your plan. It was a slightly irrational thought, especially since he was socially inept and on multiple occasions forgot when his birthday was. Still, the thought plagued your mind until the moment you were ready to leave.

As you walked to Grand Central station, you texted Aunt May, letting her know that the plan had changed. May had been the biggest supporter of you and Peter’s relationship from the start. Honestly, she was the only one you could trust because she was the only one who could keep both your and Peter’s identities a secret. You hopped onto the Six heading downtown, hoping that she would reply before your service completely cut out.

You: Hi, May. Peter invited me out for dinner at the last minute so we might have to rearrange a bit.

May: This is why I told you to make plans with him ahead of time, so we wouldn’t run into any bumps like this.

You: I know, sorry. I wasn’t expecting him to do this.

May: I was kind of expecting it… I made a bet with myself that he would do this and it looks like I won!

You: You bet on us?? Is this like a reoccurring thing???

May: Definitely not. That would be immature. I’d never do that.

You shook your head at your phone, laughing at how obvious it was that May bet on your and Peter’s relationship. To you, May was like a second mother, or just a really cool aunt. She seemed to understand how to be just serious enough, but not stiff. Not to mention that she was ten times nicer and more supportive of you than your actual mom.

You: I’m gonna pretend that the last part of the conversation never happened. But what I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to meet Peter for dinner around 7 at Veselka so I won’t be able to go back to my apartment and then to Peter’s in time. I just left the bear at my apartment and I’m thinking of asking Peter to go home with me after we eat, what do you think?

May: Sounds like a solid plan, kiddo. Good luck, and please don’t let Peter eat too many of those sauerkraut pierogies this time, he was gassy for two days. It wasn’t fun.

You: Thanks for the gross heads-up, May. Byeeee

You got off at Astor Place and walked in silence towards the restaurant. You were looking at the ground, head hanging low, when Peter called out to you from across the street.

“Y/N, hi!”

You looked up at him and smiled at the goofy boy waving at you. “Hi, Peter!”

Jogging across the street, you made eye contact with him. He held out a hand towards you, helping you onto the sidewalk, and embraced you. Peter kissed the top of your head softly and gave you one last squeeze before letting go.

“So, I guess we’re both early then. I gotta say that I’m shocked, Parker. I wasn’t expecting you to get here before me.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Peter winked at you.

---

The two of you merrily ate your dinner, with Peter threatening to instigate a food fight more than once. You talked about anything and everything, by the time you two were ready to pay the bill, it was almost 11 and you were stuffed.

Peter rubbed his hand on his stomach, poking at it, “I think it would be physically impossible for me to eat any more. Like I would just spchwoooo,” he mimicked an explosion with his hands, “explode.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t order any of those sauerkraut pierogies, May said they made you all gassy last time. I don’t even want to know what would have happened if you ate those and the stuffed cabbage.”

“What?! May said that? I never get gassy. Ever.” Peter lowered his voice, “I’m literally superhuman, it takes more than some sauerkraut and cabbage to mess with this iron stomach.”

“That’s not even close to being true. You had explosive diarrhea after that burrito two weeks ago, and don’t blame the food, you were the only one out of the three of us who got sick. Did you forget that May and I had to take you to the hospital? Because I don’t think that counts as an ‘iron stomach’.”

The two of you argued about stomachs, diarrhea, and food the rest of the way to your apartment, stopping every few minutes to point out airplanes flying overhead. You insisted on walking home so you could arrive almost exactly at midnight. Plus having Spider-Man by your side was basically a guarantee of safety, even in Manhattan. Peter held your hand the whole time, swinging it like a smitten teenager. After walking nearly fifty blocks, you arrived at your apartment. You noticed that Peter seemed hesitant, only lightly resting his foot on the first step leading up the building.

“C’mon, let’s watch a movie or something. I don’t want you to leave yet.” You pouted and tugged on Peter’s hand, pulling him up into the doorway.

“Well then, I guess I’m not leaving.”

---

The two of you were cuddled on your small couch watching Buzzfeed Unsolved, Peter’s favorite show, but you weren’t paying attention. Every few seconds your eyes would dart up at the clock, waiting for the hour hand to strike 12. Peter was entranced, never letting his attention deviate from the screen, and he didn’t even notice that you weren’t looking at the TV. The minutes went by slowly and you were counting down the seconds until midnight, gripping onto Peter’s arm. He thought that you were just scared by the prospect of unsolved murders, not that you were anxiously waiting for his birthday.

The last second passed and the clock struck 12, you immediately jumped out of Peter’s embrace and turned to him. Peter sat up in shock, confused by your sudden movement. You took the opportunity to straddle him and grab his face.

“Happy birthday, My Love.”

You peppered his face with sweet kisses and his eyes widened. His body softened under your touch as a feeling of love and happiness filled his heart. Peter snaked his hands up your thighs, letting them rest on your hips, and squeezed softly. You gave him one last kiss on the lips and rested your forhead against his.

“I have a surprise for you, Birthday Boy.” You lifted yourself off of his lap and held your hand out to him.

Peter took your hand and followed you obediently, curious to see what his surprise was. You opened the door to your room, revealing the large stuffed bear and its matching box. Peter let go of your hand and excitedly ran towards your bed.

Before he could say anything, you began speaking, “I know it’s not much, and I know you probably thought that I’d have like a trail of rose petals in here or something like that. But I wanted to show you that my love for you isn’t just about our physical relationship, my love for you i-is emotional and wholesome. I love you, Peter Parker. I truly love you and I’m so happy that you’re mine. I mean, every morning I wake up, I remember that I’m dating you, and that makes me the happiest person in the world.” You reached over to the box in Peter’s hands, “So, Peter Parker, will you accept this key?”

You opened the box and Peter’s cheeks glowed red. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded his head.

“Yes! I love you so much too. I- Thank you,” He paused, “Oh no. Wait, I don’t have a key for yo–”

“Pete, this is your birthday present. I wouldn’t expect you to give me a gift on your birthday, silly.”

He rambled energetically, “You’re right… I’m still going to get you a copy though. Oh my gosh. I love this so much, and is this a spider because I’m Spider-Man?! Where’s the other half? This is so cool!”

You held up your matching locket, opening it to reveal the other half. “Yep, it is because you’re Spider-Boy. The best superhero in town. And, don’t throw away the little note at the bottom. Well, don’t open it now, but if you ever need a reminder of how much I love you, just read that note.”

Peter held your hands in his and pulled you down, both of you crashing into the giant teddy bear. The second you fell onto it, it blurted a freakish, distorted “I love you”, scaring both of you. You jumped up and looked at a wide-eyed Peter.

“Y’know, maybe we don’t need the bear. I don’t really want to be on the next episode of Unsolved.”

You laughed at Peter’s joke, pushing the bear onto the ground and kissed him. His soft lips tasted like the blueberry dessert you shared and his skin was as soft as butter.

You pulled away, foreheads resting together once more. Peter whispered, “Thank you for giving me the happiest midnight birthday, darling.”

[mephistagain]

Everything, or Nothing At All

Hello good, sweet, kind, wonderful friends who follow Flawed by Design.

Here is an epilogue which will not appear in the actual story, but which I*gleefully embraced and ran, ran so far away*toyed with the idea of at one point a few months ago.��

If you’d prefer to wait for me to finish FbD prior to reading any spoilerish content, abort reading now.

John parked the warthog in the usual spot at the edge of the redwoods. He retrieved his pack, slung it over his shoulder, and hauled the camo tarp atop the vehicle so that it didn’t stand out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of the verdant mountainside. Then he turned and started into the forest. The trek generally took him two hours, and while the warthog could handle the terrain for part of the way, he preferred the solitude of travelling on foot. 

Briar had also complained on the one occasion he had driven closer that the approach had been about as inconspicuous as he was - which was evidently not very, he’d been given to understand. 

The hike gave him time to clear his head of the latest sim test results, the monotony of base life, and the lingering impotency of being involuntarily removed from active duty. He was still a highly functioning tactical asset, so while he understood the decision as it had been explained to him by Brass as a matter of PR, he didn’t like it. Linda didn’t either, but she never complained. Unsurprisingly, Fred and Kelly were transitioning from life in the field with the most ease. They were anticipating instructional appointments as an opportunity to guide and shape the next generation of Spartan-IVs. 

Not him.

Pausing, John examined the trunk of one of the towering trees - more specifically the scarred markings some animal’s claws had torn into its bark. She’d informed him when he’d last left that there was a cougar lurking in the area. He continued on, the familiar weight of the M6H2 strapped to his thigh precluding any concerns about crossing paths with the predator. The territorial scorings didn’t appear recent, sap had already wept over the abrasions and hardened, but he still recentred his focus. Which wasn’t easily done as he tallied up just how long it’d been since he’d last left base. 

An unfamiliar weight settled in his gut, but he knew it for what it was - guilt. Seven weeks was not inconsiderable. And while it hadn’t been his intention to avoid returning, neither had he sought rec time or leave in order to do so. Hadn’t even given it much thought between the day in, day out routine trials Blue team had been selected to participate in for the Gen3 MJOLNIR platform.

He now had to wonder if that had been subconsciously purposeful because of his conflicted feelings over the pregnancy. Briar had encouraged him to seek the input of Fred, Linda, and Kelly, and yet he’d not done that either. Not even when Fred had noted that he was behaving more introvertedly than was characteristic of him. The reason for that, at least, was logical. As Blue team’s leader, undermining the others’ confidence in him by requisitioning advice on a subject none of them were more likely to have experience with than he did was irrational. Fred and Kelly may be more sociable than he was, but he doubted they were concealing clandestine children out there in the systems somewhere. The thought nearly made him snort, in fact. 

The elevation increase and time elapsed since he’d set out from the warthog suggested he was better than halfway there now. 

Would she be displeased with him? He hadn’t gotten the sense his initial reaction had caused her to be so. If anything, she’d seemed as uncertain about the development as he’d been. She hadn’t questioned him when he’d prepared to head back to base earlier than planned. Just requested that he speak with his fellow Spartan-IIs. 

The issue stemmed from the fact John had never factored children into his future. He’d factored another few decades of service in. But not much beyond that. And now, here he was; forced into semi-retirement for all intents and purposes, and staring fatherhood down the barrel. What that even involved, he couldn’t begin to fathom. His memories of his own childhood were so watered down and repressed that it took a Herculean effort just to recall that he’d possessed one at some distant point in the past. He would have a duty to protect the child, that much was obvious. And provide for it - though with the healthy settlement he’d been saddled with as compensation from the UNSC, there should prove no barrier to that. 

What would life for a child born to two Spartans even look like? It had never been explicitly expressed, but there wasn’t a shadow of doubt in his mind they’d never been expected to produce offspring. And while the inquisition into Orion and the subsequent Spartan programs had clued up, and public perception had shifted dramatically in light of its innumerable findings, it still didn’t feel as though society was prepared for Spartans to fully re-integrate. At least, not IIs and IIIs. The IVs had been regular enlisted before being recruited into their program. They’d led normal lives. Had families. No so for his and Briar’s generation. Despite having been stationed there for six months now, Blue team still received a variety of conspicuous reactions from the base’s other personnel as they went about their assigned duties. He ignored them, but the relief of leaving it all behind when he drove past the last checkpoint and the wild landscape opened up before the warthog had been palpable. 

The fact he looked forward to Briar’s company wasn’t the enigmatic response it had initially presented as to him any longer. With her, he was just John. And whatever that entailed, she took in stride. No expectations. 

He smelled it before he saw it. The copper tang of blood hung heavy in the air as he approached the clearing the cottage occupied on the ridge. Through the foliage, tawny hide could be glimpsed. Brandishing his sidearm, he strained his honed senses for further signs of intrusion as he stalked in towards his quarry. Within twenty metres, John could detect the error in his assessment. The once-predator’s pelt hung from a make-shift frame of pliable branches, stretched out wide in a curious display of victory. So, she��d taken care of the cougar. Bypassing the trophy, he was returning the magnum to its holster when he noted the smear on the doorframe. Briar wasn’t as fastidiously tidy and organized as he was wont to be, but a bloody handprint seemed grisly even for her to disregard cleaning up. 

John glanced back to the hide. The dark stain from blood which had pooled beneath it seemed to indicate it’d been hung there for some time. Hours, probably. His attention returned to the smeared handprint. Was it possibly not the result of the animal’s blood, but her own? Had she been injured?

“Briar?” he called not without apprehension as he pushed through the door and inside. Crimson droplets led directly across the rustic floorboards towards the lav. His heart rate kicked up a notch. She hadn’t responded. Dropping the pack with a thud, he stepped over the trail as he strode to the open doorway. No light spilled out, so he wasn’t surprised not to find her within, but the open med kit, mess of bandaging supplies, and blood ringing the sink did alarm him more than he cared to admit. She’d treated herself for whatever wound she’d received, he reasoned with himself. Everything was likely fine. 

Noise outside pulled John away from the chaos which had been unleashed in the lav. He re-emerged from the cottage just as Briar was latching the door on the small tool shed he’d insisted they erect during his last visit, to remove the clutter of equipment from the limited space offered in the main living structure. 

She looked about as bewildered by his presence as he felt about the scene he’d witnessed upon arrival, but as usual, recovered first. “Could have used your help earlier,” she commented while wiping her dirty hands on her already soiled pants. A combination of blood and grime interrupted their dark green camo patterning. 

“With the cougar?” he surmised, having paused just outside the door.

“With burying it.”

That explained the mud, anyway. “Are you alright?” She appeared whole, but the med kit had been rummaged through for a purpose. Her black t-shirt revealed a few shallow lacerations on her arms, but none of them were bandaged.

Briar shrugged, or began to, though the motion was cut short by a grimace. “It got the jump on me, nothing serious.” She lingered by the shed, her gaze having shifted to the hide. “Should have driven it off a while ago.” It didn’t seem a conscious action, but one of her hands drifted briefly to her abdomen before falling back to her side.

It hit him with the sheer, unrestrained force of a NOVA. She’d been in danger - the child she carried, his child, had been in danger - and he hadn’t even known. No matter his uncertainty, the overwhelming and fierce instinct to protect that precious unborn life consumed him with an abruptness he’d never before experienced in his 48 years. He didn’t know what to expect from fatherhood, but the fear of having that opportunity snatched away by variables outside his control was perhaps the realest he’d ever known. 

She was eying him pensively as he closed the distance between them. Dark strands of hair had escaped her braid and smudges on her cheek and temple implied she’d probably been pushing the loose locks out of her eyes. He reached up to do so for her now after she’d unsuccessfully attempted to blow them out of her line of sight. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking, or should I stand here waiting like an idiot for you to say something for another ten minutes first?”

“I’m thinking that cougar chose its prey unwisely.” 

She rolled her eyes, but they then shot down to where his hand had come to rest over her stomach before she could reply. 

“And that I shouldn’t have waited so long to come back,” he supplied with regret. Not only did he now comprehend how cowardly it had been, even if it shamed him to ascribe such a trait to himself, it had nearly cost him more than he’d at first understood. 

Briar was regarding him with an unreadable expression. She hadn’t stepped back, but neither did she seem particularly welcoming of his proximity. What must she have thought of him as the weeks had stretched on in his absence? “I knew you would,” she said after some time. “Eventually.” It didn’t sound as though that certainty had reassured her much, it was more of a statement of fact.

“I didn’t speak to the others about it.” She deserved to know he’d disregarded her request along with leaving her out here alone without explanation.

“John-”

“But I’m going to. When I go back.”

“It was just a suggestion-”

“What were the bandages for?” he cut her off, having already made up his mind on the matter. Blue team might not be able to offer parenting advice, but they would give him their honest assessment of the situation. And since the added responsibility could potentially affect his performance as team leader, they needed to be aware of that. 

Sighing, she turned around and lifted her shirt to reveal the gauze padding haphazardly taped to her back. Blood had already seeped through several wads, suggesting the wounds they covered were deeper than those on her arms. “I’m going to clean up the shitstorm in there, I just wanted to deal with that asshole before dark,” she said while shooting the pelt a miffed glare and dropping her shirt again. 

“So you decided to skin it.”

“Only after it tried to eat me.” 

John took her by the arm to gently propel her inside. Fortunately, she didn’t resist. In the lav, he again turned her so that she faced the opposite direction and pulled the t-shirt up and over her head, prompting her to lift her arms in the process. Then he began the painstaking process of peeling the medical tape off, doing so slowly so as not to aggravate the injuries beneath. 

All of this, Briar endured cooperatively in silence. Even when he applied the biogel, which he knew from plenty of personal experience, stung owing to its antiseptic component. Once he’d reapplied the bandaging in plush squares, he returned the supplies to the med kit and rinsed out the sink. 

She was still standing in the same spot, shirt held in one hand as she faced the shower unit. Her posture didn’t point towards being receptive to physical contact, so he leaned against the doorframe to give her some space.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking… if this isn’t something you want to go through with, I understand.”

The sudden remark set him on edge almost as swiftly as the cougar pelt had. “Explain,” he prompted her when no further information was offered. 

“Explain what - that neither one of us would have any clue how to raise a kid?” She was shaking her head and he knew without needing her to say more exactly where her doubts stemmed from. She’d confessed before to having no memory of her parents, and his own were vague impressions in the few flashbacks he’d experienced over the years.

“I want to try.”

When she turned around finally, she was frowning. “It���s not something you ‘try’, John. There are no trial runs. No sims. You can’t fuck it up, you don’t get to reset to alpha position.”

Jaw setting with determination, he pushed away from the doorway. “Then we don’t fail.” They’d been forged with a will to succeed at all costs as ingrained as the fundamental functions of breathing, eating, or sleeping. 

“And we’re going to base it off of what? How Mendez treated us? The other drill instructors? AIs?” Briar moved to bypass him, but he prevented her by blocking her path. It wasn’t difficult in the confined space. “I won’t be responsible for screwing some kid up as badly as we were.”

“Some kid?” John repeated, chest tightening at the description of the child even now developing in her womb. He searched her features for some sign she held no attachment whatsoever to the new life they’d inadvertently created. All he saw was diffidence and frustration. This time when she tried to squeeze past, he caged her in against the cabinet the sink was built into, an arm to either side to keep her there. “I see you,” he told her, voice even despite his own inner turmoil. He couldn’t pressure her into a role she wasn’t prepared to undertake. Even if he’d come to the conclusion it was what he wanted. One of the few things he’d ever wanted - not because it was a duty he’d been trained and groomed to carry out, but because it was one he desired the privilege of fulfilling.

Dropping her gaze, she balled up the shirt. Her shoulders rose and fell with shallow breaths, another indication of her state of agitation. 

It wasn’t something that came naturally to him, but he brought one hand up to cup her face nonetheless, offering her the comfort he perceived she required in that moment. He still recalled the light and foreign touch of her own fingers upon his cheek in ‘Vadam’s keep. It’d been the first time anyone other than Fred, Kelly, Sam, or Linda had laid a hand on him for a purpose other than addressing an injury, delivering punishment, or examining his MJOLNIR since he’d been conscripted into the Spartan program. She’d advised him not to analyze it, but that’d proven impossible when, from that moment forth, a steadily growing part of him he hadn’t previously known existed had craved that contact. Expressing that hadn’t been something he’d been aware of how to do, or even whether he should do. 

“What’s going on in there?” she asked quietly.

Chagrined to have lost focus, his brow furrowed. He ran his thumb over the dirt smudged across her cheekbone, but it didn’t remove the blemish. Neither did it diminish her appeal, however. “Thinking,” he answered. “About you.” About how much had changed for him in the time they’d known each other, none of it anything he could have ever predicted.

She was waiting for him to elaborate, he could tell.

“And about being something other than a Spartan.” Something more. Something he chose. “But only if it’s what you want.” 

Her lips grazed his palm as she turned her head. She pressed a kiss there. “I want you.” Rising up onto the balls of her feet, she gripped his shoulders, the t-shirt slipping to the floor. “I want everything. With you. And it scares me, John.” And he could see it in her eyes. That terror. The fear of daring to want something. 

Carefully drawing her in close with an arm around the small of her back, which hadn’t sustained any gouges, John held her gaze. “Someone told me being human can be like that.” He was expecting physical repercussions for the cheeky reminder, namely a punch, but gladly obliged when Briar instead tugged on his tags. Lowering his head, he released a pained grunt when her mouth only briefly met his before she captured his lower lip between her teeth. 

“Smartass,” she scolded him with relish and then kissed him - properly this time. 

[libsterslobsters]

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

 Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

 The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

 Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

 Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

 If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

 The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

 Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

 “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

 “Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

 Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

 It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

 “I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

 She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

 “Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

 “Oh.”

 Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

 “I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

 “I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

 “No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

 It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses  her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

 So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

 Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

 He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

 He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

 “Hey, Doll.”

 “I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

 “At what?”

 “The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

 “How-”

 “I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

 “Jesus.” 

 She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

 “So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

 “I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

 She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

 “Better than you are.”

 “What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

 “No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.”  Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

 “Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

 “I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

 “Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

 “That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

 “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

 “Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

 “See you then.”

 As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

 His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember. 

 By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

 She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

 It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

 “Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.  

 “Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

 She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

 True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

 “Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

 “Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

 “I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

 “I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

 They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

 Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

 “Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

 “Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

 It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her.  He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

 “You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

 “Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

 “It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

 “I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

 “Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

 “I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

 “I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

 “I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

 As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

 “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

 “Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

 “You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

 “Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

 “Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

 “Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

 “Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

 “Yes.”

 Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

 “May I touch you?” She nods.

 “You’d better.”

 It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

 “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

 “What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

 Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

 “Are you okay?” She nods.

 “Don’t stop.”

 The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

 “Do you still want to-”

 “If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

 “I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

 “Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

 He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

 “I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

 He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

 “Definitely.”

 There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

 “Can you wait a second? Please?”

 “Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

 “Fine. You can move now.”

 She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

 “I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

 “I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

���The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

 That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

 “Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

 His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

 She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

 She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

 “Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

 “Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

 Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better. 

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like  her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

 “I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

 “Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

 “Nothing.” He shakes his head.

 “Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

 “Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

 “No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

 “I did.”

 She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

 “Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

 “Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

 Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

 “Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

 “And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

 “Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

 “That’s not the same thing.”

 “How is it not the same thing?”

 “I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

 She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

 “Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

 “Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

 “Hey!”

 “Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

 “So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

 “But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

 A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

 “Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

 He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

 “I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

 “That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

 “Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

 Smirking, he asks her,

 “You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

 “Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.”  That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

 “You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

 “I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

 “I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

 “And what’s that?”  The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

 “Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

 “So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

 “Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,937 Words

Summary: Katsuki, stop being a stubborn kid.

Warnings: Child Abuse Mention, Eating Disorder Mention, Food Mention, Forced Eating Disorder Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Notes: I’ve changed Shinsou’s birthday to April 20th because I can.

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 6

5:28 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: I swear to god, if you say you're going out for a run, Katsuki.

deku deck-you: ...

deku deck-you: I'm totally not going out for a run.

feral cat dad: Kid, you don't need permission or even to tell us. You're allowed around school grounds, to leave, to the school, ya know. As long as you have your pass for the door, you're good, nothing's stopping you.

deku deck-you: I don't need to tell you where I am?

feral cat dad: No, what you do is your own business. Me and UA are just here to house and teach you. Your actions are your own, you don't have to tell us them.

deku deck-you: Oh.

feral cat dad: It's okay if you want to, but you never have to feel obligated to tell me or anyone else, either.

deku deck-you: It's just my mom made me tell her what I was doing every time I left the house.

feral cat dad: Well, I mean, I obviously know what you're doing every morning at 5:30. So, even if I'm worried, I know what you were doing. I'm also not your mom, I don't want to know where you are every second because you're a kid being a kid, you deserve some privacy. God knows you need privacy after not seeming to have it for fifteen years.

deku deck-you: Thank you, Mr. Aizawa.

feral cat dad: You can call me Dad if you want.

deku deck-you: Dad.

farmer toshi: Child-hoarding Dad.

feral cat dad: You're not wrong.

5:33 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: @deku deck-you, I'm coming, Kats. Wait up.

deku deck-you: Come on then, hurry up.

deku deck-you: You get those wires off today, right?

farmer toshi: Yup. Recovery Girl's fixing me today.

1:16 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: It's official. I can menace once again.

feral cat dad: If you're terrorizing villagers, please don't bring them back armed with pitchforks, I don't like fire.

5:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Kats, where are you, I don't see you.

farmer toshi: @deku deck-you Did you get up early or something?

farmer toshi: Hey, @foil-mecha, Tokoyami, you're in room 9. Have you heard anything in his room?

foil-mecha: His phone pinged when you @ed him. And I swear I heard him moving around a bit earlier.

farmer toshi: Do you think he's okay? Maybe he's sleeping again?

foil-mecha: No, usually he's up for the day once he's up.

feral cat dad: God, did he push himself too much to recover quickly?

President Megaphone: I'm in early, I'm coming over and checking on him since you're in not position to help him if he's hurt, Shouta.

feral cat dad: Fine.

6:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

foil-mecha: Is Katsuki okay?

farmer toshi: He fine, just malnourished. He passed out after he woke up, ended up hitting his head a little on the ground, and getting a minor concussion.

gay salt: How!?

deku deck-you: I thought our parents were the ones that paid for our groceries but my parents have told me they won't do it.

feral cat dad: Don't worry about him and his stubbornness, I'll be bringing him to the store later once he feels better and making him pick up foods.

ranch flavored jello: Katsuki! The card you got! The barcode! You just scan the barcode! UA pays for your food while you're in the dorms!

deku deck-you: I know that now, Toru. I thought our family or parents paid for our food.

4:16 PM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Okay, get dressed and get a list if you want, kid. What foods do you like?

deku deck-you: Well, I'm allergic to shellfish.

feral cat dad: You've been eating with us all week and you didn't tell us you were allergic to something?

deku deck-you: I avoided things that had shellfish in them.

feral cat dad: Katsuki.

deku deck-you: You act like my mother didn't practically force me to have allergic reactions when she was tired of me.

feral cat dad: You're right, I do act like that because that's not okay. It's abuse, Katsuki, and I want you to be safe and happy. So please, tell me if you can't or even don't want to eat something.

deku deck-you: Alright.

feral cat dad; Okay, anything else you're allergic to?

deku deck-you: No, just shellfish.

feral cat dad; Anything you particularly like?

deku deck-you: Mackerel with spinach, mushrooms, and chili oil.

feral cat dad: Then we'll grab the stuff for you.

President Megaphone: I'll spoil you, kid, I'm your uncle now.

deku deck-you: If you plan on spoiling me, get me those sausages that look like octopi. I love them but I haven't been allowed to buy them for around five years.

President Megaphone: I swear, Shouta, this nephew will get all the sausages. UA is willing to buy.

feral cat dad: I know, but don't go all 'grab it all' at the store, Hizashi, the kid can grab his own food at his own pace. You can pick him up extra ones whenever. We're letting him pick up his own groceries probably for the first time in his life. Don't overwhelm him.

foil-mecha: Can you pick me up boiled octopus and baby sardines, Mr. Aizawa?

feral cat dad: Sure, I'll grab you a bunch of fish, kid.

foil-mecha: Much appreciated.

deku deck-you: Is there a limit I can use?

feral cat dad: No, there isn't. UA is full of future heroes who will likely need to build muscle to save others, to do that, you need to eat well, Nezu's rule for us dorm kids has always been to make sure we eat, he doesn't care how much it costs as long as you're healthy.

deku deck-you: Wow, that's actually. Just wow.

farmer toshi: Your shitty parents put you on a budget, huh?

deku deck-you: Usually I had to cost less than 1,000¥ per week. It was hard, especially building muscle to be a hero. I ate rice and eggs a lot so I wasn't completely starving but it was always hard living with them.

ranch flavored jello: Aren't your parents like famous or something? Why did they want you to be on a budget?

deku deck-you: They didn't like dealing with me besides to scream at me. I think it was to keep me from leaving them. They'd hand me exactly 1,000¥ every week I had to use my money for food because they wouldn't buy food for me after I turned 5. Then they'd still tell me what I couldn't buy.

foil-mecha: I feel great rage toward your parents and I hope they have a horrible life now without you.

deku deck-you: I do too, don't worry.

4:30 PM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you has started a video call

Hey, Kats, how's your shopping going? -foil-mecha

Are you upside down, Tokoyami? Why are you...? -deku deck-you

I'm on the couch. I refuse to sit correctly. -foil-mecha

Dad and Uncle Zashi are off getting dinner for tonight because Dad's getting a little souped out. So they're picking up some stuff for that and I didn't want to feel alone. -deku deck-you

Hey, little bro. -farmer toshi

I turn 16 tomorrow for your information. Call me 'little bro'. I'm probably the oldest of us kids in the dorms right now. -deku deck-you

I turn 16 tomorrow. -farmer toshi

Oh my god, I practically have twin sons now. -feral cat dad

Deal with it, Dad. -farmer toshi

Looks like I'm going over to the cake section and picking up two cakes. - President Megaphone

Strawberry. -farmer toshi

You don't have to. -deku deck-you

No, I don't have to, but I'm going to. -President Megaphone

Anything. -deku deck-you

You're getting your own cake, Katsuki. I'm not just gonna pick you up anything. What's your favorite cake flavor?  C'mon, little listener.-President Megaphone

I don't know. I've never had cake before. -deku deck-you

So a variety cake. I can work with that. -President Megaphone

Hey, Kats, can you grab those meat buns and red bean buns in the red bag to your right for me? -nat20

Yeah, okay. -deku deck-you

You're amazing. -nat20

What have you picked out so far, Kats? -ranch flavored jello

Uh, mushrooms, spinach, bean sprouts, eggs, mackerel, and Seiko's bun thing. I'm in the meat section so I'll probably pick up two of those...-deku deck-you

Two of what? -saviour

I got em. Those octopus sausages. I found them. I'm getting two of them.  Are you guys sure I'm not spending too much? -deku deck-you

Pick up anything you will either eat or give to someone else who will eat it. -feral cat dad

As long as you're sure. -deku deck-you

What'd you pick up, twinsie? -farmer toshi

Boiled octopus, bacon, ham, chicken, another two sets of the buns. -deku deck-you

Are you picking up things to eat with rice and eggs out of habit, Kats? -foil-mecha

I wanna buy what I know I like first before I buy things I won't eat. I already hate spending money as it is. -deku deck-you

Reasonable. Just make sure you pick up snacks for yourself since training for a Sports Festival takes a lot out of you. -feral cat dad

I am. Ooh, yoghurt. -deku deck-you

I'm right here, Katsuki. -feral cat dad

Hi, Dad. Alright, I'm ending this. Y'all text me if you want something else. -deku deck-you

Bye, twinsie. -farmer toshi

deku deck-you has ended the video call

5:30 PM

Existence Is A Prison

President Megaphone: I'm getting started on dinner. Should be done by 7.

deku deck-you: Can I eat my ice cream?

feral cat dad: You're allowed to eat whatever and whenever.

deku deck-you: I know, I just worry. It'll go away, I hope. I just get worried.

feral cat dad: Getting worried is normal. I was too when I was in your position.

deku deck-you: You were in my position?

feral cat dad: Kind of. Back then, fifteen years ago, there was no teacher or other students in the dorms, just me and Nezu. I was fresh from nine years in a foster home that would spend the money meant to support me on their own son.

feral cat dad: For the first month, I didn't buy myself food. I'd eat breakfast and lunch on school days and skip dinner and meals on weekends because I was scared of spending UA's money.

feral cat dad: After almost a month with no financial transactions on my account and the Sports Festival coming up, Nezu did a surprise inspection and flipped out when there was no food in the kitchen. He forced me to the store and made me buy dinner for us two because he wouldn't allow a student under his roof to not have food for themselves.

feral cat dad: Nezu sat me down and told me the same thing I told you and, after the Sports Festival, I actually bought myself and four friends dinner at a nice restaurant to celebrate me and my friend's winning tie and I paid the bill without even thinking about it.

gay salt: Wait, there was a tie at the sports festival?

feral cat dad: The first year rounds fifteen years ago, the only winning tie because we refused to fight again.

gay salt: I'll have to watch that and see my badass teacher fighting.

feral cat dad: The sports festivals are all free to watch on your televisions in your rooms, no need to pay to watch on YouTube.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust 

[copias-thrall]

Spank Day

As promised, Suey gives Mary his first scheduled spanking.

⬅️ Previous

You promised to give Mary a spanking before his band left for their 2-week tri-state tour, and Mary hasn’t let you forget it.

Just talking about logistics gets him so hot and heavy that the conversation usually devolves into him rutting into you while he talks about all the things you’re going to do to him.

Finally, the two of you had decided on having Spank Day two days prior to his leaving, and you’ve been getting a barrage of texts from him all day with just those two words: Spank Day.

You’re ignoring them, knowing that it’ll make Mary even more worked up if you don’t give him any kind of hint.

No one ever said you were nice.

You place yourself on your couch, the perfect picture of poise and decorum, and start thumbing through a book.

When Mary bangs into your place, you don’t even look up.

“Fuck. Did you get my texts?”

Flip.

“What texts?”

Flip.

“Suey.”

You look up at him.

He’s not quite a mess, but he’s fidgeting, and there’s a high color to his cheeks.

“I do work, you know,” you sniff.

He shifts from foot to foot, looking unsure.

Flip.

“Fuck’s sake, Mare. Stop hovering and go put your stuff in my room.”

You can practically hear the petulance as he shuffles away.

But you smile. 

Not too long ago, you’d made your bed all nice (something that you really only did on the days you put on clean sheets—so infrequently) and laid both the hairbrush and the wooden spoon on it in clear view.

You hear a Fuck, and then Mary’s quick footsteps back into the living area.

His breath is hot on your neck as he leans over the couch.

“You’re so fucking mean.”

Flip.

“C’mon!” He tugs at you, but you remain rooted to the spot.

“Don’t be pushy," you say with your best nonchalance. "I think you need a lesson in patience.”

“Suey…”

You turn your head to him and snap in his face.

“No whining.”

Grabbing a couch cushion, you toss it on the floor next to your feet.

“Calm down first. Then, we can have some fun.”

Well, he can. 

You’re already having fun.

Mary whines again, but you hear him kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. When he rounds the corner of the couch, he's giving you stink face, but he complies easily, getting onto his knees on the cushion.

When you hear him grumbling, you bop him on the head with your book.

“Shh.”

He huffs, but quiets down, shifting as he settles into his kneel.

You run your fingers into his hair, and he shivers.

Flip.

A chapter and a half later, he’s lax and swaying into your touch.

You splay the book down on the couch.

“Mary.”

He sighs.

You lean down and press a kiss behind his ear.

“Count down from 50, then join me in the bedroom.”

He gives another shudder, and you vault over the couch.

It’s just enough time for you to double check that everything’s in place before you settle comfortably onto the bed.

Mary shuffles in, eyes black and half dazed, and you point at his remaining clothes.

“Strip.”

He’s quick to suck off his boxers and socks, then yanks off his shirt by the back of the collar—he tosses them haphazardly. His cock isn’t hard, but it’s filling, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not the right time for a sloppy blow job.

You pat your thighs, and after Mary lays himself half across you and half onto the bed, you smooth your palm over his ass.

“Comfy, Mare?”

“Yeah,” comes his muffled response.

“I’m going to warm you up now.”

You feel his cock twitch, and you smirk. Your hand would start stinging before Mary would even shift uncomfortably from an open palm.

Which is why you only use it to warm him up.

You give him ten on each cheek, alternating placement, and—true to your expectation—Mary barely twitches.

Taking up the hairbrush, you tap his ass a few times before rubbing the head around each cheek—to let him know what’s coming.

Raising it up into the air, you hesitate, smirking when you see his ass clench in anticipation of the smack.

“Settle,” you purr, and Mary melts back onto the bed.

You’re already slicing through the air to land the first hit, and Mary gasps (though you’re sure it’s more from surprise than from actual hurt.)

He’s expecting the hit on the next ass cheek, which is fine.

You’re just getting started.

By the time you’ve applied ten more on each cheek to his sit spots, Mary’s breathing hard, but not quite squirming.

He flinches when your hand meets his heated flesh, then relaxes as you soothe out the sting with a few judiciously applied caresses.

You’re pleased by the deep pink blooming on his bottom. (You’ve never understood his inclination to bite your ass as much as when you’re admiring your handiwork on his.)

Instead of sinking your teeth into him, however, you take up the wooden spoon. Mary loves his brush so much—more into a thud than a sting—but he never complains when you switch it up. And seeing as this is inaugural Spank Day—a precursor to his first serious tour while dating you—you want to make an impression.

He saw both implements laid out, so your application of the spoon won’t be a surprise, but you still tap him and run it around his heated cheeks. Mary trembles—subtle, clenched things—but you’re sure it’s more from anticipation than anything.

“You ok, buddy?”

He hums out an Mmm, but you press.

“Yes or no, Mare.”

“Yeah…” he exhales.

“And your safeword?”

“Nickelback, ma’am.”

You smooth your hand around his ass again.

“Good boy.”

Without warning, you bring the wooden spoon down onto his ass.

He hisses, but you’re already bringing the smack down on his other cheek. A grunt escapes him, but it sounds way too pleased for your taste. You spend the next several minutes applying little swats to his each ass cheek in a clockwork pattern, never letting up or taking a breather.

Mary’s slight wiggle turns into squirm. 

His squirm turns into violent jerks. 

Soft exhales of pleasure have turned into pants of endurance.

“Shit. Shit.”

His fists grip the sheets as he tries not to get away from you.

As his ass turns from a pretty blush to a deep pink into an angry red, you look on with an almost detached wonder (even if the slick on your inner thighs belies your invested interest). You almost wish you had a real paddle to switch to.

He’s still not fully hard, but his cock can’t decide if it wants to be soft or semi-full. In the meantime, it leaves sticky trails of precum over the tops of your thighs.

You keep going…12 o’clock…3 o’clock…6 o’clock…9 o’clock….

Mary’s trying not to twist off your lap as he gasps at each smack. You’re giving him no time to recover, and he’s whining into your now crumpled comforter. You’re a little embarrassed that you’ve lost count—but he's very distracting like this.

You stop, and Mary tries not to curl in on himself as he sniffles.

Smoothing a hand over his ass, you ask, “Enough?”

He rubs his face into your blanket.

You grab his ass, and he cries out.

“Yes or no, Mary.”

His heaving chest is now from his tears, but he stutters out, “A-a f-few more?”

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes. Please.”

He’s crying, but not sobbing, so you say, “Five more on each side, and then we’re done.”

You’re trying to walk the line between giving him what he wants, but recognizing his limits—even if he himself can’t see them.

He whines in assent, and you proceed, raining down your stinging swats as Mary jerks and cries out from each blow.

“Done,” you say on the last one, and Mary finally lets go. It’s not an ugly cry, but he lets it all out into your bed until you shift his head into your lap, and then he wraps his arms around your middle as he sobs into your stomach.

“Very good, Mare,” you coo as your hands travel through his hair and over his bare skin. “You took that so well. You’re a very good boy. So, so good.”

His sobs quickly turn to hiccups, and you soothe him.

“I’m gonna get you your ice pack, ok?”

He whimpers, but his arms loosen from around you. You make sure he’s comfortable on the bed before sprinting to the fridge. The chocolates and arnica cream are already on your nightstand, but you’ve kept the glass of Pedialyte in the fridge and his ice wrap in the freezer.

When you get back, however, his mood has changed completely.

He’s on you immediately, his lips smearing across your face and his hands roving everywhere.

“Can I fuck you? I wanna fuck you. Please let me fuck you.”

You take his face in your hands and make him look at you.

“If I let you fuck me, will you let me care for you after?”

He nods emphatically. “Please.”

You strip before lying back onto the bed. Mary doesn’t seem to know where to put his face first. His lips brush yours before they’re on your neck, then in between your tits…and then back up to tangle his tongue with yours. Letting him have this, you run your fingertips down his skin as you murmur soft words of encouragement at him.

You’re still wet from the spanking, and Mary only needs to rub his cock up and down through your slit a few times before you’re slicking again. He sinks into you with a grunt, his hips not hesitating for a second before he’s pumping into you.

He tries to burrow his face into the juncture of your neck as his sweaty bare skin slip slides over yours, and you rake your nails down his moist back. Too soon for you to even try to get off, Mary lets out a series of low grunts as he cums, and you let him suck into the line of your shoulder as he does.

It’s a little irritating, but Mary’s usually so good about giving you yours that you write this one off.

He pants into your skin, and you run your fingertips up and down his dewy back.

“Good?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he murmurs.

He’s a little cranky when you extract yourself to care for him, but you manage to get everything he needs in or on him with a few firm words and gentle touches.

Soon enough, he’s lying on his stomach, ice wrap on his ass, with his head in his arms as you pick back up with your book. He dozes off easily—and you roll your eyes—but your wand is close enough at hand to ease your frustration that you fade into a doze not long after as well.

When you wake again, Mary is sprawled over you—his arm across your middle and his one leg in between yours.

He must’ve been awake, because when you stir, he’s quick to speak.

“Hey,” he rasps.

“Mmm. I feel asleep.”

He presses his lips into your pulse point.

“S’was nice.”

“Me falling asleep?”

“The spanking.”

You survey the bed and see the wrap has been abandoned.

“Shit. You need more ice, Mare?”

“No,” he murmurs into your neck. Then, “Maybe.”

You chuckle, but when you go to move, he practically shifts his bulk on top of you.

“Not yet.” His hands wander up and down your naked form. “Miss you,” he sighs.

“You’re not gone yet, Mare. And it’s only 2 weeks.” You pat his ass gently. “And you’ll have this to remember me by.”

He grunts and wiggles away from your touch.

“S’not the same.”

His hand comes up and grabs your tit.

You roll your eyes.

“Mare. I’ll be here when you come back.”

He sighs.

“Promise?”

You kiss the top of his head.

“I promise, baby.”

Next ➡️

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 42

THE ROAD SO FAR

This chapter was a mess. But it's my mess.

FOUR weeks of Silence

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Veteran's Village

A peaceful Sunday meant that Roach, Alex and Soap were chilling at the house Samantha and Maxine were in. It had been 4 weeks since that Cuban incident and Francine had gone to therapy for her near death traumatic experience. If it wasn't for Soap, she would've been left out there for good.

France thought that it would be healthy to stay in a more domestic setup rather than the base so she took her time off duty to recover in the veteran's village. And ever since that day in Cuba, Soap and France's relationship was more expressive than ever.

"If we're having a barbecue tonight, we better head off to the meat shop." Alex peeked by the door, giving a heads up to the rest of the people sitting on the couch. Soap turned his head to Alex and tossed his keys as Roach stood up and came with Alex.

"Any other requests?" He looked at the group then to Maxine, who shook her head and laughed. 

"Just be back safe." She replied.

"Got it." Gary nodded and waved goodbye at them. Soap wanted to come along but France had been falling asleep on his lap for quite a while. And Maxine and Samantha noted that she hadn't had decent for days.

"Oh, Roach! Grab me a cigar maybe." He whispered, trying not to wake France up.

"Roger that." He nodded and made his way to Soap's jeep, where Alex was already waiting on him. He sat himself on shotgun and let Alex lead the way to their destination.

He turned on the radio as it played a song about driving. Roach was quick to shazam it and found out it was Automobile by KALEO.

"Now this is going to be on my playlist." Alex said as his head nodded to the music, taking him where the winds take him, far away.

"Agreed. Oh, Soap actually asked for cigarettes so we might have to stop by a convenience store on the way back." Roach informed as the song ended. 

"Okay. That's cool. Maybe add a few sodas for the girls. They probably haven't had those i  ages." He said as he turned the radio off and switched it to AUX.

"Here. Grab my phone and play that song again." Alex instructed as he drove through the streets, and Roach followed him. Playing the song again.

"Ah yes. This song is good." Alex sighed.

"Yeah. It's fire." Roach commented, making Alex raise an eyebrow.

"You know, fire… lit… slaps… Modern terminologies." Roach explained shyly as Alex chuckled.

"I'll never understand the young ones of today." Alex chuckled as he stopped by the parking lot, pulling his phone and leaving the car.

Dinner was the best part of the Sunday evening as the three couples enjoyed a hearty meal together, sharing experiences and funny stories like an extended family. Roach talked about his raccoon story once again as one topic led to another until such time that the inevitable topic was discussed.

"Speaking of fires, do you have any leads on Nero?" Samantha asked innocently as the men fell quiet, looking at each other. Wondering who would open up the topic.

"Well, uh… After his assault in New York…" Soap trailed off, his eyes went to Alex, signaling him to continue.

"Alex, it's your girl's question! Go answer it!" Soap complained as France laughed, wrapping her arms around Soap.

"He's gone silent." Alex muttered. Samantha was kinda sad she asked about it so she tried to make up by brightening up the mood.

The night continued on as the group played charades, girls vs boys. For an hour or so the soldiers forgot about their worries and acted like they're normal people living their normal lives outside work. It wouldn't hurt to pretend like that, especially when the baggage of guilt was hard to handle.

"So, Gary. I've been meaning to ask you something…" Maxine said as she assisted him in the kitchen.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"How are you… like mentally. You seem… off." She asked, Gary sighed and eased his shoulders.

"It's just… we almost lost a life back there… for nothing. Lannister hasn't said any useful information and as the days go by another assault might occur." he breathed out his worries, earning a back rub from Maxine.

"People have their limits. Lannister could break anytime. Let's just hope we're not too late." She assured him. It was a very negative statement but somehow it's actually helpful. Gary smiled and gave her a hug.

"Thanks Maxine." he said.

"Yeah. Don't ever think you're alone. I'm here for you. Actually, just last night. I had another memory restored. And it felt so important that you have to know it first. Before…" she said, her voice lowering down after every word.

"Before what?" Gary whispered jokingly. Maxine laughed and hit his chest gently.

"Nevermind that word. Back to my memory…

I…" she trailed off, looking like she was too shy and scared to finish the statement.

"You…?" Gary raised an eyebrow. Maxine took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I had an ex-girlfriend." She blurted and paused right after saying it, bracing at what Gary's reaction.

"I- uh.. That's okay… There's nothing wrong with that, Maxine." He said like he meant it. Maxine was too shocked about his reaction. Maybe she thought about it too much.

"Like… does that change anything?" She asked.

"Nothing at all. Oh wait! Yes! It does." Gary announced and Maxine's smile almost dropped.

"It means that if I want to have you, I'll have to step up my game. I have more competition now." He realized and Maxime sighed in relief. This man was about to get some scolding.

"You worried me, you know!" He continued gently hitting on Gary's chest, giggling away all her fears. He still accepted her. This was great.

"My point's valid!" He laughed, defending himself from her hits,.like children playing house. This may seem like a simple event, but this was the beginning of something new for the two of them.

Task Force 141 Base - Interrogation Room

Price sat in front of Gabriel, they've been silent for about an hour now as Gary and Soap stayed on the viewing area to observe the interrogation. Alex was here thirty minutes ago but he left after he got a phone call.

"What kind of twisted play is this?" Soap asked, crossing his arms and looking at Gabriel.

"The bastard won't talk. Just cut off a finger or something." He scoffed. To Gary, it would make sense, but with all the cameras and the formalities, It wasn't allowed. Especially that Gabriel's alibi was that he got their first to investigate. Which was total bullshit.

"He still has his ace on his sleeve. As long as we don't find proof of involvement, he's going to be free soon." Gary commented, making Soap grumble some Scottish curses.

"It's pretty obvious!" Soap yelled as Alex entered the interrogation room, saying something to Price as they immediately left him alone. Whatever that message was, looked way more important than Gabriel.

"We've got a lead on Nero!" Alex said as he peeked on the door, making the two stand up immediately and head to the briefing room.

"Operation Eye of the Storm." Price announced.

"In 24 hours, Nero and his newfound friends will meet on a hotel in Prague. This intel was from one of the Resistance Leaders Alex once teamed up with. They reached out for help since Nero started to secure the whole city." Price paced back and forth on the big screen.

"The plan is to eliminate Nero and his allies. As simple as that. We have the element of surprise in our hands. Soap, I want you to position yourself on the clock tower, just by the hotel. A bullet to the head should work. Alex will be watching your six. Jack will be our eyes and ears inside the convention. He'll be signaling when they'll be out on the open. Roach and I will enter the building for cleanup. We only had one shot at this so let's make it count." Price briefed and everyone else murmured their thoughts, some were already thanking for a solid lead. This was it. The final showdown. The end of the war.

PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC

Alex and Soap already left the resistance safehouse, they had to be at the clock tower tonight, using the concealment of the night and the noise of the rain for cover. The perfect opportunity to say under the radar. Meanwhile, Roach and Price stayed to defend the place as Nero's men once again ransacked the streets just to ensure his safety. The world may have announced that the war in US was over, but Nero still had some cities under his control. This minor setback was the reason he's planning for something new. And they're here to stop it.

"Alright, Roach. Your replacements here." Price said as he stood up from his spot. 

"Get ready for the big day tomorrow." He added as he nodded and left his gun for the next person to use. Tomorrow's battle is going to be tough, and even though he didn't want to admit it, Roach needed some rest.

Despite the occasional gunfire and screaming, Roach was able to sleep. He didn't mind the battle outside the building as his battle was with Nero. Once Soap shot him dead, he would also want to shoot him again, just to feel satisfied.

0639H 

Hotel Lustig

Prague, Czech Republic

Roach hid on the west wing of the hotel, while Price was on the other side. They were both clinging on to the walls as their entrance was at the small opening where Soap would shoot Nero. Roach eyed the convoy just below him.

"Convoy's up ahead. Nero should be in one of those cars." Soap muttered.

"Can't see shit through the lens. He could be anywhere." Alex added.

"Easy lads. We'll have a clear shot once they're in the balcony. Right Jack?" Price asked. Jack didn't respond, but maybe the signal inside was too weak.

"Jack? Do you copy?" Price asked.

"Da. I do copy, Captain Price. I'm just here to get my old prisoner back. I've had him in the gulag for quite a while but it seems this is our first time meeting face to face." A russian voice which everyone assumed to be Nero said in the most villainous tone possible.

"You're too predictable, Captain." he said as he clicked something, prompting an explosion on the clock tower.

"Get down! C4!" Price yelled as the two soldiers jump out, falling on to railings. Alex landed on a fruit cart by the tower while Soap landed on the car, crashing it as it alarmed.

"Roach! Go help them out!" Price ordered as Nero's men started to circle around the two while the resistance team helped them defend. 

Roach quickly pulled Soap up who was groaning in pain. Alex looked pained too but the look in their eyes says that they're still willing to end this today.

"Let's catch up with them." Alex said as a resistance member tossed them a rifle and quickly hid for cover, pushing their way into the hotel. At the corner of Roach's eye, he saw Price enter the building, loading his gun and ready to end this as well.

Next Chapter : THREE Bullets

Notification Squad my Beloved

@smokeywhalee @enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1

[kittybellestark]

Straightening Things Out

Part 2

Hey everyone so this is going to be a two part fic, tumblr told me I hit my limit soooo. 

This is the long awaiting MayxSkip with Bi!Peter fic I’ve been talking about, idk how long a 2nd part will take but I already have a bit written, which is super nice. Uh, yeah, this is heavy stuff, so prepare your hearts, bc mine hurts

TW: homophobia, depression, self harm, homophobic slurs, eating disorder (?), abuse, sexual assault, thoughts of suicide, questioning sexuality, alcohol

He’s not sure how he got here.

Well, he knows, but he just doesn’t understand it.

A year ago Peter was trying to get May with Happy. It seemed logical and safe. May wanted to get back into the dating pool, and while Peter was hesitant about the idea of May being with anyone other than Ben, he felt like Happy could be a good person for her to be with. That was safe, controlled even.

Pushing for May to be with Happy seemed like the right step. Supporting May in her decision to start seeing people again also make sense. Now, Peter regrets it. He should have told her no. That he wasn’t ready or comfortable with that.

He doesn’t understand why he’s in the bathroom cleaning up his own blood. He didn’t even go out as Spider-Man. Peter hates May’s new boyfriend.

Skip wasn’t safe. He wasn’t very kind either. And there was just something about him bothered Peter. And yet when Peter tried to talk to May about it, the complaints weren’t heard or taken seriously.

May doesn’t understand that Skip is a danger, and Peter can’t really talk to people about this.

Six months ago…

“Hey Happy.” Peter smiles jumping into the black ‘inconspicuous’ Audi.

“Hi Pete.”

After a few minutes of talking the conversation finally turns.

“How’s your aunt.”

Peter snorts, rolling his eyes. “She thinks she’s doing great. Still with Skip, he lives with us now. May isn’t very happy that Skip and I aren’t getting along too well though. She thinks that I have a problem with seeing her with other men, amongst other things.”

“Sounds like you don’t like him. I didn’t even think that was possible, you’re like a lab.” Happy chuckled.

“I resent that. I don’t like a lot of people who I don’t need to disclose to you. I was just expecting her to get with someone else, someone who was less I don’t know, just less.”

“You and me both kid. You and me both.”

-

Five and a half months ago…

Peter and May were making dinner together, the radio was playing softly and Skip was sitting in the dining room, beer in hand, listening to Peter and May’s conversation.

“How was school, baby?” May asked.

Peter hums as he chops some carrots. “There’s a new transfer at school. From Tennessee, he even lives with Mr. Stark.”

May pauses mixing the stir fry they were attempting to make. She smiles at Peter an eyebrow raised, waving the spatula at him.

“Is he cute?” She asked in a song-song voice.

Peter rolls his eyes with a smile. He sticks out his tongue, flicking some water at May. Skip watches with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, yeah he’s really cute. Blond hair, blue eyes, southern charm and he’s so smart too. And tall. May, he’s also like muscular too, his arms? He used to work in a mechanic shop where he grew up, he could probably bench press me without breaking a sweat.”

“Sounds like you have a crush!” May squealed pulling Peter into a hug.

“You have a crush on a man? Are you gay?” Skip huffed with a laugh.

“Bisexual, actually.” Peter deadpanned. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, not at all. Just surprised.” Skip laughed.

-

Five months ago...

May was at work, it was just Peter and Skip at home. Peter was in his room, the door was closed over, and Skip in the living room watching a sports game and drinking some beer.

While this wasn’t the most common occurrence, it wasn’t necessarily uncommon either. Peter would stay in his room and do homework or play some sort of online video game with Ned, Harley and MJ, typically Minecraft but sometimes they chose something else. Skip would watch sports or the news, but never a reliable source, always the Daily Bugle or Fox News.

Today was supposed to be like every other time. Peter was supposed to be in his room and Skip in the living room. But then Skip was in his room with him. Peter felt uneasy. It just didn’t sit right with him having the older man in his room.

“I think we need to talk, Pete.” Skip said sitting on Peter’s bed, while Peter stayed sitting at his desk.

“Sure, what about?” Peter tried to sound pleasant and kind, doing this for May.

“Well, I’ve been trying to broach this subject with you gently, but May and I have spoken about how we can cure you.”

Skip had the decency to look somber. His shoulders hunched forward, frowning. His eyes held remorse and regret. It only seemed to enrage Peter.

“Cure me? As far as I was concerned I was perfectly healthy.” Peter couldn’t help but snort.

“Of your sin, Peter. You like men, and we know that we have to cure you of it.”

It felt like all of the air had been taken out of his lungs. His heart stopped and the world blurred for a moment before Peter shook himself out of it. He pushed himself up out of his chair trying to back himself up, away from Skip. This wasn’t right. This was really wrong.

“May accepts me. She said so. She’s always supported me and accepted that I’m bi.”

“She didn’t know how to tell you she didn’t. She was crying quite a bit. May just didn’t know how to tell you. So she asked me to help fix you.”

Skip got up from the bed, walking over to Peter, trapping Peter in. Skip put an arm on each side of Peter’s body, resting his hands on the wall behind Peter. Peter felt trapped, his eyes wide as he looked around unsure of what he could do. May and Skip thought he was sick.

“She can’t-“ Peter cried, tears coming to his eyes. He didn’t want to accept it. This couldn’t be happening.

Skip put a hand on his shoulder.

“She does, Einstein, but it’s okay because I’ll fix you.”

-

Peter sat at their usual lunch table, Ned next to him, MJ, kiddie-corner to him and Harley across from him. His leg was bouncing as they all ate, but he couldn’t do more then push his food around his tray.

“There’s nothing wrong with me being bisexual right? Like, I’m still normal, I’m not sick or anything for liking more than just women right?”

It used to be old-hat for MJ and Ned to have to reassure Peter that being bisexual is okay. It was just last year that Peter finally started to feel secure in his sexuality and not question whether he was normal or not. It just always felt like Peter was faking his attraction to other genders.  

The group became silent with shock. None of them were prepared for Peter to have any insecurities about his sexuality, and it certainly wasn’t something that Harley was there to witness. It had been such a long time since he voiced this doubt. Ned and MJ gave each other looks, while Harley sat there starring at Peter slack-jawed.

“Sorry. I’ve just been in my own head recently. Bisexuality is valid and so am I. I know, I’m sorry, I just- what if I’ve been lying to myself this whole time? I’m sorry, I know I’m being silly.”

There was another moment of silence before Harley grabbed Peter’s hand.

“It’s not silly to question you’re own sexuality, Peter. Being bisexual is hard because people always try to invalidate you and tell you to just choose. It’s okay to be confused. Prefaces change from day to day and it is so confusing sometimes. We’re your people, we’re here for you no matter how you identify.” Harley smiled, something sad and soft.

-

Four and a half months ago...

Peter was trying to sleep. It wasn’t coming easily anymore. Skip and May were in the next room over. He should be able to sleep. But nothing felt right. Everything was always off, never normal, almost safe. It didn’t feel good.

There was the sound of footsteps in the hall before Peter’s door opened and closed. Peter tried to pretend to sleep, but the footsteps came closer to him then Skip’s hand was on his shoulder.

“Hey Einstein. I’ve got something for you.” Skip whispered, getting Peter’s eyes to open.

Peter pushed himself up and into the top corner of his bed, knees drawn to his chest. He really hated Skip. Hated his deep voice and pointy chin and crooked nose. He hated Skip’s receding hairline and beer belly. Peter hated Skip and everything about him. But mostly Peter hated that Skip and May knew there was something wrong with him.

Skip dropped some razors onto the bed. All loose and brand new. Peter looked at Skip like he was crazy. It was too late at night to register this.

“May and I were talking again. Anytime you have a sinful thought, any homosexual thoughts or desires just give yourself a cut. Obviously don’t do it in front of anyone other than me, but this should help bleed the faggot out of you.”

Peter gasped, eyes wide and shaking his head. He didn’t want to do this. Cutting himself was not something Peter ever wanted to start doing again. He got away from it, he recovered, and now the blades are being provided to him. Peter is being expected to cut this time. 

“I can’t do that. Anything but that Skip, please.”

Peter didn’t realize the tears that were pouring down his face, or how hard it was to breath. If it wasn’t for Skip wiping the tears from Peter’s face, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“Hey, no, no it’s okay, Einstein, it’s not as bad as it seems okay, look,” Skip took Peter’s wrist slicing it a few times, just enough to bring up blood up before handing the razor to Peter, “See? Nice and easy. Now I’m not going to leave until I see you try okay?”

Peter nodded, bringing the razor down on his skin and breathing a sigh of release as he broke his own skin.

-

Tony dropped food in front of Peter, two burgers and fries, before sitting down beside him. They were finally watching a movie after spending time in the lab and now Harley would be joining them too.

“Kid, we’ve talked about your eating habits. You need to eat more than a regular person. I don’t like seeing you lose weight this fast. I just like to see you happy and healthy.”

Peter knew he should say something. The razor in his pocket wasn’t normal and he should tell Tony. And his need to cut every time he thought about Harley, or the need to cut when he realized he was playing into Skips hands. But Peter didn’t want to lose his little therapeutic treatment again. He could do better at hiding it this time, especially with his healing factor now. Peter could keep this.

It’s his little secret with Skip. Peter could keep it safe. It made him feel better, and that’s what everyone wants, right?

“Oh yeah, sorry, I’ve just had a smaller appetite recently, I’ll do better, promise.” Peter nodded with a smile.

At that moment Harley walked into the room, giving Peter a crooked smile, a blush painted across his cheeks.

Peter would have to cut later, for thinking about Harley like that, and for doing what Skip told him and also for scarring Tony. Peter deserved this.

-

Four months ago…

Peter and Skip were alone together again.

It seemed to become more common now. Or maybe Peter was just getting used to having Skip try and cure him. He hated himself for wanting it to work. Peter just didn’t like himself much anymore.

“Einstein,” Skip slurred, “are you still a faggot?”

Peter flushed with shame, nodding. Peter really hated Skip for making him feel like this. For feeling shame for being bisexual and wishing he were straight. Peter hated himself a lot. He just wanted to be better.

“Shame, thought I’d have you straightened out by now. May is going to be disappointed to know you’re still a homo. I’ll have to start getting more aggressive with your treatments.”

Peter shook his head. He was already so tired, and he just wanted to feel safe in his home. He just needed to do what Skip and May wanted and then they’ll like him. All Peter needed to do was be straight, no matter what. He’s doing the right thing.

“How much more?” Peter’s voice cracked.

“As much as it takes to turn you straight.” Skip smiled.

He now gripped Peter’s face in both hands, thumbs on his cheeks. Skip used the hold he had on Peter to bring him towards the bathroom doorframe- the only metal frame in the house.

Peter didn’t fight. He was doing this for May. May wants him straight and wants Skip to do it. Peter scratched at his legs, where most of the cuts were, hoping that would convince Skip from stopping whatever he was doing. But it didn’t, of course it didn’t. Why would it convince Skip, when he’s only doing what’s best for better?

With his hold on Peter’s head, Skip jerked Peter’s head into the doorframe, with enough force to make Peter forget how to stand. Peter was only being held up by Skip's grip on his head when Skip lifted up his knee, forcing it into Peter’s stomach.

Peter groaned with the impact and Skip let him go and Peter fell to the ground. He barely managed to catch himself, resting his forehead on the cool floor. There was barely a moment before an on slate of kicks were delivered to Peter.

“No,” Peter sobbed, “stop, please, stop, stop, you’re hurting me.”

It was another few moments before Skip stopped kicking him with a huff. Skip sat down on the ground, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder to comfort the boy. Peter continued to sob, barely able to support his own weight to get himself sitting.

“Einstein, I just want you to know that I don’t like doing this. I don’t want to do this, but May and I agreed that I have to do this. I’m sorry Einstein, but it’s for your own good.”

Skip pulled Peter onto his lap, rubbing Peter’s back to bring him some comfort. Peter relaxed into Skip’s hold when he realized that there wasn’t going to be more pain. They sat there for a while before Skip finally stood up, as Peter’s sobs were finally ending, bringing Peter to his room and tucking Peter into bed.

-

“Peter I’m worried about you.” MJ said after Academic Decathlon practice.

Peter was wide eyed, holding his book bag in front of him, using it as a shield. His clothing that used to only be a little bit large on him, now swallowed him completely, his cheekbones were sharper and anytime his sweater moved a little bit, his collar bone was revealed to be protruding from his chest. Peter flinched at people who moved too fast and his skin was pale with dark bags under his eyes.

“I’m okay MJ.” Peter smiled, but his eyes were still empty.

“Are you cutting again? You’re acting like you used too. I don’t like seeing you lose your spark.”

MJ moved forward, grabbing Peter’s hands in her own. His hands were cold against hers and shaking slightly. Her head tilted just a bit as she searched for answers on Peter’s face.

“I’m not- no, I moved past that.” Peter lied.

He couldn’t tell her. He needed to cut. He needed the freedom it gave him, the relief. It was one of the only things he had anymore that he still enjoyed. By telling MJ, Peter would lose his sanity. Everything would be okay as long as he had a razor on him, as long as he got to cut his skin open.

But he should tell her. Maybe that would get everything to end. If he just told someone, maybe Skip would stop hurting him. Or maybe they’d push for Skip to continue on with trying to cure him. This was for the best, after all.

“Peter, you’re one of my best friends, okay? So if you were cutting again, hypothetically speaking, know that you can come to me, I won’t tell anyone. Not even May or my parents.”

Peter nodded, looking away from her, hating himself for lying and hating that MJ was trying so hard. It would have been so much easier if he just liked MJ instead of Harley.

“Look, look, MJ, see no cuts,” Peter rolled up his sleeves to show healed skin and no scars, “I promise, I’m just a little stressed out right now, don’t worry about me. I’m just focusing on myself for now, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay, well, when is the last time you ate?”

“Right before practice.”

It felt nice for Peter to actually tell the truth. He was eating almost as much as usual. Typically the same amount unless he had time alone with Skip. Peter was just stressed and sometimes couldn’t keep his food down, but he still ate more than enough. He should be able to keep up his weight, the weight loss just sort of happened.

-

Three and a half months ago…

May was working the overnight shift again. It was a school night so Peter was at the apartment with Skip instead of the Tower like he would be on weekends.

Peter was finally sleeping, well actually he was passed out from exhaustion, but it was still a sort of sleep, technically. Somewhere between Skip moving in and their ever-more-frequent talks “chats,” Peter started to lose sleep. He would stay awake later, slit his wrists longer, and on top of that the surprise beatings from Skip were really taking an affect on Peter. All except the desired affect.

Peter was still bisexual. He didn’t want to be bisexual anymore. He just wanted to be normal, straight. Liking men was wrong, Peter was wrong. May and Skip just wanted what was best for Peter. And this was what was best. Skip was just helping Peter. He was straightening Peter out. This was just want needed to be done.

Skip stumbled into Peter’s room. He saw that Peter was tucked in under his blankets deep in sleep and Skip couldn’t help but climbing into the bed too. He pulled the teen into his body, breathing in how Peter smells, nuzzling his nose behind Peter’s ear.

Peter woke up trapped in Skips arms. He panicked trying to get out, it was just like The Vulture dropping a building on him again. But this time it wasn’t concrete but instead a man. A man who was supposed to be in love with his aunt.

“Skip.” Peter whined trying to wriggle free.

The older man moaned, moving a hand down to feel Peter’s length.

“I didn’t realize that you’d rub off on me. You’re trying to turn me into a homo. Einstein, you’re rejecting your treatment and trying to change me instead, and I don’t tolerate this very much.”

Peter shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His whole body shook with nerves, and he thought he was going to vibrate out of his body.

“Skip, I promise I’m taking this seriously. I should be straight, I want to be straight. Just like you Skip, I’m trying really hard to be straight. I promise, I don’t want to be a disappointment to you or May anymore.”

The older man laughed, holding onto Peter tighter. He ground his hips further into the teen, making Peter whine and squirm more trying to break free.

“Einstein,” Skip moaned, “You’re ass, I swear it’s a woman’s. Your such a fairy, Einstein. I could just imagine you as a woman, you’re hair at your shoulders, this great ass and a tight pussy, your tit’s would probably be smaller, barely a handful, but you’d be so cute. Too bad you’re just bent.”

-

Harley sat across from Peter, cheeks blushed, watching Peter carefully. Peter no longer felt that the freckles painted across Harley’s cheeks and nose were cute, and he no longer felt comforted by being in Harley’s presence. Now Peter only felt dread. There was no more warmth or the feeling of being safe. 

Peter wasn’t attracted to Harley. He didn’t want to be with Harley, he was afraid of Harley. What Skip was doing was working. Peter was going straight. He wasn’t going to be bisexual anymore, he was only going to like women now.  Peter wasn’t going to be a freak or a fag or a fairy or a homo or bent. Peter was going to be straight. Skip was fixing him.

“Peter are you okay? You’ve been really spacey recently.” Harley asked keeping his voice soft and cautious. 

Peter smiled. It didn’t feel natural and probably didn’t look all that genuine, but Peter felt like he should be happy. He was happy that he this meant that May and Skip will not be disappointed in him. Maybe then Skip will like him. Now they can be a family

This is going to fix all of his relationships. People are going to like him better if he’s straight. He’ll only like women and be normal. It’ll solve so many problems for him.

“Yeah, Harls, I think I’m actually really good. Like, for real.”

Peter laughed, not one of his soft, bubbly and contagious laughs, the ones he was known for. Instead it was hallow and empty, self deprecating even. Harley’s eyes widened, suddenly more concerned for Peter than he’d been previously.

“Peter...” Harley sighed.

He reached out to grab Peter’s hand, watching Peter flinch back hard. Harley saw the moment Peter recognized what he did and how he tried to shake himself out of it, but he also saw how Peter moved to stay farther away from him.

“I’m good, Harls, really.” Peter nodded again.

“No, you’re not. There’s something seriously wrong. I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

-

Three months ago…

Peter and Skip were finally alone. May had been on a stretch of day shifts and Peter’s friends were more persistent on having Peter go out with them during evenings. They were even tracking his food intake. The group was becoming obsessive over Peter now. And Peter was sick of it.

But now Peter was home alone with Skip. He could finally tell the man the good news. It’s been well over a week since Peter had and romantic or sexual feelings for another man. There’s only been fear, with any he looked at. Peter didn’t want to be attracted to men. Skip was curing him. May and Skip will finally accept him again.

As soon as May stepped out of the apartment Peter left his bedroom and sat down on the couch beside Skip. The man smiled at the boy, licking his lips before pinning Peter onto the couch. Skip groped at Peter for a moment, before pressing sloppy kisses onto his neck.

“No, stop, Skip I don’t like this.” Peter fought. “I just wanted to tell you that it worked. I don’t- I’m straight. You cured me. It worked. You and May don’t have to be disappointed in me anymore.”

Skip laughed. Loud and boisterous, pressing his weight down onto Peter. His hands moved up and down the teens frame, removing Peter’s clothes. Peter struggled harder, tears pouring down his face, sobbing out pleas to be let go. He tried fighting it, fighting Skip to keep his clothes on.

“You see Einstein, while I’ve made you straight, you’ve made me a fag. So this is going to have to continue, just a little until I no longer view your twink-ass as jailbait.”

Peter sobbed harder, trying to use his elbows to get away. Instead, Skip just pressed a hand into a patch of fresh cuts, forcing Peter’s vision to white out for a moment, that was just long enough to take off Peter’s underwear off.

“Skip, Skip no. No. I’m not. I swear, I didn’t make you like men. I didn’t do it. I’m straight now. You fixed me, I swear. You need to stop. You don’t want to go there. You don’t want this.”

Peter tried begging. He tried pleading, but he couldn’t stop Skip. It was too late. Skip had a plan and he wasn’t going to stop.

“Real funny that you think you know what I want, Einstein. This is for the best though, I promise, I’m doing this for you.”

-

It was movie night with May. Skip was out meeting up with his old friend was college. So it was just Peter and May. In their living room.

Peter couldn’t sit on the couch. Well, sitting in general wasn’t really working. So Peter just laid down on the ground, and May took the couch.

“Peter, I’m proud of you, you know that?” May finally spoke, halfway through Tangled.

“You are?” Peter didn’t anticipate his voice cracking, but hearing that May was proud of him? It was worth everything.

“Of course, baby. Skip told me that you let him help you, and I’m so proud of you for accepting help. He said that you’re problem was resolved with his help too. I’m so glad you two are getting along.”

Peter heard the words of confirmation that what Skip has been doing is what May also wants. She’s proud of him. She’s happy that Skip fixed him. May is glad that Peter is straight and that Skip turned him. It breaks Peter’s heart to actually hear it from May.

Peter never wanted to do it anyways.

And yet here he is. Having done it for her. He did this for May. To be accepted by May. So that he isn’t a disappointment in her life. And he isn’t happy. He’s not happy with himself, or Skip or May. Peter thought this would make him happy.

Peter wishes he born properly. Born straight. Born not wanting to harm himself. He wishes that the feeling that he needs to die never existed. Peter wishes he could be himself and be loved by his family. It shouldn’t have to be one of the other.

“Thanks.”

He tried not to choke on the acid rising up his throat.

-

Two and a half months ago…

It doesn’t stop. Skip doesn’t stop. His brain doesn’t stop. The fear didn’t replace the attraction like Peter originally thought. It’s just more confusing now.

Peter just wanted this to end.

Skip wasn’t going to end this.

-

Tony and Pepper had invited Peter, May and Skip over for dinner. Tony had made loads of his famous lasagna, and Pepper made a spinach dip appetizer and they ordered cheesecake for dessert.

All the adults seemed to be having a conversation together while Harley and Peter talked among themselves.

“I have an announcement.” Skip smiled at May, bringing the attention to himself.

“I asked May to marry me yesterday and she said yes.”

Peter was sure that this would be what killed him. Skip was his life sentence for whatever Peter did wrong. Skip was going to be his step-uncle, his new guardian.

Tony, Pepper and Harley congratulated the couple, and Tony patted Peter’s shoulder. Wine was brought out Peter couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just, I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” Peter smiled pushing himself out of his spot.

“Hurry back Einstein, we’re gonna be a family, we have to celebrate together.”

Peter was going to be sick.

He nodded and left the room, shutting himself in the bathroom and throwing up.

This isn’t what he wanted. Skip can’t be there for the rest of his life. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.

-

One month ago…

Peter was sure Skip was going to kill him. Or use him forever.

Peter didn’t like either option.

-

“I don’t want them to get married.” Peter confessed.

Happy pulled the car over, turning in his seat to see Peter. The kid wasn’t looking very good, he reminded Happy of 2008 era Tony. It wasn’t a very good look on a kid.

“You feel like it’s too soon after Ben? Or is it because of how fast-paced their relationship has been?”

Peter had tried not to think about Ben since Skip moved in. He didn’t want to picture the look of disappointment Ben would give him. Peter didn’t want to think that he is a failure in Ben’s eyes. Ben would believe that Peter brought this onto himself.

‘With great Power Comes Great Responsibility.’

Ben always said that. And yet Peter failed. He gave away his power, and was completely responsible for where he is now. Peter did everything wrong and Ben would know that. He took his uncles advice, his dying words, and ruined them, broke them, tossed them in the trash and set them on fire. Ben would hate this Peter, and Peter knew that like he knew how to breathe.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just- I don’t think I’m ready for May to be married yet. It just feels like Skip is trying to replace his spot. I don’t want the to get married yet.”

Happy nodded in understanding, trying to give the teen a small smile.

“Pete, no one is ever going to replace Ben. He was your uncle, your guardian, your parent, he raised you. Skip could never live up to that.”

-

Present day…

There’s blood.

Peter is in the bathroom cleaning up his own blood and he doesn’t understand how he got here.

Well, he knows how. He just doesn’t understand it.

And he doesn’t know where to start cleaning it. Peter doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. This was all horribly wrong.

Peter knew he couldn’t stay here much longer though. Skip had gone back to his own bedroom, after a rough ‘session’ with Peter. And now Peter is alone, and bleeding and he needs to get out.

Peter picks up his phone and makes a call.

“Hey, can you uh, come pick me up, I can’t stay here, I need, uh I need to get out of here.”

“Yeah kid, you got it. I’ll be there in half.”

“Meet me, uh, two blocks up from here actually.”

“You okay, Underoos?”

Peter hung up the phone.

He hoped in the shower hoping the water would get rid of the blood, hoping the soap would wash Skip away. And when that didn’t work Peter put on an oversized sweater and large sweatpants. Peter packed untainted clothing into his book bag and left through his window and down the fire escape, putting his hood up.

This was a mistake.

Leaving was a mistake. Skip was only doing what he thought was- no. No. No. Peter can’t go back.

He won’t live through this. Peter doesn’t want to live through this.

He scratched at his arms as he made it to the spot that Tony was supposed to pick him up.

Peter was going to be sick.

How could he let it get this far? Peter shouldn’t have let this happen. This was all wrong. Why is he relying on Tony to take him away. What if Tony agrees with Skip?

Peter coughed up blood.

New plan.

Go with Tony, make sure his stomach isn’t bleeding, once he’s good, leave. Go fast. Stay away from cameras. Go to Canada. Or Florida. Get out of New York. Go far. Somewhere where May and Skip won’t think he’ll go.

Tony pulls up and Peter hops into the car quickly. Tony doesn’t start driving right away though. Instead he looks at Peter, seeing the fear in the boys eyes, as well the way he is unconsciously scratching his arms.

“What’s happening?”

Peter shakes his head, tears filling his eyes.

“Please, just drive, I can’t be here. Can’t be in the city right now.”

“Is this drugs?” Tony asks as he starts to drive, hoping that Peter won’t leave. “I don’t care if it is, I can get you help.”

“It’s not drugs. It’s probably be easier if it was drugs. Honestly, I wish it was drugs. I can’t go home though, okay? Please don’t tell May.”

“Okay. We can do that for now but I will eventually have to tell her where you are so her and Skip don’t get worried.”

“You can’t” Peter shouted jerking upright and pushing himself further away from Tony. “You can’t. Skip can’t know. He’ll kill me, I swear, he can’t know, I can’t go back.”

Tony nodded, as Peter seemed to fall apart in front of him, hoping that appearing casual while driving will keep Peter talking.

“So we don’t like Skip, alright. Is there a reason why?”

Peter sobbed and Tony was tempted to pull over right then and there, but he knows that scaring Peter would cause him to run, so he needs to keep driving.

“He said he’d help. He did the opposite.”

Tony hummed, bringing them out of the city and towards the compound. Peter was rocking himself slightly, clearly uncomfortable. He started to cough, blood splattering across his arms.

“What the hell, Parker?” Tony said stepping on the gas.

“No Skip, Tony. Promise me, we don’t get him involved even if that means keeping May in the dark. You bring Skip into this then I’m leaving. Okay?”

“Jesus, yeah, okay, promise. We’ll keep him out of this, I got you. No Skip, we don’t want him, I got it Pete.”

Peter nodded, feeling relief wash over him as he was finally in a safe spot. He was out. He was out of that god forsaken apartment. No Skip means he’s safe. Safety means he can finally sleep. So he closed his eyes.

-

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*Batfam fic-recs

*Some are Tim Drake Centric

**Some links are not working in mobile (and ONLY mobile) for some reason? And some titles that were bolded in the original post are ALSO not displaying on mobile correctly. Idk what to do about that, but you can still look up the fic, I guess.

The Bat’s Crest - livierambles

Note: I will always keep recommending this fic. It’s epic, thrilling, and hilarious and sometimes angsty. Also, everyone is confused, including the ones doing the confusing. Maybe especially the ones doing the confusing. Also, some Tim and Damian bonding, which is always nice.

Summary: Tragedy strikes the hero community when Bruce Wayne commits a crime so heinous even the best start asking for blood. However, as the heroes try to recover from the hit and carry out justice for their friends, a random assortment of people start acting oddly, including the current Speedy Tim Drake, a child hostage in Gotham, and a young man from an unremarkable circus amongst others. All of them seem intent on saving Bruce Wayne from the grasp of the Justice League for no apparent reason, going as far as betraying their previous allegiances.

Unknown to the Justice League, these people are equally confused. Clearly they're stuck in another dimension, but how do they get back? How did they even get here? Who else is stuck in this world? And how long will Tim's patience last? Back home, the Bat was a planetary symbol that struck fear in the hearts of criminals. In this new world, it has no meaning, save for the handful of stranded souls.

In the Shadows - Kieron_ODuibhir

(shortened) Summary:

“I’m not like you.”

The cowl still looked like something he was wearing, but Clark knew it was not. It flexed like skin when Batman narrowed his blank white eyes and said, “I can see you know that.” 

Chirp - AmariT

Summary: Every piece of the signal Tim unlocked revealed more locks, and by the time he broke through the last one, he was already mentally rehearsing his many upcoming talk show appearances. 'Yes,' he told the interviewer, 'it was difficult for me, a ten-year-old genius, to break open the worldwide alien conspiracy. That's why it took a whole hour.'

When the crackling audio started, he expected some weird alien language. Maybe squawks and high-pitched squeals mixed with musical woofs. Maybe they wouldn't talk at all, and images would beam directly into his mind. Maybe they'd talk in practiced English with a Midwestern drawl like their other resident alien.

Instead he heard a low, guttural voice growling out of his computer speakers. "Robin," it said. "Are you in position?"

A Better Cage - Mangaluva

Note: I was absolutely DELIGHTED to see a Young Justice Crossover with the Justice Lords (Earth-50) from the animated Justice League series, which is near and dear to my heart. I admit I haven’t really had much time to hunker down and read this, but even skimming, it’s an intriguing piece of work. Also, Justice Lords.

Summary: Wally's grateful to have woken up at all, really. He just doesn't know what to make of the world he's woken up in. At least they want to find a way to his world as much as he does, if not exactly for the same reasons...

Common People - AmariT

Note: The Bat boys are all Bruce’s blood sons, but it still feels very much like a found family. I haven’t really read everything in this series, but I feel the author has an amazing grip on all the characters. Lovely and heartwarming.

Summary: His whole life, Jason’s mom had told him his dad was Bruce Wayne, but he’d never been dumb enough to actually believe it. They lived in a rundown, one-room apartment in the worst part of town, and in every single picture he’d ever seen of that rich bastard he was wearing a suit or sipping champagne worth more than everything they’d ever owned.

But if he wasn’t Bruce Wayne’s kid, then what the hell was he doing sitting outside the man’s office in Wayne Towers?

Red Robin and the Hood - momoejaku

Note: Haven’t read this in a while, but it made an impression. Though it’s a fic set during the Red Robin arc, it very much is about both Tim and Jason. Plus, it fleshes out the Pru and Z a bit more, too.

Summary: Bruce Wayne is dead. Superman brought back his body, and the family mourned him, holding a quiet funeral in secret so that the legacy of Batman could live on. But not everyone has been able to put him to rest.

Reeling from the loss of Bruce, his identity as Robin and his trust in his family, Tim Drake sets out on a personal quest that will take him across the world to prove what he knows in his heart: that Bruce Wayne is alive.

Though intending to make his way alone, Tim reluctantly accepts help from his predecessor, Jason Todd, who knows from personal experience that death is not always as final as it seems.

Together, they are Red Robin and the Hood.

Liminal Spaces - Calamityjim

Note: Skimmed this only since I’ve been busy, BUT it does look well-written, and I’m always a sucker for alternate dimension/dimension travel intervention-type of fix-its. It’s a very specific trope.

Summary:

Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension.

Or

When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him.

Little Bird’s Vengeance - KatHarkness-Katara

Note: Crossover with Avengers. Awesome fic with Tim and Jason and some Outsider POV (via the Avengers) of these dimensional stragglers. I think Tim’s team shows up in the later chapters, too. If you’re reading on mobile, it’s still very much worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version.

Summary: Why is life never simple? Red Robin's ended up worlds away from home once again, and now what's he to do? What do the Avengers want from him; do SHIELD have another agenda; and is there any way back? Pre-New 52. No slash. Rated for inevitable language/violent themes.

A Displaced Red Robin - dragonprincess1988

Note: Worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version. Well-written fic! EMOTIONS! I love them. Younger Dick Grayson is adorable, Tim is a competent fixer-upper for other people but not so much himself. He’s kind of angsty and making YJ Dick want to keep him (and YJ Bruce, too, if you read between the lines). On the plus side, seems like he’s making good friends with Young Justice Roy. This fic was written before certain episodes of YJ came out, though, and the fic reflects/will continue to reflect that. Still, I give it five stars.

Author’s Summary: Tim gets transported to the cartoon Young Justice world, and he's not sure he knows how to deal with it. Attention: If you want to know about Artemis or people from Tim's world the final note on my profile is for you. Also, a special thank you to angel-gidget over at Tumblr, who made the wonderful cover art for this story.

The Till-then From the Ever Since - Keiron O_Duibhir

Note: Fandom classic. Definitely a must-read for Batfam fans, in my humble opinion.

Summary: It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason.

Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

The Wayne Family Ghost - pupeez4eva

Note: Please read this. Especially if you’re sad or anxious or just have time. I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s my go-to cheer-up fic. Absolutely hysterical.

Summary: In which Bruce realizes that having a legally dead son, who regularly hangs around the family, might be slightly problematic. 

Bloodline - chibi_nightowl

Note: Complicated family dynamics, this time centering around Tim, Selina, Bruce and, surprisingly, Damian. Jason and Dick make an appearance as supportive big bros, too. It works. Take a read, it isn’t that long.

Summary:

“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.”

Tim blinked. “My what?”

“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

Talon!Tim AU Series by keeptogethernow

Note: Found family, from a different angle. Cool fic and well-written.

Summary of Tso’ape Mumbichi, first in the series: Ten years ago, two people made a deal with the devil--unlimited funds in exchange for their child. And now it's time to pay up. But there's no way to ensure that the child will cooperate.

Shutterbug Series by goldkirk

Note: Exactly what it says on the tin! Found family.

Summary:

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird next door neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.

Thursday’s Child - anthalogia

Note: Well-written and has found family and Tiny!Tim? Automatic win.

Summary:

He’s not the first child with nowhere else to go that Bruce Wayne has taken in. Dick Grayson was the first and the most high-profile – because no one would have thought Bruce Wayne was interested in ever raising a child, let alone the orphaned son of circus performers – but Jason was maybe just as much of a shock to society for being a street kid who came out of seemingly nowhere. Tim Drake is ordinary by comparison – his parents died in a plane accident. He can’t think of anything very special about him except that he met Bruce a few times when his parents hosted parties to keep in touch with Gotham society.

Or, tiny Tim Drake is adopted by the Waynes a little earlier than scheduled.

We’re Not Driving (How did we get here?) - TimTheToaster

Note: Short and sweet, a little angsty, and then very sweet.

Summary:

Tim stared at his phone, as if that would change what was on the screen.

Dick Grayson @FlyingDGrayson

It took some doing, and in some cases a little blackmail, but we've finally got the whole family together for a movie night! #WayneManor #movienight #familytime #schedulingisanightmare

15 minutes ago

Take It Back Now Y’all - TimTheToaster

Note: And Tiny!Jason has made his appearance. Also, Tim, I am begging you to please take care of yourself—ah, Bruce has made his appearance. Interesting. Also, I gotta say this author is good.

Summary:

There was absolutely no way this sunshine was from Gotham in April.

Not possible.

Which meant, Tim was no longer in Gotham, in April.

(In which Tim finds himself in the past, and tries to do the right thing. It's more complicated than he'd like.)

Takes a Little Time, Takes a Lotta Twine (To Get Us Back Together) - TimTheToaster

Note: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, beginning of reconciliation, and brotherhood. A satisfying, cathartic moment during the Red Robin arc to soothe your heart.

Summary:

Tim was in Gotham.

Tim had pretty specifically been avoiding thinking about Dick as much as possible for the last few weeks.

For the last year, really. No need to open that can of carnivorous worms.

Dick had other plans.

Everybody’s Heard (Bird is the Word) - TimTheToaster

Red Robin Era ANGST, but like, deliciously well-written. Also, protective Dad Bruce is always epic. Light bashing of Green Arrow and BC, though. But considering the situation (in this fic), kind of warranted.

Summary:

5 times Batman heard other heroes talking about his wayward brother,

And 1 time they were talking about his son.

A Choice to Make - scorbusfics

Note: fresh and interesting premise! Cool world building, too.

Summary: They have to choose. Dick and Bruce have to choose one person each to save, and one to disappear through the door.

“Send one of us,” Dick says fiercely, not for the first time. His face is dark and angry and desperate, eyes flicking from brother to brother. “Send one of us instead. I won’t choose.”

“Neither will I,” Bruce says.

But Tim knows.

Secret Places - RenaRoo

It’s ANGST, but the author knows how to use it well. Also, Jason’s line at the end killed me. Damn.

Summary: Tim Drake goes missing. The search to find him begins.

[needsmoresleepwrites]

Gift for Daiyanerd: Miyuki Kazuya. Always cool and collected. Has a great side profile. Good at baseball. Well, no, great is the correct word. (sofa’21)

Moratorium

Read on Ao3

ONE

Miyuki Kazuya

Always cool and collected. Has a great side profile. Good at baseball. Well, no, great is the correct word. Even when he sometimes messes up some of the smaller plays. Reliable. Daring. Funny. Charming. Has probably had a dozen girlfriends, or maybe not. Nobody has been able to get any concrete answer on that one question, but he's definitely a lady's man, his fan club primarily consisting of girls and women that claim they would leave their current lives just to marry him if he so much as hinted interest. Or at least that's what many of the magazines, both sports and gossip ones say about him

Not to be too full of himself, but Kazuya thinks that much of what they say has some foundation. Yeah, people like Yoichi and Jun know better but he has to agree that his catching skills are unparalleled. He might also really like sending magazine covers with blown up images of his smiling (smirking) face to Yoichi just to get a scathing reply or an angry call. His only response is his lady killer (annoying) laugh

He knows he's always being watched by someone, but it completely slips his mind that anything could go wrong on that day

The headlines are brutal and he's gotten many messages and calls from his friends. He hasn't really answered because, well, he hasn't been able to. But he knows what they're saying. He's laying at the hospital with bandages covering most of his torso. He has a sense of deja vu, having been in a similar position when he'd been in high school, but this is much, much worse. Something happened and everyone is scrambling to find out what

Everyone except Rei, who has been detained. The tabloids are lapping this up like it's the sip of water they've finally been allowed after being stuck in a desert for months. Except that they're ruining the lives of the people Kazuya loves the most

He sees different news channels trying to get interviews from the few people that make up his friends. They want to know about Rei from high school. They've dug up her whole life's story and put it on full blast. They want to know about Kazuya, as if they haven't already told all there is to say, invented and created his whole career. They talk about how Rei pretty much scouted him from a very young age. The same women that claim they would do anything for Kazuya have turned razer sharp, claiming that "they knew it all along" and that Rei "had it coming"

They all twist the information for entertainment and Kazuya closes his eyes, disgusted at what they say about her.

There had been an accident. His car had been hit and he knows he needed surgery. Later they found out it was all a setup and he went from being one of the richest people and baseball players in Japan to having nothing. His career may as well be over. It will take too long for him to recover. Games won't wait.

Kazuya throws the remote in his hand and wants to tell them all its lies. He knows Rei would never do something like this. She's smart. It doesn't make sense. As much as Rei will follow a gut instinct, especially if it's about recruiting potential, it's always based on logic. There is no logic here.

His name flashes on multiple headlines and all he wants to scream is no, I didn't she say she stole my money!

The machines connected to his body have been beeping for a while now and finally, nurses and doctors run in. They try to get him to calm down but all he can do is repeat It wasn't her! It wasn't her! Rei would never! Tell them to stop!

Soon he feels drowsy and he realizes he's been sedated.

Before he closes his eyes he sees a picture of Rei next to the news anchor. Her hair is down, her eyes look haunted, but her posture is proud. She's not in her usual suit. Instead, she's wearing that dreaded green top, almost drowning her, making her pale skin paler. She doesn't look right. It's not the Rei he knows. The Rei he owes everything to.

He feels the tears burn his eyes.

----

TWO.

It takes a little over a year for things to "settle" down, but once the storm is over, everything is ruined.

Kazuya still manages to get his face blown up on magazine covers, but this time it's for a different reason. He's now considered a victim and he hates the images of him being wheeled out of the hospital. Of the tabloids somehow getting a shot of his bloodshot eyes, his pale skin, and his hunched shoulders. He wishes his attorney had allowed Kazuya to do something, but everything was too precarious, we have to be careful. Careful of what? He can no longer play baseball. He was already pushing the age of acceptability, only being allowed to continue contracts because he was so good, was still quick, was dedicated in mind, body, and soul to the game. But now he was injured, would be in rehab, and nobody knew if he'd still be able to move as great as before. Nobody would take that risk

Rei is finally released, but her life is ruined too. Hers is worse than Kazuya's will ever be. Not just because she's the supposed mastermind of the accident and subsequent disappearance of his capital, but because she's a woman. It's made him sick how she's been torn apart and left behind. She had already been forcefully (through great results) making her own space at the table. This was just the excuse to make her disappear. Nobody wanted a criminal as their associate. The label was tarnished and it would take time to rebuild their name. "Apologies" had been passed around, but nobody would take the risk of allowing her space again

Nobody thought to ask her side of the story, to reach out and help. She was alone. Nobody could legally take what she's rightfully earned, but they can pile fines upon fines. She is "free to go" but they have severely limited what she can do.

It only makes sense that she finally retires. Kazuya goes to see her with the Seidou team. He breaks when he finally sees what they've done to her, all in "his name", to "protect him". Rei is strong, logical, smart, but she can't help but allow herself to show a bit of emotion at that moment. She wipes away at Kazuya's face, "There's nothing left for me here and there's no use crying. The only way to go now is forward."

Chris recommends that Kazuya go to the same rehab facility he went to in America.

Kazuya doesn't want to leave. It feels like admitting defeat, like running away, like he's abandoning his friends.

Yoichi grits his teeth, tells Kazuya he wants to punch him for being so stupid, "But hitting an injured person isn't my style, even though it's YOU."

There is little progress on his health, both physical and mental, and then Yoichi, who has been singlehandedly taking care of him whenever he has a moment to spare, nearly begs him, "Kazuya, please. Go. Don't let this defeat you. I don't want to admit it but I miss seeing that stupidly smug look on your face. Remember what Rei said. You have to keep moving forward!"

He can't help but laugh one night when he can't sleep, Yoichi's words and his concerned face plaguing his mind. He can't believe he almost let this defeat him. He can't believe he was down enough to force his best friend to make such a face, to make him cry for his sake. He feels like he's let everyone down, especially Rei.

He calls Chris a few days later.

Before leaving, he logs into his Twitter account, which, like any other media source, he's been avoiding for the past year. Someone has obviously logged in and cleared his notifications and as his last stand, no first, because even now "they have to be careful", Kazuya quote RTs an article he hasn't even read, but he doesn't need to. He chooses it because it has one of those headlines. He presses send and logs out.

I NEVER said she stole my money.

----

THREE.

It's two years when he finally comes back to Japan. His rehab had ended months ago but there was a part of him that had been afraid to come back. He's sure Yoichi had sensed it, which is why he'd pretty much dragged him back.

He remembers the conversation they had. It had been really late in Japan, he's sure that Yoichi was on the verge of passing out, could hear every yawn he tried to hide, but he wouldn't let Kazuya hang up, "I'm not hanging up until you agree."

Kazuya sighs, "There's nothing for me to do out there anyway. Here, I've been helping at the hospital."

"But you don't even like that kind of stuff! I bet you're bored out of your mind," Yoichi countered, and Kazuya has to admit that he's not exactly wrong. He misses the excitement from the diamond, feeling the burn on his thighs as he squats behind the batter, signaling different plays to his catchers, the feel of the ball as it lands perfectly in his gloved palm, the roar of the crowd as they once more strikeout another enemy batter. But he can't have any of that. This year Kazuya turns 30 and he has become stiff. He can't move as dexterously as before.

He hears some shuffling on the other end, as if Yoichi is changing positions on his bed, "Look. Not many people know this but...this is actually my last year playing."

Kazuya freezes at that. He knows Yoichi is still keeping up with his own records, has won his team countless matches for his boldness, knows they would never want to let him go. He briefly fears that maybe an injury is involved but shakes his head. No, Yoichi would tell him if that's the case, so then, "Why?"

"That's why I called and I need you to come back," there's another pause, not long, "I'm getting married."

Kazuya blanks out for a moment and then stops what he's doing altogether (he turns off the stove, he'd been making breakfast but this is more important. Besides, he had almost been done), "Married? Did you kidnap some poor girl? I haven't even heard of you dating."

"KAZUYA," he hears Yoichi yell, "I didn't kidnap anyone! And that's because my PR team has been making sure to keep things tightly sealed, and I guess we also haven't been able to see each other much too." That last part is mumbled but Kazuya catches it anyway.

Kazuya hums, still disbelieving, but only slightly. He knows Yoichi wouldn't kid about something like this so if he says he's getting married, he's getting married, "Congratulations then. Not sure how someone found you husband material, but they do say there's a type for everyone. How'd you meet her?"

"You are such a dick," Yoichi hisses, "How are we still even friends?"

Kazuya sometimes wonders the same thing. Yoichi has been with him at his best and worst and has never given up on him. He laughs, "My great personality?"

Yoichi snorts right before laughing, "Yeah right. Anyway, so I met this guy-"

"A husband?" Kazuya cuts him off, genuinely curious, but also can't help but tease, "You hid it so well with all those magazines. I'm sure nobody suspected. No wonder your team is doing such a great job at hiding this."

Yoichi yells into the phone, "Let me finish asshole! No! It's not a guy, her name is Wakana! And she's the childhood friend of this guy I met!"

Kazuya makes a tsk noise, "Yoichi, did you steal her from this guy? Are you a homewrecker?"

Instead of getting mad, Yoichi snorts, "As if. Can you believe Wakana was actually in love with Sawamoron for years and he didn't realize."

Kazuya adds, "So you seduced her?" before Yoichi can continue with the story.

"No? I mean, I'm not sure," but they both know that Yoichi probably couldn't seduce anyone even if he tried. Charmed, yes, but outright seduce? And a girl he liked? Very unlikely, "But she'd been tired of waiting and so I met her after she'd confessed and he rejected her."

"Hmm," Kazuya interrupts again, "So you took advantage when she was down. That makes more sense. She was probably so down about being rejected she would have said yes to anyone. Sadly that someone was you."

Yoichi is flabbergasted, "Take advantage?! MIYUKI, that's not- I'd never - just let me finish!"

Kazuya laughs, "Ok, ok. So how did you meet her? I won't interrupt again."

Just like that, Yoichi calms down and Kazuya notes the happiness in his voice as he laughs, not at Kazuya, but at something, the memory perhaps, and Kazuya is slightly jealous. He's not sure at what or who.

"So this kid, Sawamura, we were going to meet up at the park. He had something to tell me, but then I see him running after this girl, yelling about money or something. So I cut her off-"

Kazuya can't help but laugh, "Y-Yoichi, did you, did you attack the poor girl?"

"Didn't you say you weren't going to interrupt?!" Yoichi screeches, but he starts laughing a bit too, "And no, I didn't attack her but, well..."

There's a groan on the other end and Kazuya can imagine his best friend blushing to the tips of his ears, "I pulled her by the arm and she was surprised, but then she did something and next thing I know I'm on the ground, looking up at her and Sawamura is laughing like he's seen the most hilarious thing ever!"

He wonders if that kid was laughing as hard as he is now. He feels the tears tickling his eyes, his cheeks hurt, and he feels the force of his laugh pulling on his stomach, "I already like the girl. What happened next?"

Yoichi lets him laugh but his voice is annoyed, not at him he notes, but at what happens next, "So Sawamoron comes up finally and he knows the girl and I'm confused and just got thrown to the ground by a girl that doesn't even reach my chin, and I ask him why he was yelling about a thief, because that's what he was doing."

More shifting on Yoichi's end, "And you know what he said to me?"

"What?"

"He goes "I never said she stole my money!" so I knock him over the head because yeah, he's right, he was YELLING IT. Everyone in the goddamn park heard it! Made him buy me dinner and everything."

Kazuya feels a lump in his throat but pushes it aside, he turns the stove on again to finish preparing his breakfast, "I guess for Wakana I can go back. When's the wedding? And will I be your best man?"

----

FOUR.

Kazuya hasn't even been home a month when Yoichi walks into his apartment with their old Seidou team. Everyone seems to be there, even the first years like Ryo's little brother and Furuya. There really isn't anything Kazuya can do but move aside so that everyone can come inside. At the end of the group, right after the first years enter, he spots someone he doesn't know. A kid with unruly brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin who looks slightly nervous. His posture is too stiff but he's also looking around curiously.

Yoichi notices Kazuya looking at him and comes over for introductions. He pulls the kid into a side hug, "Kazuya, this is Sawamura, Wakana's friend."

Kazuya looks him over. He's heard a few things about him from Yoichi, "So this is Sawamoron?" he teases. He can't help the lift of his lips as the kid splutters in indignation.

A high pitched, "Kuramochi-senpai! You can't call me that anymore, we're practically family now!"

Yoichi howls, slapping the kid on the back, "You're always going to be a moron Sawamura, hyahaha!"

Sawamura grits his teeth for a second before standing up straight, stretching out his hand towards Kazuya, "Good afternoon, It's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Sawamura Eijun! Thank you for inviting me!!"

Kazuya looks at the outstretched hand for a moment before he doubles over laughing. Sawamura let's out another unidentified sound before yelling, "That's so rude Miyuki Kazuya!!" but he hasn't dropped his arm.

Kazuya takes a breath, isn't surprised he knows his name (briefly wonders if he knows who he is), right before taking that tanned hand into his own. Sawamura's hold is firm, if a bit sweaty, nerves probably, "Well, as you so clearly let my neighbors know, my name is Miyuki Kazuya." He pauses, "And I didn't invite you."

Sawamura pales slightly, looks over to Yoichi who just makes a rude noise, "Really Kazuya? You have to be a dick right off the bat?"

Kazuya only smiles brightly, finally letting go of the kid's hand, looks around his house, and says, "Actually, I didn't invite any of you over. Why are you all here?"

The others have already settled into his kitchen and, he peers through the doorway, there are bottles of coke and beer and the smell of oily pizza in the air. Jun has already made himself at home on his couch, a paper plate with a pizza on it. He's halfway into that slice and Kazuya doesn't know why Jun didn't just take an extra slice or two with him before settling down. Ryo and Haruichi are putting things in his fridge. He realizes now how empty his fridge must have been. He had been meaning to go grocery shopping but he supposes he hadn't had the energy to go. Kanemaru is clearing up some of the boxes he had yet to unbox, reading the labels Chris had helped him write, and arranging them accordingly.

He knows that many of these guys are still part of the leagues, wonders how they managed to take a moment to raid his home (notices a few faces are missing, like Yuki but he would have been REALLY surprised if they'd managed to get him to come over). He remembers how they'd made it a routine to visit him when they were at Seidou, knowing he could get lost in strategizing and numbers quickly. He feels a penetrating gaze and turns to see the new kid watching him intently. Kazuya can't help the grin that grows on his face and it's finally starting to feel like home.

He motions the two in, "Well, you may as well come in. Everyone is already inside. Feel free to raid my fridge and make a mess in my new kitchen."

Yoichi laughs, pulling Sawamura inside with him. The kid still looks slightly off-balance, but he sits next to the first years like he belongs and he wonders why this picture looks so right.

Yoichi dives in for the last slice of pepperoni pizza just as Sawamura is about to reach for it and then loudly exclaims, "Hey Kazuya, wanna hear something funny?"

Kazuya has already grabbed his own plate and he wonders how he missed all of these pizza boxes when they first came inside. He grabs one with sausage and mushroom, "Hm?"

"So while we were getting the pizza, we sent Sawamura to go get the drinks, right?"

Sawamura, who had just taken a drink from his can of soda, instantly spits it out and Kazuya is both intrigued and disgusted as he sees the drink mixed with spit cover his table, "Kuramochi-senpai, don't!"

He sees Kanemaru chuckling and Jun roars from the living room. Apparently, there were many witnesses to this apparently funny story. Haruichi pats Sawamura's back softly while the kid's face glows red. Kazuya is momentarily worried he might faint but then curiosity wins out, "Oh?"

Yoichi and he share a look, "Get this, we all gave him our share, right? So he goes in and comes back all mad, saying we didn't give him the right amount, but then, but then," It seems the rest of it is too funny for Yoichi to continue because he starts laughing and he notices Sawamura cover his face. He mumbles something but Kazuya doesn't catch it.

Ryo helps him out. He's also amused, a smirk on his face, "The girl stole his change."

Sawamura uncovers his face and yells, "I never said she stole my money!"

There's a moment of silence before...

Jun. He'd come back into the kitchen to get more pizza, "Who else could it have been? Had to be the girl at the counter, or did you just give up your money?"

Kuramochi, "Easy prey, how you're even a teacher is beyond me."

Kanemaru, "Wait. So it wasn't the cashier?"

Even Kazuya can't help but ask, laughter tickling his words, "Emphasis on "she"?"

Sawamura seems to realize his error and covers his face again. He's mumbling again but instead of being annoyed by the bad habit, Kazuya thinks it's almost cute.

"Haruichi?" Ryo questions and Sawamura uncovers his face to yell, "Onii-san! That's not fair! Haruichi you can't tell, you promised!"

Haruichi is looking back and forth between them, "Well..."

Then Furuya explains all, "He was flirting with the delivery guy."

It somehow gets even louder inside his house and Kazuya can't believe he thought of not returning. It's true that his baseball career is over, but this is where his family is at. This is where his life is truly at. He laughs until the tears in his eyes fall.

They spend hours getting him up to speed on gossip.

----

FIVE.

Even though he's only known Sawamura for a few days, maybe weeks, he's the one that keeps Kazuya company the most. And there's a big reason for that named Kuramochi Yoichi. Even though, or perhaps because, it's nearing the end of his contract, Yoichi gets busier. There are some rumors as to why he's finally leaving baseball, but just like he'd told Kazuya, everything is still under wraps. There are no incriminating photos and no face to put to those rumors jealous girls spread online. Kazuya wonders how things will turn out once Yoichi fesses up but until then, Sawamura becomes his shadow

One, he's not bound to such a strenuous schedule (Yoichi told him Sawamura is the grade school teacher at one of the local schools not far from Kazuya's new place. His new house is conveniently placed so close because it will soon be Kazuya's new workplace and they just happen to be on break now), and second...well, Kazuya's not sure. Yoichi didn't want to tell him. Not exactly

He remembers the last time he actually met up with his best friend.

Yoichi had invited him over for dinner and Sawamura had come up somehow (Kazuya comes to realize that Sawamura comes up in their lives very often). Yoichi had been contemplative. They'd just finished watching a movie and were just sitting there in the dark, the credits rolling.

"You know. If Sawamura had actually been interested in Wakana...I don't think I'd have ever had a chance with her. There's just something about him...he's so..." Yoichi makes vague hand movements, "you know?"

Kazuya laughs and wonders if this is what best men have to deal with with their to-be grooms. Jitters, he's heard them called, but he was sure this feeling was supposed to happen days before the wedding, not so far ahead when there wasn't even a date finalized, "Already second-guessing the married life?"

Yoichi doesn't even take the bait. He just sighs and leans back on the couch, "No, I'm serious. There's just something about Sawamura, he's so honest and hardworking. I can see why Wakana liked him."

"Careful, or I might start to think you actually want to marry Sawamura instead."

Yoichi kicks him halfheartedly, "Dumbass."

Their feet are still touching and Yoichi nudges him, "He's a good kid you know."

Kazuya leans out to grab his drink from the low table, takes a sip, "He does seem like it. Although he's a bit..." He tries to find the right word. Dense? Airheaded? No..."innocent?"

Yoichi laughs, "Yes! The stories I could tell you."

It gets quiet and Kazuya enjoys it. It's been years since the two of them have done something like this.

Yoichi breaks the silence again, "You know...Rei actually tried scouting him."

Kazuya takes another swig of his drink, deep, and tries to wash away the feelings of guilt. He hasn't spoken to Rei since the incident. Hasn't really asked about her although he knows she's ok, thanks to Chris

But he's curious now. If Rei had been interested in him then he was undoubtedly good talent, "What happened?"

Yoichi scoffs, "The idiot turned her down! Said he didn't need any fancy schools to play baseball."

Kazuya can't help the snort he lets out into his drink. He hasn't known Sawamura long but he can somehow imagine the face he'd make, how loud he would yell that statement with conviction, "Too bad." He's sure Sawamura could have been someone if he'd come to Seidou and he somehow feels cheated of something

"What position?"

"Pitcher, a southpaw, nasty throw," Yoichi grips his cup tightly. He looks over at him, "He's not a professional but he does still play."

It's a subtle nudge that Kazuya ignores.

Which is probably why he finds Sawamura so often on his doorstep.

Today he's managed to wrangle Kazuya out of his house, but only because it's work-related. The summer heat isn't terrible today so the two decide to walk and even though it's not that far, Kazuya finds himself lightly perspiring. Perhaps he's let himself go more than he thought, and he begins planning a timetable to get his fitness in a better state. Meanwhile, Sawamura is all smiles

"Hurry up Miyuki Kazuya!" He's already at the side door, opening it with his staff key, and Kazuya wonders if they should even be here. There are hardly any cars parked outside and the school is obviously void of children. Classes don't start until next week

"You don't have to call me by my full name," Kazuya tells him as he enters the building. Sawamura slides past him after closing the door, making sure it locks properly, "You can call me Miyuki-senpai."

"What?!" Sawamura's voice echoes in the hallway, "Why should I call you that?!"

"Because you're younger," he pats Sawamura's head and grins, "And smaller."

He slaps his hand away, a blush on his face, "I'm not small! And you're not even that much taller!!"

He stands closer to Kazuya and points at the few centimeters difference between them. Kazuya pushes him back, "Miyuki-senpai."

Sawamura just rolls his eyes and continues walking, "You really do have a terrible personality Miyuki Kazuya!"

Kazuya just laughs, "Thanks!"

"Not a compliment!" Sawamura yells and then points to the rooms in the hall they're in, "I'm usually here with the kids. Since the school isn't that big you'll probably get kids as young as eight and as old as thirteen in your class too, since you're the only gym teacher until Kuramochi-senpai gets married."

Kazuya nods, "Ok, Sawamura...sensei."

Kazuya notes how easy it is to rile up Sawamura. How his face will quickly turn red and his lips will form pouts or grimaces, his body reacting so honestly so quickly. Now he brings up his hands to cover his ears as he yells, "Don't call me that!!"

"Then stop calling me by my full name, it's weird."

"MIYUKI KA-"

Kazuya somehow manages to raise his voice enough to speak over Sawamura, "So Sawamura-sensei, where do the kids go out to play? Sensei?"

Sawamura looks like he's about to burst and goes off yelling. Miyuki follows him, laughing, their voices echoing in tandem

They end up outside behind the school somewhere. Even though it's small, Kazuya is impressed by how well maintained it is. There is a small playground to the side, which has been recently repainted, signs marking the walls and tape clearly discouraging anyone from touching. The mats at the bottom look worn but not in bad shape. Then there is a track that circles what looks like enough field to be a neighborhood. Most of it is empty and Sawamura's talking about how sometimes the kids will go out there and play soccer or volleyball or really whatever sports they need that requires a lot of space. The only place that looks like it truly has a defined purpose is the baseball field.

He feels excited and scared at the same time, wants to run to home plate, to feel the dirt path against his feet, crouch, and take in the view. But he also thinks this is a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have accepted the job. He knows why they want him, why they're willing to wait a year for Yoichi to come and teach. He's not sure if he can take the pressure

"Miyuki-senpai," he turns to Sawamura, who is pouting.

He's not sure why he feels himself calm down, perhaps it's because he'll take any distraction, even if it's loud Sawamura, or maybe it's because Sawamura looks ridiculous with his cheeks puffed out and his eyebrows scrunched up between his eyes. Kazuya smiles. It hurts a bit to do so, "Is this all just for the little gremlins? Lucky them, I didn't have something so big at my disposal when I was at school."

Sawamura suddenly inflates as he grins, "Yeah me neither! I'm from the countryside from a school even smaller than this! Wakana and I had to go to the other side of town with our friends if we wanted to play baseball. That's sort of what it's like here too. We share with some of the other schools and really anyone is welcome to come here as long as the kids aren't out playing."

"Wakana, huh," Kazuya notes. He hasn't actually met the bride-to-be yet, "Is she in the habit of taking people's money?"

Sawamura looks confused and perhaps a bit upset, "What?"

Kazuya only smirks, "I heard how Yoichi met her."

Understanding fills his eyes and he groans, "I keep telling Kuramochi-senpai not to tell that story! It's all lies! Lies! Come on, let's go to the gym, your to-be base."

They head back inside and Kazuya feels the smile that spreads on his face is lighter, amused. It's relaxing being with Sawamura, "So what, she wasn't stealing your money?"

"No!" Sawamura defends, "I never said she stole my money! It was all a misunderstanding!!"

"So what? She was just borrowing it?" Kazuya pushes and can't help but laugh as Sawamura goes red.

"I-It, my, NO! She just grabbed my wallet!! But she wasn't stealing it!"

----

SIX.

Kazuya hasn't been teaching for long when it's time to prepare for Sports Day and he forgets how tiring it can be. Sawamura is ecstatic the whole week leading up to the moment all the kids are let loose to run and play, and he's not sure how the flow of energy works, who feeds off who, but everyone seems to be ready to burst with enthusiasm by then. Kazuya feels like he's the only one who is burnt out. He's not usually used to so much happening, at least not like this

The school asks him to give an encouraging speech before the event begins, which Sawamura jealously admits had been his job the last two years, but he grins all the same. He encourages him to do his best, just like he does to the children and Kazuya isn't sure if he should be offended or glad when he feels the flat of Sawamura's palm on his back.

By then, Yoichi has finally wrapped things up with his team. He still has a few more interviews scheduled, but he's essentially removed himself (as much as he can) from the public eye. He's announced he's going to get married and has been asked many times about his to-be wife, but just like Kazuya, everyone is kept in the dark. On the few nights Yoichi manages to call him, to check up on him, Kazuya teases that maybe this is the most elaborate plan he's ever seen, that maybe this Wakana girl doesn't even exist

Yoichi just laughs, "What? Is The Great Miyuki Kazuya actually curious?"

Kazuya scoffs, "Of course not, and don't call me that. I can't get Sawamura to stop, I don't want you doing the same. It's so weird."

They talk until they're both ready to pass out but Yoichi tells him he'll be there and that he'll bring Wakana too. There's something strange with the way he says this but it's late, they've both been up for too long, and Kazuya doesn't remember the unease the next day

He doesn't remember until Sports Day, right before it happens.

It's usually a big event with parents and friends and the neighborhood coming by to see all their children perform at their best. This school is slightly different because of its size. It isn't just their kids (as Sawamura likes to say and Kazuya, reluctantly, has started to call his students), but a few students from two or three of the neighboring smaller schools. He's never seen the field so packed with kids. There are also a lot of cameras and flashing and suddenly Kazuya feels uncomfortably warm. This year it's not only locals that are here. He can see various news channels documenting the event and there are probably other labels walking around, trying to figure out what the next scoop will be. Or perhaps they've already been hinting at it but Kazuya has been avoiding all the gossip. He briefly wonders if they're here for him and while this might be slightly true, he's sure they're more likely to be here to catch a glimpse of Yoichi and Wakana

He decides to stick with Sawamura for most of the day.

Sawamura seems to be oblivious to all the attention, focusing on the kids, high-fiving everyone who is going to race, yelling encouragements as they pass him by, and yelling out happily as the kids make the baskets and reach the finish lines. Kazuya tries to show his support as well and Sawamura drags him from one event to the next. The parents love him as much as the children do. He briefly wonders if Sawamura will have any voice left for the next day

It's around the time the kids finally get their break for lunch (and that Sawamura pulls him over to an empty patch of grass so that they can finally rest as well, how Kazuya was able to crouch for hours on end before is almost a mystery to him now, he really HAS let himself go) that he starts to hear them

"I didn't say she stole MY money. Did you really not know?" "Is she REALLY here? "The NERVE of her." "We should tell the principal to kick her out. Where is she?"

Everything starts to go quiet as Kazuya looks around. There are too many people around, but he manages to find her by the fence behind the diamond. She's looking right at him and Kazuya feels himself stop breathing for a moment. He isn't sure what he was expecting but she looks exactly like she did three years ago, except somehow better. Her hair is up in her typical bun, she's wearing a pink button-up with her trademark pencil skirt. There's a small coat hanging off her arm, which is the only sign he has that she plans to stay for the whole of the day's events.

He gets up, ignores Sawamura's confused, "Miyuki-senpai?" and goes to meet her.

He remembers how Yoichi had sounded over the phone the other day and realizes that when he said her, he hadn't meant Wakana, he had meant Rei. She's smiling at him and once they're close enough, she says, "Miyuki Kazuya, it's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Rei," he all but whispers and he notices people are looking, the cameras are pointing in their direction and he smiles. He's so happy and relieved to see her. He wonders why he hadn't tried contacting her before, where the guilt and fear have gone. He thanks Yoichi, will thank him later as well, for always doing things like this for him, I'm the worst friend, aren't I? He can already see Yoichi's annoyed face as he threatens to punch him if he says anything so stupid again. He laughs, "It's been way too long. I'm sorry."

He finally has the chance to really apologize for everything, to offer his support, to ask how she's been doing, and he marvels at how Seidou is truly a family. His old teammates haven't just been trying to get him to move forward, they have also been helping Rei regain a semblance of her old life.

When they part, it turns into a game. They both know how things will go so they are bold, they grin, and take each other's hands in a firm shake.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you on the field in the future." It's not a question.

"Of course." It's a promise.

At the end of the day, Sawamura and he are the last to leave the school since Sawamura offered to stay and clean up (and with him Kazuya). The sun is already on the verge of setting and Kazuya can't wait to take a bath and then crawl into bed. He doesn't want to wake up until a week from now.

As they're walking home (or really walking to his house because even now, he's never really asked where Sawamura lives, he imagines not far), Kazuya notices how quiet Sawamura is. He bumps his side with his shoulder, "Lost your voice with all that yelling?"

Sawamura looks over at him and shakes his head. Kazuya is momentarily mesmerized by this side of Sawamura. Quiet, almost shy. He's not pouting or angry, his features calm, slightly sharp on his handsome face. The remaining rays of the sun make his eyes look slightly gold and Kazuya wonders why he's suddenly noticing these things, "What's wrong then?"

The temperature had dropped enough that they were now comfortably wearing jerseys. Sawamura mumbles into the collar of his jersey and Kazuya is annoyed, but only slightly. It's that bad habit of Sawamura's and he wonders if he could tease those mumbled words out of him, is about to do that when Sawamura stops walking, closes his eyes, and yells out, "Do you like Miss Rei?!"

Kazuya is left speechless. At least that answers his other teasing question. Sawamura is as loud as always, "What?"

Sawamura opens his eyes, he's blushing and he can't seem to look him in the eye, "Well, there were those rumors...and then today...I mean, she's really pretty and just..." He goes quiet.

There's a lot here he wants to clear up, but he figures he should start with Sawamura's question, "No. At least, not really."

There's a question in those golden-brown eyes and Kazuya continues to explain, "I'm sure everyone on the baseball team liked her at one point. We were all teenagers and she's a really attractive woman, but that's it. Rei...she scouted me, believed that I could go far, pushed me, pretty much built my whole career. She's not really like my mom, not really an older sister...but yeah, like family."

They're both surprised by how honest he's been, which leads him to his own question, "Rumors? So you knew who I was. Is that why you called me by my full name?"

Sawamura looks embarrassed, "Yeah. I, I was curious about Seidou. I bet Kuramochi-senpai already told you about Rei and her coming to scout me?"

Kazuya nods.

They start walking again, "Well, I started seeing your name come up a lot. I always had trouble with my own catchers, I wasn't very good, sometimes my throws would go wild. I guess. I mean, they felt right, but Wakana, she was my main catcher, it was hard for her to catch them. Anyway, I started following your career. And just, well, then that happened and the rumors..."

They're quiet for a moment. Kazuya thinking back to how Yoichi had called Sawamura's pitch a nasty throw, the way Rei had pointed out Sawamura's staring while they talked and how Kazuya should catch for him, "When I saw him pitch, I knew you two would make a great battery. I knew you would be what could push him to greater heights, and that he would influence you too. All of Seidou. He has the heart of an Ace."

He's curious.

"Do you regret it?"

It's been a few minutes but Sawamura follows his question, turns to him, conviction in his burning eyes, "Never!"

----

SEVEN.

Kazuya finally gets to meet Wakana on his birthday. Yoichi tells him they're going out to celebrate at a fancy restaurant and he's not allowed to say no. Since he is the best man at their future wedding, he supposes it would be rude to not meet the bride-to-be so he pulls out one of his old suits, is relieved it still fits, and decides that's enough effort needed on his part. He also decides to forgo the tie and leaves the first two buttons undone. It's classy.

He's not surprised to see Sawamura also at the restaurant, and he's also not surprised to see him sporting a loud outfit. He's also wearing a suit but his shirt is a bright blue with baseball patterns, he's pulled up the suit jacket sleeves to his elbows (which, might he add, does not match his pants, but it somehow works), and he's actually wearing a tie. There's a girl trying to tame his hair but she soon gives up when Sawamura spots him and calls out, "Miyuki Kazu-mmyaa."

"Eijun!" the girl chides him, "We told you to be quiet!"

She's covering his mouth and let's go once he settles down. He rubs his hand through the back of his hair, ruining whatever work the girl must have done, "Sorry."

The girl shakes her head and turns to him, "So you're the famous Miyuki Kazuya, in the flesh."

Kazuya smiles, "And you must be the infamous money stealing Wakana."

They shake hands and Wakana laughs, "The one and only."

Yoichi comes up behind him, "Good, you're here. I thought I was going to have to send someone to drag you out of bed."

They're escorted to the back where they can dine in private. Yoichi walks in the back with him and Kazuya watches the way Sawamura's body faces Wakana even when they're walking. The way she pushes and holds his arm, laughs at what he says. The way that Sawamura lets her choose where she wants to sit and then makes space so that the table decorations aren't in her way. He sits across from her.

Yoichi whispers at him, "See what I mean?"

Kazuya doesn't need to see them interact to know why Wakana once liked Sawamura, but it definitely solidifies their closeness.

Wakana is very pretty. She has short hair that is slightly tinged with red, natural, she mentions when she sees him looking at her, "I get asked a lot." Apparently, it's a color she inherited from her great grandmother

She's as small as Yoichi claimed her to be, which makes her look tiny with her current company. She's wearing a simple and modest blue dress that matches perfectly with the ties Sawamura and Yoichi are wearing. She's just as honest as Sawamura is, and Kazuya wonders if all the people in his life are like that. It's refreshing. He instantly likes her and knows that Yoichi will be happy. It makes him happy too.

They're waiting on their food when Sawamura tells Yoichi that "Miyuki Kazuya" called Wakana a thief. Yoichi puts down his glass of wine, sending his best friend a glare, "I should have known you wouldn't behave!"

Sawamura is quick to respond, "It's all your fault Kuramochi-senpai! You keep telling that stupid story!!"

"The only thing stupid about that story is YOU Bakamura!!"

They look like children snapping at each other across the table and Wakana is just laughing. She turns to Kazuya, "Did he tell you what actually happened?"

Kazuya nods, "Sort of. Something about borrowing a wallet."

Wakana smiles, "Something like that, yes."

"See! I told you I never said she stole my money!!" Sawamura gets up suddenly but nobody notices the waiter coming with trays until the sound of plates falling to the ground and shattering are heard. But the worst part is probably the cake that Sawamura tries to save. Part of it lands on his hands, some of it on the table, but a big portion of it (thanks to Sawamura's interference), is now all over Wakana's dress. Everyone holds their breath, the waiter looks horrified.

Kazuya knows he shouldn't but he snickers and that seems to bring everything back to life. Wakana laughs and tells the waiter it's ok, she pats his hand reassuringly, "But can we get another cake? We'll pay for both of course."

The man is so relieved, he smiles and nods, and says he'll be right back to clean up, that he can also ask someone to help her out. Sawamura looks constipated and ridiculous standing there with chunks of cake in his hands.

"This is so coming out of your wallet Sawamoron!!" Yoichi cries out as he grabs chunks of cake from Wakana's lap and throws it on the table, "And YOU, I can't believe you did that!"

Kazuya only smirks, looks over at Wakana, and says, "Welcome to the family."

It seems like Wakana isn't just depleting Sawamura's accounts, but also stealing hearts.

----

OMAKE (months later)

It's the wedding night when Sawamura decides to crash at Kazuya's house. They're both exhausted and since they're both going to the same place the next morning, Kazuya doesn't make a fuss. When they make it home, they fight about who will take a shower first and Kazuya wins because, ultimately, this is his house so of course he has dibs. Sawamura pouts as he heads to the living room, ok, ok, just go you evil tanuki bastard.

When Kazuya comes out in a white t-shirt and boxers, he finds Sawamura already passed out on the couch, his arm and leg fallen off the side. He notices that he at least had the sense to take off his suit jacket and shirt. He's only wearing his undershirt and his pants have risen up his shins. Everything else is thrown against the back of the couch and his keys, cellphone, camera, and wallet, are all on the table. He's snoring lightly, his breath coming out more like little sighs, and there's a bit of drool where gravity has decided to do its job.

He's about to wake up Sawamura when he remembers something Wakana told him the first time they met. Right before they left the restaurant, she had pulled him aside, telling the other two NOT to come closer, Next time you get the chance, look inside his wallet. I promise it'll be worth it, and don't worry, he won't mind. He yells a lot but that's all there is.

The wallet is right there and Kazuya wishes it had landed the other way. At least like that, it wouldn't feel like he was snooping. No, he wouldn't. He doesn't really understand why Wakana wants him to look inside, but it's not really any of his business. He shakes his head and walks towards the couch. Before he can even reach forward, Sawamura shifts and mumbles a sleepy, "Kazuya."

Kazuya freezes at the stupid smile on Sawamura's face. He feels his face heat up and he's not sure why. He briefly glances at the wallet again, then moves to shake Sawamura's shoulders.

It takes a moment, a testament to how tired Sawamura is, before his brown eyes open and he sleepily mumbles, "Miyuki Kazuya?"

Kazuya hesitates for a moment. He doesn't have extra bedding and he knows sleeping on the couch is uncomfortable. They were going to share the bed, just like he always does whenever Yoichi visits, but suddenly he wonders if maybe this isn't a good idea. He tells Sawamura it's his turn to shower and nearly drags him to the bathroom. He stands outside just to make sure he doesn't pass out inside and somehow Sawamura looks even more drowsy than before. His skin is red from the heat of the water and they head to the bedroom.

Sawamura is out before his head hits the pillow. Kazuya arranges him on the bed properly and covers him with the blanket.

He finds it hard to sleep, the sound of his name coming from Sawamura's sleepy lips echoing in his head.

---

A/N:

I scoured Reddit for some inspiration and found this interesting prompt: "I never said she stole my money has 7 different meanings based on which word is emphasized." I sort of followed the prompt? LOL

things to note: 1. I just googled "prisoner clothes in japan" and green outfits came up, hence why Rei is dressed in a "green top" 2. I don't actually know how legal proceedings go in japan, if it would take longer or less (but this is fanfic so let's not question it) 3. Again, I don't know how long rehabs take but I'm not aiming for accuracy 4. If it wasn't obvious, Sawamura wasn't in the original Seidou team in this fic (lol) 5. Sports day apparently apparently happens around October (and again, Idk much about it)

I don't think I've ever written anything "complete" for this fandom but I hope you all enjoyed, especially you daiyanerd ^^

p.s. This got out of hand omg it's so long and hardly anything happens i hope you guys don't mind Orz Also, I kind of want to write more for this, maybe Sawamura's side of some of the events, maybe just a continuation, idk....

[crystalangelluna]

A New Chance Chapter 3

Ao3  Part 1  Part 2

I tried writing Damian as best as I could since I really don't know even know Damian besides the basics. My knowledge on DCU is limited. I wrote this really late so if you spot (hehe:) any errors please let me know. Enjoy

Earlier that day…

                                                           With Damian…

This by far had to be Damian’s worst day ever. Kent came over and basically dragged him to the arcade, where he was surrounded by ugh.. People . Of course he also found the games useless, like why even bother playing them unless you want to be brainless zombies (i don’t actually believe this so i am trying my best to write Damian as best as possible).

Then when he returned back to the Manor, his imbecile brothers kept pestering him and couldn’t even leave him alone for just one minute. But the worst thing happened during patrol, No he didn't die again, instead he found himself at this particular moment…

Damian separated from the rest of the bat clan and headed towards crime alley in case a crime arose again in that area. He could practically feel that someone was following him for the past 10 minutes. He abruptly stopped and as quick as he could aimed his favorite katana towards his stalker. This of course caught his talker off guard.  He was about to stab them when suddenly…

“CATACLYSM”

A black orb appeared in her hand and she touched the tip of the weapon.

Out of nowhere the katana instantly disintegrated and fell to the floor.  

He had 3 words repeating in his mind…

HOW DARE SHE

He finally noticed a girl dressed in a catsuit who could easily pass as Selina’s ward. She has a long braid that seems to be moving on it’s own like a TAIL?!?!  Cat ears that also seem to be too real to be fake, long black hair as midnight, her eyes seem to cat like they are gre- wait that is not right her eyes seem to have changed into bluebell eyes for 1 second.

His stalker now turned enemy seemed to have recovered from everything that happened. She quickly made a run for it but before running away she actually apologized, the nerve that she had.

He quickly began running after what he assumed was a meta-human. He needed answers and he was going to get them!!

“COME BACK HERE” She managed to escape him for a few minutes and then she appeared to be running away behind him. He cornered her in an alleyway he was about to begin yelling at her but all of a sudden she disappeared in thin air.

He began letting out curse words for letting her get away

“Batman, a metahuman, has been spotted near by a crime ally.”

It was dead silent on the other side of the comm. Realization hit him in the face..

HE

TURNED

OFF

HIS

COMM..

The reason was simple:

He didn't want to hear his annoying brothers since they kept bothering him earlier.

Great just great.

He checked the time

Guess what else happened…

Patrol ended an HOUR AGO!!!

He didn’t know why he had such bad luck…

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Back at the apartment where Mari was staying…

Plagg could barely keep his laughter from escaping…

The rest of the Kwami’s looked unamused…

Mari on the other hand was confused…

“Tikki why is Plagg ac-” she was cut off by Tikki groaning

“He cursed someone with bad luck again”

She got her answer , Or so she thinks...

(Time Skip)

Mari woke up late again due to staying up too late.

The answer is simple: she felt bad for destroying Robin’s Damian’s Katana so she made him a new and one of a kind katana. With the help of the kwami’s she finished the apology gift around 5 in the morning.  

It is indestructible and can cut through things easily, it also has some of Tikki’s good luck/ it comes along with a bracelet that lets him teleport wherever in the world the katana may be( courtesy of Kaalki). It had the yin-and yang symbol. And other cool features etc...etc…

The katana

She went to explore Gotham, to find out the places where it really needed to be healed. She came across a beautiful hidden garden and figured it would be the best place where she can transfer her magic to heal since ladybugs tend to like the outdoors.

She put her hands on the grass and focused her energy towards the gloomy parts of Gotham. Knowing that if she uses too much energy she could be hurt she let go of the connection of her magic on Gotham. The sun shined brightly above her and the skies cleared. Every gothamite felt that Gotham felt a little less Gothamy (did I make a new word) they didn’t know why but they were happy.

Across town a certain red haired female rogue felt her plants show extreme measures of happiness, and new life was created.

She was on her way back to the apartment when a building was set on fire. Knowing she doesn’t want to wait for the Batfam Wayne’s, she takes action. She ducks into any alley and transforms into Ladybug. Her outfit is completely different.

The Outfit. (pretend she has the yoyo, the ladybug mask on and without the bow and arrows.)

Instead of her normal spandex suit she has a warrior's type outfit with a ladybug hood & cape.

She uses the lucky charm and gets an oxygen mask. She puts it on and goes inside to take everyone to safety. The batfam arrived when ladybug finally got the last of the citizens outside. The building collapsed and every one backed away but one. LB immediately threw the oxygen mask into the air and called out

“Miraculous Ladybug”

While everyone distracted she was leaving the scene, suddenly someone grabbed her wrist and detained her from escaping…

Low and behold it is Robin Damian…

Recognition spread across his face…

He knows, he knows, he knows, he knows, he knows, he knows.

How did he find out, I have to leave…

She ran away again and left a certain robin processing stuff.

                                                                       ……………………….

Damian recognised those eyes, they belong to his stalker who ended up destroying his weapon.  Instead of chasing after her again he decided it was best to tell his family about what happened so that the next time they run into each other that she won’t run away again.

                                                                        ………………………….

Mari decided that it was best if she met the batfam officially and apologized. After all she ran away from Robin Damian 2 times already. She can tell he is pretty mad about it so it would for the best to come clean.

Night came faster than she would like to admit, but she had a mission to complete.

She transformed into Ladynoir,  grabbed the katana and headed off to Wayne Tower.

Instead of going after them, she is letting them come to her.

(By now you already know who is going to find her first right…)

Robin landed behind her knowing she could be a dangerous threat.

“Tt I honestly expected you to run away like the last few times STALKER .”

Aww great, first impressions are always the WORST. Am i right?

Instead of making a snarky comment she turned around and looked directly at Robin Damian and smiled

“Not This Time.” Not this time.

“My name is Ladynoir and I came here to formally apologize to you about the other night. It was just that you caught me off guard and my instincts kicked in and I destroyed your Katana. And to meet the rest of your team.”

She pulled out something from behind her and gave it to him (guess what it is)

“I knew an apology wasn’t enough and I felt really bad about it so I got this for you.”

Not knowing if it was a trap he reluctantly grabbed it. It was a brand new KATANA!!!”

Inspecting it closely he could tell it was a really unique one attached to it was a bracelet.

“Tt it’s adequate.” Deep down he knew it was a lie.

He’s having some strange emotions that he has never experienced before he can’t quite place a finger on it.

Just as he was about to ask questions, footsteps were heard from behind them...

Taglist:

@thequeenofpotatoeunicornss  @kceedraws @lilyreadbooks12

[loquaciousquark]

Cut for talk of COVID and irresponsible failure to social distance (my own). Also, some updates on what’s been going on here for the last month or so.

part one:

Very very long story that I am truncating as much as possible. As you all know, I am an optometrist and professor. When we shut down in March, our university made a huge, painful shift to remote learning and our student clinic ceased operations altogether. Neither students nor faculty saw patients from March 15 - the the middle of May. At the end of May, faculty began seeing patients directly in an extremely reduced schedule, and at the beginning of June, we began adding in very limited numbers of students in a rolling schedule that minimized exposure to all involved.

Three weeks ago, my dear friend Jasper contacted me and said that an old friend of hers, whom I will call Carol, was in dire straits after losing her job overseas. Carol has an extremely rocky history: a terrible car accident that left her legs and feet permanently damaged which directly led to a very bad divorce, significant student loan debt (just shy of six digits I think, compounded from the accident, since she used her student loans to pay her medical bills--for anyone reading this, do not EVER EVER EVER DO THIS--student loans are never touched by bankruptcy declarations and you will owe them until you die), and something of an inability to put down roots. She is an English teacher who has taught and traveled all over the world: Prague, Bahrain, Czech Republic, Los Angeles, Rio, etc.

When I first met her about ten years ago, she had come back to Alabama from Prague because a job had fallen through. She was completely broke and living out of two suitcases and a carry-on. She lived with us for three months for free, sleeping in Jasper’s bed because we had no other room for her, and eventually got a job in Boston and moved on. She lasted--I think--about two months in Boston before quitting and taking a job in the Middle East.

On top of her student loan debt, Carol also has significant IRS debt and is in debt to several of her friends. Over the last few years, she took several ill-advised positions overseas back to back without ever consulting a lawyer on her contracts, and did not realize until recently that one of her positions classified her as an independent contractor instead of an employee, so she owed US taxes on all her income for that period of time. Her most recent job in Prague she lost in February because she filed her visa (again, without a lawyer) incorrectly, and what should have been a brief three-week stay outside of the country became a six week stay on the couch of strangers in the Czech Republic while she waited for her visa reapplication to process. However, it was denied, and then COVID hit, and she returned to Alabama with only a portion of her possessions and tons of important paperwork left behind in her Prague apartment. She then unfortunately had two emergency surgeries on her stomach for an acute, unpredictable medical issue, and while she is well healing now, it also added on another forty thousand dollars of medical debt to what she already owed.

She stayed with her mother and sister while she was recovering from the emergency surgeries, but her family is emotionally abusive and very unkind to her, and after a few weeks she left their home and went to stay with Jasper. However, Jasper is also 8 months pregnant with her fourth child, and they both knew it was a temporary thing. Jasper knows that I have a large home with several spare bedrooms, and asked if I would be willing to host Carol for a period of time while she got back on her feet. I knew what I was agreeing to when I said yes, and Carol and I settled on a period of two months. She has now been here almost three weeks.

Frankly, I do not like Carol very much. We are unbelievably different people in every way--personality, temperament, proclivity to crying in front of other people, hobbies, interests, religion, all of it. She is a very nice person, and I think she truly does mean well. But she is the most emotionally needy and energy-sapping person I have ever met, and I cannot tolerate her company in more than small chunks. It is not possible to hold a conversation with her about any subject tangentially related to her difficulties; if I try to sympathize with her loans by mentioning my own, she shuts me down by saying at least I will have the chance to ever pay them back. If I just try to listen without commentary, she’ll wrap herself up in her own stories and talk for hours without ever needing more than “mm”s and “hm”s and my undivided attention the entire time.

She will often work herself up into sobbing tears over her situation(s), and she always informs me immediately of any new development in any of her numerous trials: which are usually negative, considering the situation, and usually resulting in more tears. She has cried on me probably more than a dozen times since she moved in, and she wields “I love you” like a weapon, more to hear the validation of the response than to truly express the sentiment. She constantly asks for advice on her situation but does not listen to any of it--seems more to just want to relive each tragic detail of her life over and over again with an audience, wondering why she’s continually “screwed over in her life.” (Really, really poor financial decisions and constantly trusting her own “intuition” over getting competent legal advice before signing contracts, are I think the biggest contributors.) She has told me so many private details about her personal views, relationships with her ex-husband and mother and sister, her financial choices, and her extensive travel and job history over the last few years that I probably know her history better than my own at this point.

I think she thinks by sharing so much that she is justifying to me her need to stay with me. What is actually happening is that I am forced to help shoulder this enormous emotional load that compounds my own mental health problems I’ve been having since all this started. I have told her more than once that she does not need to justify herself to me and that my home is open to her for two months, no strings attached. I believe she is making all the steps she needs to and do not need reports on her daily activities to “pay” for her lodging or electricity or internet or whatever. This has changed the behavior a little for the better but not stopped it.

There are moments that are not bad. As I have mentioned, she does mean well and want well for most people. She likes Hamlet and loves Jasper, who is extremely important to me. But she is extremely difficult to be around in so many other ways, and the way she constantly exclaims over how we basically think alike on all things (absolutely untrue) makes me think she either will not or cannot read my reluctance to engage on any of these topics.

(An example: I was watching footage of the SpaceX launch and despite my feelings on Elon Musk, really excited about the implications for space travel. She came in, and after misunderstanding for some time that I was not watching Space Force with Steve Carell, decided that the SpaceX program was morally bankrupt, obviously borne of shady backroom government deals, and everyone involved should have used the money to solve world hunger instead. For the record, she had not heard of the shuttle launch, SpaceX, or Elon Musk at all before the seeing the footage.)

(She also until last week had not heard of Playstation, Xbox, streaming as a concept, or any game more modern than the original Mario. Trying to order a grocery delivery online was an excruciating torment for her [took her over four days to get through selecting the items, selecting allowable replacements, and actually paying] and I will not ask her to do it again. She frequently makes comments about video games being a waste of time, and when she sees children playing outside, comments on how glad she is they are not inside playing video games. She doesn’t seem to realize her comments are a direct commentary on me; I think she genuinely does not understand that those games are what I am playing most of my free time.)

Right now, everything seems to hinge on her passing some teacher recertification tests next week and the week after. She spent $150 to give herself less than a week to study from scratch for a test she described as the hardest she’d ever taken. There were several other dates later in the summer she could have chosen, and her deadline is December, but she picked the soonest option for reasons I can’t fathom. She is also in the process of trying to get a car--right now I’m driving her everywhere--and she was ready to hand over $3800 yesterday for a ten-year-old Hyundai with a check-engine light on without even thinking of getting any kind of inspection. She is far more concerned with the color and “energy” of the car than its function, and would not have even checked the headlights and blinkers if I hadn’t prompted it.

She will be here another five weeks or so. We move around each other now better than we did before, and I hope it will continue to improve. But it’s a lot like a rock grinding a groove in the streambed from the repetitive friction, and it’s not the struggle I wanted to be having right now.

part two:

As I mentioned above, Jasper is having her fourth child in a month or so. One of her friends, someone I don’t know, contacted me and said she wanted to do a drive-by “baby sprinkle,” where no one gets out of their cars. You drop off the gifts, talk to the recipient a few minutes from the car window, and move on. I told her that I work in health care and am exposed to patients, so that sounded good to me.

The shower was this morning. Carol and I got up and drove the thirty minutes to Jasper’s house. There were four other families in cars right around the corner, and the “hostess” gave us all balloons to tie on our side mirrors. She told us we would drive around the corner, drop off the gifts, and loop around. Jasper’s husband would arrange for her to be in the front yard at the right time.

Cute enough. We go around the corner with little honks and Jasper sees us and starts crying, and it’s all wonderful and emotional and a fabulous surprise and I’m genuinely excited about it. And then people start parking and getting out of their cars, and Carol and I start looking at each other. They’re full families, too--three of the other moms brought all their kids, and soon enough they’re playing with Jasper’s three boys in the front yard and coming up asking to pet Hamlet through the car window. No one was wearing masks.

And what’s worse, when they all started looking at us expectantly through the car window, we didn’t know what to do. They were handing Jasper her gifts and obviously settling in for a good long chat; the women were hugging, talking about how they are “so over this COVID stuff, please come visit soon,” and Hamlet of course recognizes his original owners in Jasper and her husband so he’s freaking out, and after a few moments, we decided to just get out of the car.

It was the first time I really felt the social pressure to participate in an event I wasn’t comfortable with. I have no issue maintaining my social distance and my mask and my handwashing at work because that is where I have the position of authority, and I have the responsibility to model it for the students and patients--but here, I was a guest at someone else’s house at someone else’s event, and I really, really felt how they might perceive me as rude. While I didn’t know the other women, my relationship with Jasper is extremely important to me, and I didn’t want to make this special event for her difficult in any way.

So we got out of the car and joined the group. I tried to keep my distance as much as possible, especially since I had Hamlet on the leash and there were a half-dozen small children around, but at least twice I looked up and there was someone right at my elbow, and we made small talk for five minutes or so before either she drifted back to the group or I moved Hamlet into the shade away from the rest.

Cars drove by and slowed down more than once to look at us. Jasper’s husband made a comment about rolling his eyes if he saw their family on Facebook that evening. The women planned play dates, all standing very close together, and Jasper opened her gifts (that part was excellent). All in all we were probably there about twenty minutes. 

I should mention that on the drive there, we passed a public park that has a very pretty waterfall right next to the road, and there were probably a dozen families out playing. There was a festival/outdoor market right outside the the park that had a sign up about social distancing, but the fifty or so people we saw shopping there were not adhering in any meaningful way. No one wore a mask.

And what annoys the bejeezus out of me is that I didn’t either. I didn’t even think about it until after we finally got back in the car to drive away. This is the first social event I’ve gone to since the first week of March, and while I wear masks for eight+ hours every day I go in to work, it didn’t occur to me even a single time to put on even my little cloth one that I keep in the car until we were driving away afterwards. I was so flummoxed by every little thing happening differently than I expected--people getting out of cars, how surprised I was by my own susceptibility to not rocking the boat, how normal everyone else made it to stand so close they could bump elbows so that Carol and I became almost excluded from the circle--that it never once crossed my mind. I know masks are more for the protection of those around you, not to keep you from catching what other people are carrying, but I could have set an example. I could have been the health professional I should have been in the moment.

I’m just so disappointed in myself. Disappointed in my own carelessness, irritated that I didn’t say anything, continually frustrated in a deep, gut-wrenching way by the whole situation that requires this in the first place. Bewildered that so many people are “back to normal” while this thing is still spreading, and in brutal honesty wishing I could be like them and just give up the fight myself. I’m not even mad at them. I WANT TO BE THEM. Why am I continually bothering to care and sanitize and mask and stay at home when no one else is? Literally no one would judge me in this state for it more than I’m already being judged (in most cases impersonally, though I felt the potential for it today in specific) for still watching the recommended guidelines.

I am really, really sick of this. I am so sick of feeling alone in this (of being alone in this, and Carol doesn’t count). Hearing other people saying “there there, you’re doing the right thing” honestly makes it even worse. I want people to stop patronizingly telling me to do things I already know are the right thing to do. I want other people as mad as I am that I can’t do the things I want to and need to do instead of being endlessly patient and noble about all the lives they’re saving by staying home. I’m top-of-my-head-blowing-off furious that so many people are shrugging and saying “well this is just the way it will be forever and alas, so it goes” and acting like those of us who did the right thing and cancelled our plans and our trips and our visits to dear friends but who are mad about having to do it are overreacting. I’m so fucking mad about it. I’ve stayed home for two months and I’ve isolated and I’ve quarantined and my hands are cracking from the constant sanitizer/washing at work and except for today I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do for this, and I don’t want to do it. And seeing people be so heroically virtuous and longsuffering on Facebook feels as alien and upsetting to me as the people who go to the beaches with a hundred of their closest friends.

That’s probably unfair in myriad ways. I’m really too angry, including at myelf, to soften it right now.

I want a vaccine and I want to be back in my classroom teaching to fifty faces instead of a screen in my living room, and I’m honestly freaking sick of waiting at home for them to figure this out. And watching everyone else move on with their lives back to the normal I would kill to have is just one more crack in the dike.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: “Gravity”

Good lord, folks. Buckle your seat-belts because we’ve got a lot to get through this episode. I think this is my longest recap to date, so settle in.

Episode Eleven’s “Gravity” starts out simple enough, focusing on the two fights we’d set up during “Out in the Open.” First up, Ironwood vs. Watts. Overall this fight does a really excellent job of showcasing their different fighting styles. Right from the start Watts is pointing his gun forward to take a clear shot at Ironwood, whereas Ironwood points his backwards to use as a surge of momentum.

He’s going to do this frequently throughout the battle, constantly using his gun to maneuver in the air, slow falls, regain his balance, and change directions, a much more complicated series of choices than the one-off shots we see Ruby use with her sniper rifle. This is partly because Ironwood seems to have a much larger supply of bullets---some sort of energy/dust ammo---than Watts does. His steampunk-esque gun holds only nineteen bullets, requiring him to keep track throughout the fight. Which is always a fun trope but sorry, Watts, you can’t compare to the king.

Thus, with limited weaponry available to him, Watts is forced to get creative with the arena itself. We see him manipulating gravity, shooting up columns of water and fire, and making use of his own pathways between platforms, all in an effort to throw Ironwood off and catch up unawares. However, Ironwood is, frankly, the much better fighter. He was right last week to assume he could handle Watts even though he sent three off to tackle Tyrian. He’s able to recover much more quickly and learns from any mistakes, as evidenced by his ability to hit Watts dead on while in the air the second time he takes out the gravity. When they come together in hand-to-hand Ironwood easily dominates, no doubt thanks not just to his military training and huntsmen lifestyle, but also in large part to his prosthetics which I would assume grant him more speed and power. Throughout the course of the fight we see Watts consistently take more damage to his aura and he’s unable to sense when Ironwood is sneaking up on him. After that little maneuver, Watts (presumably) grows reckless and lets off his last three or four shots in a random barrage. All of them miss.

This emphasis on emotion continues when they land back onto the main stage with Watts shouting, “You never appreciated my genius, James! You just stood atop it and called yourself a giant.” Oh, did Ironwood actually do something horrendous in the past? Is there something juicy that would explain---though not excuse---Watts’ turn towards villainy? Nah. He quickly follows that up with, “You chose that fat imbecile over me!” referring to Pietro. So... nice one, Watts. Crazy arrogance, willful ignorance of Pietro’s own, clear genius (anyone who can create Penny is no slouch), as well as a bit of fat-shamming on top of it all. No sympathy from me.

This moment emphasizes how unhinged Watts is becoming though as the fight turns against him. Even when he manages to setup a head shot Ironwood reveals, “You’re smart, but you’re not the only one who can count,” referencing that Watt’s emotions got the better of him, leading to him wasting his last bullet before it could be of real use.

...except not. I’ve got to admit, I was very pleased when all of this---or at least this particular moment---was merely a plan to get Ironwood to let his guard down. Watts is way too smart a character to be done in by the “You got too emotional and that made you sloppy” trope. So kudos there (even if it remains to be seen whether that Pietro comment was really his motivation, or just another part of the plan). Instead, he uses Ironwood’s confidence in his victory to trap him with the rings that control the arena, essentially pinning Ironwood’s non-prosthetic arm through the energy shields he’s been using. We can immediately see that the parts that have touched Ironwood already have horribly burned the skin.

And that ends up being Watt’s downfall. Not stupidity on his own part, but his lack of understanding of Ironwood himself. He assumes that this truly is a trap for him, rather than another sacrifice. After all, what fool would ruin their one remaining arm to stop him? Watts himself wouldn’t. Don’t pull, he cautions Ironwood, not “unless you’re hoping to add more metal to that body of yours.” Watts goes so far as to turn his back on Ironwood who then makes the sacrifice we all knew he would. One burned, useless arm later and he’s free.

I would like everyone to keep this moment in mind. Namely the utter devastation of it. I’d go so far as to say it’s as bad at Yang losing her arm in Volume 3. Despite seeing it bandaged later, Watts at least thinks it will be a complete loss if Ironwood sacrifices it. He’ll need to “add more metal,” AKA replace his arm, so though he obviously still has it in the following scenes, we don’t know if it will ever be functional again. Just as important, Ironwood had to choose to do that to himself. That wasn’t a horrific, but ultimately clean cut done in a moment of surprise. That was a conscious decision, a slow pull through all that pain, and then having to finish your fight immediately afterward. It’s a very different kind of psychological trauma, no better or worse than having someone take your arm from you by force. Throughout this volume I’ve seen a lot of fans being critical not only of Ironwood’s main decisions, but just his overall attitude as well. Too strict, too stern, doesn’t smile enough, yells sometimes, etc. basically associating someone who isn’t all sunshine and smiles with someone who is “bad.” Ignoring for the moment that we can say the same thing about many of our group---notably Yang---I have little doubt that I’ll see similar posts after this episode. Writings in the vein of, “Ironwood is unhinged! I can’t believe he yelled and hit his desk like that!” So everyone just keep this moment in mind and ask yourself how calm you’d be if you’d sacrificed your arm like that all of half an hour ago. And then found Salem’s calling card on your desk. And then came to the realization that the allies you trusted have been lying to you from the start. And then Salem herself appears to mock you. And then your city is about to be overrun. Basic summary of the rest of the episode: holy shit. So yeah. If Yang is allowed to be angry and upset after losing her arm, or just angry in general like she is in the later half of “Gravity,” I think we owe it to Ironwood to let him be angry too. I have a lot of feelings about the utter insanity he’s been forced through with little to no support and if he wants to take all that out by hitting his desk once, by god I’d say that’s a good coping strategy given the circumstances. Both the writing and the fans tend to erase trauma once you’ve passed age 25. The girls have every right to be upset, to break, to not trust people because they’ve been through a few months of hardship, but Ozpin isn’t allowed the same after a couple thousand years of that. We’re going to see the same hypocrisy later in this episode---the group can be upset about lies but Ironwood is not---and I’m hoping (against hope) that the fandom doesn’t make that worse by sweeping this injury under the rug. It’s horrific and absolutely has a bearing on his inability to keep his cool with the group immediately afterwards. We’ve long passed Ironwood owing them endless reassurances and calm responses. 

Anyway, Ironwood still manages to finish the fight because his remaining arm is his robotic one, giving him the strength to easily drag and raise Watts into the air one-handed. He dangles him over the edge of the arena, announcing that he will “sacrifice whatever it takes to stop [Salem].” A clear bit of foreshadowing for his decision at the end of the episode. Watts responds that he hopes he does.

We then move to the Tyrian fight which, on the whole, I don’t think was done quite as well. Granted, there are a lot of enjoyable and badass moments. I like that Clover’s first act is to announce that Tyrian is under arrest, maintaining the law that Atlas (and Ironwood) works to uphold. It doesn’t matter that Tyrian is a crazy serial killer in league with an immortal sorceress hell-bent on destroying the world. Even crazy serial killers have rights and are given the option of surrendering, even when everyone present knows there’s exactly zero chance of that happening. It’s the principal of the thing and the ability to say, “We gave him a chance.” In a world overrun with inequality, this is a small but important attempt to level the field. If you do something wrong you face legal action and those rights are announced to you. Same for Tyrian. Same for Team RWBY. But we’ll get to that.

For now, we see Qrow attack first and like back in Volume Four he and Tyrian are pretty evenly matched. The tide doesn’t turn until Robyn and Clover come into play. Throughout this exchange we see a lot of cool combos among the three of them. Tyrian will block an incoming arrow with his tail only for Clover to snag it with his hook. Robyn can get another arrow to perfectly bounce off the walls and then Qrow’s scythe, hitting Tyrian dead on. Clover can dive between Tyrian’s legs, giving Qrow the opening he needs to attack. It is, as said, pretty badass... almost a little too badass. Personally, I would have appreciated them messing up once or twice. They’re all professionals, yes, but Qrow and Clover have only had one fight together. Robyn, meanwhile, wasn’t even allied with them until an hour ago. This is a situation where skills shouldn’t really trump, “We’re three very distinct people who don’t know each other’s fighting styles well, trying to attack one guy in very close quarters.” There should have been some screw-ups. Especially when we take semblances into account. What, are we supposed to assume here that Clover’s semblance just conveniently overrides Qrow’s? That no mistakes---let alone anything bad---will happen in this fight despite the fact that it’s an extreme parallel to Volume Four? That whole battle emphasized, “Don’t come closer!” because when people fight near Qrow bad shit happens. Now, he fights with two other people in a narrow alleyway and there’s not a single repercussion. Based on their travels looking for the geist, I don’t buy that Qrow’s semblance is just conveniently inactive while near Clover. Even if I did... that’s not a very good writing decision. To me, it’s just more evidence that Rooster Teeth doesn’t understand its own rules/doesn’t know what to do with an ability like Qrow’s. It causes problems only when they explicitly want it to. Then, miraculously, it’s no longer in effect.

Still, we’ll acknowledge that RWBY had a lot else it wanted to accomplish in this episode, so the need to power through this fight is somewhat justified. I personally would have had the entirety of this episode be the two battles---I was shocked when both ended just eight minutes in---but I’m obviously not the one writing the show. Thus, instead of an episode devoted to both the action and the emotion of confronting our two main villains this volume, Tyrian loses his cool after getting punched in the gut, manages to catch Robyn’s arrow in his teeth... 

But it’s a bomb. 

Down he goes. Fight’s done.

Which leads us into the second half of the episode. I want to preface this with a short acknowledgment before we go any further.

Did these last ten minutes give me what I’ve been looking for since the beginning of Volume Six? No. It’s easy to assume it did because all the pieces are there. Ironwood is finally angry about the secret keeping. The Ace Ops are criticizing the group left and right. Surely this is the “The group is capable of making mistakes and they should be called out for it!” that I wanted, right? Not really. For the simple reason that there is a massive difference between:

A story that acknowledges mistakes as mistakes. The characters either grow from this lesson or dig in their heels and are painted as being in the wrong for that decision.

and

A story that takes what the audience (me) perceives as mistakes and frames them as justified choices. The characters do not grow because they’re 100% sure they’re in the right and those who would criticize them are painted as in the wrong. 

“Gravity” is so far into that second option I don’t think the series can come back from it. Does the group face criticism? Yes, but every single time the writing insists that it’s undeserved criticism. It paints the group as the underdogs facing unfair odds, rather than equals---with all the responsibility that comes with that---facing criticism that they need to own up to. Absolutely nothing in this second half implies that the group is going to learn from their mistakes because they, and the writing, still insists that they weren’t mistakes. Which is precisely what we’ve gotten before. Cordovin might criticism them, but Cordovin is in the wrong. Winter might criticism them, but Winter is in the wrong. Every time a character goes, “Hey, you shouldn’t have done this” the group responds with, “Yes we should have!” and the story backs them up. Yes, you should have attacked Argus. Yes, you should have stolen an airship. Yes, you should have lied to Ironwood and spilled the secret to Robyn. Yes, yes, yes. That’s the takeaway every single time. The group is never in the wrong. Others just think they are and those others are painted as cruel, militaristic, unhinged characters.

It’s not at all what I was looking for. Just more of the same.

So that’s the preface. In terms of what we actually get, Ironwood returns to his office with his arm bandaged and in a sling, carrying Watts’ bag, only to drop it when he sees the queen piece on his desk. He calls Winter asking, “Was anyone caught entering the school grounds while I was away?” and when she says no Ironwood has her race off to the Winter Maiden, unknowingly leading Cinder there in the process. “Now show me where you’ve been hiding her.”

We then cut to the group where the trouble begins. They’re not just curious about why Ironwood is recalling them with Mantle still in need of evacuation, they’re actively questioning it. This is the attitude I simply don’t understand. The group acts as if Ironwood is deliberately screwing everyone over when they know better. This is no longer the beginning of the volume where they thought he was some horrific dictator hell bent on destroying his own Kingdom. This is just an hour or so after, “We should tell Ironwood!” and the happy-go-lucky ‘We trust him now’ moment. Even less time after Ruby stared up at him in awe with, “He’s doing it.” They had reason to trust him before they even made it to Atlas. They were given even more reasons in the form of Ironwood sharing his secrets, early licenses, and being allowed to work on the tower. They then still waited until Ironwood was doing everything they wanted before giving him some of that trust back... but the moment he stops doing precisely what they want---we want to keep evacuating Mantle---he’s deemed suspicious again. 

I mean seriously, is the group that dense? Are they incapable of thinking to themselves, “Wow, something must have happened if Ironwood is recalling us before evacuations are complete,” which is precisely the case. The scene tries to frame it as “Group Good” and “Ace Ops Blinding Obeying Orders Bad” but that aspect doesn’t even come into play. There’s nothing blind about it. It simply takes two seconds of critical thinking skills to realize that something really awful must have happened back at the Academy that trumps what you’re doing in Mantle. This is what I mean by the writing being biased. Before we even reach the fight in Ironwood’s office it’s trying to paint him as potentially cruel, potentially suspicious, potentially abandoning his people, look how worried our heroes are about this secret decision he’s made... when all that requires ignoring some really basic deduction in order to reach those assumptions. Remember that intelligence is a plot device in RWBY. If they want Ironwood forced to spill his secrets, he’ll randomly start talking about them in front of his enemies. If they want Ironwood painted as the villain, the group will randomly be incapable of realizing that maybe, just maybe, something went wrong on the home front and you’re needed there.

Things just get so much worse from then on. The group splits with JNR going off to find Oscar and, admittedly, I was shocked we got that at all. I mean yeah, it’s setup for the final reveal at the end of the episode, but the fact that anyone remembered Oscar was missing---let alone happily went off to find him---was still a surprise. So only Team RWBY heads back to Ironwood’s office where they find him (rightfully) panicking over the queen on his desk. Weiss tries to baby him, acting like he’s freaking out over nothing, when all these characters should recall precisely what Ironwood himself points out: the last time we saw this symbol it was a message that Beacon had fallen. He’s not paranoid here. He’s entirely justified in his panic. Ironwood likewise points out that they may have been duped into bringing thousands of people into Atlas as easy targets and Vine agrees, setting up that the Ace Ops are on Team Ironwood throughout the course of this conversation. Not out of blind loyalty, but because he’s right. That is a concern. That may be the plan. We do need to try and do something about that. Team RWBY, however, isn’t convinced.

That is, until Ruby realizes that the chess piece is made of black glass. Which means Cinder left it. Normally I’d congratulate her on that deduction---it is the one smart move we see Ruby pull this whole episode---but I just hate what follows. Namely that Ruby and Ruby alone controls her team’s opinions on a situation. Again. We saw it back in the snow, then again when Blake announced in the elevator that they’d do whatever she wanted. Team RWBY is the one who blindly follows their leader, not the Ace Ops, the only exception being Blake and Yang going rogue in regards to Robyn, but we see that hive-mind mindset here again. Ironwood brings up a good point? Nothing. Ace Ops support that point with more logic? Nothing. Ruby supports it? Oh, suddenly Weiss and Blake are taking this seriously. Suddenly Yang is fired up and ready to do whatever is necessary. Ruby controls the room. It’s only when she’s on board that her teammates decide this is worth getting riled up about.

Which, as I’ve said before, is a horrible way to write a diverse group. Especially when the writing is trying to paint the Ace Ops as mindless soldiers. For all their claims that they just have to follow orders, they’re the only ones parsing through this situation and coming to their own conclusions. It’s just that their conclusions do end up aligning with Ironwood’s which is the “bad” take in this scene. Team RWBY, however, waits until their leader makes a decision and then simply rides her cloak tails. The day that Blake, Yang, or Weiss legitimately disagree with Ruby---not a token “Are you sure we should keep secrets from Ironwood? We’re not actually challenging this. Just checking in”---is the day the writing will disagree with her. AKA, no time soon.

Blake tries to give some bland reassurance about them all being with Ironwood to which he responds, “Are you with me? How did Robyn know about the global communications tower?” Thank you! Thank you for giving us Ironwood’s characterization back and acknowledging that he has no reason to buy their generic ‘Got your back’ statements when everything they’ve done this volume has proven otherwise. They don’t support Ironwood, only themselves and their own teams. The minute he does something they don’t like he’s chucked under the bus. Too bad the writing doesn’t acknowledge any of this and instead continually paints the group as being justified in their decisions. It’s that hypocrisy again. When the group yells at Ozpin for keeping secrets we’re supposed to be on their side. When the Ace Ops yell at the group for keeping secrets we’re... still supposed to be on their side.

Weiss tries to diffuse the situation with “None of this matters right now!” which is real rich when they were just complaining about Ironwood not telling them why they were called back. They get to worry over that, but Ironwood isn’t allowed to worry about them outright betraying him? “Loyalty always matters!” he shouts back and he’s right. Why should Ironwood trust them to have his back in this crucial moment when they’ve never had it before? I’m already seeing more of this hypocrisy among the fandom. When Ozpin kept secrets and told lies the group was given a whole volume to be pissed about that and fans still, to this very day, insist that it hasn’t been enough time for them to get over it, to regain even a portion of that trust. But now that Ironwood has been lied to and betrayed in the same manner? People are annoyed that he’s not just shrugging it off. How dare you not get over in thirty seconds what our heroes got weeks to work through. His inability to just suck it up, as it were, is used to make him seem irrational here. I don’t see anyone, characters or fans alike, acknowledging that his anger is as righteous as the group’s was out in the snow. That there is the disconnect.

Of course, something has to break the tension. Drawn by all the fury and fear, a grimm pops out of Watts’ bag. A fail-safe for if he was defeated and captured. Salem immediately takes control of the grimm and kills it, using its form to appear before them. She reveals that it doesn’t matter that her men were captured. They were just there to “set the stage,” which they’ve done. Still doesn’t explain the random Penny side plot to my mind (seriously, why did the story bother to resurrect her when she has done nothing plot-wise or emotionally?), but whatever. Much more importantly, the stage is set for Salem herself. She’s approaching with the grimm army we saw her amassing which is... iffy.

First off, why? Why after a thousand years has she suddenly changed her MO from keeping to the sidelines to a full-on attack? Again, what’s the catalyst for that massive change? We don’t know. Meanwhile, from a writing perspective, I’m hesitant about having our Big Bad thrown into the mix before the finale. We know there are plenty of volumes left in this series, which automatically undermines any battle they might have with Salem. Will they win?? Of course not! Because RWBY isn’t over yet. Granted, this could all just be a ruse of some sort. Maybe Salem just wants them to think she’s approaching with an army, which would be much more up her alley in terms of long-distance manipulation. But if not... seriously, what’s the point of that?

Here’s hoping it’s a bluff.

Speaking of manipulation, we get a fantastically creepy moment where Salem tells Ironwood to “simply accept the futility of your situation” while smiling like a kind mother. That’s the Salem who is truly dangerous. Ironwood reaffirms that he won’t give up the relics and Ruby pips up with, “We don’t have to kill you to stop you.”

Hey wait. I’m gonna give you all another graphic.

This is Ozpin’s stance! This is his plan! His version of hope! We spent all of Volume Six having the cast beat on him for, “Omg Salem is immortal?!” and with the exception of Nora’s comment, no discussion of this in Volume Seven... but now suddenly Ruby is making this announcement? The group came to this revelation sometime off screen which we a) don’t get to see and b) once again created no scenario in the form of, “Wow! Ozpin was right all along! Maybe we should go talk to him...”

I’m just... wow. The number of times the writing takes what the group and the adults do, the exact same perspectives and decisions, and twists it so that the group comes out looking like heroes and the adults look like misguided, unhinged fools who need to be put in their place... I’m really over it at this point. And by extension the group themselves. Their characterizations have been so badly mangled at this point I legitimately don’t like them as people. I don’t care if they say they want to protect Mantle, or if they say they’ll support Ironwood, or if they say they’re unsure about their choices. All their actions claim otherwise.

Rather than grappling with the huge revelation that the group is apparently no longer obsessed with Salem’s immortality (or rather that Ruby isn’t. The rest of the group doesn’t actually matter. As established, they sync up with her beliefs the second she announces them), we return to Summer Rose. Salem goes, “Your mother said those words to me” and Ruby... loses it? What? I would have been 100% on board with this if we’d gotten it last Volume because then we saw Ruby losing her cool periodically. The smashed alcohol bottles. Chucking her scroll. Screaming at Qrow. That was all building to something. But then we had a year and roughly twelve episodes of normality. Ruby jumps into her fight with Cordovin and has been fine ever since. Hell, she’s been bubbly and confident, goofing off with Penny in one episode, then giving strong orders to her team in another. The one time we see her falter was in her conversation with Qrow and he reassured her completely that she was both doing the right thing and in no way comparable to Ozpin. Now, suddenly, one line from Salem and Ruby collapses? Full on incapacitated? I could buy the crying while still standing strong, I could buy a collapse if we’d kept her characterization going from Volume Six, but this kind of reaction in this context just felt so extreme. Doesn’t help that I really wasn’t sold on the voice acting here. Those cries sound less like devastated sobs and more like weird hiccups. Not to rag on Lindsay. On the whole I think she does a really excellent job as Ruby, it’s just this particular moment didn’t read right to me. I didn’t feel Ruby’s supposed grief here.

So that was... a lot for one line from Salem in a volume of otherwise confident and cool-headed Ruby. We also don’t see it amounting to anything, as per usual with RWBY’s writing. Ruby isn’t out of commission for the rest of the conversation or anything. She pops right back up after a second in Yang’s lap, just as confident and go-getting as before. There was no lead up to this and there are no consequences for the breakdown. Rooster Teeth honestly seems to think they can just chuck random things into the story---Ruby needs to show emotion at some point!---and then just leave it at that, entirely disconnected from everything else around it. Would we have known that Ruby just had her first breakdown of the series a minute later while once again betraying Ironwood? Nope.

Finally, this scene shows us again that the Argus battle was a bunch of nonsense. Ruby’s eyes nearly activate when she’s grieving for her mother, imagining---or perhaps seeing via Salem?---a sad Summer, not a smiling one. Just like her eyes activated while seeing Pyrrha die. Just like they activated when Blake was nearly killed by the Apathy. They activate now while thinking about her mother’s death. The montage of happy moments in lieu of the sad ones not working last volume was entirely out of place.

Salem finally leaves. Now everyone is panicking about this army. Elm points out that they’ll know if anything approaches. Vine checks and realizes that Watts took out their perimeter. Either that or Salem has already destroyed everyone and everything out there. It’s impossible to know. During all this Blake asks if the Amity tower is actually finished and we get more nonsense about how Ironwood is evil for telling a lie, but the group is always justified in telling theirs. The writing really tried to compare Ironwood telling Mantle---who I guarantee 100% does not care about whether a communications tower is finished while they’re getting attacked by grimm---a lie to lure out one of their biggest threats to Blake and Yang going behind Ironwood’s back to tell a potentially non-trustworthy outlaw about said tower, risking that the information would fall into the wrong hands and doom the project before it could be completed either way. Those are not in any way comparable situations, yet the writing really has Weiss going, “General Ironwood?” in a ‘How could you betray us like that?’ tone while Yang continues to look pissed.

And as if they didn’t know! How is this a personal betrayal? They were all helping to build that tower. Surely they’d know it it was that close to being done. Again, critical thinking skills, people. Anyone with two brain cells and their insider information should have looked at Ironwood’s announcement and gone, “Oh, that must be a bluff. Just a few days ago we were arguing about whether to continue taking resources from Mantle. No way is Amity ready. He’s going after Watts. Who is indeed the much bigger threat. Considering that he has control over the entirety of our technology and there’s literally no downside to telling Mantle about a finished tower when they’re getting devoured by grimm.” This is another, “But lying is wrong!” in the face of “But lying kept us alive...?” 

Does everyone get what I’m saying here? How RWBY takes these situations and tries to paint them in an absolutely ridiculous light, expecting the audience to blindly accept this perspective despite everything else they’ve seen for themselves? Like, two episodes ago? I swear I’ve never encountered writing that treats its audience this badly. Scene after scene relies heavily on the viewer having no ability to think for themselves. Just accept that Ironwood is a horrible person for lying about the tower even though there are no repercussions for that and we JUST watched him defeating Watts as a result. Like, five minutes ago. That just happened. In this episode. 

Ironwood then drops the bomb that Winter has gone off to claim the Maiden power. Interesting development. I wonder what that means exactly. Is she just going to lock herself away until the Maiden dies naturally? Do they have her on some sort of life support and is there an agreement to pull the plug if necessary? Are they going to use a machine similar to the one Pyrrha was in and try to force the change early? Or is this just a misleading comment and Winter is merely off to protect the Maiden, no intention of taking the power now? Who knows. We’ll have to wait until next episode to find out.

Ironwood likewise announces that the staff and the lamp need to be locked away now that they’re compromised, even though they’ve been compromised since they first saw Tyrian in Mantle. Insert another [this scenario is so stupid and contrived] explanation here. It’s made worse by Ruby’s childish “You said we could keep it.” Excuse me? What, did you think the lamp was your personal property now forever and always? Is Ruby really sitting there arguing that something Ironwood told her weeks ago trumps the obvious logic of putting the relic where it’s somewhere safe? That’s the characterization we’re going for, a leader who cares more about, ‘But you said we could have it!’ over the fate of the world? What even is this? The fact that Ironwood has to explain to them that the situation has changed just reinforces the group’s overall attitude. That is, one of arrogance and importance. They literally need to be told why putting the relic in a nearly impenetrable vault is better than letting them have it just because they want it. Plus, you know, they lied about the lamp from the start. So there’s that too.

Finally, Ironwood reveals that Amity was originally a plan of Ozpin’s but he didn’t push it far enough. Instead, he intends to use the staff to lift all of Atlas instead, hopefully taking two relics and a Maiden far out of Salem’s reach. Ruby wants to use the tower for its designed purpose instead, which is only a valid option in her mind because the writing was stupid last week. If there had actually been any logic there---if people had been allowed to react naturally and in a variety of ways to the Salem announcement, rather than a super convenient “Yeah! Let’s all work together!” across an entire, panicking city---she wouldn’t be quite so eager to tell the whole world. But we all know at this point that logic bends to the protagonists’ whims, so Ruby wants that same perfect ending across all of Remnant. She stands her ground, as does her team. Obviously.

Meanwhile, the Ace Ops aren’t just following Ironwood’s orders like the writing wants us to think via Harriet’s earlier comment. Rather, they’re each thinking through the situation for themselves and making very good points. If Salem has taken out our perimeter than we know our tech and people don’t stand a chance against this army. We just finished up the fight in Mantle and none of us are in a position to start another. Notably, Harriet brings this up, the one whose aura took a massive hit while nearly getting crushed underfoot. Vine points out that sometimes you have to lose a battle to win the war, but Team RWBY, to be blunt, simply doesn’t care.

I’ll be blunt myself here too: I don’t have an easy solution to this particular scenario. I don’t know what the “right” or the “wrong” choice is. Weighing starting a fight with VERY high stakes you’ll lose against abandoning the people of Mantle is just a straight up horrific decision. Like so much of what Ozpin faced, there is no clear-cut, good answer here. Do you stand by the people and risk the world, or work to save the world and doom the people? I don’t know and I do commend Rooster Teeth for writing a difficult choice... just not in giving each side the weight it deserves. Because as said, we’re meant to root for Team RWBY, always. Theirs is presented as the “right” choice every time, despite the fact that, as established, this is far from a black and white decision.

What frustrates me the most is when faced with all of these logical and very important considerations (we might not have backup, we’re in no position to fight, if Salem gets the relics and another Maiden the world is screwed) the group won’t even acknowledge these things. They’re so set in their own perspective they won’t even give these HUGE concerns the time of day. Rather, Yang shoots back, “You can’t just back down from a fight!”

That’s it. That’s the group’s problem in a single line.

This is what got Pyrrha killed.

It’s something the group should remember. She also insisted on fighting when she should have retreated and, since this was back during the days when characters actually faced consequences for their actions, it cost Pyrrha her life. Granted, going after Cinder was a truly useless endeavor. Pyrrha achieved nothing with her sacrifice. Here, Team RWBY hopes to save the people of Mantle, adding a clear justification for their insistence on fighting... but this is nevertheless indicative of that larger “punch it until it stops moving” mindset. It’s not that they decide to fight instead of retreating that’s the problem, it’s that to their mind fighting is the only option. Ever. This is what led to them attacking Cordovin and destroying Argus’ mech, drawing a massive grimm in the process. When faced with the option of backing down, Team RWBY doesn’t consider that an option at all. Which is heroic when up against an actual enemy, far less so when you’re facing an ally and the choice to fight has serious repercussions attached to it. Hell, the group doesn’t even consider compromises. They could have easily acknowledged that collecting the relics, the Maiden, and getting the staff to work on Atlas will take time. You do that while we focus on evacuating the rest of Mantle to the city. But no, even the concept of a compromise simply isn’t possible. You just always fight. Straight up. Anyone who suggests anything less isn’t a true huntsmen. “We’re loyal to the people!” Ruby shouts, as if “the people” doesn’t also include the rest of the world that Ironwood is trying to save and that they’re endangering by keeping the relics and Maiden within Salem’s reach. 

That is one messed up perspective to tout in a story infused with the complex and the morally gray.

The real kicker though? Ruby’s ‘My way or the highway’ attitude obliterates a solution that fell straight into her lap. Jaune calls and says straight out that they have another situation. If Ruby had listened to her teammate for just three seconds they all would have learned about Oscar, thereby undermining Ironwood’s plan. He can’t keep the lamp safe if he doesn’t know where it is. You look for it while, again, we evacuate Mantle. Then we take everything out of Salem’s reach. Win-win. Instead, Ruby blasts her way through the situation. Literally, dodging Ironwood and hiding behind his desk shouting a highly bias version of his plan in the hopes of getting everyone on her side. And it works. 

Because those like Clover don’t get to hear any of that context. Like how the perimeter is gone, there’s an army potentially coming, no one is in a position to fight, we’ve already lost a relic... they just here a Ruby’s version of events that paints Ironwood as the callous man Robyn thought he was---oh my god he’s abandoning Mantle for no good reason!---and people will react accordingly. Ruby likewise doesn’t care that shouting such information over all channels does things like, say, clue Tyrian into their plan. She just wants to do things her way, right now. Pausing to think (because thinking isn’t fighting) simply doesn’t happen.

I used to adore Ruby as a hero. Someone who was intrinsically good, hopeful, and wickedly clever in her ability to come out on top. Now she’s stubborn, arrogant, at times cruel, and charges in headfirst like her sister, refusing to consider any perspective other than her own. And her team endlessly supports that. The writing endlessly supports that. This isn’t our hero working through her flaws, but rather a flawed character that the writing refuses to acknowledge is flawed. When Ruby flies behind Ironwood’s desk the music rises triumphantly, just like it did when she attacked Cordovin’s mech. When Ironwood announces that they’re under arrest, Ruby spits back, “We won’t just let you take us” and we’re supposed to cheer.

Which brings us back to the question of whether the group really faced consequences here. Let me give you all a random, non-RWBY example of two scenes. Scenario One:

Parent: You punched her?

Teen: She insulted me!

Parent: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you were justified in attacking her.

Teen: Oh, I was.

Parent: Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t, but you can’t solve all your problems that way.

Teen: I... I know that, okay. Back off. I just get so angry...

Parent: I know. We’re going to work on that. You’re grounded this weekend. We can discuss this more then.

Teen: [sighs] Fine.

vs. Scenario Two:

Parent: You punched her?

Teen: She insulted me!

Parent: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you were justified in attacking her.

Teen: Oh, I was.

Parent: Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t, but you can’t solve all your problems that way.

Teen: Screw you! It worked didn’t it? I think a good punch goes a long way.

Parent: That’s not... okay look. You’re grounded this weekend so---

Teen: Like hell I am. [Proceeds to run off]

Teen: [Later to friend] ---and then she tried to ground me? Can you believe that?

Friend: Holy shit what an asshole.

If we put aside my own iffy dialogue for the moment, Scenario One acknowledges the complexity of the situation while likewise pointing out that the teen didn’t handle herself well. RWBY has achieved that here: the ethics of this scenario are acknowledged as complicated, but the group did things they shouldn’t have, as evidence by Ironwood’s anger and the Ace Ops’ criticism. However, Scenario One goes on to let the teen acknowledge that mistake, thereby validating it in the first place. A consequence is set, grounding, and they accept that, thereby further validating that their behavior needs work. They accept the consequence because both they and the writing acknowledge that the consequence is deserved. It takes what was previously two subjective stances---they say I’m wrong, I say I’m right---and encourages the audience to find the middle ground. Neither was totally wrong or right. The teen might be justified in some respects, but still made mistakes in others. She needs to improve. 

RWBY, however, steers firmly into Scenario Two wherein the teen (Team RWBY) insists points blank that they never made mistakes in the first place, thereby encouraging the audience to question whether Ironwood and the Ace Ops (the parent) is right to be calling them out at all. We see no humility or guilt, only confidence. Ruby shouting “No!” at Cordovin when she’s told to surrender. Yang keeping silent after admitting that she and Blake told Robyn, not bothering to apologize or admit that this might have been a breech of trust. They challenge the validity of the claim that mistakes were made and by virtue of being protagonists encourage the audience to challenge it too. Finally, we see them reject the consequence because they will not admit that it’s deserved. The teen will not accept a grounding. Ruby: “We won’t just let you take us.” We’re then told by others that this rejection was warranted. The friend reinforces the view that the teen was right to run because that punishment is undeserved. The message is, “You never did anything wrong in the first place.” The plot of RWBY likewise reinforces the view that resisting Cordovin’s arrest was right by having her randomly let the group go. The consequence is replaced with a reward and, presumably, we’ll have a similar situation wherein the group either defeats the Ace Ops or is released by them. The consequences never take hold because the writing doesn’t think there should be consequences in the first place. Team RWBY isn’t going to be arrested here. They’re certainly not acknowledging that on some level they deserve to be. We didn’t see that humility while they were cuffed on the airship---that most basic acknowledgement of, “Did we make some mistakes? Could we have done something better? Is Ironwood right to be this mad?”---and there’s none of it now here, either. The tone is pure, “How dare you try and arrest us? We’re the good guys here!” 

This remains as pro-protagonist as it has been the last two volumes. There are no consequences, only another hurdle for the group to overcome, painted as heroes for doing so. It’s Team RWBY vs. The Ace Ops and there’s no confusion about who we’re supposed to be rooting for. The Ace Ops because the group should rightly be stopped from hindering Ironwood’s attempts to keep the relics and a Maiden out of Salem’s hands, for their own lies and secret keeping that endangered them all this volume? Nope. It’s Team RWBY as the presumed heroes, facing off against soldiers who (supposedly) prioritize orders over what’s “right.” 

And yeah, Oscar is gone. There are a number of dismantled robots and blaster fire in the room where Neo presumably took him. So unless they do a flashback we don’t get to see if/how Ozpin reacted to this initial attack. I hope they do provide a flashback because otherwise that’s another crucial scene of Oscar’s that happened off screen...

Can’t wait to see what else we’ll end up with next week! Until then, 💜