#it’s like Level 2 in the journey to self love yknow?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago

Text

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!! (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names , @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up.

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew.

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture.

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love.

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames.

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in.

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him.

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet.

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though.

“That would be nice,” He said softly.

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces.

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway.

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower.

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights.

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it.

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about.

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around.

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though.

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head.

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers.

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive.

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death.

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be.

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep.

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

“What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants.

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask.

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape.

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away.

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--”

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins.

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid.

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away.

“Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed.

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that?

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top.

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside.

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.”

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made.

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.”

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together�� is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it.

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun.

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology.

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet.

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways.

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it.

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine.

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back.

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad.

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet.

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear.

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him.

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face.

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime.

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x reader #wandavision #xmen fanfiction #xmen

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years ago

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you said random number so.. gimme 5, 17, 24, 26, 38, and 43

#epic thank you!!!! sorry this is so long, gang, but you know me. press J if you have that keyboard shortcut option

5)favorite fics?

soph nothingunrealistic’s!! click the link & peruse any of the dozen gifts to this world on ao3. also just go right to her writing tag

17)a fandom you wish more people were in/you had more people to talk to about?

well i don’t Really have an answer for this one, but just yesterday it was once again time to talk abt how jaclyn moriarty’s 4-book ashbury/brookfield YA series is a lot of fun and unusual in good ways, but like, i guess what with being published throughout the aughts and like, not being super obscure but also not being explosively popular, and idk maybe they were also more Known in australia than the US, and, idk, but there’s not exactly what you’d call a Fandom online, or even very many traces of one. and i just like to mention the series as Fun To Read because they are very lively and focus on girls and have a real variety of Girl Characters (and also some boy characters who are also varied and fun but that’s just a bonus) and in particular i like to talk about how the third book has a really Unusual Choice Of Protagonist (the unfun unpopular Best Grades by-the-book overachiever etc etc etc nerd girl, kinda having the personality that ppl misinterpret alana beck’s personality to be lol, like something of a killjoy goody-two-shoes lol, but also with that earnestness and drivenness that alana has as well)......and the format of each book is Epistolary, but in different and creative ways each time, and it’s fun how like, the characters who are telling the story (the ones whose letters are used and etc) rotate with each book [tho emily and lydia are Storytellers in the 2nd And 4th books] and it’s very neat how like, you do get that sense that just b/c someone’s not being Focused On as much from different people’s perspectives doesn’t mean they aren’t still existing and present and doing stuff and having their own story, even when that’s not being mentioned by whoever’s writing down the events that we’re reading. we love that sentiment. anyways i just like to always Promote them.

24)who are you at the end of this decade?

hmmm!! i mean in many ways i am who i have been the whole time but yknow, 2009 - 2019 was a tumultuous period. i was always furiously trying to think through Who Am I As A Person for various reasons, even though like, when you’re in ur mid-teens that’s always In Progress rather than there being a really set answer to be discovered, and for a while it was a lot of frustration with myself all “why are you like [this], why can’t you do [that] right,” etc etc. but eventually i had like, a better frame of reference for a lot of what was going on, and even why i never quite felt like i had a great sense of Who I Am and What I Like and etc in the first place, and more understanding and respect for myself lol. even now it’s like, yknow i’m ~self-consious~ in ways often lol and i’ll sometimes Use that to be like, okay try to improve [this thing] about yourself!! and yknow on the one hand i feel like stuff i’ve been Working On for years Has paid off in ways, but then recently it’s like......okay hang on but like, it’s not a bad thing to like, have some traits that maybe aren’t gonna be seen as “perfect” or might be annoying or yknow, your Demeanor and Vibe isn’t always like, the most important thing to focus on lol or something where like, oh being sweet & saintly & coming across as utterly pleasant to everyone always gets to be The Objective Ideal. like, i’m opinionated and can be argumentative and sometimes impatient?? like, there’s a balance here between “good to be trying to Improve Yourself always or whatever lol” and “but also everyone is People with Traits and Different Personalities and everyone doesn’t have to just sand themselves down into an edgeless smooth sphere” and like, sure it’s like “haha i’m a bit more temperamental than i’d like still” but also i sure sympathize w/ the fact that like, oof, depression makes it tricky sometimes! and i do pretty okay at like, being Aware of when my mood is cursed and trying to be as chill about it as poss! or like, “haha wish i was better at conversation lmao” but yknow also understanding that like.....i’m just kinda Not great at it and that’s what’s Natural for me and like, again, a balance between “trying to be easier to talk to, lol” and “being okay with the fact that i’m not super easy to talk to and most ppl aren’t very easy for me to talk to either, lol”

im trying to be a bit less cagey lol which i guess might not be the first word someone might use to describe me for a variety of reasons, But......and but then also, i just like, for me there is no simple Be Yourself, Just Talk Naturally As U Would conversation mode lol, but you know. it’s hardly a pressing issue, and at the same time, like, sometimes when i find it hard to talk to people it’s like “well this is just you needing to Be Nicer” or whatever, or like, well you’re just not used talking to Anyone so like, push through it, and then it takes me a while to realize like, well no you just don’t love talking to them, lmao......and at the same time i’m Really slow to realize when people *do* actually enjoy talking to me, lmao, i am just not used to it And used to people like, not really being super interested in interacting with me even if they think i’m alright lol. lord! so i’m still slightly surprised whenever Anyone likes me, but also like, then again there’s sort of always these repeated scenarios where it’s like [Glum Trombone Noise] i’m also the recipient of various ppl’s various contempt for various reasons........which like, i sure don’t Absorb that as like “way 2 go, you deserve that” but also like, sure also never is the most fun experience of your life. but i have a way more solid sense of the fact that like, i don’t inherently deserve that, and an understanding of Why people will be Like That sometimes, and that’s all been acquired knowledge from the whole journey of this decade lol

also like, i have always been and continue to be like, Basically A Cat lol.....cats-sonas for everyone, ___ the ___ cat, But Seriously Folks........like, oh, there’s a lot of ppl and/or noise around?? unless i have chosen to put myself in that situation for fun, i’m probably gonna be finding whatever quiet / distant corner to hide out in and try to remain as undetected as possible.......kinda wary about interacting with people sometimes, though then also, i like to be friendly w/ strangers (if they’re friendly with me) and won’t necessarily mind spontaneous interactions but only if it’s Plausibly Expected in the situation, and even then, i might just prefer that Nobody Talk To Me......and i’ve yet to be Really comfortable in a group of ppl if i’m there *with* that group lmao, like, i don’t like to take the lead or compete for attention or anything and just kinda will try to do my own thing on the outskirts, whereas if i’m by myself it’s just like, i feel a lot more comfortable and like i can just do whatever lmao..........and also i don’t like to make noise lol. unless again, it’s deliberate, and it’s Fun. like at a concert? i will be the death of whatever nerd like, wants it to be like a solemn “listening to a record” occasion or wants everyone to yell out complete sentences if a performer asks an Arena full of people How Are You Doing 2nite or whatever. i’m gonna yell!!! anyways. idk. i am always like “oh i am Very Much [this way], except for all the times i am totally [the would-be Opposite way]”........i can’t really opt out of having Anxious Qualities and that’s alright, even though it does get in the way of things sometimes for sure. like, c’est la vie!!! i understand why i am like this, and that like, while for my own sake i can try to hold my own hand here and encourage myself to be a little bolder, it’s totally fine that like, i have Problems and Difficulties.

i’m also at like, maybe the lowest levels of Impending Dread that i’ve had since i was like, 8 or some shit lmao............like again kind of a Wild Decade and one where like, it was totally all like “wow am i even gonna make it to [a few yrs in the future] -> [a year in the future] -> [half a year from now]” aaand it hasn’t been a full year yet since i was last thinking like “lmfao oof i might not be alive by __, who knows!!” but even while that was going on it was at least an improvement from the times i thought i might like, hmm hope i don’t off myself. and like, this is probably the first Start Of A Year in like. well possibly the past decade lmao, where yknow, it hasn’t felt quite as dire. i mean im not really out here a cockeyed optimist about anything, and like, i’m aware that things are always a little tenuous and there’s other factors i’m always nervous about, but That’s nothing new, and i’m kinda more like, neutral about the future rn lol? feeling less Dread and Doom is new-ish lmao and like, allowing that yknow, despite how crappy the past decade has been re: how i felt in my Outlook, there’s been a bunch of surprising Good Things to come along, and i totally allow for the fact that that could easily continue to happen. having Less(ened) Bad Feelings about Things might not = Absolutely Thriving but i appreciate it!! i also try to be appreciative lmao. like, what with the dread and doom & (hope i don’t die this year, i guess,) feelings, it’s wildly hard nowadays for me to like, anticipate stuff in a ~fun~ way or at all, but yknow when anything nice, even a really small / unspectacular / ordinary moment and/or detail, is being experienced by me, i try to enjoy that. i like to be Appreciative. and i think i’m also sort of like, sharing more of myself than i’ve probably gotten to or felt capable of doing in the past, and i appreciate that a lot too. like, it can be really Depressing for sure to think of like, hmm i haven’t had the chance to like, feel in control of things and like things are Totally Fine and i feel Totally Okay & like i’m enjoying everything, and i can choose to pursue [things i might enjoy], and maybe i Won’t have that chance? [another glum trombone noise] but like. i appreciate the good experiences that i Do and Have gotten so far. and the fact i’ve ever been in situations to connect with people and enjoy things the ways that i can and like, it’s really nice that My Presence in other ppl’s lives, even as just like Some Online Rando re: some ppl lmao, has had some positive effect for them or even just been enjoyed is like, wow, this is pretty great lol.........not sure where i was taking this tangent but like, i am someone who appreciates this a lot.

hmm i am also a passionate person at the end of this decade lmao!!!! that has definitely always been true. i am Of That Temperament. it is funny b/c like, the fact that i am A Motormouth Actually But Often Not Saying Anything In The Least To People, they think i’m like, of this very mild disposition and Not someone with strong opinions that they will launch into, or else i would have been doing that already........but you know!!! here i am online, fully able to just dive into things and start talking about whatever for one million years. and i sure latch onto stuff in a Big Way sometimes, which is why anyone follows me at all lol, b/c if you like [whatever particular content] and i am just all about that too, it’s a beneficial situation for us both i guess lmao. i can get really excited and focused about stuff, obviously, and i sure Also Obviously like to explore the emotional aspects of things. which is a vague thing to say lmfao but you all know what i mean!!! it continues to be the only reason i draw lmaooo like i draw so much and like, Making Fanart And Sharing It Online has i think also been a journey of this decade for me, and i really only draw a) exactly that fanart that i feel like making, and b) what i feel like making is always also probably abt Feelings somehow, like the Three Emotions: kissing (aka gay), crying (sad), and angry (angry)........great news if you want to see the stuff i already happen to be drawing lol!!! bad news i guess if you were hoping i’d draw anything but whatever i end up wanting to draw. i cannot be diverted. and i don’t even draw for its own sake lol like, i’ve always doodled for fun and all that, but like, ive never been a “wow i want to make my own __ someday” or whatever, and if i’m trying to draw something which is anything other than [the exact thing i might feel like drawing] it is Such a chore that like, i just don’t do it except for like, total Exceptions. except exceptions lol. don’t ask!! anyways why did i get on that drawing tangent there........yeah it’s definitely lucky that i’ve been giving myself that Drawing Experience so that i can connect w/ ppl that way, cuz i’m godawful at like, necessarily providing other stuff lol Or at being the one to Make Connections Happen otherwise......and also of course sometimes it is easier to convey/communicate something via drawing. woohoo!!

anyways yeah i’m a bit excitable lol and i sure guess i’ve got that Chaotique energy at times, for better or worse lol........like sometimes my Contribution can be like, just an absolute wild card thrown into the pile, or just like, maybe adding some Boost to a situation that other people can run with if they so choose. just throw things out there sometimes and enjoy when other ppl find that fun lmao

what else is there about me??? lol.......oh yeah i’m always sort of an Office Goofaround (not actually in an office ever, though). like, when ppl Don’t have that sense of Collaborative Humor where like, if someone does something a bit silly u just roll with that bit, or if god forbid they have Exhausting Cishet Guy humor where they think everything is about Dry, “Intelligent” Sarcasm and that being “funny” is about making yourself look like the coolest or cleverest person there who Wins the Center Of Attention spot?? it’s like, eff that, where are my Get Silly gang. also puns are funny but also only b/c they are silly. you have to really lean into it lol.

well anyways!!!! and when i am asked to talk about myself i can be very extensive and yet not necessarily cover everything. here we are

26)favorite look you had?

my look hasn’t changed too much! Tees n Jeans (or shorts? or jorts? lol) are pretty much my thing altho you Know i have at times added in A Layer, or even accessories.......as always, part of the first few years of the decade for me was the whole “aha, yeah okay i’m trans” process, but before that i wasn’t ever really trying to be more “””””””””fashionable”””””””””” than the tees n jeans type of look anyway lmao, and even nowadays like, i have some Wardrobe Items that like, ppl might consider ”androgynous” or whatever when cis dudes wear them, like leggings or a v-neck sweater........really some of the only significant Changes was getting binder/s eventually (by 2012?? ugh idk) and also like, by 2011 i cut my hair relatively short, and from there on i just like, every year went “ugh god i need it to be shorter” and even now i’m like, hmm, do i want it shorter or is this fine?? but also i’m somewhat limited styling-wise b/c i just continually cut it myself in a bathroom mirror, true chaotic. and! i’ve been like, god i wish i had a baseball cap that’s just like, solid [my fave blue] or yknow, black or something, or idk. one that i like. and also someday it would be nice to like, not only have an updated prescription of lenses but also Multiple Glasses Frames to choose from, even though my current ones are alright still lol.......this is me just talking abt my past looks and how i’d like to potentially update my look lmao i did Not answer the question but, as usual, i also don’t have a great direct answer lol

38)a prediction you had for this decade that came true?

lol this was not a decade where i was ever looking ahead to 2020 and making any assumptions about this Block Of Time as a whole.......i mean like, i was Really starting to suspect byyyy 2012 for sure that like, i could not like, be able to exist And have my parents be in my life at all lol and by 2013 it was just like. increasing confirmation of that. and i last saw / spoke to them prior to me just effing out of there at the end of 2015. snaps for me

43)an important relationship (of any kind) you had?

well a couple i appreciated that might not be obvious were pretty brief and fairly impersonal lol. so in 2015 i had this Nightmare Job for five whole months which was obviously miserable in most ways, but there was this other guy who wasn’t even a Coworker, we just had the same job and had similar routes of Stores to go to, so we would run into each other a lot of mornings, and he would talk to me and i’d talk to him and he was totally good-humored about everything and that was helpful lmao b/c it’s great to have Someone you enjoy seeing. i also struck up a rapport with a baked-goods stocker at one particular store, and that could be an enjoyable 14 seconds. it was a godawful job lmao and like, Any pleasantness at all / decent treatment from other people was very helpful

also at this other job the next year which was a lot less hellish, there was this customer lady who like, i can’t remember at what point she started talking to me but yknow it got to be that if we’d run into each other she’d kind of update me on her life. and she would be like “sorry i’m talking to you, a stranger, about all this stuff all the time, but my life is a mess and i don’t really have anyone to talk to” and i would be like, lmfao mood, do not even worry about it, and yknow this was someone i only ran into usually once every few weeks at my job, and could only listen to for however long, but she was Going Tf Through It all the time and as much as i am a chatterbox who will go on for a century about myself b/c i can’t be concise abt anything ever, i’m also decent at being in Listening Mode lmao or yknow, i was like No Truly i don’t mind you venting, and also yknow, i’m like well i know how much it sucks to have Nobody to talk to about Big Problems. and i am this random restaurant worker and if i’m one of the only people this lady can talk to, you can bet i’m going to listen lol.......and she was really goin through it all One Thing After Another and yknow i’d catch her two weeks later and she’d be all like, well [this situation] has gotten worse, or This One Problem is over but now New Problem has replaced it, etc, and a whole issue that i got updated on was like lol. she had this boyfriend who she’d kinda mention early on when she was talking abt trying to find a job, or losing a new-but-terrible job and once again being back in that Job Hunt Stress, and idk like. i just sort of have decent Relationship Instincts lmfao of like “hmm this doesn’t sound great” but like, a month or two later she’s straightup Married to this dude, and i’m like oh congrats :) and then when a month or two after That she’s talking about how like, she’s maybe having Job Probs again and her now-husband is really giving her shit for like, not having found a new one yet, i’m like internally all [ :)))))) Not Surprised :))))))) ] but i’m like. yknow you Sympathize n Validate but if you just up and tell someone who’s being treated real bad like “you are being treated terribly, this person is acting terribly” then they might just want to defend them like oh it’s not That bad, or minimize it, and blame themselves for making their terrible partner “look bad”.......and by extension when she once was in our restaurant With said husband and introduced us i was like, just getting further confirmation abt this dude’s shittiness from his Immediate Vibe lmao like....whenever i feel uncomfortable enough in someone’s presence in a [not just universal level of Anxiety] way, it’s like, that instinct is pretty reliable & accurate lol.....but i had to pretend Not to hate him or act too standoffish towards him lmao cuz like!!! i figured i could “get away with it” but yknow, this lady had already said how isolated she was and the husband sure seemed Controlling and like, yknow, if you act like you don’t Like the shitty partner or said shitty partner catches wind of you maybe telling this person that “hey your partner is being shitty” then it’s all, them telling their partner “don’t go around that person who is so obviously Against me >:(” and like. yknow i figured as Random Restaurant Employee this dude wasn’t about to be super on guard about me but i still was not wanting to risk it but luckily i only met him the one time and only had to casually pretend i didn’t think he was shit that one time. and anyhow! soon enough the lady is talking to me about how she thinks getting married to him was a mistake but like, again, she was real isolated and didnt have family or friends or ppl in the area to talk to, and like, yknow she would be pretty sure her husband was cheating on her but of course He was the one all like, wanting to be controlling and invade her privacy and accuse Her of cheating on him, and i’m like, internally screaming but again yknow, i’m just letting her vent to Anyone (me) and sympathizing. and iirc her talking about her “uh oh my husband sucks” was like, i had come back from this delivery so we were in the parking lot lol and she was so upset about all of it and like, “sorry i’m just this random person talking to you for twenty minutes in a parking lot and crying lol” and i’m like. i mean yknow if the only person you can vent to about this terrible situation is me, this random person in a parking lot, absolutely i am glad to do it, even though i would’ve done it anyways lol...........and i was so mad at our General Manager this one time lmao b/c. yknow it’s a couple weeks later and wouldn’t you know it, The Lady is really stressed b/c her husband was yelling at her and broke a window in their apartment, and the Cost Of Repairs added to their monthly rent meant they might not be able to make that rent, and she was in that crappy situation that gets pulled on Tenants Who Probably Don’t Have Much Money, where you’re supposed to get 5 Days Notice or whatever when they’re like “get out b/c your rent is overdue” but you get that Notice on like, friday afternoon when your Last Day is supposed to be the following monday, and nobody is at the office all weekend, so obviously that’s not five days and it’s really only One Day and that Last Day that you’d even have a chance to talk to anyone, which is also a monday when you’d probably have work, and yknow, good luck finding help over the weekend, when probably ppl will just want to spend that time rushing to just pack their shit up and leave anyways.....ANYHOW it’s just some particular heinous bullshit and it was like, the saturday after it had happened to her, and i sympathized entirely b/c that had happened to me and i now lived in my car but i figured i wouldn’t bring that up lmfao.......and anyways i was sitting down with her to listen to her b/c it’s an Insanely Stressful Situation and again like, whenever she’d show up i’d let her talk to me abt her Problems for however long she felt like. and anyways of course eventually the one By-The-Books manager gives me shit all like “what are you doing daring to Sit Down and Not be doing restaurantly actions, ugh” and i’m like. i mean, unsurprising lecture to get lol, of course, but i was just so impatient like. well this person was having a crisis so i prioritized that above keeping the coffee stirrers fully stocked at all times, bite me. ENNYHOW and i didn’t see her for a minute after that and i Was a bit worried b/c like. of course i had every reason to be and she was just always looking so completely exhausted but then like, actually the last time i saw her she was actually more upbeat than ever b/c like! turns out that during an argument her husband had assaulted her and had been arrested. which is of course like. i was like oh i am completely sorry about that trauma but congratulations at this person being separated from you!!! and like, i wish i could have kept up with her beyond that, but i couldn’t, but like, that was the first Improvement in her life that i’d heard since i met her, and it was a way better last-thing-to-hear-from-her than her stressing out abt eviction thanks to her abusive husband breaking shit. and like, weird relationship lmao but!! idk i did feel lucky that i could be The One Person This Lady Gets To Talk With b/c like, god forbid she have absolutely nobody to talk to about this shit or treat her with any sympathy, even if it was just me, the rando she only got to see on occasion. and i hope she’s doing okay still! wish i knew for sure of course, but i’m glad i at least got to be there for her in a tiny way for a period of time and did eventually like, Know that she both knew that this was a bad person to be with, and got that Reason to be separated from him.

#imsocatastrophic

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