#but like id really just rather ignore pretty much the whole time i lived in LV | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orangecreamsickle · 1 year ago

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Hard secrets (1/?)

Note: So, I kinda thought about writing this for a while, but it’s also inspired by this here:

It’s basically the exact opposite.

absent mother, Gn!reader,

When you were a kid you never really questioned why you had to pretend to not know you were in public, but one day you asked your dad after finding out your peers don’t have to do that.

“Papa, why do I have to pretend your a stranger?”You innocently asked Yagi.

He chuckled and pulled you into his lap, explaining he just wanted to keep you safe. People would hurt you if it meant also hurting him.

Your mom was never in the picture. You’re the product of an affair. Your dad didn’t know she was married, and she gave you to him the second you were born.

You had her eyes, her hair, her quirk.

Undeniably hers.

It was your first day at U.A., and you were nervous. It took lots of convincing to get your dad to let you go to this school. You missed the entrance exam, but he pulled a few strings. The only person who knew about your father was you and Yagi. Not even his beloved apprentice.

You went to the office to pick up a few things, and struggled to find your classroom. “1-A” the paper read.

Eventually, you managed to find it, but of course, you were late. You slide the door open to try to sneak to an empty seat, but your teacher sees you.

“Since it’s your first day, I understand. You may introduce yourself.” The black haired middle aged man says.

You hold onto your bag tightly, scanning each face.

“My name is [Y/N]. I’m 16 years old, and my quirk is Yin and Yang. I can control light and darkness.”

Once you finished speaking, you look for an empty seat, ignoring the excited chatter of your classmates. You find a seat behind the green haired boy you recognize to be Midoriya. Yagi spoke of him often.

Class went by quickly. Once it was lunch time, students crowd your desk to get to know you.

Someone you’d come to know as Iida introduces himself as the class president.

After everyone leaves to get lunch, aside from Midoriya, Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki.

“Would you like to eat lunch with us?” Urakara asks. She smells sweet. Like cherries.

You nod, grabbing your lunch and following. The group of friends, listening to their conversation. You, Todoroki, and Iida walk toward the back, while uraraka and midoriya joke and laugh.

“Where’d you come from? Why choose U.A.?” Iida asks, Todoroki listening.

“I actually live pretty close from here, but it took a while to convince my guardian to let me come here. I want to be a hero, which is why I chose this course.” You leave out the parts about your real dad, having practiced for the past 16 years.

“Who’s your guardian, if you don’t mind my asking?” Iida asks curiously.

“I’d rather not speak of it.” You dodge the question with perfectly practiced responses.

Iida nods, and changes the topic. You, iida, and Todoroki have a nice conversation. You get to know more about iida. Not much about Todoroki. He seems like a hard shell to crack.

You see your dad in the hallway, and of course like normal, you keep a straight face and walk past him.

The rest of the day passes you by. You find your dorm, and relax, sighing after your long day. You get a phone call. You answer without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey kid! How was your first day? Did you make any friends? Nobody was mean to you, we’re they?” It was your dad. He bombards you with questions- his way of showing he cared.

You answer his questions honestly, chuckling at the obvious worry in his tone.

After a while, you hang up, telling him you’ve gotta finish your homework. You were lying, of course, but you didn’t want him to spend his whole evening on the phone with you, knowing how busy his schedule normally is.

Instead, you step outside- despite how prohibited it seems to be- and go on a walk. You enjoy the cool autumn breeze. After a while you come back to the dorms, and carefully sneak back in. As your walking through the lounge area, you jump at seeing Todoroki sitting there.

“Oh- hi.. your awake..?” Your nervous, and wondering if he’d seen you sneak in.

He nods, looking up from his book.

You walk closer, peering at his book.

“What’re you readin’?” You ask curiously, tilting your head to try and see the cover.

He shows you the cover, and you see it’s a romance novel. You sit next to him.

“What’s it about?” You look at the book. It has a pretty cover with nice lettering.

“A love triangle.” He says simply.

You nod, and sit there awkwardly. It’s clear that’s all he was going to say. You wish him a good night, before going up to your dorm, and going to sleep for the night.

You slowly drifted off to sleep to the sounds of trees swaying in the wind drifting in through your open window.

The next day was much like the day before, and the school day ended on a positive note. Today you decide to chat with iida and Todoroki in the lounge after school. You three talk about school that day.

“Does Mr.Aizawa always sleep in that sleeping bag?” You are truly perplexed about your home room teacher spending half of the class period sleeping in his bright yellow sleeping bag.

They both nod, and Iida speaks first. “Yes, he does enjoy sleeping. He is a good teacher, so it’s not too big of an issue.”

You chuckle, finding it pretty funny. As your about to respond, you get a call from your dad. You excuse yourself and take the call, walking a few steps away.

“Hello, young child. How was your second day?” You hear some sounds in the background, so you assume he’s still at work.

“It was good. I’m in the lounge hanging out with some friends.”

“Am I interrupting?”

“A little, actually. But I appreciate you calling” You add the last part so he doesn’t feel bad about calling.

“Okay then young one, enjoy your evening. I’ll return to my work. Good night, I love you.”

“Good night.”

The call was brief, but not unwelcome. You hung up, and sat back onto the couch near the two friends.

“Who was that?” Iida asks politely.

“My guardian- they like to call every day, to check in on me.” You are careful to be vague about the identity of your guardian.

Iida nods. “That is very sweet of them!”

You chuckle and nod. “Yeah- I agree!”

The rest of your evening is calm as you eat dinner, wind down, and fall asleep to the sounds of nature drifting in through your window

The three of you talk a bit more before you retire to your bedroom for the night. You take off your uniform, and step into the shower.

#reading #fanfic #fanfiction #all might #my hero x reader #my hero fanfic #all might x reader #all might x you #all might platonic #platonic

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notsodailycake · 2 years ago

Note

Controversial take here:

I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve decided I can’t like Luis. It seems they’ve talked a few times over email, but that’s as far as it went. Luis should’ve recognized she wasn’t interested and stopped asking her out. My main gripe with him, however, isn’t over what he did, but what he DIDN’T do. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Vanessa hacked into the Pizzaplex. If it was literally anyone else on the planet, he would’ve reported them right away. But he let his feelings get in the way, and chose not to intervene.

When someone you like, or even love, is in a situation like this, you don’t bury your head in the sand. You intervene. I know he tried to talk to her, but that should’ve been the last straw. He should’ve acknowledged it was now a major work related issue after she never responded, and done his job. Not to mention everything else he let her get away with, or just didn’t notice. I feel confident anyone else wouldn’t have been given that much leeway with the red flag searches, or been brushed off like that. I mean, she LITERALLY typed “help” and he just moved on. That, to me at least, is very nearly unforgivable.

Because here’s the thing: if Vanessa was stopped then and there, that would’ve been that. I’m pretty sure they could run the hack back once it was uncovered and actually fix it. And, at the very least, Vanessa wouldn’t have killed any kids. Furthermore, with the glitch identified, I’m sure they could stop any other beta testers influenced by Afton. They might’ve been able to purge the virus from Vanessa after studying it. And it’s not like Burntrap was the real problem anyway. GLITCHtrap is the real threat. We can clearly see that Vanny’s been down in the basement, even sleeping there, so it’s entirely possible he wouldn’t even exist if not for her.

That’s not to say that all of the suffering is his fault, though. Hell, he’s a bit of victim, to. After their first in person conversation, in which he talks about her being interested in IT stuff, Vanessa created that fake ID to hack into the system. Vanessa, or rather Afton, used Luis for information.

I guess this is my own simping for Vanessa, expressing my anger at the one person who was in a position to see her descent into a very dark pit, and yet, for whatever reason, failed to stop her fall.

Maybe I could like Luis if the three star ending was the true one, with Vanessa getting freed and gaining a family in the process. But as far as the story, she’s still trapped in a living hell, with very little chance of escape. And the flames will only get hotter for her.

In my mind, the lesson contained in those emails and what follows is this: when you choose to ignore that someone you care about is in trouble, you will only make it far worse for THEM.

Wow there buddy, that's alot of words for a luis enjoyer like me- /j

Seriously tho, heh, sorry it took so long to reply to this. I was actually excited to get it, and wanted to form a proper reply/argument to this, so i had to get my facts straight. Bc i honestly dont like to just blindly defend a character (and this bit will be explained further into my argument)

So this one is gonna be a long one folks ;)

I'll start off and say that, i agree with your statement really.

To an extent. I still have my own points to argue obviously, i wouldn't be writing a whole analysis if not XD

Now this isn't something to make you change your mind on Luis, but my own views and opinions on it

I will share some stuff that i personally think before i go to your argument about Luis, just so you can maybe see my perspective of it all. And it inevitably will involve Vanessa and Gregory (and quite possibly Freddy)

I'll state that, i like flawed characters. I like characters with flaw. They are fun to write, and it makes them feel more human.

I don't belive in the good or bad, i belive that some characters are in a darker spectrum and others are on a lighter spectrum, but never black and white

Only characters who are insane would be so dark, and even then, I'd see some lighter shade to it

And purely white characters are annoying as hell, perfect doesn't make it good

And now this is probably a take of mine that you will probably not like, but it isn't an attack on you either I'm not mad at you for it lol, but, i dislike the purification of Vanessa that I've realised you've been doing throughout this. I like the fact that Vanessa is flawed, my view on her is that she isn't some perfect victim that needs constant protection (and this inevitably will probably be my own projection of myself onto her, since i was a victim of verbal abuse and some sort of manipulation as a kid), but she also needs help obviously

I don't think she deserved what she went through at all, if that's what you think, but that doesn't make it right to give her everything when she wasn't the only victim. I dislike the fact that everything seems to have to cater to her needs, when others where affected as well. She needs help, and so does the rest. Like Gregory

As much as i love and enjoy the sibling dynamic for them, i dont want to undermine what Gregory went through with her. Sure it wasn't her fualt, but Gregory is just a kid, and he almost died by her hands, he has his rights to be scared of her and avoid her, and that's why i don't like the idea of him imitatedly falling in on opening up to her or helping her, it takes time. Healing takes time, and it's something you'll see me explore more throughout the next parts (this probably is also me projecting, since i myself could never feel hurt or let myself heal bc the person who hurt me was also going through shit, probably worse then me, and I was the one helping them, even if they were the adult and i was a child, 9, i was 9. And it sucks bc it still affects me. So i am a little sensitive about this topic). And with that Vanessa also has every right to not want to be with Gregory bc of her inevitable trauma about killing kids

Both were hurt, and now they have to learn how to put the pieces back together. And I'll add as well about Freddy, even if the issue is small. Gregory hurt his friends, and upgraded him with his Friend's body parts. That, to a sentient robot, is horrible. But i know he can understand the kid's pov. But he's still hurt by it

And it's something they will have to work it out together

So general idea. I like the flaws of the characters, and i dont plan on defending them, but i also dont blame them or am happy they suffered. I want them to heal, i want to show how much actually healing takes time and effort for both parties

I like to look into every perspective. From the victim, from the outsider and from the abuser.

And now this lead to my reply to the Luis part

I will say, as i re read the emails from luis, yeah maybe so, he should have stopped, and my only reason to defend in this are possibly not even canon. But to me, I'd say she did show interest on him, if going by the therapy CDs, when she mentioned Luis you could practically see her twirling her hair by the tone of her voice

Or maybe it's just me-- but she sounded genuinely interested

But yeah, i do agree that maybe he pushed it more then he needed to, but it wasn't anything bad, he was subtle about it and just really trying a shot but to shy to actually make a move. Plus as furter down her descent, he actually stops asking, and is genuinely concerned for her well being and wanting to help but not knowing what to do since he's never seen something like this. Plus it seemed like he didn't wanna push her to talk when she didn't want to

It was still quite unnecessary for him to further insist. But hey, you can be kinda dense when you like someone >_>

Now him reporting her. Through a discussion i had with a mutual about Luis, it seems like they were already somewhat aquatinted with each other. I'd presume they considered each other close mutuals, but not friends.

And in my experience, that would make it so you kinda just, justify said persons actions, as you are not close enough to know everything, but close enough to kinda build an explanation as to why they are acting weird

Cuz as per Luis, if he did he would probably not see her anymore bc she will be moved out, and she has been working hard for her position, and sure maybe bc he liked her. But even if he didn't, it be the same light if they were friends, which seems to be a close case for them as well. As humans, or just genuinel living creatures, we can be quite selfish and be it friends or a crush, you wouldn't want to have them leave your side (and from what I've gathered they are in the same department, being able to pass by each other's work stations)

Was it still wrong of him? Oh yes definitely, but like i said, there is more sides then one to a story. It doesn't make him a bad person, but just a human being with a bias and the benefit of the doubt

And yeah, idealisticly, if you love someone dearly, you wouldn't bury your head in the sand. But unfortunately, that isn't always the case. I deeply care for my sister, love her more then ANYTHING (and dont you dare say anything otherwise💢💢), but I'll be lying if i say i sometimes i wouldn't do that if i didn't know better

In which in this case he didn't. He mentioned to be an isolated kid, he doesn't know social cues as well (which is something I've experienced with my sister, and hell even myself), so with that, he wouldn't fully acknowledge it. It is human of him to be like that. Not right sure, but since when was it human to always be right?

And i will add that, we dont fully know how their relationship was, we just know they talked with each other. And by how Vanessa is about Luis in the CDs, they seem closer to each other then with the other workers

Also, i kinda feel bad for the typing "help" part, as i, a complete dense human being, wouldn't have imitatedly picked up on it either. Bc i am dumb, and even as when i first read the email, i didn't pick up on that part until you pointed it out💀💀

And for that i deeply apologise, but also yeah- gives me the reason to say it wasn't so unrealistic for him to be this dense

And i agree, i can see this seems to come from your bias of Vanessa. And it's completely understandable- you're in your rights to dislike Luis. As much as any victim is to dislike what happened to them and the people around them who inevitably caused the problem

It's probably also something i might explore on my story ;)

And the lesson is correct, it's a matter of actually acknowledging the issue your loved one has and do something about it. But unfortunately that is not something everyone does, even of they and I'm sure afterwards the guilt lingers.

But in a general summary. Your feelings towards him are valid, and i can understand your point of view on this. But that's exactly what i like about his character

I dont defend his actions, i simply give an explanation to them and a view to this different side

#ok this was a long rant😅#but i did mentioned it be a long one lol #but yeah this is my general view of the whole story even outside Luis #or well as much as i can share without major spoilers to my comic💀💀#also I'm sorry if this possibility sounds in anyway condensending or mean #or belittling you #that is NOT my intention at all😣😣#i just kinda wanted to use this as an excuse to delve deeper into my perspective of things and my experience throughout #the whole Vanessa debate #and hell i STILL didn't share everything i wanted to share #bc again spoilers #which is the bain of my existence #ask box #cakes ask #cake talks #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #security breach #fnaf luis #fnaf luis cabrera #luis cabrera #fnaf vaness #fnaf vanny #fnaf gregory #fnaf freddy #fnaf glamrock freddy #glamrock freddy #analysis #fnaf analysis

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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

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Never Meant To Be Yours

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Wilbur Soot’s heart may belong to you, but yours? Well...

Warnings: some cursing (hi, Tommy) + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: i realized that i hadn’t written a story that was strictly just angst, so... ta-da! this story takes place during the betrayal of l’manberg. inspired by both the events of the smp and also heathers: the musical. remember folks: pog through the pain <3

The campfire crackled and popped as Wilbur tossed another stick into the roaring flames, the embers leaping up and soaring into the starry night sky. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as Tommy opened his mouth again.

“I’m fucking telling you, Wilbur. Just let me sharpen some sticks and I can win this war for L’Ma—”

Wilbur sighed, reaching over to rip the two branches from Tommy’s hands. “Tommy, if you pick up another set of sticks one more time, I will throw your discs into the fire.”

Tommy gasped, absolutely appalled that he would even suggest it. “Big man, you wouldn’t fucking dare—”

“No,” Tubbo said, smiling as he threw some more kindle into the fire, “I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Oh, he definitely would,” Fundy confirmed, his tail swishing this way and that as he looked on in amusement.

Tommy frowned, snatching another stick from the firewood pile and turning to glare at Wilbur from where he sat on his log. “Fucking fight me for them, you beanie bitch.”

Wilbur stared back, unimpressed and his patience wearing thin. “Tommy,” he said, “I’m not doing this, again.”

“Oh? Are you scared of my sharpness 1000 sti—”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, Wilbur grabbed Tommy by his arms and hoisted him into the air, his feet dangling dangerously close to the campfire. Fundy hooted as Tommy let out a piercing scream, Tubbo watching with wide eyes and a grin on his face as the flames licked at the soles of his shoes. “I swear to fucking god, Tommy,” Wilbur nearly shouted, “I am going to drop you into the fi—”

“You lot seem like you’re having fun.”

Wilbur froze, Tommy practically melting in his arms in relief. “Thank the lord, I’m saved,” he muttered.

You walked over to the group with a small wave and a bashful grin. In an instant, Wilbur had released Tommy, dropping him back onto the log as he walked over to you. The irritation seeped out of his bones as he took in the sight of your face, your eyes glowing in the golden light of the campfire.

“You’re finally here,” he said, leaning over to press a quick peck to your cheek before sitting once more.

You giggled, settling into the space next to him. “Hi.”

Beside you, Tommy made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ, you guys are actually fucking gross. I would never do some shit like that.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “But Tommy,” you pointed out, “I thought you loved women. Don’t you want to date one, one day?”

“I do love women!” Tommy confirmed. “And I respect them! But you know me, [Y/N].” He patted his chest, smirking with pride. “I’m married to the grind.”

You tilted your head at him, bemused. “Are you, now?”

He nodded with full confidence. “Of course I am!”

“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding?”

Tommy shot you a condescending look. “The grind and I have been married far longer than you and Wilbur have even been together—hell, I’d say we’re a better fucking couple than you two!”

You feigned a gasp and turned to your lover with a dramatic pout. “Hey, Will? Do you hear that? Tommy says his marriage to the grind is better than our relationship.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, blinking, then shrugged. “Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Confusion flashed across Tommy’s face. “How?”

Wilbur stood up and turned to look at you, a serious expression crossing his face. “I suppose we’ll just have to get married.”

You felt your jaw drop, a wave of shock running through you as Tommy sputtered, “Pfft—what the fuck?”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Will,” you said, “getting married in the middle of a war doesn’t exactly sound like the best idea you’ve had.”

“But Wilbur never has good ide—”

“Well,” Wilbur said, cutting Tommy off, “how else are we going to beat Tommy and the grind?”

You cocked a brow at him. “Are you implying that are relationship isn’t already stronger than Tommy’s with the grind? That we have to prove it?”

Now it was Wilbur’s turn to sputter. “No, uh, I’m just, um—”

“Will,” you said again, “you realize you have a son that we both care for, right?”

Wilbur paused. “Oh. Right.”

You could see Fundy groan from the other side of the campfire, hanging his head in his hands. “Jeez, thanks, dad.”

Wilbur flashed his son a bright grin. “You’re welcome, son.” He whirled, triumphantly pointing at Tommy’s face. “See? Do you and the grind have a physical representation of your love in the form of another living being?”

Tommy’s face contorted in disgust. “Wilbur, what the fuck, no. I’m a fucking minor.”

The smile dropped from Wilbur’s face like a dead fly. “Oh. Right.”

Tubbo let out a whistle, raising his fist in the air. “Aaand, scene! That’s a point for Tommy!” He shook his head apologetically at the general. “Sorry, Wilbur, but you lose.”

Wilbur looked offended. “How did I lose? [Y/N] and I have a Fundy!”

Tubbo’s expression shifted to something more serious. “Didn’t you know that I’m a lawyer, Wilbur? You don’t mess with the law.”

Fundy let out another groan as Tommy howled in delight. “Oh, no.”

“Big Law is back!”

It didn’t take long for the bickering to start up again, and you found yourself zoning out, simply smiling and nodding every once in a while. A lone crow squawked in the trees above you, and you cast your gaze up at the night sky, watching as the campfire sparks danced and faded into the shadows above. Something stirred deep within your chest.

It really was a lovely night, and you were surrounded by some lovely people, even if they were rather chaotic. With the campfire keeping you warm and their peals of laughter tugging at your lips, you almost felt sad.

Only a few more days remained of this idyllic life. Just a few days more until—

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Wilbur’s worried voice drew you out of your thoughts and you turned to face him, plastering a small smile to your face. “Yep! Just thinking.”

He leaned down to peer closer at you, his gaze scanning your face. “What about?”

You averted your eyes from his, your cheeks dancing with warmth. “About you.”

He grinned and pulled you into his chest, ignoring the way Tommy pretended to choke at the sight. You giggled, your hands wrapped around Wilbur’s arm in return as he held you close.

High above you, the stars winked down at you from the pitch black sky, waiting and watching to see what came next.

Wilbur sighed, staring down at the map on his desk.

Just how was he going to stage an attack on a nation as large as the Dream SMP? Every opening would have been accounted for, and Dream was not a foe to be taken lightly. Even if all of them came in, bows blazing and swords drawn, Dream was still very much capable of taking them on, even by himself. That, he knew, and that was what weighed him down.

He slumped over, dragging a hand over his face. What in the world was he going to do?

A knock sounded at his door, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Knock knock,” you greeted, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “You doing alright in there?”

Wilbur offered you a tired smile. “Not really, if I’m being honest.”

You stepped inside, slipping into the seat next to his. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

He sighed. “It—It’s just that the odds are so incredibly stacked against us.” His eyes were sad as he stared blankly down at the parchment. “It makes me wonder, is freedom even attainable, or is it just another one of my silly pipe dreams?”

You frowned, reaching over to stroke his face with the back of your hand. “Freedom is more than just a dream, Will. You know that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “Fundy is living proof of that. Your son is living proof of that. He was born in these walls, remember?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “He was born free.”

You pulled away from him, sending him a sugary grin. “We can become free, Will. I know you can do it. You’re not alone. You have me. You have us.”

His smiled crookedly at you. “Even Tommy?”

The look in your eyes was kind as you giggled. “Yes, even Tommy. I’m sure of it. Why else would you have made him your right hand man?”

He chuckled, turning his attention away from the map and onto you. “You’re right. You always know how to make me feel better, [Y/N].”

You offered him a small smile. “I try my best.”

The two of you set into a comfortable silence for a moment or two with you watching Wilbur strategically move pieces across the map while he jotted down notes on a slip of paper. It was only after a few minutes had passed when you spoke up once more.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over his ink well to slip your hand in his, “I want to show you something that’ll make you feel even better.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hand freezing on its quill. “Oh?”

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. “I’ve been working on it for a little while, and I really think it’ll help us win that freedom of ours.”

He smiled at you, his gaze fond as he stood, setting his quill on the table. “Let me gather the men and I’ll be right there.”

It only took him a few minutes for him to rally everyone together, although he did have to silence Tommy when he let loose a string of curses yelling about his dedication to the grind. In practically no time, the whole battalion stood in front of you, eager to see what you had in store.

“Alright,” Wilbur said, bowing towards you, “lead the way.”

You grinned, jokingly curtsying back before turning on you heel, a skip lining your step as you strode toward a small tree sitting near the edge of the walls. “If you come down here,” you began, sliding down the side of the hill to point behind the tree, “you’ll see that there’s actually a small entranceway here.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened in surprise. There really was a hole in the hill dug out just here. He wondered just when you made it. “How the fuck did you keep this hidden from us?” Tommy muttered, squinting as you led them inside. “You didn’t even try to hide the fucking door.”

You shrugged, still strolling comfortably. “It was pretty out of the way and it faces the wall itself, so you weren’t likely to spot it, anyways. I didn’t really think it was necessary.”

The walls were dark and dank, lit up only be the occasional torch, but even then it was still dim. “This is a long tunnel,” Tubbo murmured after they had been walking for a minute or two, his head swiveling this way and that as he took in his surroundings.

You laughed. “Well, this place was pretty well-hidden, if I do say so myself.” Suddenly, you stopped, turning to look at the rest of the group. “Well, lads, here it is.”

You stepped in and to the side, and Wilbur gasped.

Lying just within the hill was a grand room. Every surface was made of smooth, polished, black bricks, and pale blue lanterns hung from each corner of the room, emitting a faint light that painted the room in an enchanting glow. Chests lined the walls, and in the center of the room sat a single button atop a panel.

Wilbur was floored—he had no idea when you had built all this.

“What is this place?” Fundy asked, his dark eyes wide with awe.

You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin as you strode to the middle of the room. “Well, I guess you could call it a secret base, but I’ve been calling it the final control room.” Something glinted in your eyes. “I spent a lot of time gathering resources and forging weaponry that we can use to fight.” You pointed at each labelled box with delight. “Look—you each have your own chest!”

Wilbur felt his heart swell with pride. Just when he didn’t think you could be any more perfect, you just had to shatter his expectations.

Everyone split apart, each rushing toward their respective chest with anticipation thrumming in their fingertips. Wilbur grinned as he reached his, unlatching the clasp on the front and flipping the lid open to reveal... nothing.

There wasn’t anything in the chest.

Uneasiness seeped into his stomach.

“[Y/N],” he said slowly, turning to look at you, “these chests are empty.”

You still stood in the center of the room, sending him that same sweet smile you always did.

“I know,” you said, lifting your hand to hover over the singular button lying on the control panel.

Something like terror struck his heart.

“[Y/N]?” he whispered.

It was only then that he noticed how cold your eyes were.

“It was never meant to be.”

What came next happened so quickly that Wilbur almost didn’t process it. He watched as your hand slammed down on the button, and a hole in the wall opened up to reveal the Dream SMP, their swords unsheathed and armour polished to shining. Screams rang out all around him, echoing in the tiny chamber of the so-called final control room. He could only watch in horror as his men were slaughtered at his side until a sword pierced his chest as well.

With a pained gasp, he looked up to you as he fell back, disbelief and the pure, utter pain of betrayal sinking into his veins while he coughed for air.

You still wore that saccharine smile of yours, the one he had fallen for long, long ago. Something menacing shone in your eyes.

He wondered how you could still be smiling at a time like this as his world went dark.

Wilbur awoke with a gasp, lurching forward with wide eyes. Panting, his hand flew to his chest, grasping at where he was just stabbed—or had been stabbed. His shoulders sank in relief as his fingertips met unmarred skin and the softness of his shirt, a sigh escaping his lips.

Coming back after death never really got any easier after the first time. He could only wonder what Tommy and Tubbo were going through—they were so young.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Wilbur’s head shot to the side, his eyes briefly noting the fact that he was indeed lying on the bed in his room. On the opposite side of the room, you sat on a wooden chair, a book clutched between your fingertips. Something warm flitted through his chest as his eyes met yours, and he almost felt glad to see you.

Almost.

“What are you doing here?” he spat, a cruelty he had never felt for you before brewing within his gut. “Why are you even here?”

You blinked innocently at him, shutting the book in your hands and setting it on the table next to you. It was the declaration of independence, he noted with disgust. He felt sick knowing that you held it in yours hands, that you even signed it at all.

“I’m keeping you company,” you said casually, as if nothing had happened at all, as if you hadn’t just gotten him killed. “I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Rage ripped through him, roaring through him like a wildfire. With shoulders shaking with agony, he tore the sheets from off his legs. “‘Didn’t want me to be lonely’?” he parroted mockingly as he stood to his full height. His glare was as cold as ice. “Is this some sick joke to you?”

You tilted your head at him, your mouth remaining a straight line—hard and firm. “Not particularly, no.”

That was when it hit him—when everything came crashing into him all at once.

You had sold them out.

You had abandoned them.

Did you mean anything you ever said to him? Did you ever really love him? Were your kisses ever real? Did his love really mean nothing to you?

“[Y/N],” he breathed, horror wracking his every word, “what have you done?”

You stared at him, your expression blank and unreadable—an impenetrable wall standing between him and your psyche. He hated it. He hated how unreadable you were in this moment, and his anger older burned brighter.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice growing louder and louder. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, pushing it away from his soot-stained face. “We were going to get married. We—we were going to start a new life together. With Tommy, and Tubbo. Niki. Fundy, my son.” His eyes flashed. “Our son. Whatever happened to that?”

He sank to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired. The fire burned out, and an indescribable sense of sadness flowed in instead, flooding every inch of his being. He felt his eyes begin to water as you simply stared down at him, unfeeling and harsh. His voice cracked.

“[Y/N], why?”

There was no denying what you had done. He had seen it with his own two eyes, had watched a wicked glint creep into your gaze as you pressed the button and vanished.

You were a traitor, through and through, yet he still could not fathom why.

Suddenly, you took a stood, taking a slow and deliberate step toward him. Wilbur’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw you draw closer and closer, his heart pounding in his ears. Even after all that you’d done, after you’d betrayed him, his heart still yearned for you—still ached for you.

Just a step before you reached him, you stopped, crouching down to be level with him. For a moment, you simply stared at him with those eyes—those eyes he loved so, so much. Then, you opened your mouth.

“Wilbur,” you murmured, soft enough only for him to hear. “Oh, my darling, lovely Wilbur.”

Your voice was sickly sweet, dripping like honey that stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, the tiniest flicker of hope igniting in his heart. Perhaps this was all just some big misunderstanding, some prank that you were pulling on him—you always did love your mischief.

You smiled at him, the glimmer in your eyes wicked and unkind as you stood up. The sun hung just behind you in the sky, framing your face in a heavenly glow.

In another life, you would have looked like an angel.

“I was never meant to be yours.”

His heart shattered.

The tears were now freely streaming down his cheeks, running down like tiny rivers. He half-hoped that he would drown in them, that he would never have to see your beautifully wretched face again for as long as he lived.

Bending over, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, pulling away just a second later after gently patting his head. The spot where your lips met his skin burned, and he hated himself for wishing you would stay.

You strode over to the door, swinging it open with one last glance over your shoulder and an empty half-smile. “Goodbye, Will.”

The door closed. Wilbur stared at the solid oak wood, feeling an abyss open up inside him.

Gone—you were gone.

And he was left alone.

So much for getting married.

“Was it worth it?”

You stopped swinging your legs from the gold throne you sat upon and cast a glance up at Dream, his green eyes boring into you from where he was perched on the chandelier. How he got up there, you still had no idea.

“Was what worth it?” you asked, examining a diamond between your fingers.

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the castle surrounding the two of you. “This life. Your new title. You gave up so much for them, after all.” He began counting off on his fingers, his lips quirking. “You faked a relationship with Wilbur, pretended to love his son, befriended that brat, Tommy, and then blew it all to smithereens for the crown on your head.”

His gaze flickered back to yours. “Well?” he said again. “Was it worth it?”

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression pensive.

You thought of soft, brown curls tickling against your face as you awoke on the couch. You thought of fluttering laughter and bashful giggles. You thought of a pearly white grin flashing at you from the other side of the campfire. You thought of an old acoustic guitar that was almost always just a little out of tune. You thought of gentle kisses pressed to hands, cheeks, necks, and mouths.

You thought of Wilbur Soot.

And you smiled and felt nothing.

“Yes.”

821 notes · View notes

libermachinae · 4 years ago

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[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise 29. Prowl, in profile, looks to the right. Prowl: “I lost my best friend, Prime. Megatron stood at his side and only one of them walked away.” End ID.]

I’ve never stopped thinking about this line, so! What the fuck is up with Prowl and Bumblebee’s relationship? (Spoiler alert: I do not think Bee is another ex 😔)

They first met millions of years ago when Bumblebee went to Orion Pax for help regarding horrible dream he’d been having, and from there remained in each other’s orbits, though not really friends.

[ID: From Robots in Disguise #32. Prowl and Bumblebee stand with their backs to the reader, watching Metroplex lift off in city form while a battle rages in the sky around him. Bumblebee: “Nobody said war’s logical, bud.” Prowl: “That’s my point. We’re going to do stupid things until we die.” Bumblebee: “Primus, Prowl. Lighten up. We’re not like the Decepticons!” End ID.]

During the war, they got along fine, but in the one snapshot we see there’s not a lot of friendliness between them: Prowl is talking about the futility of their war and Bumblebee happens to be someone nearby. There’s a familiarity to the way they talk to each other (I doubt many people would bother or could get away with calling Prowl “bud”), but it’s more like coworkers who have been stepping on each other’s toes for a long time than real friends. The conversation begins and ends with Prowl’s internal monologue, while Bumblebee’s perspective is just a device used to draw out more of Prowl’s thoughts. Little is shown of their relationship because at this point, it just isn’t there.

[ID: Screenshot from The Transformers #21. Optimus stands with his back to the reader in the foreground, with Bumblebee and Prowl in the Background. Prowl’s caption: “That’s when Prime filled in the ‘Bee. He took it better than I expected. Smart questions. No whining. Focused the anger. He’s going to be a great leader one day. If he gets the chance.” End ID.]

(”the ‘Bee” lol Costa’s Prowl is a specimen) Half a million years later, they’re on Earth, Bumblebee has been elected and then demoted, and Optimus is leaving with most of the Autobots while assigning them to investigate the illegal weapons trade. Prowl has thoughts on Bumblebee’s leadership, which will be the ongoing theme of their relationship for the rest of the series. In typical Prowl fashion, he will never speak these particular thoughts aloud. (continues under the cut!)

[ID: Screenshots from Spotlight: Bumblebee. Panel 1: Bumblebee points offpanel with his cane and at himself with his thumb. Bumblebee: “No, wait, hang on, Prowl—I’m in charge here.” Panel 2: Prowl points a stern finger at Bumblebee, offpanel. Prowl: “What? Come on. This isn’t about being in charge, it’s about being right.” Panel 3: Prowl, flanked by two other Autobots, walks away from Bumblebee. Prowl: “’I’m in charge.’ Optimus Prime would never put up with that kind of procedural nonsense.” End ID.]

Spotlight: Bumblebee is basically a story about Bumblebee trying to impress Prowl. It opens by showing us how little respect Prowl holds for Bumblebee, ignoring his orders and taking bots he had already assigned to different tasks. We already know that Prowl is no Optimus fan, making the dig at Bumblebee extra cutting. It also doesn’t hurt that Bumblebee’s whole story so far has been about trying to live up to Optimus, Prowl’s words coming as long-anticipated confirmation that he has failed to do so.

[ID: Screenshot from Spotlight: Bumblebee. Prowl smiles. “Means the little guy’s got more spark than I gave him credit for, these last couple million years. Taking down five bad guys on his own— and blaming himself for not stopping a hundred more? And then coming home and taking control?” End ID.]

“That’s what Prime would do.”

Recklessly endangering himself for the sake of taking down a few “bad guys”? Yeah, that actually sounds exactly like Optimus.

Bumblebee proves himself taking command and earns a little respect from Prowl, even finding the confidence to bite back for Prowl’s “procedural nonsense” comment. It marks a big shift in their relationship, and by the time they’re back on Cybertron in time for Death of Optimus Prime, they’re working together by choice rather than decree. If we’re looking for a point where they become friends, I think this is it, a whole three years before the “best friend” panel above. All it took was a “couple million years” of just tolerating each other.

And this takes us into Phase 2!

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Bumblebee waves a cellphone-like device in Prowl’s face. Prowl: “They’re not my friends.” Bumblebee: “Whatever they are—you keep them in line or I will. You understand?” End ID.]

And also into an ongoing conversation about friendship!

The pair is back on Cybertron following the events of Death of Optimus Prime and trying to figure out how to bring order to their home, and immediately disagree about the best way to do that. Bumblebee refers to the newly deputized Decepticon enforcers as Prowl’s “friends,” using the word to highlight the unprofessional, independent nature of what is essentially Prowl’s personal anti-neutral militia.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Bumblebee: “Rodimus and his crew died. They were our friends—we can’t—can’t not eulogize them.” Prowl: “They were my comrades—dammit, my friends, too.” End ID.]

This leads into a conversation about the recently-departed Lost Light, for which Bumblebee thinks a memorial should be held. This time, when the word “friend” is used, it’s more sincere. Bumblebee also doesn’t say “my friends”—he extends an invitation that Prowl accepts, albeit clumsily.

Does he mean it, though? Prowl is not so socially bankrupt to not understand how friendships are supposed to look. Even if we dismiss his attitude to the Lost Light as general Prowlishness, this scene is followed by a conversation with Arcee in which he says he doesn’t trust anyone, which is a pretty major hurtle to get over. It’s not a stretch to assume Prowl is lying.

He never makes a move like that without a purpose, though. By referring to the Lost Light crew as his friends, he gets Bumblebee to relax and see things from his own perspective, giving him an opportunity to talk about the more pressing security issues they are facing. This, in fact, is Prowl’s go-to strategy: identify the person in power and get close to them, thereby giving him the ability to watch over how that power is wielded.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Prowl speaks to Bumblebee over his shoulder. Prowl: “Look. every day, I watch the sun go down and wonder if we can make it another night without them. If I even want to.” Bumblebee: “Huh. I mean, yeah. Me, too.” Prowl: “I’m not emotionless, Bee. I care about Rodimus and Magnus and the rest as much as you do. But look at the situation logically.” End ID.]

That said, I don’t think Prowl is lying here. Despite how warped his worldview becomes, I do believe that at his core, Prowl wants what is best for Cybertronians (well, Autobots). Many of his darker plans were created with the intention to keep people alive, so regardless of his personal feelings to them, he is not “emotionless” and does feel something over their deaths.

[ID: First screenshot from Robots in Disguise #2. Bumblebee smirks at Prowl, holding up his electrocuting cane. Bumblebee: “Heh—same old Prowl. Wheeljack whipped it up the other day.” Prowl: I’ve got to have a talk with Wheeljack.” Second and third screenshots from Robots in Disguise #3. Panel 1: Bumblebee frowns at Prowl. “Enough! Prowl—shut up. Metalhawk has a point.” Panel 2: Prowl looks furious. Bumblebee is holding him back from lunging at someone off-panel. Prowl: “Bad move…” Bumblebee: “Down, Prowl.” End ID.]

I don’t have much to say about these scenes, except that I like them as an illustration of their dynamic in this part of the story. Cold, confrontational, and yet with a degree of familiarity I would’ve thought more fitting to a much older connection. I really can’t imagine the Prowl from half a million years ago, talking at Bumblebee about the folly of their commander, allowing himself to be held back and calmly talked down. Through their work together, something is developing that we might almost mistake for genuine friendship.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #4. Arcee: “Come on. I know you didn’t destroy it. You’re not that hard. But you are cold and calculating. Enough that even Bumblebee—even your only friend—thinks you might’ve.” Arcee: “Bee won’t say it. But you know that’s what he’s thinking.” Prowl: “It doesn’t bother me. Bee doubts everything. Even himself.” End ID.]

“Even Bee—even your only friend—thinks you might’ve.”

“Bee doubts everything. Even himself.”

The same phrase is used twice in the conversation to distinguish Bumblebee as an outlier (not the superpower kind, though maybe his ability to tolerate the Worst People should be considered). For Arcee, it’s in his proximity to Prowl. Prowl’s use of the phrase is a little more ambiguous, though. Is he saying that one should have faith in oneself if nothing else? It definitely fits in his worldview. Or is he saying Bumblebee is worthy of being trusted, believed in?

If so, what does that mean? Bumblebee would take Prowl’s endorsement as faith in his abilities as a leader, but we already know Prowl doesn’t view leadership that way. He needs to get an Autobot elected, and Bumblebee specifically, because he needs someone in power he can get close to and control. Bumblebee’s leadership, though perhaps not Bumblebee himself, offers Cybertron a path towards peace. So, actually, Arcee and Prowl mean the same thing: Bumblebee is special because he’s the person Prowl is closest to.

This is also the first indication we get that Bumblebee does not trust Prowl so fully as Prowl wants. As sneaky as Prowl is, it’s easy to forget sometimes that Bumblebee is his own agent with his own ability to measure the facts. He wants to trust Prowl, but that doesn’t blind him to Prowl’s reputation.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #5. Ironhide and Prowl cluster around Bumblebee, who looks contemplative. Prowl: “Think about what they’re say about you in the future, Bee! The Autobot that let the Decepticons go free?!” Ironhide: “He’s right—a little. Think about what the future can be. Cybertron’s our world,and tomorrow’s our day…” End ID.]

We get to see more of Bumblebee soon after, since Prowl gets cerebroshelled. Bomb-Prowl is much more ruthless than the genuine article, expressing little care for the lives of any Cybertronians, but nobody notices it around Prowl’s standard prickly persona. Bumblebee experiences growing unease with Bomb-Prowl’s methods, though interestingly does not dismiss him for it. Consider the above scene: a fight has just broken out. To resolve it, Ironhide, Starscream, and Ironhide recommend removing the Decepticons’ ID chips. Prowl is the sole voice of dissent, and Bumblebee chooses to ignore him while also maintaining their partnership.

Bumblebee can think for himself and say no to Prowl. This situation is not just Prowl manipulating and taking advantage of Bumblebee: the latter is fully capable of making his own decisions.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #11. Bumblebee stands on the left and Prowl on the right. Bumblebee: “Am I wearing blinders because you’re my friend? Are you even my friend?” End ID.]

When Omega Supreme is attacked, Bomb-Prowl accuses the Decepticons, opening himself up for scrutiny: Metalhawk accuses him of killing Ratbat. Bumblebee starts to express his doubts openly and he questions not only Prowl’s innocence, but their relationship altogether. (Also, though literally Bumblebee is asking, “Can I consider you, Prowl, a friend?” his question can also be read as, “Are you who you say you are?”)

Bumblebee’s question doesn’t imply he trusts Prowl. He doesn’t even trust himself: he’s wondering if their friendship has installed in him an implicit bias in Prowl’s favor. There is a possibility his feelings regarding Prowl are strong enough to warp his perception of reality, and he’s worried that he can’t see what's obvious to everyone else. In contrast to previous leaders Prowl has watched over, Bumblebee is aware of his ability and willingness to manipulate those around him. He’s not under any illusion that Prowl is honest with him all the time, but he also isn’t confident enough in himself to remove Prowl’s influence.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #11. Bumblebee: “Then I want to get back to finding Ironhide and the others, because he’s my friend and friends look out for each other.” End ID.]

There is also the matter that he does consider Prowl a friend. Not a good friend (as in caring, respectful, thoughtful), but nevertheless one he does not want to lose.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #14. Panel 1: Bumblebee shoves Metalhawk aside and reaches for Prowl, who is collapsing to the floor. Bumblebee: “Prowl—I—” Panel 2: Prowl lies on the floor. Prowl: “Bee… it wasn’t… wasn’t me… How could you not… see that?” End ID.]

I think the feeling is mutual. Prowl’s not angry at Bumblebee for falling for the Decepticons’ trap.

He’s hurt that his friend didn’t notice he was gone.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #16. Ironhide helps Prowl up. Prowl: “…I’m me.” Ironhide: “Got too much of an ego ta be anybody else.” Prowl: “I—I needed to hear—” Bumblebee (off-panel): “Later, Prowl…” End ID.]

Their relationship starts to go downhill from here. After breaking free from Devastator, Prowl actually tries to talk about his feelings, and Bumblebee dismisses him. To be fair, there are other things going on that need their attention, but Prowl is never given an opportunity to process what he has been through. Bumblebee, who excels at talking to people and helping them through their problems, never offers a space for Prowl to open up about his experience, and it’s the internalization of his trauma that leads to Prowl’s emotional degeneration through the rest of the series.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Panel 1: Bumblebee hunches over his cane, struggling to stand. Bumblebee: “It’s *kaff*… Well, I don’t want to know *kaff kaff* what’s going on in his mind, but… Prowl didn’t do any of the *koff* terrible stuff.” Panel 2: Bumblebee stands in front of Prowl, facing the reader. Bumblebee: “He was *kaff* being controlled by Bombshell. I mean obviously he didn’t *koff* kill you guys—he didn’t blow up the Decepticon pen. He *kaff kaff* wasn’t running a secret war. He didn’t *koff* have Ratbat eliminated.” End ID.]

I don’t think Bumblebee is being intentionally malicious, though. Consider all the times Prowl has had to say outright that he feels things and has emotions: I think it’s more accurate to say Bumblebee didn’t believe him. The doubts he felt about Prowl were never with regard to his intentions, but rather the way he interacted with and understood the world around him. Bumblebee, going by the reputation Prowl made for himself, doesn’t believe Prowl processes events the same way he does, and as a result falsely assume that his mind control and forced combination will have no greater impact on Prowl.

And then even Bumblebee’s faith in Prowl’s intentions is shaken when Arcee reveals he did call for Ratbat’s assassination. Bumblebee is so betrayed he passes out.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Panel 1: Ironhide grins to the side while Bumblebee holds a fist to his mouth, coughing. Ironhide: “Aw. An’ everything was goin’ so well…” Bumblebee: “Prowl. Why—what—*kof kofff* *koff kaf*” Panel 2: Bumblebee’s hand reaches up as he collapses. Bumblebee: “*kaf kaf* Nnnggggh…” End ID.]

The next time they interact is in Dark Cybertron. Getting close to the end, here!

[ID: First screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #23. Bumblebee points his gun up to the off-panel Titan. Prowl stands beside him. Bumblebee: “What?!” Prowl: “You talked a good game with the Dinobots. But you need to act, too. When you were in charge of the city, you were paralyzed.” Second screenshot from Robots in Disguise #23. Panel 1: Prowl, yelling: “You’re hesitating again! Look at us! We’re teaming up with the enemy and letting Starscream do whatever he wants?!” Panel 2: Bumblebee, with a steadying hand out, stands in front of Soundwave. Bumblebee: “Prowl, shut up for once. All your attitude ever got us was… was the Constructicons.” Soundwave: “The Constructicons stand with you?” Bumblebee: “Long story, Soundwave. And this isn’t a team up. We just happen to have the same objective.” Panel 3: Prowl points at Soundwave. “Then do something! Don’t just let this—this—Decepticon control you!” End ID. Third screenshot from Robots in Disguise #23. Prowl holds up a struggling Arcee while yelling at Bumblebee. Prowl: “You let this happen, Bee! We attack now!” Bumblebee: “Prowl, get your priorities in order—” End ID.]

Evidence of Prowl’s trauma starts to become more visible. The comradery they shared before is gone; Prowl’s methodical approach to problems is gone. Instead, he is scared and impulsive, and he takes out his new anxieties on his “only friend” because Bee is the one thing he’s supposed to be able to control.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #26. Panel 1: Bumblebee and Prowl stand amidst flaming wreckage. Hound (off-panel): “Where’s Megatron?” Bumblebee: “He’s… I think he’s gone. He took the thumb and ran.” Prowl: “Dammit. You should have never done back for him, Bee.” Panel 2: Bumblebee grabs Prowl’s neck. Bumblebee: “Prowl, you smug piece of—” Prowl: “Uk!” Panel 3: Bumblebee releases Prowl. Bumblebee: “I’ve had enough of your self-righteous second-guessing…” End ID.”

But he can’t. Bumblebee has gotten used to ignoring Prowl or refuting him. Add to that Prowl’s heightened emotional state, and Bumblebee responds to his criticism with open aggression. Stuck in crisis mode like they are, there is no way for them to reset and calm down until the Titan is finally taken down and everything comes to a standstill for a moment.

[ID: Screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #27. Prowl leans close to Bumblebee, gesturing to his head. The Constructicons linger in the background. Bumblebee: “Oh, good. I was hoping your friends would could out of hiding.” Prowl: “They weren’t—I mean, they’re not—They just shared my memories. The Decepticons exploited my—my—my head!” End ID.]

And with this, we cycle back to their first conversation in Robots in Disguise. Before, Bumblebee used the word “friends” to criticize Prowl’s Decepticon enforcers and the freedom they were granted to terrorize the neutrals. Prowl, known to circumvent the chain of command, decided to forgo it almost entirely in that case, creating a violent, lawless group that did not fit into the military structure the Autobots still relied on.

Now, he uses “friend” to refer to the enthusiasm the Constructicons have for Prowl. Prowl’s deceit has been brought into the open, legitimizing Bumblebee’s fears and forcing him to question all over again his role as a leader. The doubts he had in himself and Prowl are tied together, so that even with the knowledge that everything that happened to Prowl was out of his control, he still feels threatened by the Decepticon presence Prowl now carries with him.

And even though he’s met with this kind of hostility, Prowl still comes back to Bumblebee to continue work as his advisor. He’s got a group of bots literally right there who trust him and support him without reservation, but he chooses Bumblebee because he still believes in their power to do right by Cybertron.

[ID: Screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #27. Prowl stands on the left, Bumblebee on the right. Prowl: “Bee—we stopped his plan, but Shockwave is still out there.” Bumblebee: I know, and you’re totally right, and anything less than a perfect attack plan and we’re sunk—so I need you to come up with one. In the meantime—mingle. There has to be somebody you want to say ‘hi’ to.” Prowl: “Actually…” End ID.]

This is the last time they talk to each other. Prowl reminds him of the impending danger, Bumblebee is grateful for his expertise, and then he encourages Prowl to go relax. There’s something to be said for the fact that upon leaving Bumblebee’s side, Prowl immediately seeks out his ex, but I think it’s mainly just that he’s lonely rather than anything nefarious. He’s lonely, and despite their distrust and criticism and generally poor treatment of each other, Bumblebee is someone who accepts his company, a rare thing that’s he’s going to lose very soon.

When I first read the words “best friend,” I assumed Prowl was lying. I also assumed, even if that was true, it would not hold in the reverse. I think I’ve changed my mind on both counts. Prowl didn’t pursue Bumblebee with genuine intentions, but they both ended up getting something out of it. It’s not a healthy relationship, but at a tumultuous time in their lives it might literally be the best they can do and in their own ways, they trust they’re going to look out for each other.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Bumblebee, with his cane, leans on Prowl as they leave the ruins of Iacon. Their plating bears obvious damage, and ash and dust float through the air around them. End ID.]

#maccadam #transformers #prowl #bumblebee #idw #meta #thoughts #i gotta rewrite sparklight #next project after solenoid and fault lines

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

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Only Time Makes It Human 3

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: hi and sorry for the long wait, I had to squish my brain real hard to get this chapter out, but I hope you like it, I decided a chapter about growth wasn't enough and y'all gave me an idea for angst so I just splashed it there and we'll delve into it more on the next chapter. 10/10 the idea works well enough for me to bring Levi and reader together even more. So don't call me out on being random. This is raw, un fucking edited, I'll edit later 💗

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: modern au, college au

Warnings: mentions of blood

Special kudos if you figure out why I used this gif ;)

The problem with your feet being numb in the morning when you woke up wasn't supposed to phase you as much as it currently did, but the weathering cold that had barged its way to your room silently begged to have you feel something other than the everlasting whirlpool of regret.

Which was -unsurpisingly- something you had been spiraling into a lot lately.

Your ringtone -or rather the caller that had caused it to go off- nontheless remained mercilessly unforgiving to your current condition. The brute vibrations that accompanied your once favorite song ripped through the air and bounced on every wall inside your room before it wooshed inside your eardrums.

You fucking finally had to change that ringtone, you thought.

Your feet, moist and heavy as they buzzed with the aftermath of the coma-like sleep you had just gone through, struggled to wiggle from underneath the comfort of your blankets. Your hands instinctively rubbed the underside of your nose as you sniffled all the cold of the room around you. Throwing the blanket off of you, you groaned at the non stop ringing of your phone.

The few steps to your desk felt like an eternity of having to walk with a badgy weight on your feet, but the faint feeling in your body didnt come to an halt even after you picked the device in your hands. Your eyes couldn’t really adjust well to make out the ID of the caller, of course, sleep hadn't rubbed off your eye lids yet, but still you slid the emerald button to acceptance with no resistance.

“Hey” you sleepingly moaned.

“Hellooo! (Y/n)!” Hange called enthusiastically for the other line, her joyous voice piercing your eardrums “Where are you booo?”

“I just woke up why?” you yanwed.

Pacing your eyes around your room you noticed the dull daylight creeping in through your blinds, signaling the gloom of another potentially snowy day for Trost. You blinked as you took notice of the few articles of soon to reside in the laundry bin clothing as well as the dress that hung from your closet door.

And then, it all snapped.

“Oh. shit!”

Anxiety rushed through you like a bullet to the gut, gushing numbness and waves of cold sweat from the point of impact. Forcefully, you ripped your phone off your ear and double tapped at screen to make it light up. The date read December 25, and below it, laid numerous notifications of your alarm and even a pop up reminder from last night to not forget the food you had to take with you.

Thinking back to that, your head started spinning like crazy, the familiar, yet bizarre feeling of your stomach dropping overtaking you. You hadn't cooked, rather, you had spent all night drinking and sulking on your own, cursing yourself for all your choices up to date.

"Yes, oh shit!” Hnge laughed “Oh! You forgot?”

"Hangeeee stop screaming oh my god no I didn't forget, I'm on my way okay?"

A little yelp came out of your mouth as the cable of your charger prevented you from taking another step closer to your bedroom door; letting out a curse under your breath though you quickly unplugged your phone, and rushed over the mess of your room and out to your living room.

"But you said you just woke up."

"Ahhh," you scratched your head, feeling your loose t-shirt sliding down your shoulder "no!" You said, then in a sterner voice you repeated "No! I uhm, I was just-"

Your poor excuse to communicate after having just woken up didn't startled Hange. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing because she burst into joyous, bubbling laughter at the sound of your despair. And you couldn't blame her for it; were you under any other circumstance you would be laughing with yourself as well.

"It's fine. Erwin and I are making a cake for shorty so if you want to cook here you have plenty of time yet. I'm going to say it though, we could really use your pastry skill."

You let out a sigh as you took your phone off your ear and pressed on the speaker icon. Your hands worked fast to grip onto the hem of your shirt and then, even faster, they managed to pull it off of you in shift movements.

"I'm just going to have a shower, dress up and I'll be on my way. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes."

Hange exhaled in utter relief through the phone and you could practically feel her sheepish smile as Erwin shouted a big fat 'thank you' from the depths of his kitchen. Bringing out a hand to grap your shower cap -the only shower product you loathed using- you ripped the cap off its place on your cabinet and messily shoved all of your hair in it in rushed movements.

"Got any questions before I hit the shower Hange?"

"Please ask her" Erwin was heard and you cocked your head to the side at the sound.

"No Erwiin, we got it under control okay?"

"No we don't."

Shaking your head to prevent yourself from zoning out, you clicked your tongue before opening your mouth to address your two friends. Asking as to what they were referring to was easy, although it was obvious that Hange felt confident in succeeding in the task Erwin was referring to. Knowing Hange though, you thought you could guess perhaps what exactly was going on.

"Please don't mix food coloring with spinach juice to make the cake green like two years ago."

Erwin's laughter was pretty much evident through the other line as Hange went on blubbering about how she wasn't going to do it again giving extreme emphasis as to why she couldn't understand the reason it tasted bad in the first place but would go with what you said nevertheless. At that point Erwin was laughing hysterically, telling you how Hange was once again, indeed, thinking about it and the sound of his laughter grew even louder than Hange's words.

"Do you have food coloring?"

"Yes Hange I have food coloring."

"Plea-pleaee bring some. Dammit Erwin what's gotten into you- gotta go (y/n) see you in a while."

The beeping sound from the other line left you little to no time to properly reply to your friends with a much wanted greeting, though, you didn't think much of it. You were going to spend the whole day with them, so getting upset over not getting the chance to say goodbye over the phone wasn't something that should have caused guilt to spurt in you.

But surely, this wasn't the only cause of your overly bubbling guilt. The actual cause of the knot in your gut laid to the fact that within the time span of two weeks you had managed to to drag Levi and yourself into a rather steep rabbit hole. There was going to be a serious impact of your relationship with your friends had the two of you made it known to them; everyone would scold you -and they'd be right at that- and maybe this time they'd pick sides as to what wrong or not. And you didn't want that.

Although you secretly wished everyone went with Levi. Or at least you had come to the conclusion that that was what you deserved.

You had been feeling bothered and repulsed by what had caused you to make out with him that night, given the fact that you had been the one that initiated the kiss. And just as much, you had been feeling furious over Levi allowing this to ever happen. But looking back at it now, you couldn't say you regretted getting close to him even in such way. And that was probably the most infuriating thing of all.

Nevertheless, there was also the fact that you would be seeing Levi today and frankly you didn't know what to do with that. Should you act like everything was fine? Should you simply ignore him? Was Petra going to be with him?

Speaking of Petra it would be best if you straight up let her know of what had happened. Acting shady with another woman's man behind her back was outrageous for anyone to do and you hated being in that position like the next person.

Your stomach twisted dangerously at your spiraling thoughts, but you chose to ignore the tight knot, attributing the loud growl you had heard to one caused by your excessive hunger.

Perhaps, your shower was going to help you sort out your thoughts and intentions.

With a twist of your wrist the water started sprinting out of the tap in your shower. Your eyes were fixated on your phone, your thumb roaming through Spotify in hopes to find the perfect song to company your bath with. You simply said good for a Christmas playlist that Spotify suggested, tapping on that, a list of numerous jolly songs popped up in your screen and you simply pressed the big shuffle button before putting your head on your cabinet.

The walk to Erwin's house was very much and as previously expected, quiet. The sidewalks on your way were all covered in sugary white snow, decorating each different apartment complex in the non urban side of Trost along with the standard holiday decorations.

Taking a deep sigh you brought the back of your finger to the metallic button of Erwin's doorbell. Blinking rationally, you looked around at the marble front door frame of his apartment complex, your blood subtly rushing to your feet. You dragged the tip of your combat boot over the snow, curling your toes on the fuzzy material that covered the inside of the shoe.

You were beginning to become impatient as you waited on the doorframe, Erwin was taking way too long to open the door and you were practically freezing out there; the dress you wore did almost nothing to keep you warm. Despite you taking precautions by wearing a cardigan and the leather coat that you had snatched from your brother, the cold still pierced through your sheer black pantyhose, as if your efforts to stay warm were ridiculous.

The sound of footsteps was what startled you next but still your head didn't turn to the source of the buzzing noise. Your nose simply nuzzled to the scarf you had wrapped around yourself as you rubbed your face onto its warm fleece material.

"Uh, hi."

This time you could help but turn around to check who had thrown a greeting at you.

A familiar puff of ginger hair greeted you as you snuck your nose out of the edge of your scarf, two big and round hazel eyes stared right at you as you blinked rapidly back at them.

Great. Just great.

"Hey."

Petra wiggled her nostrils once to the left and then to the right, seemingly scratching the awkwardness in the atmosphere away. She blinked her eyes a few times into yours, her lips pursing together slightly as if she was coming up with a good comeback to your greeting, yet it never came.

"uhm, what's up?"

Your fingers slightly clutched the edges of your coat, crossing over your chest as you felt your jaw start clattering. Your pupils gathered at the corners of your eyes, catching small glimpses of Petra as you eyed her up and down.

She too had opted for a cardigan and a dress. A very safe choice if you were in a place to express your opinion but hers, despite being adorned with numerous tiny and dainty coral and red flowers, looked so thin and tule like and it barely covered her thighs, so much that you felt a pinch of concern run through you that you were slow to decide on whether you wanted to brush off or not.

"I'm.. good." She managed to let out, but you noticed how her lip trembled.

She was definitely shivering, if that wasn't concerning enough you didn't know what was, and she looked so frail and out of place that she could definitely beat you at it. Plus, the lack of a warm jacket struck somewhat of a nerve at you. Even feeling so much guilt over being in her presence you couldn't help but feel your motherly friend instincts wash over you; why wasn't she wearing something warmer? And why were you seconds away from taking off your jacket to offer it to her when you knew she wouldn't even accept it.

"Damn, Erwin's sure taking long, do you want my jacket?"

"Uh-"

Once again and mostly out of instinct, your finger tapped over the metallic button, covered by the edge of your sleeve. Suddenly, the familiar buzz of the intercom growled in your eardrum and you shook your head to its direction automatically.

"I'm so sorry!" Erwin said. "Come in!"

"Hey Erwin!" Petra spoke before you had a chance to say your wanted reply.

Even if you couldn't see him, you knew how shocked of an expression he was wearing.

Taking the few steps into the apartment complex's yard, you rushed to the next door and waited for the known buzz which signaled that Erwin had finally let you inside. With awkwardness spread over your face though, you pushed your lips into a thing line, holding the door back as you signaled to Petra that she should be the first to come inside.

"Thank you." She muttered.

"No prob."

You watched as Petra hesitated to push the elevator button; with a set of trembling fingers her palm rested only a few inches before the metallic button that was lit in a red arrow. With another smile you came closer to her and went to check in which floor the elevator was currently at. Whether she flinched intentionally or not, you didn't know.

"Wanna share a lift? It'll be a while till it comes down again." You offered.

"Uhm, yeah okay."

Once she responded, Petra tapped onto the elevator button with her thumb.

Petra looked at you and clung onto the edged of her cardigan once again. You took notice of how she looked a little more casual and unkept, despite being dressed on point; the lack of a jacket and her tousled naturally wavy bob betrayed an unwillingness to be present to today's event and it's was painfully obvious.

"I'd like to" Petra hesitated, "I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Oh sure, what is it about?"

"It's about Levi."

Dead silence fell as Petra didn't dare turn her gaze to your direction. The little screen over the elevator button still showed that your lift was taking long to come down as if it mocked you, but you couldn't find it in you to tap into the button once again.

"Would you like to grab some coffee with me tomorrow?"

Tomorrow.

To say that you were panicked would be an exaggeration and probably a degradation to Petra's feelings. Her breathing was heavier than your own, frankly because for her it must have been even more uncomfortable than it was for you. You couldn't blame her for that.

Nonetheless you couldn't help but be genuinely curious as to what she had wanted to tell you? It was evident that she knew something. What's slipped you was whether or not she want to bash you for your actions.

She had every right to do so.

"Yeah. Of course, uhh, tomorrow sounds good."

....

Christmas day wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be when Hange had announced to you that Levi would be coming alone with Petra.

For starters, the food was in plehtora; Erwin had cooked your jolly favorite roasted chicken, Mike and Nanaba had brought an enormous plate of their creamiest, most mouth watering souffle, Levi had made some god tasty pumpkin soup and Hange had taken actually good care of fixing a custom non alcoholic cocktail to each one of you.

All of this drool worthy deliciousness had caused, and non surprisingly at that, your body to submit in that peaceful demi slumber that tagged along with the fullness of your tummy. Frankly, it had been so long since you had enjoyed such a good meal and you didn't think you would be enjoying another one until Mikasa's birthday.

Thus, the cool evening sir that entered the room when Erwin opened the window door to the balcony, found you laying on the floor right next to the tangerine fire that danced in the fireplace. You could faintly feel Nanaba's hand scratch at the roots of your hair, her almond tipped nails slowly running in purringly mellow lines over your sculp that sent you to pure delight.

Levi's eyes danced over your form more than he'd like to admit so. Ever so slightly his pupils would travel up and down your thighs and calfs, examining the material of your sheer back pantyhose but whatever emotion overcame him wasn't the animalistic lust he had expected to feel.

He felt rather guilty. And not only for staring at your legs. For bringing himself upon the situation he was in.

It wasn't easy to think with a throbbing head but in Levi's world this poor condition was translated as a prompt to try to get out of whatever shithole he had found himself in. Maybe. Because there was also a certain part inside of him that bashed him to no end about his previous and degrading actions to both Petra's and his person, which part he completely and rationally justified.

With a quick glance at Petra, Levi brought his hand to his face to hopefully wipe any of the numbness his guilt had got him feeling. Petra seemed to enjoy herself as per usual. With her soft smiles and the mellow sway of her hair over her shoulder, she'd often reach for the hem of her white wooly cardigan to cover her shoulder while cooing into the soft material and onto the side of the couch she was seating in.

It would be hard for anyone to guess that the two of them had broken up.

She was unsurprisingly sitting as far off him as she could; the fact that they hadn't announced to anyone they had broken up because they didn't want the Christmas party at Erwin's to be ruined didn't mean she owned Levi to act like his faithful and bubbly dog.

It happened that night after he had stood her up at the movies.

Levi had gathered all of his determination and had managed to push all thoughts aside from the back of his brain, as he was despairate to ignore that feeling your make out session had brushed on him. He had walked up to Petra, all dissolved and stoic, his chest swelling with anxiety. He had stared at her with an agape mouth, he had been muttering words so honest that he felt were fatally brute and Petra had digested them all without any difficulty.

And before he knew it, he was over and done.

Petra hadn't cried, she hadn't wept, she had only answered him with a smile that she'd rather just be friends with him if things weren't going to work between them.

And to an extended it tortured the ravenette, mostly because he remembered the hurt look in her face before she had managed to hide it with her usual mellow smile.

Taking another sigh, Levi stared at Petra's hand while she played silently with the lettuce hem of her dress. Her hazel orbs were fixed on you, who laid before the fireplace like a stray cat on the tire of car during a snowy day. Levi couldnt exactly place the exact emotion behind Petra's expression, though it would be perceived by most as a saddened one. There were specs of regret gathering at the corners of her eyes, reluctance gathered at her slightly puckered lips and a hint of determination to the front tips of her eyebrows.

Maybe Petra's inner strength was something that Levi deeply admired.

Levi made no effort whatsoever to reach out to her to ask what was going on, not even to show some seemingly convern. The more he looked at Petra, the more it felt utterly wrong for him to simply stand next to her, knowing what he had do behind her back. Whether he loved her or not, it wasn't like him to be caught up in such stupid drama.

"Shorty!"

Levi looked up to an enthusiastic Hange with much tousled hair and a big grin on her face that spread from one ear to another. With another, more thorough glance, he quickly became aware of the cake in her hands; a cake covered in white frosting, decorated with soft pastel green letters that wrote a simple birthday wish to his person. He couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"For you!" Hange smiled further "Erwiiin, come light up the candles!"

Looking around the room he noticed how all of his friends' gazes were on him. Mike and Nanaba remained cuddled on the couch opposite to the one he was on, Petra was mellowy smiling at his eith her cherry lips pressed into a thin line and you were fiddling with what seating arrangement was most comfortable for you at the moment.

"We're celebrating another year where you went up in age and down in height, how delightful." Mike commented, causing laughter to spark between the small group of people around you.

After the spur of happiness died out your eyes met with Levi's, briefly and then they traveled anywhere else in the room altogether.

"Let's light up the candles!" Smiled Erwin as he flicked the small metallic button of his lighter.

"I don't want too many, shit. The last time you took my lungs out."

"Not our fault that you're old Levi!" You spoke, earning a half smile by the ravenette.

"Very old!" Hange agreed.

"Tch, I'm only turning twenty six shut your shitty mouths!"

The warm light of the fire licked each waxed strip of wick that hung from the candles, illuminating Hange's face in warm orange light. Once done with lighting up the candles, Erwin plopped himself in between Levi and Petra, crossing his hands over his knees as he shifted his bottom in the most uncomfortable seating on a couch you had ever witnessed.

You merely caught a glimpse of Hange kneeling before Levi as you dragged your gaze over to Petra, fixating it on her for the thousandth time this evening.

There only was one thing in your head that bounced between the crevices of your brain like crazy. Just one simple words that held so much behind it.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow you were going to apologize to Petra and try to make amends. Being the despicable toxic person you had turned into didn't suit you. Owing up to your mistakes was the first step to redemption and you weren't afraid to take it.

As you fell into a spiral of thoughts and guesses about tomorrow though, you couldn't help but subtly ignore the cheerful sing alone to Levi's birthday song.

.....

"Thank you for coming!"

Petra's hair was messily swaying all over her face, falling a direct victim to the frozen December air, yet she smiled as if nothing was going on.

The park around you was covered in snow. White was primarily the color that was plastered on everything, save for the dry stems of trees that were once covered in forest green leaves.

Your peeping hot coffee did nothing to warm up your hands, despite your best wishes and in the moment you had called victim to some specs of jealousy over Petra's gloved hands as they rubbed soothing over her own coffee.

"Of course, I had been meaning to talk to you as well."

"Oh you did?" Petra spoke with her eyebrows following the little surprise that was masking her tone. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd come."

"Yeah about that-"

"Can I please go first?" Petra cut you off.

Her huge hazel eyes that blinked into yours from your left side left you little to no space to deny her wish. Thus, by taking a sigh, you pushed past the quick beating of your heart and gestured her to go first with a kind smile on your face.

"Okay oof, thanks!" Petra huffed "look. Levi and I broke up. Now I know that you'll say it doesn't concern you, and frankly it'd be ideal if it didn't, but I know it does, because Levi explained to me what happened."

At that Petra slightly paused.

Naturallye first thing that came to your mind was the need to express an apology. Although, you weren't that sure if Petra would perceive the apology as sincere, you felt like you ought to give one to her. Yet her eyes blinked into yours further as she took another turn down the path you were walking on and you wordlessly followed asuit.

"I love Levi you know," she sighed "but Levi loves you. You're not over each other and it's painfully obvious, I mean you did just collided to eachother quite literally, not giving a single care about whether you couldn't have each other or not."

A sheer red colored tint painted your cheeks at her words.

Your skin pricked you, burning up a stingingly painful path to all of the pores on your face as shame took the form of an earth shattering wave. Your heart started heaping beats, hollering into the depths of your chest and you could hear it bounce inside your eardrums as if your whole body was hollow save for the jolting organ and the echo of the sound it made was bouncing around each fleshy wall.

Petra was right and you couldn't help but accept but stand the as she was lightning you with her words.

"It hurts to see that someone that I love doesn't love me back but it hurts more to see that you two are very miserable without eachother. I really thought you were a bitch you know."

At the sound of that, you let out a startled laugh.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you just gave us looks when we'd shoe up together somewhere or you'd simply leave, but I don't like turning my back on people and judging them like that. I'm in no place to judge anyone a coping mechanism."

Petra sighed. Her fingers curled strongly onto her cup, while her left palm went to support the cup by the bottom as she angled it on her lips. She made a tiny gulping noise as she drank a sip from her latte, her nose crinkling up as the hot beverage brushed over her sensitive tongue. In turn, you sipped similarly, mimicking Petra just hoping it would serve as a sign for her to go on with her speech.

"I might be hurt, but I vouch to help you and Levi resolve what's going on and get back together."

"You do?"

"Mhm"

"Petra I, I don't know what to say you- you're a literal angel." You admit and the guilt in your stomach only growled in its awakening.

You and Levi had hurt a wonderful person. Petra didn't need to be nice to you, she didn't need to offer to help you with anything but once you made yourself step inside her shoes you were able to see why she had perceived you the way that she initially had.

"I'm sorry."

Your voice was silent and stripped of any emotion other than shame yet Petra was beaming at you in response.

Her warm smile was elegant and comforting as she stared at you, taking another gulp of her drink with a soft giggle. Your eyes were locked with hers, saddened (e/c) irises staring into her hazel ones, as she smiled even more little by little.

It was strange.

There was a different kind of bubbling inside your chest and you knew because your heart wasn't hammering anymore, not was your stomach trying to be ripped apart in tiny pieces after it vored into your other intestines. You felt serene, at peace even.

It clicked to you that this is what must feel to be forgiven.

"It's fine, plus you guys kinda deserve each other." Petra laughed at your chocked inhale, pressing a comforting, gloved palm to your shoulder. "I'd rather find my happiness when I'm not in between two people that struggle to find theirs."

Petra nuzzled to the comfort of her jacket, giving you a scrunched up bunny smile. You knew it's not that she hoped you could be best friends after this. She simply wanted to make sure that she could do her best to help two people find happiness. And it wasn't all that bad, you figured. You didn't know what you would do were you in her place.

In a way, you admired Petra for being so strong.

"Besides, girls shouldn't bring down other girls."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about what I did behind your back. I own up to my mistake. I can't take it back but I can promise that I won't become this toxic ever again."

You shot an apologetic side smile at her as you followed her tracks.

Taking a new look in your surroundings, you deeply inhaled the cold air, filling your lungs in shivering winter freshness. A few specs of snow were adorning Petra's hair as the fell from the sky in a dainty manner, licking the stray threads that popped from her wooly gloves.

There definitely was a commotion a few blocks away. You could hear sirens go off not so far from your spot but you chose to ignore them, it was typical for a city person to filter out unnecessary noise, and having to live in Trost added tons to what you had to filter or not.

"It's December twenty six and the two is back to being a Mayhem." Petra sighed.

"It's like we're Gotham or some shit."

"Gotham?" Petra blinked at you, earning a gasp from you.

"Step one to being the friend of someone who's majoring in comics-"

"Oh, friends yay!"

Shaking your head, to ignore the child like enthusiasm, you continued, "Please know the most well known fictional city, it's Batman's city too."

"OH!" Petra's mouth fell agape as she took in the information, but she quickly giggled again as she saw that you easily took a gulp of your beverage "you're right."

For what seemed like a second you felt at peace once again. Petra bubbled about how she wanted to apologise to Levi about her rather cold behavior last night, and explained in the most non detailed way how it was the memory of the passing of her mother that had caused her to become this grumpy.

"Don't worry Petra! But beware, you could be turning into Levi version two point oh and-"

A loud sound startled you, sending both you and Petra back a few steps. Dumbfounded, you stared at each other and around you, locking eyes with different by passers that were just as shocked as you.

"Maybe we should go back!" Petra suggested. You simply nodded, hearing a good amount of running footsteps coming to the direction of the block you were in. In any way, getting caught up with a manhunt wasn't in your plans for today

"Yeah maybe we shou-"

Your words were cut off absurdly, harshly and shockingly all together. As gunmetal orbs locked with yours, your eyelids shot open, hour mouth dropping to the snow covered concrete.

"Levi?"

Wait, Levi? That was actually so random

Before you could manage to process what was going on around you, or why on earth Levi had just popped up from the alley right across you another head splitting sound filled the air.

Levi -yes, this was indeed Levi, you just didn't really know how to process this- collapsed on his knees like a rag doll, his torso and head giving in to the exhaustion of his body. Once he fell, you stood frozen, shieldimg Petra with one hand as the two of you watched in horror while crimson started littering the sugary snow.

"Call an ambulance." You spoke dryly, eyes still wide with horror.

The people who had seemed to be after Levi quickly fell onto the hands of the hands of a handful of police men who were on their tracks, but you couldn't care to look at their faces. You just run towards Levi, always followed by a petrified Petra, your feet giving in as you kneeled right next to him, your fingers gingery ghosting over him just to inspect what was his condition.

You listened as Petra spoke with the emergency center in horror, explaining what was the scene before her eyes while struggling to keep herself from trembling.

"What's going on?" Shy muttered once she detached the phone off her ear.

"I'm pretty sure now is not the right time for a story, but Levi used to be in a street gang in his teens."

"Oh boy."

Oh boy indeed.

Here's your gentle reminder that constructive criticism makes me cry because I'm a baby

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @liddolwhynot2000 @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @thethyri @hawkssnugget @berrijam @melancholicmonologue

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alirhi · 3 years ago

Text

okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

#fan rant #ragepost #long post #bucky barnes #mcu #captain america #the first avenger #the winter soldier #civil war #tfatws #mcu spoilers #stop victim blaming #victim not villain #never a fucking villain #bucky deserved better #fuck marvel #fuck disney

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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

Text

Liquid Courage

A/N: Okay, so, this Sonny Carisi x reader fic was literally just an excuse to write drunk!Sonny. Idk how it got so long, but here we are. My headcanon is that Sonny is...touch starved is the wrong adjective. Affectionate? Touchy? Something. Hope y'all enjoy!

Tags: SVU talk, alcohol mention

Words: 3270

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @storiesofsvu @lv7867 @cycat4077 @barbasimp @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @reading--mermaid @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

You were standing in the vast hallways of the courthouse, waiting to hear if your testimony helped at all. You were a Medical Examiner for the Manhattan NYPD, meaning you couldn’t tailor your statements like the detectives or victims could; you only spoke about the facts. And the facts were simple; with the injuries the deceased sustained, they died from asphyxiation. Could it have been caused by their husband wrapping a soft material around their throat? Of course. Could it also have been caused by the victim hanging herself in her room? Yes, it could. The same could be said for a thousand other scenarios. The difference was the husband was found to be abusive, and it was highly suspected that he killed her. But that was the detective’s job. Yours was to give them the facts. Did you want the sick fuck behind bars? Of course, but that wasn’t what you were called for—no opinions, just facts.

The SVU squad caught up with you quickly; Olivia, Amanda, Fin, and Sonny. You adverted your eyes when you saw Sonny; you had a crush on him, though you were only friends. At first, you were just the ME, hardly talking to him…or any of the squad, really, outside of work-related things. But he was charming and made it a point to talk to you every time he visited about, well, everything. Soon enough, you knew all about his family, and he knew about yours. He even invited you over for game night with the squad a few times.

“Jury back yet?” you asked as they got closer. You asked Olivia, but your eyes darted to Sonny a few times, your cheeks burning. He, of course, decided to stand right next to you, close enough to touch.

“Not yet; it’s only been a few hours—” Olivia was cut off as her phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket, glancing at the screen. “Never mind; jury’s back now.” You followed them to the courtroom, and congratulated them all, including Barba, when the jury came back with a guilty conviction.

“Celebratory drinks?” Amanda asked, grinning. Everyone agreed with that…except for you.

Sonny looked to you expectantly, but you shook your head. “I’d love to, but I’d rather decompress at home,” you replied, smiling sheepishly.

The detectives all nodded in understanding. Sonny patted your arm lightly, muttering a, “you’ll be missed. See ya on Monday,” before following his coworkers. You trailed behind before splitting from the group, heading home while they headed in the direction of Forlini’s.

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

You were at home, reading a book while soft piano music played softly on your speakers. You jumped as your phone rang. Looking at the id, you cocked an eyebrow. Sonny was calling you?

“Hey, Sonny; everything okay?” you asked as you answered.

There was loud music playing and voices before Sonny’s voice overpowered them all. “Heyyyy doll! I hope you’re doing okaaaay.”

Oh god, he was drunk. You let out a little huff of laughter, shaking your head. “I’m doing just fine, Son. How’re you?”

“I-I miss you,” he hiccupped, and your cheeks burned. “I wanted to l-let you know….” He pulled away from the phone for a moment, talking to someone before he was back. “I app-appreciate all you do, and I-I looooove youuuu~.” He dragged out the last two words, saying them in a sing-song voice.

Your heart leapt into your throat. He was obviously drunk; he didn’t mean it like that…or did he? “Do you need me to come pick you up?” you asked, concerned.

Sonny’s words all melded together and you couldn’t understand what he was saying anymore.

“Okay, I’ll be right there. Stay. There,” you ordered, pulling your shoes on. At least he was with his squad. He slurred something else unintelligible before hanging up, and you rolled your eyes, a small grin on your lips.

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

You made it to Forlini’s in record time, glancing around at the patrons, looking for the lanky detective. He wasn’t too hard to find; in the corner of the bar was the whole SVU squad, and Sonny was loud. He was laughing at something, pounding his hand on the table, his head thrown back as he guffawed. Picking out a path towards him, you weaved through the crowded bar feeling completely out-of-place in your sweats and loose shirt.

Once close enough, you reached a hand out, laying your hand on Sonny’s elbow. He jumped, whipping around to look at you and almost falling off his seat in the process. His cheeks were rosy, and he had the widest grin on his face as his watery eyes focused on you.

“You came! Can I b-buy you a drink?” Sonny asked loudly, his voice carrying over the rest of the cacophony in the bar.

You gave him a soft smile. “Actually, I think it’s time to take you home, Son,” you replied. The rest of the squad seemed to be in various states of sober or tipsy, but Sonny was obviously the one that was gone. He didn’t object as you helped him stand, waving a goodbye to the rest of the squad, and pulling him through the bar.

“Guys! The hot ME is taking me home!” Sonny yelled, and you ducked your head, your face on fire. Other drunks in the bar congratulated him, and you as well, as you made your way through the throng. You just wrapped an arm tighter around Sonny’s waist, pulling him towards the exit.

Once outside, Sonny wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you close to him. “Have I told you how much I love you?” he asked, resting his head on top of yours.

“You may have mentioned it on the phone,” you commented, trying to drag him towards your car.

Sonny was having trouble walking straight, mostly because he was trying to wrap himself around you. “I mean it, d-doll. You’re so fuckin’ smm-art and pretty and funny and cute and beautiful…” he trailed off, leaning almost completely on you now, his weight crushing you.

“Uh huh,” you replied, smiling despite yourself. You knew he was only saying this because he was drunk; sober-Sonny would never be like this. It left a pang of sadness in your heart, because you really did like him. But come tomorrow, he’d remember none of it, and life would go back to normal.

You made it to your car and deposited him in the passenger seat, buckling him in. Sonny attempted to get out, but the seatbelt held him down. He seemed confused, pulling at the material across his chest as you slid into the driver’s seat. You cracked his window so that he’d get some fresh air and pulled away from the curb. You knew where he lived, so you headed in that direction.

“Love you,” Sonny muttered, his eyes glued to your face. You smiled, ignoring the fluttering those words made burst forth. Only in your wildest dreams did Sonny say those words to you, but he’s said it so much tonight...at least it would fuel some late night fantasies. You jumped as his hand connected gently with your head. You were about to ask what he was doing until you realized; he was petting your hair.

“So soft…” he breathed, his fingers twining through the strands of hair. Your breathing hitched slightly, and you tried to focus on the road.

“Is there a reason you’re petting me?” you asked, chuckling lightly.

“Cause your hair is so soft, so pretty…feels so nice,” Sonny replied. You were thankfully getting close to his place when you noticed him moving; it seemed like he was trying to fight the seatbelt, but couldn’t quite figure it out.

“What are you doing?” you asked, alarmed.

Sonny grunted against the impossible belt holding him down. “Wanna cuddle. Wanna hold you.” He said it almost angrily, but that was directed more at the damned seatbelt holding him from you.

“Sonny, stop struggling; wait until we’re not in the car,” you instructed. He let out a huff of defeat, sinking into the seat grumpily before dissolving into giggles.

You pulled up in front of his apartment complex shortly after. As you got out and came around to his side, you let out a chuckle, watching Sonny fight and lose against the seatbelt. You hurried to open his door, leaning across him, and clicking his seatbelt off.

“Freedom!” Sonny cheered as you helped him out of the car. Though, now free of the car, nothing stopped him from draping his body over yours, leaning over your back.

“Sonny, this isn’t helpful—” you started before he cut you off.

“Mmm cuddles,” he murmured, his voice directly in your ear, slurring even worse than before.

You struggled under his weight as he forced more of himself on you, wrapping his arms completely around your torso and arms, leaning almost completely on top of you, forcing you to bend forwards under his weight. “S-Sonny…I need you to walk with me, man,” you huffed, trying to take the few steps into his building.

“Can we cuddle, though?” Sonny asked, wrapping a leg around your waist.

You had to stop walking, spreading your legs so that he didn’t completely throw you off balance. “Oh my god; yes, we can cuddle. But let’s get inside first.”

Reluctantly, he peeled himself off you…mostly. He kept his arms around you as you tried to hurry to his door, before he changed his mind and rewrapped around you.

“Keys?” you asked as you made it to his apartment.

Sonny seemed barely conscious at this point, leaning fully on you again, but from the side this time. You had to lean partly against the wall to keep from falling. “You’rrrrre prettyyy,” he hummed in your ear.

“Yes, thank you. Where’s your keys?” you repeated. Sonny swayed on his feet, blinking slowly, showing no signs of hearing you. You sighed, reaching into his pockets, searching for any kind of jingling. You found his phone and wallet easily enough before your fingers closed around his keyring.

As you pulled your hand out of his pants pocket, he said in a low voice, “I like when you touch me.”

Heat rushed to your face, and you ignored him, as well as the rush of arousal you felt, and unlocked the door. “Come on,” you grunted, dragging him over the threshold. You half led, half carried Sonny back to his bedroom. Once his bed was in sight, Sonny extracted himself from you, moving to collapse onto the mattress, face-first and laying diagonally across it, legs dangling off the side. Bending down, you were able to get his shoes off quickly before he rolled onto his back.

He reached out for you, muttering, “cuddles” over and over again as you shook your head at him.

“Hold on, Son. Let me go to the bathroom really quick,” you lied. You had no intentions of cuddling with him, nervous about what he may do. Sonny was a good guy, but alcohol was a hell of a drug.

He nodded to you, letting his arms fall to his sides. You quickly leaned over him, loosening his tie and pulling it off. “Be right back,” you said, leaving his room and closing the door behind you.

Searching in his kitchen, you quickly found glasses. You filled one with water before heading back towards his room. You debated finding food for him, but water seemed more important right now. That is, until you opened his bedroom door and found him passed out. Sighing once more, you deposited the glass on his nightstand, then reached into his pockets, pulling out his wallet and phone. His charger was laying on the floor by the nightstand, and you plugged in his phone while he snored loudly. Then, as gently as you could, you lifted his legs and pulled them to the bed, angling him so that his head was on the pillows…more or less.

Shaking your head slightly and fighting a smile, you crept out of his room, letting him sleep it off. You wondered if you should just go home, but you were worried about him; he had gotten pretty drunk. Making your way back to the kitchen, you glanced in his fridge. He kept it well-stocked, and you vaguely remembered him telling you he liked to cook. Nodding to yourself, you went to the couch in the living room, making yourself comfortable, and falling asleep quickly.

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

You awoke early in the morning. The apartment was silent, and you stretched before getting up. After splashing some water in your face while in the bathroom, you made your way to the kitchen. You took out the eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, cheese, and salsa you had found the previous night. You weren’t a whiz in the kitchen, but you could make an omelet easily enough. Searching through cabinets for pans, you also found a cheese grater. You glanced at the potatoes in a basket on the counter, deciding to add some hash browns to the mix. Greasy food was the best for hangovers. Finding the pans, you started grating the potatoes, letting them cook a bit before starting on the meat.

There was a beep behind you, and you jumped before you realized it was the automatic coffeemaker. You searched until you found mugs, then made yourself a cup as you cooked. Once the meat and potatoes were done, you turned everything to low, waiting for Sonny to wake up. Eggs don’t take much to cook, and you could make them as he showered or drank coffee.

As if your thoughts summoned him, you could hear Sonny shuffling about in his room. The door slowly opened, and a very disgruntled-looking Sonny stumbled out of his room. Since waking, he had stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, making your cheeks burn. His eyes were barely open, and his hair hung limply on his face as he rubbed his head.

When he caught you in his kitchen, he froze, eyes going wide. “Wh-what are you doing here?” he muttered. His eyes traveled over the various pans on the stove before coming back to your face. “Wait…please tell me we didn’t….”

“N-no! I just gave you a ride home last night, then slept on your couch to make sure you didn’t die from alcohol poisoning,” you explained. Though, you were slightly disappointed with how upset he seemed about potentially sleeping with you.

Sonny nodded, moving to make himself a cup of coffee. “And the breakfast is just a bonus?”

“I figured you’d need the help. You were pretty…fucked up last night,” you smiled, and he groaned.

“Please tell me I didn’t do anything too embarrassing,” he mumbled as you cracked the eggs into the pan.

You salted and peppered the eggs, then moved to poke at the hash browns, making sure they weren’t sticking to the pan. “I wasn’t there at the bar, so you’d have to ask your squad for that story. But, uh, I did watch you lose a fight to a seatbelt.”

“Fucking fantastic,” he replied, letting out a soft chuckle. He came over to you as you flipped the eggs, watching you work. “That it? Nothing else? Because I did wake up fully clothed, minus shoes and a tie.”

Your cheeks burned and you kept your eyes on the eggs as you put the mushrooms on top. “I’ve learned you really want cuddles when drunk…and that you think my hair is soft.” You didn’t dare look at him as you sprinkled some cheese on the mushrooms, then folded half the eggs on top of it. You plated the omelet, pouring some salsa on top and adding more cheese. “The tie just seemed like a safety precaution.”

You kept your eyes on the food, even as you felt Sonny staring at you. Once you had scooped hash browns, sausage, and bacon onto the plate, you chanced a glance at him, offering him the plate. Sonny’s eyes bored into yours, holding you there for what seemed like forever before he took the plate from you.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

You gave him a small smile. “Anytime,” you breathed back. Sonny moved to a free spot on the counter, taking small bites of food. But his eyes went wide as he tasted it, and he started shoveling food into his mouth. Grinning, you scooped the rest of the food onto another plate before moving to soak the pans.

You ate in silence, pausing only to drink coffee. Having less food, you finished first, then moved to start doing the dishes.

“No, no. You made this amazing food; I’ll do dishes,” Sonny said, swallowing hard.

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Son; I made a mess of your kitchen. I’ll clean it—”

“Like hell you will. First, you made sure I made it home safe. Second, you stayed the night to make sure I didn’t die. And third, you made me the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time—I swear my hangover is gone. You are not doing dishes.”

You smirked. “Okay fine, you win.” Instead, you finished your coffee, rinsing the mug out in the sink. Sonny continued eating, and you felt awkward standing in his kitchen. “So…I guess I’ll see you at work?” you said as a way of goodbye. You grabbed your phone off the counter, slowly making your way to his door.

“Wait!” Sonny called out, following you out of the kitchen. You cocked an eyebrow at him, and he shifted on his feet. “I-I feel like I should give you a better thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

“It’s fine, Sonny, really. That’s what friends are for, right?” you shrugged.

Sonny seemed to fight with himself for a moment before he muttered, barely audible for you to hear, “what if…I don’t want to be just friends?”

“What?” you asked, your heart racing. He wasn’t drunk anymore, and if what he was saying was true….

He came closer to you. “What if I don’t want to be just friends?” he repeated. “It seems like…drunk me was at least trying to flirt with you…. Something sober me is too damn nervous to even attempt.” When you still didn’t respond, he let out a huff. “What I mean is, I-I like you…a lot. And I’d, uh, I’d like to get to know you better?”

“You’re not still drunk, are you?” you asked, half-joking. Sonny shook his head, eyes wide. “Okay, good. Because you kinda did profess your love to me last night…but I was afraid that it was only because you were drunk.”

Sonny ran a hand over his face. “Did I really? I’m…so sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

“No, it’s fine, really. I, uh…I’ve liked you for a while now. I was just worried that it was your drunk self that liked me, and not, uh, you,” you explained.

Sonny smiled sarcastically. “Drunk me says what sober me is thinking…most of the time.” He rubbed his neck anxiously. “So, uh, can we go on a date? No alcohol, I promise.”

You chuckled. “I’d like that. You obviously have my number—call me?”

“Of course. Let me clean up here—myself as well as the sink—and then I’ll give you a call,” Sonny grinned genuinely this time, and you melted.

“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.” You made your way out of his apartment, giving him a small wave. As he closed the door behind you, you broke out in a wide grin, excited for a date with Detective Carisi.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #I need to hang out with drunk Sonny

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bakugotrashpanda · 4 years ago

Text

What do you Remember

Kaminari x Reader Word Count: 1944

Happy birthday to one (1) Denki Kaminari

Kaminari says some things and doesn’t remember them the next morning.

Denki Kaminari gives you a thumbs up from the hospital bed, a loopy grin on his face. This isn’t his usual ‘I overused my quirk and just need to rest’ look. No, this is the ‘I am loopy on meds’ look. When you had gotten the call that he was in the hospital, you dropped everything and rushed over.

“You the roommate?” a nurse approaches you. With the bags under her eyes, you hope she’s nearing the end of her shift. You flash your hero ID and she checks it with people authorized to take the electric hero home.

“I’m here to take him back,” you say and look at your roommate through the glass door. “Anything I should know about?” The nurse hands you her clipboard and points to the places you need to sign.

“He’s on some pretty strong painkillers,” the nurse shrugs, “He’s going to be out of it for a while. Instructions are on the bottle, don’t let him walk for the day or else he could end up back here. Will you be able to pick him up to carry him?” She checks out your physique and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. You’re a trained hero. ‘Can you lift him?’ Please. You could lift three of him without breaking a sweat.

To prove how capable you are, you walk into the room and scoop Kaminari bridal style out of the bed. The nurse raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. She unhooks the last of the monitors from Kaminari and asks if you need a wheelchair to get him out.

“I’ll be fine,” you smile. Kaminari’s blown out eyes widen when you walk out of the hospital.

“I live with the best people ever!” Kaminari grins.

“Mhm, we know,” you nod. Kaminari had been rambling the entire ride home, his words a stream of unfiltered thoughts. He had already told you how pretty the trees looked when covered with blossoms. Five times.

“And I have the best partner ever too!” Kaminari gushes as you settle him on the couch. Sero watches this with amusement from the kitchen.

After graduating from UA, the three of you had found a cheap apartment while you all figured out how to navigate the world of being full-fledged heroes.

“Yup,” you dismiss his words and focus on keeping anything and everything the man could want in the next 24 hours. His job was to stay on the couch, but knowing him, he would probably try to walk around in the next 15 minutes. “You and Sero make a great hero team.”

“Nooo, not Sero!” Kaminari frowns, “I’m dating Y/N!” You drop the TV remote in your hand and turn to face him.

“E-EXCUSE ME?” you sputter. Dating? I think I would know if I was dating someone.

“Oh this is gonna be good,” Sero says and pulls out his phone. You can only assume he started recording Kaminari because he asks rather loudly, “Kami, can you tell me one more time who you’re dating?”

“Yeah!” Kaminari’s face lights up in delight and he props himself up on his elbows, “I’m dating Y/N! They’re super sweet and they make the best pancakes on the weekend.”

“He’s right, you do make good pancakes,” Sero interjects. You look on in mute horror, wondering what else Kaminari will say.

“An’ I love ‘em so much!” Kaminari flops back onto the couch. Maybe he could recover in his bedroom instead of the living room where Sero could harass him for more information.

“OKAY I think it’s time someone went to bed,” you say.

“No!” Sero groans, “I want to hear some more from our esteemed roommate!” The shit-eating grin pasted on his face irritates you to no end. Kaminari barely knows what he’s saying, this wouldn’t be stuff he’d normally say. Hell, he wouldn’t even say this if blackout drunk.

“Sero, turn the camera off,” you say and pick Kaminari up in another bridal style scoop. A shutter clicks and you glare at Sero. Narrowing your eyes, you have a silent conversation conveyed through looks with the black-haired man.

“Fine,” Sero says and pockets his phone.

“You’re like a Greek god,” Kaminari stares up at you in wonder.

“Yup, sure I am, Kami,” you sigh. If only the morphine could wear off faster. Maybe it would have been better to leave him in the hospital for a while longer.

“You’re super strong. Can you bench press me?” Kaminari continues, his hands trail up and down the muscles on your arms. You try to ignore how pleased you feel from the praise.

“I bet I could.”

“Yeah, don’t you want to bench press him?” Sero snickers, getting ready to pull his phone out again.

“No, and don’t you have work to get to or something?” you ask pointedly.

“Nah, who else is going to take care of Kaminari’s bathroom needs?” Sero shrugs. That had already been agreed upon. Sero would take care of bathroom things and you would be in charge of keeping him from messing up his leg even further. Sero’s idea of taking care of him would probably include taping him in place which… would that honestly be so bad?

“Fine,” you huff, “Just keep your comments to yourself.” Sero mock salutes you and starts picking up the things you placed around the couch for Kaminari.

You spend the rest of the afternoon keeping the blond entertained. For the most part it’s easy, but the few times Kaminari tries to leave the comfort of his bed, you had to coax him to stay there. Sero, true to his word, stops trying to get Kaminari to say outlandish things and ends up leaving the two of you alone.

By ten o’clock, you’re exhausted. Your body aches to be in the comfort of your own bed, and not on a well-worn computer chair.

“Alright, Kami,” you sigh, “No getting up now or else I’ll have to stay in here.” Kaminari shoots up in bed at your words. His eyes are wide and he almost looks… panicked?

“No, you can't do that. If Y/N sees you,” Kaminari looks around the room and his voice drops to a whisper, “They’ll think I’m cheating on them.” Cheating? What is he talking about? Does he know that I’m right in front of him? “I could never do that! I’m not a cheater. I don’t know what I’d do if they left me.” Kaminari tries to get out of bed and away from you.

As gently as possible, you push him back onto the bed. Kneeling at the side of the bed, you hold Kaminari’s hand. “Kami, Kami,” you say. Kaminari tries to yank his hand away from yours, sheer terror written on his face. “It’s me! It’s Y/N.” When you say your own name, Kaminari stops struggling and looks at you. As if seeing you for the first time, the tension in his body melts away and a goofy grin takes over his mouth.

“You’re here!” he says softly and tugs your hands towards himself. You’re pulled into an awkward position over Kaminari’s lap. Slender fingers cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips tingle from the brief amount of contact, but it’s an intoxicating feeling and you can’t pull away. When Kaminari releases your mouth, he sighs and flops over on the bed. Soft snores fill the room, and you’re left frozen over him wondering what the hell just happened. Your whole body feels like it’s been electrocuted, but is that from Kaminari’s quirk or your own reaction to the kiss?

“Did he go down alright?” Sero asked when you left Kaminari’s room.

“W-What?” you ask, your head still in the clouds.

“To sleep,” Sero says, “Did you have any trouble getting Kaminari to fall asleep?”

“Oh. No.” you say and robotically move towards your room, “I’m tired though. Night.”

“Good morning!” Kaminari chirps and walks out of his bedroom. It’s a bit early for him to be walking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to sit. After the kiss last night, you don’t want to carry him anywhere and make things awkward.

“You would not believe the dreams I had!” Kaminari continues, “There was a Greek god and- What?” By now he notices you and Sero staring at him.

“Kami, what do you remember from last night?” you ask slowly.

“Uh, to be one hundred percent honest, I can’t tell what’s real and what’s my imagination,” Kaminari scratches his head nervously.

“I have some grade A entertainment for us to watch,” Sero grins.

“Don’t you dare,” you snap.

“He already said it, might as well fill him in,” Sero shrugs. Your eyes narrow and you internally beg for Sero to stop.

“Or,” you hiss, “We can let things drop and pretend it didn’t happen since he clearly doesn’t remember it.” Kaminari eyes dart between you and Sero.

“You’re making me nervous, what happened?” he asks.

“I can’t do this,” you mutter and stomp out of the room. Sero’s voice floats through your closed bedroom door.

“Ah, c’mon! His reactions to it all are part of it!”

You bite your nails and wait to hear Kaminari’s reaction. After a minute of silence, Kaminari screeches and Sero howls with laughter. Kaminari’s voice takes on a tint of anger. You can’t hear the words being said, but you can tell it’s a tense conversation.

There’s a tentative knock on the door and Kaminari pokes his head in. A deep crimson blush covers his face.

“So, uh, I guess we need to talk?” he breaks the ice.

“Do you really feel that way about me?” you ask. Kaminari avoids your eyes and slips into your room. He stands with his back against the door, about as far away as possible from you in the small space.

“I mean, yeah…” he admits. There’s a heavy pause as he thinks of what to say next. “Look, if it’s going to make things awkward, I can crash with Mina and find another place or something. You were the one who found this apartment for us.”

“There’s one thing Sero doesn’t know about,” you say. One thing that I alone know.

“What?”

You beckon him closer. Kaminari edges forward slowly. You wait until he’s directly in front of you. Tugging his shirt towards you, he bends and his ear is next to your mouth.

“You kissed me.” You pull him towards you and he topples on top of you. It’s reminiscent of last night, except this time you’re the one who’s going to make a move. Golden eyes meet yours as you whisper, “And I kissed you back.” Softly, you pull him into another electrifying kiss. This time you’re sure that it’s your heart and not Denki’s quirk causing the sensation. The rich, earthy scent of the ground after it rains for the first time in a long time surrounds you.

“Wait does that mean that you like me too?” Denki asks as you pull away.

“No, it means I like kissing random guys whenever I can,” you say sarcastically. Before he can say anything or take your comment seriously, you add, “Of course it means I like you!”

Denki pulls you in for another kiss. It’s slow and you greedily take as much as you can. Before lightheadedness can set in, you both break apart.

“You know,” you say nonchalantly, “You’re not supposed to be walking for a while longer. Maybe you can stay here and we can cuddle or something?” Denki flops next to you and pulls you close.

“I think I can do that.”

A/N: instead of starting a Denki multichapter thing, I went through my WIPs and found an idea I hadn’t touched in a while :x

@kiliakit @redbeanteax @burnedbyshoto @hisoknen @secondhand-trash @bratwritings @ttamaki @tomurasprincess @bakugous-forehead @jojosmilktea

#bnha imagines #kaminari #kaminari x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #sparky birthday

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linkspooky · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Do you think that one day, Deku's flaws will have consequences? You pointed out that Shigaraki always face consequences for them, so in your opinion, do you think the manga could lead to something more equal on this? I know he is the Hero and all, but wouldn't it undermind the whole thing if in the end he just ignores the society's problems by just pushing heroism as the miracle solution?

Good question, anon. Let’s take a more serious look at Deku’s flaws. Deku so far has two main flaws.

Self-Harming - Deku has consistently valued himself less than others. His way of saving others almost always includes breaking his own body, and when you consider how low Deku’s self esteem is and how he was constantly told he would never be good enough to be a hero growing up this pattern of behavior borders on self-harming.

Hero Worship - Deku doesn’t question anything about hero society, which makes him incredibly naive and unaware of what’s going on in the world around him. Deku hasn’t done anything yet to seperate himself from being just another All Might Wannabe. Deku wants to save people, but doesn’t really even know what saving people means.

Deku doesn’t care if he gets hurt, and Deku doesn’t sympathize with villains, even ones who have sympathetic reasons for their actions, and this has led to Deku running off without thinking to try to fight Shigaraki to the death.

1. Self Harm

So one possible interpretation of Deku’s habits of breaking his body when trying to save people is that he’s internalized the idea that without a quirk, he can’t become a hero. Everything that other people including bullies like Bakugo told him when he was younger, that he’s worthless because he was born quirkless, that he can’t become a hero, over and over again is still inside of him.

Even what All Might tells him at first is a repettition of this idea. Deku can only be a hero if he’s strong. What’s most important to becoming a hero is strength, and having a strong quirk. Even though All Might eventually opens up the path for Deku being a hero, he only lets him after he proves his strength. Deku has to reach a certain power threshold before he’s even allowed to be at the starting lines.

Every single character in class UA is hardworking, but Deku is especially characterized as being OBSESSED with training, and also being the one who pushes himself to such extremes that his body is constantly on the verge of breaking.

Deku as a character is constantly told how worthless he is, because he wasn’t born with a quirk, because he’s borrowing someone else’s power, because he didn’t deserve to succeed All Might. Deku’s response to this has always been to try to prove his worth by pushing himself.

Deku’s very unhealthy idea of what a hero is, also resembles what All Might told him in the first chapter. That heroes have to risk their lives in incredibly risky ways like this in order to walk the walk. Deku has always worshipped All Might’s way of always sacrificing himself without realizing what absolute havoc All Might wreaked on ihs body.

Deku’s habit of breaking himself has shown to have had some consequences so far. It made his mom cry. He was warned that he would do permanent damage to his left arm if he ever suffered a serious break like that again and would even eventually lose it. There’s also All Might’s early forced retirement which happened because he kept on going when everyone told him to stop, which is a possible future for Deku if he doesn’t seriously change his ways. However, there is no lasting consequence yet.

Another thing that’s important about Deku’s character is that he wants to be a hero so badly, and yet doesn’t really seem to know what kind of hero he wants to be.

Deku so far has imitated All Might in a very empty way, without ever thinking that the heroes he loves so much might be flawed, or really understanding how many mistakes All Might made. His hero worship blinds him to the hero’s flaws, and when he’s confronted with All Might’s mistakes he’s often completely blindsided.

All Might keeps secrets from him pretty regularly, and Deku just doesn’t question him because he’s just so busy in his hero worship. Due to that a lot of Deku’s progression as a character has stagnated. Even his idea of what a hero is, is extremely vague at best.

Deku says he wants to be the greatest hero who saves everyone. Much like Mirio who wanted to be a hero who saved a million people. However, what does that mean? How is Deku going to surpass All Might. He hasn’t really thought about these things yet, or what kind of hero he’s going to be.

Because Deku can’t see the flaws in the hero system he can’t really be better than the previous generation of heroes.

2. Self Destruction

Deku has a critical lack of self awareness. His goal is to save everyone, but he doesn’t really think of what that means. Aren’t villains in need of saving too? This relates back to the Dabi quote.

Who is it that really needs saving?

Villains need to be stopped, but what creates those villains?

Deku’s sympathies always lie with the pro-heroes but he’s so wrapped up in hero worship he doesn’t really think about their actions. Remember, Deku’s last big fight against this was against Chisaki a child abuser to protect Eri, an abused child.

Eri doesn’t just resemble Shigaraki. Eri is Shigaraki. They’re both children who were kidnapped by crimelords when they were young, told that they were monsters because of their quirks, and then experimented on. Shigaraki can’t consent to being experimented on because he was kidnapped since he was five and groomed all along with the intent that one day he would have this surgery performed on him so he could inherit AFO.

Ujiko commits horrible grievous experimentation on Shigaraki, and then says he’s doing this all for Shigaraki’s sake, that he’s given him everything. He’s supposed to sound like an abusive parent here.

So this time rather than fighting to save Eri, Deku is fighting against Eri’s foil, but all grown up, with about zero self awareness. What allowed Deku to win in the fight against Chisaki was his ability to see the good in Eri, and fight against Chisaki’s insistence that she was a monster because she was born with a dangerous quirk. He humanized Eri.

But, his response to Shigaraki is consistent dehumanization. Deku fought against Chisaki’s dehumanization of Eri, but is on the side of people who say things like this about Shigaraki.

It’s once again this blind loyalty and inability to question what we see is an extremely flawed system. Who is it in this situation that really needs saving? Endeavor? Gran Torino?

Gran Torino is partially at fault for the creation of Shigaraki, because if he had stopped Nana Shimura from abandoning her son, or even checked up on Koutarou and Tenko just once this entire situation could have been avoided.

It all goes back to Dabi’s question. Who is the one who needs saving here?

The biggest victims of the hero system, the ones most in need of saving are the villains, but Deku can’t see that, so he can’t really do anything to help them right now.

And yes. Deku should save Shigaraki. That’s the point of their foiling. They’re both Jungian Shadows of each other.

In Jungian psychology, the shadow, (also known as id, shadow aspect, or shadow archetype) is either an unconscious aspect of the personality that the conscious ego does not identify in itself; or the entirety of the unconscious, i.e., everything of which a person is not fully conscious. In short, the shadow is the unknown side.

Shigaraki is Deku’s foil and opposite, but they’re also like... the exact same dude.

The fact that Shigaraki started in the same place as Deku, that what he really needed was for someone to tell him that he could be a hero too, isn’t just there to be sad and tragic. It means that deep down, Shigaraki still wants someone to tell him he can be a hero, to show him another path other than being a villain, the same way All Might once told Deku he could be a hero.

The shadow is a part of yourself. The shadow is who you are deep down inside. That’s why a shadow can’t be killed. It’s the same thing as self destruction.

A shadow has to be reconciled. Part of self improvement is just learning to accept and look at the worst parts of yourselves in order to move on from them. You don’t get better by denying or remaining ignorant of the problem. Deku has consistently refused to even acknowledge Shigaraki.

Deku has said I can never understand you, we’re nothing alike, and yet we as the audience know they’re like the exact same guy. There’s no point in setting up such a parallel unless it’s going to be paid off in some way.

Deku’s not trying to accept his shadow though, he’s fighting with everything he has to destroy his shadow, and that shouldn’t work.

Metaphorically.

It’s like Deku is trying to destroy himself. Which as I’ve said above Deku has a tendency to be self destructive. Star Wars doesn’t end with Luke killing Darth Vader, it ends with Luke reconciling with Anakin his father.

Deku is warned several times in the last chapter not to charge straight ahead at Shigaraki, not to fight him on his own. We even see Bakugo in the flashback talk about how Deku doesn’t consider himself in the equation, or think about protecting himself at all which is why he destroys his own body so much.

So, if even Bakugo is like Deku you’re going to get yourself killed, and every adult around him is yelling at Deku to run away because he might get himself killed, and Deku himself thinks. I don’t care what happens to me I’m going to destroy Shigaraki no matter what. Then, there should be a conseqeunce here.

Because this. This is self destruction. Deku’s trying to kill the guy that is... literally just him.

In other words if everybody if yelling Deku don’t do the thing. And then Deku just, does the thing anyway. There should be a consequence! Deku’s goal isn’t to destroy Shigaraki, or to kill him to put a stop to him, it’s reconciliation with his jungian shadow. It should be to become the hero who saves everyone, by telling Shigaraki the words he wanted to hear for a long time that he can be a hero too. FInally passing on the words All Might gave him to someone else, and making up for the previous generation’s mistakes with Shigaraki.

So, not only is Deku attempting to do the wrong thing. He’s also fighting in the wrong way (by hurting himself again).

Which means, Deku probably shouldn’t win this fight. A good consequence would be Deku losing here, even with the last minute power up, and breaking his entire body trying to defeat Shigaraki.

Characters are most interesting when they fail, and Deku should fail here.

#Anonymous #deku #izuku midoriya #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #tenko shimura #mha meta #my hero academia meta #my hero academia theory #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #metasks

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 1

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let's try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We're living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn't actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Pining. I was pining after Stark and it made me upset. I thought I was better than that. Better than acting the part of a lovesick puppy, begging for scraps of attention- a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, a blanket thrown over me in my sleep. Even if he was my Mount Olympus, I wasn't exactly on board with starting the whole damn journey in the first place.

Most of all, I hated being a cliché. I tried my best to avoid showing how I felt and with time, I think I excelled at it. I am really good with things if I really put my mind to it. Was it a blessing, or was it a curse? Only the future will tell. I try not to think about it, as I prefer not to stress out too much. Peter was the anxious kid and I was the calm one. I was the Ying to his Yang. He flipped his shit often and I always calmed him down and cleaned up after him. No complaints there, Pete is pure and precious and I would kill everybody and then myself if he actually got hurt.

I'm only a year older than him and that year feels like an uncrossable bridge to me. We get along like a house on fire and I delight in the way he starts smiling when we're paired together for a project. Deep inside I'm sure he thinks of me as one of his best friends, his homies but-and there's always a but-I can't reciprocitate that. He goes to decathlon after school with his wholesome BFF duo, I go to a local dive bar with a fake ID I'd made sometime when I was about 15.

Peter has everything I wish I've ever had. Good for him. I'm not going to mess that up, no matter how much my angst demands I throw a tantrum and become, like, a supervillain or something.

I banter, instead. I chit-chat. I laugh and I repeatedly make a joke out of myself. Nobody suspects a thing, and I'm not surprised. People always see what they want to see. I've been the weird loner since middle school. Not the sad kind, of course, my pride wouldn't let me. I'm too good at things to be completely ignored. Teachers adore me, the event planning committee approaches me every year with tentative pleas for advice. The list goes on and on; what they don't understand is that it's just High School. Another year and I'll be out of there and nobody will be wiser.

I feel like a liar every time I'm excited. Because I'm not that - I don't care about their stupid field trips or collaborative projects. My mind is five steps and two hops ahead of that bullshit. It has to be or I just won't make it in the world.

"Parker-pen, Mr. Stark. G'day, sirs," I nodded, entering the lab, looking straight ahead. They both were hunched over... Something vaguely mechanical and I was terribly, horribly hungover. Saturday night was Science night but I'd gone to bed around 2PM after a party ran way too late.

"Hi," and "Powerpuff girl," came from them respectively, and they didn't even lift their heads.

I wondered if I could just skedaddle and leave them to their big brain time. "Is this a bad time? I can come tomorrow instead," I immediately regretted speaking, even to my own ears my voice sounds scratchy.

"No, actually, Dr. Ban-Bruce-wanted to talk to you," Peter mumbled out half-coherently. Tony kept ignoring me and I was fine with that. The less temptation I have the less trouble there will be.

"I'm not playing with his zucchini again," I groaned, causing the intricate pile of metal to squeak sadly as Pete tripped over his own damn body, jostling the prototype in the process. I could have sworn the room got several degrees hotter from the boy's blush alone.

Tony cackled, shuffling away from the newly ruined prototype. "He won the damn contest, you should've seen the judges faces," The engineer's grin threatened to split his face in half. I poked at my phone in muted interest. "Hold up, Friday has a recording. I definitely recorded the thing."

A holo-screen popped up. Tranquil scenes of a local fair, gourds and other assorted vegetables of various grotesque sizes were scattered throughout the square. An unmistakable mop of curly greying hair posed proudly next to a zucchini half the size of Hulk - I was fairly certain genetically engineering the plant was cheating and warned him so but somehow Banner managed to persuade the judges into letting him participate, and ultimately win, the competition for the Biggest Zucchini. Some of them were quite shocked at the size of that thing and well - well, their glances were quite contemplative to say the least.

"Damn, Tony, that blonde chick's face tells me all I need to know," I gave a lopsided smirk in the engineer's general direction. That was our thing, you see? He called me these ridiculous cutesy nicknames and asked me about getting my nails done or going to the mall and I'd make salacious comments and go on an occasional flirtatious spree. That was comfortable. We both enjoyed making Peter blush and giggle like the little schoolboy that he was.

"Our Brucie bear is a freak, don't let him tell you any different, Princess," Tony winked at me.

"Oh, I know all about it, Tones," I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter groan and palm his face. I briefly bumped my knuckles to Tony's outstretched hand and made my way to the adjacent lab that hosted the second resident crazy scientist.

"Bruce?"

"Oh, hi there, come on in," He smiled warmly at me and I relaxed, shrugging off the tension in my limbs that seemed to appear every time Tony was around me. Banner's soft, friendly nature always made me feel welcomed and appreciated.

We made small talk as I threw on a lab coat and some protective glasses and discarded my bag in the far corner, away from any possible explosions. I congratulated him on his recent victory - here is when I say that despite what most will say, Banner has a serious competitive mean streak and isn't afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to matters of his personal pride.

That's what makes us alike, I think. I have too much dignity and self-respect to walk around Tony with stars in my eyes and hang around his neck like yesterday's tie.

The quiet, even pace of doing lab work made me completely lose track of time. Some time passed as I felt the crick in my neck become noticeable, and the deep ache in my calves from standing and dancing yesterday worsened. I hopped onto the nearest table, hunched over a tablet, eyes skimming over research articles - most of it didn't register at all in the wake of a dull throb behind my temples. My hair limply hung over my face - I had to wash it to get rid of the stench-hard liquor and cigarettes - but I was way too lazy to style it properly.

I ignored the swaying strands until a large palm gently tucked them behind my ear, a white lab coat coming into my field of view. "You okay?" Banner's quiet voice interrupted my reading. I lifted eyes enough to see he was wearing a dorky button-up in some gross shade of blue under the lab coat. His eyes were affectionate behind thinly rimmed glasses.

"Rough Friday night?" He questioned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm hungover as fuck." There was no point in hiding the obvious; I'm sure the bags under my eyes already had tattled on me.

He chuckled, too, leaning his hip against the table, one broad arm coming to wrap around me in a hug. Usually he wasn't so touchy-feely; but I wasn't complaining. Banner was really, really warm. "I'll spare you the lecture on underage drinking," He said with another chuckle.

"Yeah, it's pretty pointless. You'd be three years too late."

A deep sigh left him, both of his arms wrapping around me in a comfortable embrace. I rested my chin on his shoulder, trying my best to really avoid showing how touch-starved I was. I was a hundred percent sure they all figured out my family life was difficult; the last thing I needed was their pity.

"Y'know, we should sit down and talk someday," He said after a brief moment of hesitation. "About your future. College, maybe?"

I gave a non-committal hum, basking in the warmth of the hug, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes - behind the glass divide, I could faintly distinguish Tony's and Peter's shapes, still bent over that bench the pile of metal.

"You have a lot of potential," Banner continued, his tone developing a gently admonishing hint. "I understand if you want to take some time off from your studies but I'd rather you succeed and not let all that potential go to waste," He finished, patting me on the back with a gentle hand.

I tried not to preen under his touch. "Are you attempting to guilt-trip me over a party, doctor Banner?" I teased him, expecting the smile that I felt being hidden by my hair. Sometimes I felt that I could read the man like an open book, he was so earnest about his interactions.

"I just - we want you to stay safe, okay? Don't blow your future for a little bit of fun," He shrugged carefully.

"Okay, Bruce," I simply replied, meaning it this time

He kept hugging me, running his hand over my back absentmindedly. Probably thinking about his recent science bender. I wasn't upset: my own brain tended to get tangled in personal projects, too. I had only one complaint and it was that the cuddle was making me sleepy.

I yawned, startling the man. Pulling away from the hug wasn't really an option. He was broad and quite strong, probably courtesy of the Hulk and radiation in his blood.

"Why don't we put you in a guest room for tonight?" He inquired and I nodded. "Call your parents for me, okay?"

"My mother is in Vancouver for the week and I doubt she would care anyway," I rolled my eyes. "She's in the middle of some shitstorm with OsCorp and their marketing department." If anything, I was grateful my mother was preoccupied with her job. Being around her was like hanging out on top of an iceberg in the far end of the ocean.

I felt Bruce's frown. His body tensed briefly, blink and you'll miss the hunch of his shoulders. "What about your dad?"

I cringed. "He's been in Ibiza since the season opened, no doubt snorting miles of coke and... " I hesitated. "You can guess the rest."

My dad was kind of a dick, but I don't blame him at all for being the way he is. My parents have been married for twenty years. They were happy, once - I saw their college pictures with my mother's bright smiles and bushy hair, and my dad's terrible fashion sense and their dog, a funny little runt with an atrocious name. Then mother had me and for a while, they were happy too, but it lasted about until she landed her first prospective job. Kind of cliché.

Bruce sighed again. "Okay. You hungry?"

"No, I'm not going near food until tomorrow. Nu-uh," I fake-retched next to his ear, making Bruce shiver and playfully pinch my side.

"It'll help with your hangover. Doctor's advice."

"You're not even that kind of doctor," I laughed, very gently poking him back, somewhere around his stomach. He squirmed.

"I have seven PhDs," Bruce smiled as he rested his chin on top of my head as he adjusted his torso to prevent my fingers from reaching his ticklish spots. I poked him again in retaliation, fully enjoying the snort and squirm I caused. Soft™. "Let's go get you settled in," Bruce, seemingly without any difficulty, picked me up, propping me against his hip like a toddler. It probably looked awkward but what the hell, I haven't been carried around since I can remember myself. My legs wrapped around his hips for balance, butt resting on his forearm.

"You're a showoff," I couldn't help but snort, getting a lopsided smirk in return.

He made his way over to the elevator with me dangling and examining my nails in an expectant fashion. Tony's jokes aside, I really enjoyed getting them done and weird colors were a quest of entertainment for me. I obviously couldn't have them very long because I worked in a lab so I chose outrageous prints and decorations instead. This week, each of my nails had a different style - thankfully my aesthetician was professional enough to make it look somewhat put together even if it took a good chunk of my allowance and an hour long Uber ride to get to her salon.

I noticed the dimmed lights in Tony's lab and none of Peter's usual mess scattered on the tables, figuring he'd already left. Stark himself stood propped against a table, watching something, smoothie in hand.

For only a brief moment, I let my eyes rake over his body, his beautiful, sculpted physique hugged by a pair of fitted jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee. Tony's handsomeness wasn't obvious, it wasn't in-your-face kind of appearance like Captain America's, but the engineer was built sturdy and his arms - the only bare part of him - were riddled with scars. He used his strong, bulky body for work.

I turned away before I got too ahead of myself. Bruce smelled like lab equipment and rubbing alcohol, something that made me sober up and snap out of my daydream before Stark took notice and started teasing me about ogling him. My once-over lasted barely three seconds yet with Tony's genius, I always had to be on my toes.

I saw movement in my peripheral. Banner waved before entering the elevator - at Tony, probably, so I looked back, seeing the man watching us, content replaced with a contemplating frown. I waved at him, resting my cheek on Bruce's shoulder. "Tony's having a big mood," I noted quietly in the scientist's ear.

"You know Tony," Bruce sighed, adjusting his hold on me as the car ascended to the housing floors. "His brain runs a mile a minute and he can't make sense of it for the biggest part. Give him some time and he'll be back to his annoying self."

I didn't see Tony as annoying in any way, but then again, I was severely biased. The billionaire was quirky venturing into absurd but also clever and brilliant.

We had reached our destination and Bruce carefully set me down on my feet once the door to my room was open. A large queen bed, TV and another door to an adjacent bathroom. It was really simple but luxurious nonetheless - I had the exact same carpet at home, having heard my mother bitch about it's cost after seeing me spill soda on it way too many times.

"I'll let you get settled in. Ask Friday if you need something," Bruce awkwardly shuffled his feet, taking off his glasses and briefly examining them before putting them back on again. "Breakfast here is on the 74th floor starting around 7AM, someone will probably get you around nine if you sleep in," He finished, giving a shy tilt of his lips.

"Thanks, Brucie-bear," The nickname easily slipped from my lips. I didn't resist the urge to hug the kind scientist, quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, delightfully sighing when he immediately returned the gesture.

"Good night, Princess," I had to suppress a happy squeak when the man kissed my forehead before retreating and closing the door behind himself. A quick shower and a quest to find a power outlet to plug my charger into preceded my less than graceful flop into the bed. It felt like sleeping on a cloud, honestly, it had nothing on my mother's orthopaedic memory foam mattresses. I passed out faster than I’d ever had.

#Bun writes #party favours #Tony Stark x y/n #Tony Stark x reader #Bruce Banner x reader #Bruce Banner x y/n #Stephen Strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #We're going to Hell y'all

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roman-sing-despacito · 4 years ago

Text

El amanecer (The Sunrise)

Soulmate September: Day 1 - Your Soulmate’s name is written on your wrist or palm. @tsshipmonth2020

Pairing: DLAMP

Summary: Logan works in his mamá’s coffee shop, El amanecer, and there he meets quite a few people. But, on a particular Saturday, he meets some of the most important people: his soulmates

Summary 2: Patton spills his horchata, Roman is late to work, Virgil brings an umbrella, Logan does his job, and Janus is Remy’s coffee boy

Patton scanned over the menu one more time before practically skipping up to the counter. Once he got there, a middle aged woman smiled warmly at him and positioned herself behind the cash register.

“!Buenos días! Welcome to El amanecer. What can I get you?”

The woman’s smile was contagious, and even though he was half-asleep and slightly cranky, Patton couldn't help but return it. “Hi! Can I get a mango horchata, please?”

The woman nodded and went a little farther down the counter to prepare the drink, leaving Patton fiddling with the many bracelets decorated along his wrist.

“So, young man,” The woman looked up at the high-schooler before focusing on the drink again. “how did you hear about my shop? Me and my son have been trying to figure out how to spread the word more quickly. Especially since we just opened up last month.”

Patton’s smile grew as he recalled how his friend Emile recommended this coffee shop to him a week ago. The two were in math class and Emile had mentioned that she had passed by the new shop on her way to school. She had wanted to go with Patton, but her debate team had rescheduled their meeting to today.

“Well…” Pat smiled to himself, “I heard about it through a friend.” The woman nodded and handed him the horchata. After paying, he left a five dollar bill in the jar labelled: TIPS next to the register and turned to leave before looking back. “Thank you Miss...?”

She laughed. “Please, call me Quetzali! No need for formalities.” Patton nodded with a grin. “Well then thank you, Quetzali. I needed a nice drink to wake me up! I have a project due in a week and I’m afraid I’ve been procrastinating it longer than I should have.” He smiled sheepishly and then waved goodbye.

“Good luck with the project! And hopefully I will see you soon.” She winked.

And as Patton closed the door, he heard Quetzali shout, “!Mi amor! Come take over the front, I need to—”

Assuming she wasn’t talking to him, Patton took another sip as he walked down the street. He was so busy brainstorming ideas for his science project that he didn’t notice a mop of red hair running straight at him.

“HEY WATCH OUT—!!!”

The two collided, knocking both boys off their feet.

Patton groaned as he rubbed his head, trying to soothe the growing throb. “I am so so sorry! Are you okay?” The redhead helped Patton up.

“Oh uh…” He glanced down to see his spilled horchata a few feet away, “Well I’m okay kiddo! But my drink sure isn’t…” He trailed off with a small pout.

The stranger grimaced. “Gosh I really am sorry about that. I’m running late for work and I do not want to be late for the second day in a row!”

The two were so engrossed in one another that neither of them noticed how it had started to lightly drizzle.

“It’s alright! No harm done—uh...what’s your name kiddo?”

The redhead laughed, “I’m pretty sure I’m older than you.”

He held out a hand to Patton, “Name’s Adams, Roman Adams. And I think you fell for me.” He winked.

And neither noticed the purple-haired teen walking up to them.

Patton’s hand froze mid-handshake. “Um, what?” Did he hear that right?

Not expecting that reaction, Roman quickly dropped his hand to his side, “Oh. Sorry, I can be a bit too forward sometimes.”

“No! No, don't worry kid—Uh, Roman. I just…” Patton trailed off not really believing that he finally met one of his soulmates. “Um, I’m Patton.”

Unfortunately Roman was quick to worry, and he felt as though he made things weird. He wanted nothing more than to leave the (in Roman’s opinion) awkward situation.

Until Patton’s name clicked.

“Wait. Your name...? You’re Patton?”

The two looked at each other in awe. Roman swiftly pulled up his long sleeves, ignoring the rain running down his now exposed arm, while Patton pushed up the bracelets that covered his soulmates’ names.

And sure enough, starting from his inner wrist, Roman’s soulmarks read: Patton Virgil Logan Janus in a variety of colors.

Patton gasped as Roman read over his soulmate's arm, the colors for each name matching: Roman Virgil Logan Janus

Roman made eye contact with Patton’s teary eyes and the two quickly engulfed each other in a hug. “We found each other! Oh my goodness gracious!!!”

With a joyous laugh Roman looked up at Patton, “I’m sorry about your drink.”

“Roman! I would spill a thousand drinks if it meant I got to meet one of my soulmates!”

It was then that the two finally noticed that it was raining. And for some reason, they were no longer getting wet.

“Uh...what if you met another soulmate?” Patton looked sideways to see someone about his and Roman’s age, holding a big umbrella over all of them.

Roman gave the new stranger a small grin, “Do you mean..?”

The stranger shuffled awkwardly before gesturing to his arm not holding the jet black umbrella. “You can check for yourselves. I’m Virgil.”

Patton eased out of Roman’s hug and gently lifted Virgil’s grey jacket sleeve. He stopped once all of the names were visible: Roman Patton Logan Janus once again, the soulmarks were in an array of colors

Patton squealed in happiness and Roman lightly smirked, “How lovely it is to meet you, Dark and Stormy Night.”

Virgil couldn’t help the small smile that grew the longer they looked at each other. “Wow, Princey. Wonder where you came up with that one?” He muttered sarcastically.

Which Roman was quick to return with a playful scoff, “Well seeing as you have saved Patton and I from the rain, I think it fits perfectly.”

Patton smiled as two of his soulmates laughed, he bounced closer to Virgil and held his arms out in a hug. “Hug time?” He asked excitedly.

Virgil’s smile dropped. “I don’t…” He fidgeted with the end of his jacket, he didn't want to be rude to his soulmate. Especially as they had just met.

Patton let his arms drop. “You can say no, Virgil.” His warm smile calmed the purple haired boy down a bit.

“Are you sure…?”

Roman smiled. “Of course! We would never force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.” Virgil’s whisper was returned with a nod and a smile.

“Now Princey...I think you owe Pat here a new drink.” The trio glanced at the spilled horchata laying on the sidewalk.

Roman was quick to bow deeply, “I would be honored to accompany my soulmates to retrieve Patton’s desired drink!”

“Wait! Don’t you have work, Roman?”

Roman waved off Patton’s concern. “I just met two of my soulmates! I’m sure Thomas will understand if I called in explaining the situation.”

“Well if you’re sure…”

With that the three walked back to El amanecer. All the while talking about their lives, and joking around with each other.

~*~*~*~*~

Janus groaned as his phone rang for the third time. He didn’t even have to look at the caller ID. “What do you want now, Remy?” He snapped.

“Chill babes. Geez, can’t a BFF call xir friend to say hello?”

Janus sighed in frustration, “Remy, if you don’t tell me your new order in five seconds, I am hanging up and not getting your stupid coffee. Everyone knows you could use less caffeine anyway.”

“HEY!”

“Five seconds~”

“Okay! Okay, geez.”

“Four seconds~”

“Sooo, I made up my mind and I just want a plain cappuccino!”

Janus stopped walking. “You, what?”

“Plain cappuccino.”

Janus felt an eye twitch, “Remy. You had me memorize an entire order with a whole bunch of extra syrups and toppings twice and now you’re telling me to forget all of that!?”

“Listen babes, I don’t choose the coffee. The coffee chooses me.”

“You know what? Fine. You’re lucky I care about you.”

“Awww does Jan-Jan actually have a heart?” Remy teased through the phone. Xe knew Janus only cared about a select few people, but the few he does care for, he cares for deeply.

“Oh, would you look at that! I’m already at El amanecer! Bye Remy.” He hung up on Remy’s cackling laughter.

Janus opened the door as a ghost of a smile appeared, “What a lunatic.”

He got in line behind a rather attractive redhead, and he couldn’t help but tune into the redhead and the cute barista’s conversation. What? He was bored, sue him.

~*~*~*~*~

“Salutations, welcome to El amanecer. What would you like?” Despite being flustered by the redheaded customer, Logan kept his voice neutral and ensured he had an air of professionalism around him. Well...as much professionalism as a 16 year-old boy could muster.

“Hey there! Um, can I get one mango horchata, one vanilla bean frappuccino, and a strawberry agua—Uh, agua...fresca, please?” Roman cringed a little at his slip up.

Logan totaled up the order and gave a small nod. “Of course. Wait one moment please.” He went to prepare the drinks, and Roman saw this as the perfect opportunity to make some small chat with the dashing blonde barista.

“Today’s been a crazy day. I was late to work, and in rushing to get to my bus stop I ran into this guy. Turns out, he’s my soulmate!”

Logan didn’t look Roman in the eyes, “Oh?” He replied, seemingly disinterested. But really, he was a bit dejected that the redhead had already found his soulmate.

“Yeah! And after we found out, another guy walked up to us and we found out that he was another one of our soulmates!”

Logan’s shock was hidden by him turning his head away from Roman. “Oh, wow. The odds of that are infinitesimal.”

“Infinity—What?”

Logan placed the horchata and agua fresca in front of Roman before turning away again. “Infinitesimal. It means really small.”

Roman nodded, “Oh, cool. So...what’s your name? I’m Roman.”

Logan’s grip on the frappuccino faltered and the coffee crashed to the floor. He jumped, startled, and hurried to clean it up.

Logan looked up, his face flushed when Roman exclaimed, “Oh! Sorry if I’m distracting you.”

The blonde shook his head. “No, no. You’re fine...Roman. I was uh, surprised is all.”

“Why?” The confusion in his eyes was too adorable for the barista to handle.

Logan looked away, focusing on cleaning up the rest of the spilled coffee. “My name is Logan.” He figured if they were soulmates, Roman would have a similar reaction. And if he had no reaction, then Logan could forget this embarrassing moment ever happened.

He stood up and looked hesitantly in Roman’s eyes. But the hesitance was quickly replaced with hope, as a wide smile lit up the redhead’s face.

“You mean we’re…?”

“Soulmates.” Logan confirmed.

The two rolled up their sleeves and on Logan’s arm were brightly colored soulmarks: Roman Janus Patton Virgil

“Wow.” Roman let out a breathy laugh. “Three soulmates in one day?”

Logan sent him a small smile. “By any chance, are any of the other names on my arm the two people you met?”

“Yep!” Roman beamed, “Virgil and Patton are over there.” He pointed to the far left corner of the coffee shop where a bubbly, black haired teen sat in a round table laughing with a purple haired boy.

The words; “They’re beautiful.” slipped out.

Logan wanted to smack himself.

Thankfully though, Roman only smiled. “Yeah, they are.”

After preparing the vanilla bean frappuccino again, Logan nodded in thanks as Roman left a tip.

The two stared at each other, both not knowing what to say, until the sound of someone clearing their throat caused them to jump.

An amused looking brunette laughed at their startled expressions. “My apologies. But I couldn’t help but overhear…” The stranger shifted uncomfortably before cautiously rolling up his sleeve, his tan skin clearly showed: Roman Logan Patton Virgil

“I’m Janus.” The brunette gave them a small smile.

“¡Ay Dios mío!” Logan exclaimed quietly.

Roman was smiling widely at this point, “We all met on the same day!”

“Well,” Janus glanced at the table in the far-left corner. “We haven’t all met.”

Logan nodded enthusiastically, “But we will. After I take your order Janus, I’m sure mamá will give me the day off.”

Janus shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. I only came here to get my friend Remy a cappuccino. And with how much xe pesters me about my soulmates, I’m sure xe will understand why I didn’t deliver it to xem.”

Roman bounced happily, eager for all of his soulmates to meet one another.

With a small nod at Janus, Logan turned away from his soulmates. “¡Mamá! Necesito el día libre por favor.”

Quetzali came out of the back of the shop, looking questioningly at her son. “¿Por qué?”

Logan smiled as he gestured to the two boys in front of the counter. “Porque mamá, quiero conocer a mis almas gemelas.”

Quetzali’s face morphed from concern to pure happiness in the span of a few seconds. “Wow! It’s nice to meet you boys!”

Roman and Janus smiled, giving Quetzali a nod of respect. “Y usted, señora.”

All three of them looked at Janus in surprise.

“What?” Janus huffed, “I didn’t take three years of spanish for nothing.”

They all laughed and Quetzali ushered her son out from behind the counter. “Go meet them, mi amor. Have some fun.” Logan hugged her before joining Janus and Roman in walking up to their other soulmates.

Virgil groaned as he spotted Roman. “Finally! Did you get lost on your way across the shop?”

“Nope!” Roman stepped aside, letting Janus and Logan into view. “However, I did get lost in our soulmates eyes.”

Patton jumped up excitedly while Virgil eyed the new boys. “Hi! I’m Patton!!!”

Logan held out a hand which Pat shook vigorously, “I am Logan.” He nodded at Virgil who sent a peace sign in return. “Sup I’m Virgil.”

Janus took Patton’s hand from Logan and pressed a small kiss to the back of it. “Hello Patton, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He turned to Virgil with a smile, “You as well Virgil.”

With a blushing face Patton offered them all a seat.

“So...this is kind of crazy huh.”

The purple haired boy snorted, “It’s more than crazy, Pat. But...I’m glad to finally meet all of you.”

Roman nodded, his eyes constantly drifting to each of his soulmates.

“Indeed,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “I have never heard of multiple soulmates all meeting on the same day before. The chances that we did are—”

“Infinitesimal.” Janus interrupted.

Logan’s face went aflame. “You actually heard Roman’s and I entire conversation?”

“You have a nice voice Lo.” Janus winked, causing the barista’s blush to deepen.

Virgil pretended to gag, “If all of you are going to be this mushy, I gotta go.”

They all laughed and spent the entire day getting to know one another. The chances of them meeting the way they did? Infinitesimal. Their love for one another? Infinite and unmeasurable, especially as the years went by.

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absoluteyoongit · 4 years ago

Text

the morning routine.

you add a cute new neighbor too your morning routine // neighbors!au // Jungkook x reader // fluff // wc: 1.6k // warnings: i think someone swears once // barely edited // hope you enjoy :)

You never talked to your quiet neighbor, despite the fact that you saw him every single day.

It seemed like your work schedules were similar because, like clockwork, the two of you would exit your apartment doors at the exact same time.

It startled you at first when he moved in. You always had early mornings. You loved waking up with the sounds of birds singing and the rays of first light peeking through your blinds. With the ease of morning, the opening shift of the day at your work was an easy commitment.

Because of these early mornings, you normally woke up alone, walked out of the apartment complex alone, rode the subway on a nearly empty train, and made it to your job before your boss even opened the store.

This had been your routine since you moved into the city almost a full year ago and you were content spending the mornings alone. It was peaceful and calming.

That was until your neighbor moved in a few weeks ago.

He was cute with curly long hair and a mole below his lips. The thing that drew you in the most about him was his large doe eyes that seemed anxious the first time you made contact with him.

It had been the first Monday after you noticed movers dropping off boxes inside the apartment next door. You had gone through your normal routine, waking up with the birds and making some coffee to go, when you exited your apartment. The loud slam of a door broke you out of your meditative routine.

You snapped your eyes up to the noise and they widened when they came in contact with those nervous doe eyes.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, his hand still gripping the doorknob, before he sped off past you and took the stairs down. You lived on the 9th floor.

Every day after that first encounter was the same. You would wake up, follow your routine, and have an awkward staring contest with your cute neighbor for 30 seconds before he ran past you to take the stairs down. He must have an athlete's stamina or something.

The inevitable morning staring contest that your neighbor would always start and then lose happened every day for a whole month. The whole interaction made you feel very weird and invasive at first but you were here first and this was your morning routine. You were not going to change and if he felt that uncomfortable he would have to change his routine.

Even with your resignation to ignore your nervous neighbor, you couldn't help to look forward to the new part of your routine. He was just another new constant in your life, even if you didn't know his name.

After another month of eye contact, you had grown fond of this barely there-stranger. The more you stared the more you noticed things about him.

The way he looked like a deer stuck in headlights but always seemed to wear all black clothing with big chunky boots. Or the way he would slam his door shut every morning but never made a sound as he sped past you. Or how his soft facial features contrasted with the lean muscle that would sometimes peek out from his clothing .

He was an enigma, your neighbor and now you wished you knew his name.

Today marked the three month anniversary of your first encounter, not that you were keeping track, and you felt particularly extra positive this morning. There was a bounce in your step as you got dressed and made your usual coffee. You felt it in your bones: today was going to be a great day.

Right on schedule, you exited your apartment ready to continue with your favorite part of your morning routine.

Slam. With a beaming smile, you turned your head to meet his gaze only for it to immediately drop into a concerned frown.

It seemed as if someone was having the exact opposite morning as you.

Your eyes opted to scan his figure then lock onto his gaze. His curly hair was unkempt, dark circles rested under his eyes, the last few buttons of his shirt were undone, and one sleeve was cuffed while the other wasn't. Papers and wires spilled out of his work bag as he held a coffee mug to go. He still had those large doe eyes.

You felt the need to say something, anything but your voice caught in your throat as he darted past you, faster and clumsier than usual. He bumped into you as he moved passed and without so much as a sorry, he disappeared down the flight of stairs again.

That was unusual.

It slightly worried you, his disheveled state, but you barely knew him so it felt weird to dwell on it too much. You're sure he will be okay.

You were ready to head down the elevator when you noticed something small and brown on the floor. Crouching down to take a closer look you realized it was a wallet. Your neighbor's wallet.

You picked it up, carefully turning it over in your hands. He was definitely long gone by now. Hopefully, he didn't need it right now. You placed it in your own bag for safekeeping. You felt bad just leaving it on the floor.

Your little distraction only made you a few minutes late in your morning routine. You had made it to work on time versus early.

"Really Y/n? Out of all my employee's I never thought you would be the one to let me down. I can't believe you've done this."

Your boss's words made you roll your eyes, "C'mon Jin, I am really hurt. How can you say this about your favorite employee? Who else would do the morning shift with you? Yoongi? As if."

"Yah, just get to work," Jin snickered.

With that you got to work, attempting to forget about the wallet begging you to take a peek inside. You itched to even just know what his name was, surely he would have an ID, right?

On your lunch break, you stared at the worn leather wallet in your hand, smoothing over some of its cracks. "Oh fuck it."

With one final huff, you opened the wallet, eyes immediately landing on the ID in the clear pocket.

The same doe eyes looked back at you, stifling a giggle. He even looks surprised in photos. A warm feeling grew in your chest staring at your adorable neighbor.

You sighed and tore your eyes to look at more of the ID. Mouth twitching at the sight of his name finally revealed. Jeon Jungkook. Cute.

Feeling satisfied that you finally knew your shy neighbor's name, a just a little bit guilty you move to close the wallet. You hesitate, something colorful peeking out from one of the corners of the pockets.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you paused deciding whether or not to keep snooping around Jungkook's personal info. You knew his name now, he would know that you opened his wallet to see whose it was so what's the harm in poking around some more.

Excited, you flip open the wallet again and took the glittering card out of its slot. A shiny Charizard Pokémon card? You let out a huff in amusement, shaking your head. This guy was getting more and more interesting.

One thing led to another and you found more things that made you intrigued: a lone penny— which you could guess was lucky— a dried flower petal and a picture of him with two other guys. Their arms were around each other as they laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners.

The items made you smile, there was more to your shy neighbor and you definitely wanted to get to know Jeon Jungkook now.

The rest of your shift lasted forever. It was the first time you were racing to get home, rather than taking the usual pretty way back. You had something waiting for you at home, hopefully.

"Hey, Jungkook!"

Jungkook froze in the middle of unlocking his door as he slowly turned his head towards you. You smirk, waving his wallet back and forth in front of your face.

The tension in his face immediately disappeared. "Oh my god, thank you. I have been panicking all-day."

If at all possible, he looked worse than he did this morning. His hair was still unkempt and the dark circles were present. His shirt was buttoned now but a large stain near the collar suggested all the coffee he brought with him this morning didn't end up in his mouth. Still, the smile on his face now as you handed back his wallet was the best thing you have ever seen. You wanted more.

"Seriously– thank you again...uh?"

"Y/n," you fill in for him, "The neighbor that wakes up at the crack of dawn with you every morning. It's nice to meet you Jungkook." You reach out your hand.

His smile grew even wider, showing off his cute large front teeth, as he grasped your hand and shook. "Nice to meet you too."

The two of you kept holding on as another staring contest ensued. This time the crinkles in your eyes overshadowed the months of wide unsure ones.

Jungkook coughed, letting go of your hand to scratch his head. "Uhm– sorry for acting weird. I am just shy, I guess."

"That's okay. We aren't strangers anymore so hopefully, you won't get all big eyed and nervous meeting me in the morning, right?"

"Right," he exhaled.

"Anyway, I should get going. I'll see you tomorrow morning?" you wiggle your eyebrows.

He chuckles, "Yea, I'll see you tomorrow."

It was a comfortable silence as the two of you unlocked your doors. "Oh and Jungkook?

"Uh huh?"

You smirked, "Blastoise would crush Charizard any day," and with that, you closed the door of your apartment, chuckling as you heard his indignant cry.

You definitely wanted more of Jeon Jungkook.

#btsghostie #thehouseofbangtan #bts drabble #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #bts fluff

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inabottlelikelightning · 4 years ago

Note

Hi do you mind answering a characterization question? Bc I've been thinking about this for a while and I can't decide if Theo is as reserved naturally as he is in canon - honestly he comes across as more of a natural performer, y'know? Someone who loves entertaining people and would probably enjoy a career in some form of athletic performance (figure skating, pro dancing, something like that). The fandom seems pretty solid on the Theo-as-an-introvert headcanon, which I can totally see, but i think its definitely an acquired introvertism (is that a word? It is now). He's also a gigantic nerd like, canonically, and it is hilarious, so I get why people think this, and I love nerd!theo, but he's sort of a bit of both sides. Idk if this really makes sense, but your characterizations of Theo are some of the best I've read and I was wondering if you had any thoughts about the whole introvert/extrovert dichotomy and where he fits in, bc I'm still trying to figure this one out :)

i NEVER mind answering characterization questions and I’m HONORED you thought to ask me!! i’m so glad you like my theo :) <3 thanks for the ask!

okay here we go, let’s take a journey through theo raeken’s id

okay, so thanks for sending this because I actually had to think about it a lot!! he’s so much more nuanced than most of the characters just because so much of what we see of him is faked.

Fandom does love their nerd!theo, but to be fair, fandom also loves their popular boy!theo. I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle, to be honest.

My instinctive response was that he’s sort of like me -- naturally an introvert, but an extravert out of necessity. I’ve moved a lot and I kinda just had to ignore any social anxiety I had so that I could make friends, and over time it just kind of went away (a classic fake-it-until-you make it. no, I do not have a psychology degree, thank you for asking), and he seemed to be the type who was kind of reserved unless he was “acting” like when he was manipulating the mccall pack and faking confidence in front of the dread doctors and the chimera pack

But the longer I thought about it, the more I started to agree with you. Introverts are people who prefer to be left alone, and extraverts are people who are fueled by being around people. We saw theo in s6, when he was lonely as hell, and he did not look like he was enjoying himself at all. He lost the dread doctors, his chimera pack, even the interactions he had with the mccall pack, and the lack of actual positive interactions (see: lack of any interactions that aren’t just a deputy knocking on his window and telling him to move the fuck on, or hunters shooting his truck up) seem to kind of make him uncharacteristically reticent, like a shell of a person.

He gets a lot better, more lively, when people start talking to him again, like in the rest of 6b, when Liam keeps dragging him into his idiotic plans (and Theo tries to help in the ways he knows how, by manipulating the hunters at the zoo (which Liam wouldn’t think of), by offering to help Liam hide Gabe’s body (which Liam couldn’t think of)), and he seems to be more or less back to his usual bravado, even though it’s more earnest and genuine rather than put-upon this time.

wow that was some long-ass rambling, but I guess, in summary: yeah, you’re right. Theo’s totally a natural performer, he’s fueled by interactions with and validation from others, and when he goes too long without being with other people, he does weird shit like try to simulate human contact via a spider crawling all over his fucking hand. He has some interesting self-worth issues, but he wants to be needed, which is why he keeps helping the McCall pack in s6, even though he could totally just skip town.

my fanon analysis is the reason that so many people write theo as an introvert who doesn’t like interacting with people is because the people in question are usually the mccall pack, who he thinks fucking HATE him. I can see why he’d be reticent at a pack meeting where everyone would be out for his blood if he stepped a single toe out of line, and why he would try to avoid drawing attention to himself. But if he was in a new place, with people who didn’t know him, I have no doubt he’d make tons of friends, because even though he’s a snarky asshole deep down inside, he’s totally a natural performer and he knows how to be charming as fuck, and that’s really all an extrovert is.

also, fun fact: after I finished typing this all out, out of curiosity, I took an MBTI test for theo, and this is what he got. you can read more abt the personality type here, it’s pretty interesting, ngl

#answered #theo raeken #me hacking apart Theo Raekens psyche like a lasagna in order to figure out his motivations and understand his character #never thought i'd use that tag more than once but here we are!#no regrets though #presumptious-quirks

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couldyouimagine-that · 4 years ago

Text

Honestly dude, idek. This just came to me. Not really any warnings, but there are mentions of alcohol and it takes place in a club/bar. A Boba x Reader songfic using Shape of You by Ed Sheeran.

Masterlist

You began tapping your fingertips against the table yourself and your companions were occupying when the live band started playing Shape of You. You were lowkey keeping an eye on a tall, dark haired man across the dancefloor from where you were sitting. He was the latest target you were after, one Boba pointed out to you and in fact a bounty Din had been told about by Karga a few days ago. Your heel started tapping to the uplifting beat without your permission, something Boba raised a silent eyebrow at from his place next to you. You gave a half shrug before jumping up just as the lyrics started up.

“The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go,” you sang, voice drowned out by the music blaring through the speakers around you. Your words were directed at Boba, though you glanced at the bar just off to the side to play along with the song. He rolled his eyes in response. “Me and my friends at the table doing shots, drinking fast and then we talk slow.” You offered a wide grin to Din and Cara at this point, the Mandalorian’s helmet moving in such a way that you suspected it was hiding a knowing smirk and Cara just displaying hers openly. Fett’s own helmet was resting on the table in front of him, visor facing out to the room and making his broad figure all the more imposing.

“Come over and start up a conversation with just me and trust me, I’ll give it a chance.” Your gaze was back on Boba now, who was having absolutely none of it. Your feelings for bounty hunter were by no means secret among anyone, but he was playing hard to get. That was fine; you were more than capable of doing the same.

“Take my hand, stop, put Van the Man on the jukebox and then we start to dance.” You started swaying your hips to the beat just slightly, a hand you knew would be ignored outstretched towards Fett. If the music were any quieter, you might have heard Din scoff behind his visor, gaze very firmly fixed on his two close friends. Him and Cara had been working (scheming) for ages to get you two together, but it turned out to be Boba who wouldn’t make the move. They came to the same conclusion you had; this was a game for him and he was dragging it out as long as possible.

“And now I’m singing like-” You cut yourself off, retracting your hand only to gesture at the bounty hunter, clearly signalling for him to pick up the lyrics. He refused point blank, watching your movements with a neutral expression. “You’re no fun!” You yelled over the music, a teasing grin over your lips. In the absence of a response, you continued singing. “Say, boy, let’s not talk too much, grab on my waist and put that body on me.” That was accompanied with a calculated swivel of your hips. “Come on now, follow my lead,” you started walking backwards, hips jutting out to each side like you were on a catwalk, then you spun sharply and continued stalking towards the centre of the dancefloor. There were a few people already on there, but that didn’t bother you. “Come, come on now, follow my lead.” You continued singing, commanding the attention of the room, confidence practically rolling off of you in waves. You stopped right in the middle, eyes surveying the crowd now waiting to see what you did next. One very specific set of eyes were boring into your back.

“I’m in love with the shape of you,” you were exaggerating all of your movements now, your whole body seeming to become part of the lyrics flowing around you. “We push and pull like a magnet do.” You threw your hands forwards and backwards to emphasize that. “Although my heart is falling too, I’m in love with your body.” You had gained a fair few people’s attention now, making you pretty confident that your plan would work. “And last night you were in my room,” you spun around, gesturing randomly into the group of onlookers, “and now my bedsheets smell like you. Every day, discovering something brand new, well I’m in love with your body.” You punctuated the following ‘oh’s’ in the song with precise flicks of your wrist, hips moving to match. You moved back towards the other side of the floor with a bit of fancy footwork, eyes locking on one particular person.

“One week in, we let the story begin, we’re going out on our first date.” You reached out to the man whose attention you had been trying to get (quite successfully done if you did so yourself), eyebrows lifting to suggest the lyrics were about him. He gave a wide smile in return, between surprised and pleased. “But you and me are thrifty, so go all you can eat. Fill up your bag and I fill up a plate.” He started walking towards you, his own hand starting to reach out. You took it and pulled him onto the dancefloor, close to you but not quite touching.

“We talk for hours and hours about the sweet and the sour, and how your family’s doing okay.” Your whole body was swaying, and you kept eye contact with your apparently willing target. “Leave and get in a taxi, we kiss in the backseat,” you blew him a chaste kiss, “tell the driver make the radio play. And I’m singing like-”

“Girl you know I want your love, your love was handmade for somebody like me.” Your face lifted in joy as he sang the lyrics, voice a deep baritone that was barely audible beneath the pounding music. “Come on now, follow my lead, I may be crazy, don’t mind me.” He glanced off to the side in faux disappointment, the warm grin ruined the effect entirely.

“Say, boy, let’s not talk too much,” you lightly tapped his chest, then grabbed his wrists. “Grab on my waist and put that body on me.” You put his hands on your waist then yours on his shoulders, now dancing as a couple like you had known each other for years. You offered the onlookers a bright wink and a raised eyebrow in your current partner’s direction as if asking if he was the one. The cheers you got in response certainly sufficed as an answer. “Come on now, follow my lead. Come, come on now, follow my lead.” You moved close to his chest then, arms around his middle and dancing over his spine, trailing to just above the back of his belt.

You sang the chorus together, you easily matching the footwork he came up with. You had to admit it; he was an excellent dancer. During the first set of ‘oh’s’, you faced each other, hip movements matching and exaggerated once more. On the second, you spun sharply to repeat the movement with the man at your back, then you both spun so you were behind him on the third repetition. He turned a third time to face you once more as you continued matching each other’s footwork, some of it fairly complicated and receiving some appreciative cheers from your accumulated crowd. “Come on, be my baby, come on.” His fingertips trailed over your jaw as he pretended to ask you genuinely, you making a show of considering it in return. You carried this on until you reached the last chorus.

“I’m in love with your body.” You twirled a few times, his hand well above your head with how tall he was. “Every day, discovering something brand new.” You came to face him one final time, arching your back and leaning back, him leaning over you to give a dramatic end to your routine. “I’m in love with the shape of you!”

You grinned as you looped your arms around your partner’s neck and let him pull you upright once more, offering your adoring crowd kisses from your fingertips. You walked off of the dancefloor together, still standing close when you stopped. Your chest was heaving but you kept up your grinning.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” He had a fairly strong Southern accent now you could actually hear his voice. You thanked him, but declined graciously nonetheless by telling him you were just out to have a good dance. You parted on as friendly terms as possible with a stranger, then made your way through the crowd and back towards your table, hips still swaying to the beat of the next song. Someone stopped you when you were almost back to compliment your dancing, so you used that as an excuse to take the last couple of steps in reverse. You thanked her as she moved away once more, then collapsed backwards heavily into the seat of the circular booth surrounding your table, pressing yourself firmly into Boba’s side. He turned his head towards you almost immediately, but made no further move. You didn’t look at him either, gaze on Cara as she gave an impressed whistle.

“I had no idea you could dance like that,” she said with a smirk which you quickly returned. Boba gave a quiet cough next to you, but rather than meet his gaze, you stared out over the dancefloor, noting your partner had well and truly disappeared. With that, you held up a hand in front of Boba and dropped both an ID and security card onto his lap.

“That guy wasn’t actually the target,” you murmured, sitting close enough to the mandalorian’s side that he heard you speak. “He was part of the security detail, and the one we’re actually after is very much not here.” You saw Cara and Din share a glance from the corner of your eye, but Boba still said nothing. You couldn’t help the slight twang of disappointment you felt at that, after all the trouble you went to for the sake of getting information which was at least in part for him. You waited a minute in the growing silence before shifting your body just slightly so you could see the bounty hunter from the corner of your eye, though the indignant “Well?” you were about to give was well and truly cut off.

Fett’s hand moved to cup your face, one finger trailing lightly over your throat first. You were still panting a little from the dancing but you were sure he wouldn’t believe that for a second. Your eyes widened in spite of themselves and the wicked smirk he threw you was enough to tell you he knew exactly why.

“Impressive,” Boba muttered warmly, the multicoloured lights projecting from the ceiling reflecting in his amber eyes. Any witty response you would have normally given died on your lips as he twisted to face you properly, his other hand going to the back of your neck to pull you in close. You rested your hands on his shoulders before you could think better of it and then his lips were on yours and everything around you simply faded into nothing.

When you finally came back to your senses, all you could focus on was Boba. He leaned forward again until his forehead rested against yours in what you belatedly realised was a Keldabe kiss, a gesture that made you lose your breath just as much as the other kiss you had shared just a moment ago. Neither of you said anything and nothing needed to be said, though eventually you were both brought back to the real world by slow clapping from Cara and a grumbled albeit good-natured “Took you long enough,” from Din.

#boba fett x y/n #boba fett x you #boba fett x reader #boba fett fic #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett #mandalorian reader inserts #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #cara dune #Star Wars

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