#maybe Jade's right maybe I do need to see a therapist

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

"Yuu-Yuu hurt." Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

The teddy bear finds Malleus in the greenhouse with Jade, a rock sitting on the table with mushrooms growing on the surface. Malleus pauses in the middle of his explanation upon spotting it. "Oh, hello, [teddy's name]. What brings you here?"

"[Teddy's name] needs help. Yuu-Yuu feel bad," it says.

Malleus frowns. "What seems to be troubling them?"

"[Teddy's name] doesn't know." The answer astonishes Malleus and Jade, but the matter is put aside to come up with a way to cheer Yuu up.

"Ah, Malleus, do you remember the mushrooms you showed me at our last meeting?"

"The ones that can improve one's mood if properly prepared? Of course."

"Would you be able to show me how to prepare them? They may make a great gift for Yuu, and I have a recipe in mind that the mushrooms may go well with."

Later that night, Yuu is gifted with a delicious plate of mushroom pasta.

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Floyd is on bar shift at the Mostro Lounge. He's pleasantly surprised to see the teddy bear, which is standing on the counter since the stool is too low for it to see him properly. He stares quizzically at the teddy bear when it tells him about Yuu.

"Jade said that you came to him and sea slug-senpai about the same thing. I seriously don't get what you're worried about. Little shrimpy was more bubbly than usual when I saw them."

The teddy bear puts a paw on its muzzle, thinking.

"Go see Azul about this. I don't feel like deciphering anything right now."

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Azul is puzzled at the teddy bear's words, having seen Yuu earlier that day too. But the teddy bear doesn't leave empty handed.

"Give this to them. They'll know what to do," Azul says, handing a folded slip of paper. "By the way, would you happen to be available this Saturday?"

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"First mushroom pasta from Tsunotarou and Jade, and now a therapist recommendation from Azul," Yuu says, staring down at Azul's pretty penmanship. They look over at their teddy bear, who is sitting next to them on the couch, and gives a small smile. "You don't have to do all this, you know. I'm not going through anything bad, and if I was, I would tell someone about it. You know that."

The teddy bears nods, but then waddles over and hugs them. They hug it back. "Thanks, [teddy's name]."

"Did it get someone to give you something again?" Grim had entered the room. He perks up at a thought and hurries over. "Is it food?" he asks excitedly, jumping onto the couch.

"Nope, not this time. Just a recommendation for a therapist."

"Huh?!" He leans forward to look at the teddy bear. "Are you still on about Yuu being hurt? I'm pretty sure with all the attention they're getting, they'd be cheered up already."

"[Teddy's name] trying to help."

Grim sighs. "Who knew you were so stubborn? Buuuuuut, if you're still worrying about them, why don't you ask Trey or Jamil to make something for them? Maybe something with tuna--"

"Grim, no!"

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"They feel bad, but they're not regretful of anything nor are upset," Vil quietly says to himself. He sighs. "I'm afraid I may not be able to help with something like this. Although, it does worry me that Yuu is keeping something well hidden from you and Grim."

"Could it be that they exude a bad presence?" Rook suggests. "You, little protector, are sensitive to Trickster's emotions as well as others' emotions. You do not hesitate to put a comforting paw on a sad student's hand or leg or hug Trickster when something is bothering them. You also have the peculiar ability of knowing Trickster's physical well-being and come running to them when they get injured."

Rook smiles when the teddy bear's eyes glimmer with hope (in his eyes, at least). "By these observations, it would make sense for you to also be sensitive to the atmosphere surrounding them. Would that be correct?"

"YES!" The teddy bear nods fervently.

"Careful! You're going to fall over," Vil says, reaching out a hand to steady the teddy bear.

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"A bad presence surrounding them. . ." Lilia had paused in his search for something that had fallen under his bed.

He sits up and looks around the room. "Hmm. . . Sebek mentioned that you had been going around campus asking for help on cheering up Yuu, but it seems you found the real reason. I may have the solution for your problem. Just give me some time to get everything prepared."

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"Scan complete. There's no physical distress or imbalance in their system," Ortho reports.

"I cannot believe that after getting Lilia's help, it still thinks there's a problem," Sebek remarks, shaking his head. "Has it no faith in him?"

"I don't think that's the case. I'm just surprised that this has been going on for three weeks," Jack says.

Yuu shrugs helplessly. "Well, it's just worried about my well-being. I'm sure that after Ortho tells it I'm fine, it will relax."

". . . Somehow, I doubt that."

"My scans are almost always accurate, though. Idia makes sure my equipment is up to date and I'd know if something is wrong with any of them," Ortho says.

"Erm, sorry, I didn't mean it that way. It's just. . ."

It is then that Kalim and Jamil approach the group, giving a greeting. "You guys seem a little distressed. Is everything all right?" Kalim then asks.

"My teddy bear has been trying to get everyone to cheer me up or help me even though I'm not sad or hurt," Yuu explains.

"Grim did come up to me the other day asking for food to cheer you up. I guess he wasn't lying," Jamil says.

"He did what?! Dang it, I told him no." Yuu huffs. "Anyway, it's recently been thinking that I have a bad presence, so it got Lilia to do a ritual. We just had Ortho do a scan on me, and I think it should calm down after hearing that I'm healthy."

"What about your aura? Those aren't connected to anything physical, and I know someone who specializes in aura detection and healing," Kalim offers.

"I tried scanning for that too, but nothing's come up," Ortho says. "It's the same for curses and other magical debuffs. There's nothing."

"That's strange."

"Perhaps not. It might mean that Lilia's ritual has been effective after all," Sebek boasts.

"I can understand it being protective over you, but there's no reason for you to be targeted for anything. You're as ordinary as they come, if you overlook being from another world," Jamil says.

"Thanks. I really hope it calms down after this. I don't want it to trouble other people," Yuu says.

[vole-mon-amour]

3x05, part 2.

Jamie is so much more than Zava, I can't wait for them to get rid of Zava. Jamie is right and he SHOULD SAY IT.

Somebody stop his drinking. Where is his therapist? Or where's Rebecca? They understand each other and could use some support. Also, "being a mom" as in her understanding what Henry is going through and helping Ted to get through that.

Honestly, even for a second I didn't think it was Henry who was bullied, but that he was the one who bullied. His parents are separating, there's a new guy in the house, and Henry's dad is far away. Growing up is hard, especially like that.

I even thought that maybe Henry comes live with Ted? So Rebecca sees the kid way more, so does the team?

Keeley is such a sunshine. I appreciate her very much.

Honestly, I think it's very unfair that Keeley acted the same way with Rebecca, all those smiles, laughs, and we didn't get anything. Even more, some think we're weirdos. When with Jack, sure, they'll kiss and fuck. I'm sad.

HELLOOOO???

"I'm not playing" The fact that Roy knew what to say to each player, and it wasn't a single word as the previous one. Coaching is good for him tbh.

HE'S SO CUTE.

These two. <3 It's so non-toxic between them, I love it.

Jade, the waitress at the restaurant, is everything. She sees right through Nathan. I can't watch scenes with him. I just can't listen to him talking. I don't need that plot-line.

HELL YEAH.

Just like I said, Jamie is so much better. If I remember correctly, he didn't pull shit like this even at his worst I'm A Big Star Everybody Should Love Me moments. Zava is, like it was said, shite in nining armor. In the worst way possible.

Why is she like THAT. I want myself a Rebecca.

Rebecca calling Keeley for support (!) TWICE (!!) and Keeley missing BOTH calls. And for what?? For another woman she barely knows. Stop it. Stop it IMMEDIATELY. My girls deserve way better.

Keeley, darling, are you talking about Jamie? I seriously should rewatch earlier seasons. I miss them. Ot3 when???

This. Is. Unfair. KELLEY AND REBECCA, HELLO?????

SCREAMING. It's your time to shine, Jamie. Also, when will these two kiss?

The plot-line with Zava was kind of useless. He left abruptly, he didn't give anything to the team and only messed things up. I mean, yeah, it's probably to show how good they are and that they can do anything. But it was obvious before him. Was it to push Jamie further? Maybe. Who knows. I still think it was kind of a waste of screen time. A wanker, indeed.

IT FUCKING IS.

Jamie said that from the start, y'all just didn't want to listen. To be fair though, Ted went with it bc Rebecca wanted Zava on the team. It wasn't like he actively tried to get Zava to join the team or even to talk to him to be better with the other players and better as a person. Tbh, he completely ignored the same things he tried to fix in Jamie. Jamie listened though. Zava wouldn't in a million years.

Foreshadowing? Fits Rebecca's current situation very much though.

[tea-with--honey]

The Ted Lasso Finale has left me EMPTY. like man I knew they were gonna be kind of realistic about and it stuff but a lot of it just didnt feel like an ending to me? Do I think its probably what would happen if the show was completely realistic? Yes. Do I think it made ANY sense narratively? NO.

Like I'm actually very happy about what they've done with Roy and Colin and maybe maybe maybe Nate but thats it. Nate on paper worked okay for me but I just felt like he didnt have his big moment? That could have been intentional though.

I may ship Tedbecca/Tedpendent but I would have been fine without it if they didnt??? Do them so dirty like that???? Like they did NOT need to tease us like that throughout the entire episode that was just plain mean. Like hello????? the scene in Rebecca's house?? The 'you go, I go?' Ted actually saying that Rebecca pulled a rom-com moment on him? Hell Rebecca getting a first-class seat and Coach Beard leaving the seat next to Ted open? Its like they loaded MULTIPLE Chekov's guns that didnt fire. i would have been fine okay and THEN they pulled up with Boat guy coming back. What. Even. I hated that so bad.

And guys Trent not even getting a moment to really say goodbye to the man who he got fired over was so??? AHHAHSHSJDDGSB

AND IM MAD ABOUT COACH BEARD AND JANE. Especially after so many scenes that indicated that the better choice for Beard was to break it off. And also jane was just, incredibly toxic.

Also I would have hoped that they spent a better part of the season establishing that Ted needed to go home? Idk it just felt like I was waiting for Ted to reveal that he stayed in London the entire time. Henry is obviously a very important part of his life but we didnt even get to see Ted being fulfilled and being there for the reason he went back home in the first place!!! At least give us some scenes where Ted doesnt look like hes about to have another panic attack back in Kansas and he's actually spending time with his little boy.

Okay im just gonna put all the other things that bothered me in a list because im sleepy but I gotta get this all out

The way we have 0 idea what rebecca found out from the doctor

The green matchbox thingy not being addressed

The lack of Bex and the Rupert's ex assistant girlie in the episode. I know them going into Rebecca's house served as a plot point but I wish we still got to see them yknow

Not getting to see Sam's restaurant again

We literally dont even get to hear what Trent wrote in 'The Lasso/Richmond Way' I had hoped there would be at least a reading of it played over some 'future' scenes

Also that Ted looks so unhappy at the end and he just as always steps aside. WHERE DID HIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT GO

Also how OOC Ted seemed this episode, I thought they were setting up him revealing to be just really upset hence the behavior but nope nothing nada

Lack of Jade

Doctor Sharon's reaction scenes feeling shoehorned in

While I do love her getting her own official position in the team I wish they just saved showing her character for that scene specifically. Idk the rest of her cheering scenes just didnt really add much

the lack of discussion on mr awful therapist

Ted seemingly still living in the same house as his ex wife who is currently dating his ex marriage counselor

Theres more I just cant think about it anymore

Anyways they did the Diamond Dogs and the Sound of Music routine so right but thats really it for me. Would love to rant about the ending with anybody so DMs are always open

[writingfool001]

How about number 9 with our mothering eel, Jade? :3

Your Face is Warmer Than Usual

Prompt: Person A pressing their forehead against Person B's forehead to check if they have a fever.

Stress and the chaos that you deal with ever since you were brought to this strange world. Other than being a therapist, you have to make sure your grades and Grim’s are proficient, play peacemaker, run the errands for Crowley, and make sure you have a roof as well as food to eat. Get up, go to class, do your study, run errands, make sure no crazy accidents happen, make dinner, do more homework, and try to sleep. Not to mention the repairs to the Ramshackle you needed to do and repairs to be made and go work at the Mostro Lounge.

The pattern repeats over and over while getting little sleep and you thought no one would notice, but one did. A certain tall eel noticed you slightly sluggish behavior when he sees you around the school and at work.

He’s read about usual symptoms about humans being ill, his suspicions were correct when you showed up to school with a face mask. He kept a eye on you through out the day and when lunch came, he found you sitting with the first year group.

Ace riling up Sebek and Deuce while Epel tries to stop him as Jack and you just vibin as Grim ate lunch. However, you appear to be fighting a battle against sleep and you were losing. Jade made sure to get some soup to go from the cafeteria before strolling over and picking you up, catching Jack off guard before noticing it was Jade.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into (Y/N) and get them head back to the dorm,” Jack said, causing Jade to raise an eyebrow. “They’ve been struggling through the day, almost blew up the potion in alchemy and have been sneezing nonstop as well as look like they’re about to collapse.”

“Listen Leech,” Jade turned his head to Grim, looking the tall merman dead in the eye. “Take care of my Henchman until I get back after classes.”

He nodded and carried you bridal style and grabbed your bag before leaving the cafeteria to walk back to your dorm.

My fragile human, even going through life threatening situations, you’re so stubborn about stepping down and taking care of yourself. He thought, sighing before smiling as he stared down at your sleeping self. So peaceful.

When he arrived, he quietly opened the door and closed it behind him once he got in which woke you up.

“Jack, I didn’t need you to carry me to class.” You sleepily groan, causing Jade to smile.

“I’m not Jack, my dear.” Your eyes open immediately and look to see Jade’s smiling face.”

“Wait, where am I? Did Azul make you kidnap me? Or are you here to kill me?” You tiredly glare at him, still half asleep as he walked upstairs.

“No Dearest, You’re sick and I noticed that you are only making it worse for yourself, so I took it upon myself to take care of you.” He said, putting you on your bed and grabbed one of the shirts that you stole from him and some sleeping pants. “Now, I’m going to leave to check your kitchen for medicine and you should change then get right into bed.”

“I’m not sick.” You sigh,closing your eyes, and try to get up before a soft sudden pressure against your forehead. 

Opening your eyes, you saw Jade looking at you lovingly, causing your face to flush even worse.

“Usually when you blush, your face isn’t this warm,” He smiled before pulling away. “You better be changed by the time I get back or else, dearest~”

[pennylaneforthoughts]

After some thinking, a conversation with my sister-in-law with a psych degree, and a couple of sessions with my godsend of a therapist, I think I've finally put my finger on the thing about Mobius that Loki (and a lot of the fandom tbh) so quickly latched onto like a man dying of thirst at the first sign of water:

Unconditional positive regard.

This concept is at the core of client-centered psychology and basically is a stance that a therapist will take in relation to their client, where they simply accept and support their client as a person, regardless of what they do or say.

My therapist uses this framework with me, and when the Loki series came out, I immediately saw Mobius and was like "holy crap, this man has the exact same energy as Sami what???" And I couldn't for the life of me figure out why until I was talking about it with my sister-in-law and she mentioned unconditional positive regard. And then it clicked.

Mobius radiates unconditional positive regard from the minute he meets Loki in episode 1, and arguably even from the first time we even see him onscreen. He approaches everyone he interacts with using a basic framework of "I see you and care about you as a person, and nothing you do or say can change that," so we immediately get the impression that this man is soft, kind, and shaped like a friend. However, it's most obvious and pointed in his interactions with Loki.

While yes, Mobius' primary objective in episode 1 is to interrogate Loki, it's important to note that it's not an interrogation where Mobius is trying to find proof of guilt for a crime like we'd see in a typical detective procedural. Rather, Mobius is trying to see if this variant of Loki is self aware enough to be able to help him in his hunt for Sylvie. It's fundamentally a test to find out Loki's current place in his emotional and psychological development. It is not maliciously intended, and it is not designed to harm Loki. On the contrary, the intent is clearly to help Loki begin to come to terms with the reality of who he is and the choices he has made.

In fact, the whole time this is happening, Mobius very purposefully strives to foster an environment where Loki knows that A.) Mobius sees him. Truly sees and knows him. B.) Despite knowing what Loki is and what he's done, Mobius loves him and regards him positively, and C.) nothing Loki can do or say will change that positive regard.

Loki, however, is super not used to receiving unconditional positive regard. He has no idea how to respond to it. He feels like it's a trick, like there's another shoe just waiting to drop. I related to him hardcore in this scene because that's exactly how I felt when my therapist presented me with unconditional positive regard for the first time. It's confusing and strange and difficult to believe at first. Especially because it sets the stage for honest self reflection and personal growth that can be incredibly painful.

Loki is not a perfectly innocent person. He has done a lot of really bad things and hurt a lot of people in his life. He has a lot of very deep seated trauma that has informed these actions, but he still made those choices and he needs to take responsibility for them. This is not a fun process. Mobius knows this is actually a really awful, sucky process. But he also knows that change and growth requires two things: acknowledgement that a change needs to be made and the expectation that change can and will occur when properly cultivated. Mobius clearly laying out the reality of Loki's actions and who he is in the Sacred Timeline is the first part of that equation, and his unflappable, unconditional positive regard towards Loki as a person despite knowing that reality cultivates an environment for the second part to flourish.

"By definition, it is essential in any helping relationship to have an anticipation for change. In the counseling relationship, that anticipation presents as Hope—an optimism that something good and positive will develop to bring about constructive change in the client's personality. Thus, unconditional positive regard means that the therapist has and shows overall acceptance of the client by setting aside their own personal opinions and biases. The main factor in unconditional positive regard is the ability to isolate behaviors from the person who displays them." (source)

Mobius is not Loki's therapist, but he does take on a therapeutic role in Loki's life. He shows Loki that he is fully aware of all of Loki's faults and mistakes. He's seen them over and over again and knows them by heart because it's his job. And in the face of all of that he looks at Loki and says that he doesn't see him as a villain. That he likes him anyway and believes that Loki has the potential to help him and what he believes is the cause of good. (Yes the TVA is corrupt, but neither of them know that at this point, and the fact that both Mobius and Loki believe this to be the side of good to varying degrees is important here)

Mobius maintains this regard throughout the series and his subsequent interactions with Loki and when talking about Loki to Ravonna and others, and it's a big part of why Loki so quickly trusts and feels comfortable around Mobius. I know some people say it's unrealistic how fast it was, but it made a lot of sense just based on my experience. I mean, after one (1) session with my therapist, I was 100% ride or die for him, and it was kind of absurd. But the feeling of being seen like that is so potent when you're starved for it, that extreme reactions to it make a lot of sense. And if anyone's starved for unconditional positive regard, it's Loki.

Mobius is only human though, and he's not perfect at this. Over the course of the series, it's clear that Mobius has emotionally invested a lot in his Loki, and he struggles to maintain a professional distance, though he usually is able to keep his head enough to give Loki that positive regard he needs. The only time we see this regard slip is in episode 4 when Mobius is feeling betrayed and jealous. In these moments, Mobius is unable to step back from his feelings enough to get into a headspace where he can separate Loki's actions from who he is. He calls Loki an asshole and a bad friend, and it comes from a place of hurt and jealousy. It's also what drives Loki into a defensive mode we haven't seen since episode 1. He's no longer receiving that unconditional positive regard from Mobius and he feels betrayed. He worries that maybe it was all an act in the first place and Mobius never really cared for him at all. For the first time, Loki feels like Mobius doesn't see the best in him anymore and it hurts.

Mobius' unconditional positive regard was genuine, though, and this is reinforced in the subsequent scenes where we see him act on his instinctual desire to assume the best of Loki and investigate his claims. We see it again when he returns to Loki and he reaffirms both his desire to trust Loki and his belief that Loki can be "whoever, whatever he wants to be, even someone good." At this point, Loki is able to accept it and no longer pushes back against Mobius' belief in Loki's goodness and that he "has within himself vast resources for self-understanding, for altering his self-concept, attitudes, and self-directed behavior." He's grown and begun to see himself in a more realistic and positive light and it's a direct result of the time Mobius has spent cultivating that relationship based on unconditional positive regard.

That's why their relationship feels so comfortable and satisfying. Unconditional positive regard isn't only a therapy principle. It's something everyone craves in a relationship. To be seen as you are, flaws and mistakes and quirks and all is terrifying and mortifying, but when that person then just smiles and says I love you anyway because you are not your mistakes and you are not your flaws and nothing you can ever do or say can change how I feel about you, the relief and joy and comfort is more than worth the discomfort. So I think the idea that Mobius can look at someone as deeply flawed, broken, and jaded as Loki and love him exactly as he is right there and then, eyes wide open and smiling, believing that beneath it all Loki has the potential to be good, gives us hope that someone could do the same for us. I know that's what Lokius does for me, at least. Mobius represents to me the ideal of unconditional positive regard, and having an image of what that looks like in the character of Mobius gives us the opportunity to apply it to ourselves when we may not get it elsewhere in our lives. And I, for one, think that's very sexy of him.

[gotshadowbanned-feralfungii]

Okay i get that being disproportionately angry is a fun trend tumblr likes to get into, but holy shit can yall stop telling people to kill themselves?

I dont care how much of a shithead someone is being there is never, never call for you to tell someone to go kill themselves and if your impulse upon reading this is to argue that there is ever a time when it's okay, you need to stop and take stock of what you're hoping to accomplish and why you think it's okay for you to say something so disgusting. If someone else is being shitty, you don't have to stoop to their level, you don't have to engage, you don't have to send a stranger on the internet suicide bait. No one deserves to die for vaguely annoying you on Tumblr dot com.

I see a lot of this on posts where someone shares their opinion and then a fuckload of people who are convinced they're progressive and woke, jump on the person and barrage them with suicide bait. What is that accomplishing? What does that do for you? Does it make you feel better to hurt others? Do you think they deserve it for seeing things differently than you, or for not knowing the same information you've long since learned? Do you think your actions are somehow above reproach, that the harm you cause isn't true harm?

If you ever tell someone to kill themselves, even once, you have done wrong, and any wrong your victim may have done does not negate that. If you do it on a regular basis, you need to think about why you default to such a disgusting tactic, and consider that maybe you've gotten desensitized to something very dangerous and harmful that absolutely could kill someone someday.

And if your reaction to "you could actually kill someone" is "good," then holy shit go touch some grass and get a therapist and don't talk to me.

And if your response to this is "well it's okay to use harmful tactics against harmful people" well, my guy, even if that was true (which I don't think it is but that's a personal philosophy thing and something you need to decide for yourself), how much of the suicide bait on this site is directed to actively harmful people, and how much is thrown casually at anyone who might be misinformed, or confused, or just hold a different opinion they aren't hurting anyone with, or who said the wrong thing in a rabid fandom, or said something that was misconstrued by a website full of people who have mastered the gymnastics of taking anything and everything in the worst faith possible?

You can engage in a good faith discussion about shit without telling someone to kill themselves. If the other person is clearly not going to engage in good faith, you should disengage entirely, not throw "kys" around as if that's every an okay thing to say to anyone.

It isn't. It isn't okay, it never will be okay, no matter how angry and jaded the person saying it is. Your anger doesn't justify the harm you do. You are always in the wrong with you tell someone to go kill themselves.

The world doesn't need any more anger and hatred and pain than it already holds. Teenagers posting their poetry on Blaze shouldn't receive suicide bait. No one should be told to kill themselves over fandom bullshit. Opposing opinions should be able to be discussed without you freaking out and telling someone to go die because obviously people never change and anyone who disagrees with you is doing it only to hurt you right? Not like they could learn something from a genuine discussion or grow as a person or anything, right?

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

[taylor511040]

Hey everyone! Me and my sister are dealing with a bullying problem right now! I'm Taylor and my sister is Alyssa! We need a solution to stop this bully! And what do you think about this email? Please put advice! We're begging! Here's what we said!:

Dear Madison/Maddie,

I just wanted to let you know that... Please don't make fun of my sister's hair and unicorn pants! You want to know how I know that? A friend of mine told me that at the end of Physical Education. Here is your lesson- You... want me to make fun of you like that? Well... the answer is no of course! (Which... You already know it is no. Duh!) Well... Don't make fun of me Because... You will know what it is like to be made fun of. And... it will make you upset and sad. I know that... the unicorn pants seems kiddish. (What I mean by kiddish is that... it seems like she is dressing like a young little girl.) She... Likes unicorns ok!! And just to let you know... NEVER JUDGE SOMEONE BEFORE YOU GET TO KNOW THEM!!! She was born with hair like that. And... there is nothing else she can do about it to fix it. Okay?! I... HAD ENOUGH OF THIS AND I'M DONE WITH IT!!! It... Needs to end!!! Don't make me... do it again. OR... ELSE!!! (One day.............. You might be able to guess what I mean by "Or Else" Bye!)

Sincerely, Alyssa B

Taylor: Hi Maddie/Madison! I wanted to send you a quick email. But it just seems you don't like that idea- So first of all, my pants! Excuse me? I can do what I want sometimes? Such as dressing up in my favorite unicorn pants, okay? Maybe you get to know me first before you start bullying me! And my hair? Well... There's not much I can do- I have been stressed out so much this week already! And I don't wanna deal with anymore drama! Period. So, please. Don't judge me based on how I look. I am so sorry for having my sister yell at you, but it still follows the dress code policy. I have been having a hard time with people ever since I've joined the School District! And people make fun of me all the time! I'm done with it! So stay away from me and my sister, or I'll be telling the principal and the school therapist. I've known you since day one Madison- Since day one- But anyway! Have a good night and see you tomorrow morning! Bye!

~Taylor B

My sister is always that person that always tries to protect me and gets upset and mad easily. And me, well, I just try to tell the person to stop politely. But Madison has been my enemy since day 1! I hate her and my sister does as also! We need help, and what do we do? What do you say to Madison about her bullying me for my unicorn pants and my hair? Write your reply in the reply so then I can tell her! She needs to know I have people on my side! Thank you guys so much! Bye! 💖

@thehenrystickminfanclub @gds-ask-fnaftale @glitterdragonthegreatprotector @helloericawang @jade-green-butterfly @lizzythetechnotroll7 @lissfreeangel @lizzythetechnotroll7 @laylayeh @poppibranchlover @staff

[psychedelic-ink]

Fever Dream

Request: Can you write a scenario of Ash making love with his s/o? Like, they would have tried multiple times in the past, but he was too scared and paranoid so it never went anymore further. But after multiple discussions and psychological help, he finally decided to have sex with his s/o and after they finish, and during aftercare, Ash starts crying because he finally took his first step into recovery. And his s/o comforts him and praises him for doing so well.

 -anon

Fandom: Banana Fish

Pairing: Ash Lynx / fem!reader

Genre: Angst / bit of fluff / Smut

All characters aged to 20+

Word Count: 1,402 K

//Contains minor spoilers//

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in my first Banana Fish request! Honestly I planned to write this much much more angsty but... I just couldn’t, I want Ash to be happy T^T Also sorry this was a bit late! I hope you enjoy this anon, I’m wishing you a great day <3

It’s been a year since Dino met his demise and Ash became truly free from his prison. Eiji had moved to Japan for a short while but then moved back to New York. Seemingly everything was perfect, you worked at a local bookstore and you lived with Ash and had a nice peaceful home. 

That is until you realized that some wounds took longer to heal. 

It all started when you kissed him. You’ve never did before that since you never wanted to make Ash feel uncomfortable. It was a lazy afternoon and just as he was reading a book, you leaned over and gave him a soft peck on the lips. 

You were pleasantly surprised when Ash leaned in to you, his lips simply tasted as heaven. With a soft moan you part your lips and with a smirk on his face his snuck his tongue in. You felt dizzy from the feeling of his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth. 

Ash’s hand traveled down your back and landed on your ass, giving it a playful squeeze, you let out a soft gasp and giggled afterwards. His hand ghosted over your hip and played with the zipper of your jeans. You mimicked his movement and your hands slid over his firm chest and towards his sweatpants. Your hand softly cupped his erect cock over the soft fabric. 

Your eyes widened when Ash flinched and pushed you away. You looked at him, confused, the blond averted his green eyes from yours a faint color of pink coloring his cheeks. 

He whispered a faint “sorry” and that’s when you understood that his dark past still lingered over him. 

                                   »»————-　♡　————-««

 Three months had passed since the day both you and Ash realized that he couldn’t have sex. There was no issue with Ash touching you, quite the contrary, the blond loved to tease you and touch you whenever he could. The problem lied more in when you touched him. There was no issues in hugging or kissing but if it got any further , he would either freeze up or move away. 

It broke your heart because he clearly felt guilty about it despite you telling him that it was okay over and over again. 

Then Ash, much surprisingly, decided that he needed help and actually started going to a therapist. You always went with him and waited until the sessions were over. You knew how much of a big deal it was. Ash wasn’t exactly a fan of opening up. 

You were always there for him. Supporting him, talking to him and saying that even if it doesn’t work out you didn’t mind it. Sex wasn’t that big of an issue as long as you had him by your side. Ash seemed to respond well to the encouragement and the therapy. 

It started out slowly. 

After countless of sessions, Ash stopped flinching away from your touch then he agreed to you giving him a blowjob. It took a couple of days until he felt relaxed enough for you to actually pleasure him completely. You didn’t mind taking it slow as long as he felt good. 

Ash laid on the bed, your lips wrapped around his cock, you look up to him. His eyes were shut closed, soft moans escaping his already parted lips, his hand on the back of your head … Ash Lynx truly looked like a greek god in his aroused state. You felt privileged that you could see such a sight. He was beautiful. 

Time passed and after a day of excruciating work, you came home to an Ash that was simply beaming with light. You raised an eyebrow and a small smile tugging at your lips, you closed the door from behind you. 

“You seem happy.” 

Ash smirked at you as he made his way towards you. Just as you slid off your coat, he caught your lips in a passionate kiss. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and in that moment the only thing you could feel was his soft lips moving against yours. He let your lips go with a pop, with half lidded eyes, panting, you stare at him. 

“I’m ready.” he said simply, tugging a loose strand behind your ear. 

Hearing that the both of you were quick to make your way towards the bedroom, your hands constantly all over each other as you did so. A second after you reached the bedroom, the both of you had shed each other from your clothes. 

You were laying on the bed as Ash grazed his lips against your skin and traveled towards your neck. He kissed your flushed skin and gave it an experimental bite. A loud moan escaped your lips as a response and Ash chuckled against your skin. 

“What lovely responses…” he whispered. 

His lips traveled from your neck towards the valley of your breasts, leaving soft kisses along the way. With one hand he cupped you breast, his fingers toying with your hardened nipple. His mouth wrapped around your other breast, his tongue mimicked the same movement he was doing with his fingers, pulling, tugging and rolling your nub between his teeth. 

Your back arched up in a response, your thighs rubbing against each other in order to get some kind of friction. Much to your dismay, Ash stopped his movements and looked up to you with a devilish glint in his jade eyes. He licked his lips and you could sweat at that moment your heartbeat stopped. 

Quickly, he pulled out a condom from his bedside table. Wrapping himself up, he lined his cock along with your arousal. He gave you one last look and you nodded with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm. 

You let out a strangled moan when Ash fully buried his cock inside of you. Letting out a satisfied sigh, your head fell back. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight y/n.” Ash breathed out.

Slowly, he started to move. You could feel the hesitation in his movements, the fear of maybe he was hurting you. To encourage him, you moaned. 

“Faster…” you whispered. 

Reaching out to him, you placed your hand on his cheek. Smiling, Ash tilted his head slightly and kissed the inside of your palm, his movements quickening, your hand fell back to your side. 

With every snap of his hips, you saw heaven. Your mind was only filled with pleasure and the only thing that you could focus on was how good Ash was making your feel. Before you can process what he was doing, Ash snuck his hand beneath your thigh and threw your leg over his shoulder. You saw stars as he went even deeper inside of you. 

“How’s… how’s that?” Ash asked, panting. 

You couldn’t even fathom a reply but knowing he had to hear it, you muster the last crumble of your collective thoughts. 

“S-So good.” you moaned out between parted lips. You could feel spit dripping down your chin, you licked your lips. 

Ash smiled at your response and shut his eyes, focusing on how good you felt wrapped around him, he bit his bottom lip. Heat starting to build up, you mewl. 

“Ash, I’m about to cum.” 

“Cum for me then.” Ash panted. “Cum.” 

That was all you had to hear. Your eyes widened as your whole upper body jolted up. Screaming his name, your inner walls clenched around his cock and you could feel your cunt throbbing around him as he continued to fuck in to you. 

“That’s right,” Ash whispered with a smirk. “ Good girl.” 

Ash was soon to follow. With one last strong thrust, he leaned in to you and bit your neck as he cum. You hissed at the sudden pain but Ash was quick to ease it and sucked your flesh. Ash laid on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breath. 

When suddenly you heard sniffles. 

“Ash?” you called out. “What’s wrong?”

Ash buried his head further in to your neck. 

“I’m just…” his breath hitched. “I’m just so happy, finally, finally I’m getting better.” 

Weakly, you lifted your hand and placed it on his head. Stroking his blond locks, you placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. 

“Yes you are.” you replied with an encouraging tone. “I’m so proud of you Ash. You’re so strong.” 

“I’m only strong because you’re by my side, y/n.”

[mx-barnes]

Soulmate AU Pt.7

Summary: When you turn 18 you get the name of a song on your wrist. That is the song you and your soulmate share. It is also how you can communicate with them.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: swearing, implied smut (I suck at writing smut so this is for the best), talk of abduction, a little bit of Bucky's trauma, pet names, Sad!Bucky, think that's it.

A/n:Sorry that this chapter is so short I am camping this week and wanted you guys to have a new part out. So I finished this before camping, I'll be logging off for the week I have a few things queued but not much. Sorry I will be back next week with my regularly scheduled post. Not edited, Charaters not my own (Marvel don't sue me) Gif not my own.

Chapter 6 Masterlist

The next morning you woke up to find James still in bed with you. You figured he’d already be up but apparently he wasn’t a morning person either. Last night was amazing you had shown him where you grew up. He seemed so entranced by everything. Maybe it was the fact that you were talking a mile a minute or he was just happy to be there with you.

Honestly, he seemed like a great guy. He hadn’t pushed you into anything last night which you know from your own shitty experiences can happen. Most of the men and women you dated tended to have an expectancy. That if you were laying down in their bed or even laying down in your bed that something was going to happen. But James didn’t seem to be like that. You were grateful.

Yes, you were soulmates. Yes, you were “made for each other” but you wanted to take it slow until you couldn’t handle slow anymore. You wanted to build a relationship first not just jump straight in. He may be your soulmate but you’ve heard of instances where soulmates moved too fast and ended up hating each other. You didn’t want that. You want a best friend, someone you could depend on.

You felt the figure stir beside you pulling you out of your thoughts. “Mornin’ doll. You sleep well?” His morning voice was beautiful. It was just the right amount of gravely to the deep tone. This man had you just swooning at his voice.

“Ya I slept great what about you handsome?” You said placing a hand on his shoulder as you snuggled closer to him.

“It was one of the best sleeps I’ve had in a while. So,” he paused looking down and chewing on his bottom lip. “My arm.”

“What do you mean your arm?” you pulled back to look at him.

“It’s- well it's metal,” he stuttered. Scared that you would reject him. Push him away maybe if you hadn’t already connected the dots. See that he was a terrible person.

“So. Listen, James,” the way you said his name made butterflies rupture in his stomach. “I can’t change it. I know about your past but everyone is so much more than their past. If we lived in the past we wouldn’t go anywhere. So as long as you don’t judge me on my past I won’t judge you on yours. We all have a story but each day we have a blank page. That story may be filled with unknown horrors but the fact that you are here and can share those horrors if you so choose is proof enough that you are a strong and capable man.”

"But if you know my past you know I killed hundreds. You deserve better than that. You deserve someone better. Someone who is broken. Some who can gi-"

"Stop. If the universe put us together it must have a reason. It must have a reason and this is not me rationalizing this. I want to be with you. You were brainwashed those terrible acts the other guy did was not your fault. You are enough for me. You are more than enough for me. Last night you followed me around my childhood home where I talked a mile a minute and you were probably bored out of your mind but you sat and listened. I talk too much, I ramble but you sat and listened to me. Listen James I know your past from the media, but I want to know your past. I want to get to know the real you. Not the one the media portrays, not the one you probably put on when you go to your therapist, the real you,” you rambled on.

His arms jut out to grab your face. Grabbing it he pulls you close you instinctively close your eyes then he hesitates you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face as he asks “Can I kiss you?”

You open your eyes. Stare into his beautiful blues for a second almost getting lost in them but manage to answer him. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

After hearing your response his face lightens you ca. See the glint in his eyes as he once again pulls you close and kisses you. Your eyes flutter shut. The kiss is soft. His lips are dry and cracked a bit but you don’t mind. It's sweet and way too short for your liking. When he pulls away you allow him and yourself to have a breath before you pull him once again.

He chuckles into the kiss. He pulls away once again and you whine. “We gotta get up doll. ‘M gonna make you the very best breakfast,” he gets up and starts to pull a shirt on. You didn’t even realize he was shirtless.

Pouting you quip “The best breakfast you could give me is if you stay in bed.”

That seems to pique his interest as he dives right back into the covers and begins kissing you once again. Let’s just say you and him had a full meal.

<~>

You must have fallen asleep again because by the time you looked over at the alarm clock it was 2 hours later.

Scrambling to get your things for work you manage to wake up James. He looks at you with such love in his eyes. “Mornin’ doll.”

It wasn’t fair how good he looked or sounded. He looked as he had been plucked from the gardens of heaven. His voice was melodic. It was drawing you back in. "Morning sorry I have to get to work I've missed the past couple of days and it's not like my boss is unreasonable but she does need her assistant. I am really sorry to just run out on you but I will be back I promise. I'll leave my number on the counter," quickly crossing the room to give him a quick cheek kiss. You ran out of the room a little disheveled but looking fairly decent. You scribbled down your number on an empty piece of paper. By the time you actually left you looked down to your watch and it was 8:30 AM.

<~>

By the time you actually got to Stark Industries, it was 9:45 AM your shift started at 9:00 sharp. Immediately you went to Peppers office. You knocked on the door hoping that she wasn't in a meeting. "Come in."

"Pepper I'm so sorry for not being here for the past couple of days. I was abducted and then I was with my soulmate and I overslept. I'm so sorry," you ramble on.

"It's ok. Wait you were abducted? By who?" Pepper almost scolds. Her face softens as she takes in the last bit of your sentence. "So you spent the night at your soulmate's house. That must've been fun. What's their name?" She questions.

"Well, his name is James Barnes. Don go off on how he's the Winter Soldier. I know he is and it's fine that wasn't him. I know I just met him but I think I'm already falling in love. He's not like any other person I've been with. Not Killian, not Amanda, not Jade, and definitely not Dawson. He's just different but a good different you know?"

"I know I can see that he makes you happy. That smile hasn't left your face since you came in here."

You hadn't even realized you were smiling. This was something that you had experience before sure your other partners made you happy but this has been a long time coming, to find that ethereal happiness.

Chapter 8

Taglist:

@oceanmermaidwitch @navs-bhat

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Science & Faith | Carlton Drake x Reader (6/?)

Words: 1575

A/N: Many references to Into the Spiderverse with changes. Reader finally meets the AU!Carlton and the other Spider people. For those who hadn't read my previous series [Apples & Cinnamon], Reader had been in a long-term relationship with Carlton, but they broke up just before the beginning events of the movie and he suffers the same fate.

-

The Return Part Two

Doctor Cho preferred for you to have more rest at home, but you couldn’t just sit around when there were so many things to be done. When you got your phone back, you had several calls from Annie and a few from Dora. You called Annie back, who was worried when she heard about the black out in New York. You assured her that you were fine and that there were people looking into what happened. The next was Dora, who hadn’t picked up on the first two tries. On the third try, she finally picked up.

“(Y/n), thank god,” she said.

“Hey, sorry about that. I hadn’t been able to use my phone for a while. What’s up?” Never mind that you had fainted in the middle of the street and ended up in medical at Stark Tower. Well, Avengers Tower now.

“A lot and I think at this point, I might have to reach out to Stark about this.”

You frowned, looking through your iPad at the emails you had to go through. “That urgent?’

“It’s about the black out.”

“Oh. Okay, um, I’ll notify Tony as soon as I can. I’m sure he’s looking into it right now, but…”

“As soon as possible, please.”

“Sure, sure.” You slowly sat down and started picking at your sleeves. “Um, I heard you were clearing out the Life Foundation. Any plans to do anything with it afterwards?”

Dora sighed, pacing around in Carlton’s old office. “I don’t know. Only a few trusted people have access to the facility right now to clear it up and to the rest of the people that used to work here, well, I’m technically dead. They don’t know that the Symbiote bonded with me.”

The two of you stayed on the phone in silence until you spoke up again. “I didn’t know he would ever do that-”

“(Y/n), please. I didn’t know, either. He just… he became a different person. And,” she added firmly, “It is not your fault for not knowing sooner. You met him at a different point in his life and then he changed. He’s… he’s gone now and we all just need time to recover from all of that… I’ll talk to you soon, (Y/n).”

You cleared your throat and nodded subconsciously. “Yeah, I’ll get you in contact with Tony as soon as I can.”

There was a weird vibe when you entered The Avengers Tower, like everyone was watching you. Was it because you fainted the other day? You didn’t think it was a big deal, but it felt like everyone was cautious around you.

“(Y/n)!” Abigail said with a strained smile, “I thought you weren’t coming in today.”

“Who said that?” you asked, casting a curious glance around the lab. “Did something happen?”

“Well- “

“(Y/n),” a woman’s voice called. You turned and saw Pepper in a white suit standing in the doorway. “Come with me… you might want to brace yourself first.”

You swallowed. What could it possibly be?

You followed Pepper out of the labs towards the communal floor where Tony was. Your shoulders must have been tense as Pepper reached over and gave them a squeeze.

“(Y/n)... we found you back in the parking garage, but you told Doctor Cho that you had driven out to the streets. Do you have any idea of how that could have happened?” Pepper asked gently.

“No,” you said, frowning.

There was a throbbing pain in your temple as you tried to make sense of the recent events. It felt like you were missing a big piece, or if anything, that you were denying that that piece was ever relevant to the puzzle. It was as if that strange puzzle piece had been separated from another puzzle that you were unable to solve, and may never be able to.

Some of the Avengers were on a mission in another country and weren’t due to be back in two weeks. There were voices that you didn’t recognize and then you heard it. The smooth voice that used to comfort you, that whispered to you promises about the future, the one that you never thought you’d hear again. Of course, until the night of the black out.

You froze in place and Pepper made sure to stand a step in front of you as the man turned to approach you. “(Y/n)!” he breathed.

“What?”

That was all you could even think of saying as you stared in bewilderment, your mind reeling at this new development of the current situation. Pepper made sure she was standing in between you and Carlton and close enough in case something happens again.

“How is this possible?” you asked, turning to your boss.

“Okay, (Y/n/n), I think you should sit down,” Tony said, stepping towards the two of you. “I’ve asked you here because I hoped that there was something that you knew that might help. Something that you didn't know was relevant. Also, he’s an annoying ass and he wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“That he’s annoying, or that you may have information?” Tony joked, earning a glare from Carlton, but it did ease the tension in your shoulders.

“Both.”

Pepper brought up a projection showing cameras around New York during the black out, the energy surge originating from Doctor Octavius’s old lab. “As we both know Doctor Octopus had been working on a project but the level of progress of it is unknown after Ock’s accident. From what I remember, Carlton Drake had met with Octavius before this all happened.”

“And you were hoping that I would know?” You crossed your arms, walking towards the projector, hoping that you could bring up any useful memory.

“This Spider squad claims to be from different realities and were teleported around the same time when the black out happened, thus having jaded Peter Parker here and emo Drakey Drake,” Tony said, gesturing a hand at the group. “You know I never pried too much in your private life, but the guy said you were engaged, so I thought to ask.”

You shook your head with a frown. “No. I never said yes to him,” you said as you tried to avoid lingering on that very day that he proposed, “And there were many things that he hid from me. But… his head researcher, Doctor Dora Skirth, is a close friend of mines. She wanted to speak to you about this. She said she found something useful that could help. It’s likely she found something of his when she was clearing up the lab.”

“Skirth, huh?” Tony muttered, allowing you to enter her contact information before calling her.

Her camera blinked into view. “Mister Stark, I’m Doctor Dora Skirth,” she said quickly, eyes downcasted as she shuffled papers around. When she raised her head, her eyes widened seeing who was standing behind you and Tony. “So, it’s true, then. He managed to finish it.”

“What do you have for us, Skirth?”

She cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses as she focused on the information she found. “I’ve managed to find blueprints of the Collider, this super machine that William Fisk commissioned to Doctor Otto Octavius. I’ll send a copy to you right now. The goal was to manipulate the bridge between worlds and use the machine to travel in between them. To restore the realities to its rightful order, we would have to create a code to input into the collider’s system to reverse the effects. Now, we don’t know how flawless this machine is, but travelling through different universes would have to mess up with their atoms as their bodies will react to being in a foreign universe.” Dora paused to gesture to the Spider group. “If it starts happening, it’ll only grow worse from here.”

Tony pointed at the group. “Anyone experiencing headaches? Upset stomach, diarrhea? Or maybe your atoms have been periodically ripped apart?”

They all nodded. You couldn’t help but note how this Carlton carried himself differently than the Carlton you knew. He stood near the front of the group, but allowed others to talk, his eyes focused as he listened closely to them. When he felt you staring, you quickly turned back to the screen where the blueprint of the Collider was now being pulled up.

“Well, then,” he said, taking a sip of whiskey, “Let’s get rocking.”

Tony offered the Spider group a place to stay at the tower before the meeting was dismissed. You turned to leave as soon as you could, ignoring the other Carlton as you walked passed. You couldn’t help but think of all the progress you had made from the emotional stress that he had caused you, pausing to assess what you were currently feeling. It wasn’t sadness. Anger and confusion, surely, but there was something else that you weren’t so sure about. How were you going to tell your therapist about this?

Little by little, there were times where your conversations with your friends back in San Francisco would brush on the subject of Carlton. Little by little, it stopped triggering a big emotional response from you. In a way, your therapist had said, you were still in some state of mourning that was slowly fading. What could have been and what you had lost.

As long as you don’t get too involved with that Carlton Drake from the other universe, it should be fine.

[harpersplay]

The first or second day after I set up this tumblr, I wrote out a tagging policy. One of my points is: I don’t use anti- tags unless posting outright hate. Criticism is not hate. We are all adults here.

I mention this because I've been watching the conversations about tagging in the Good Girls fandom (and fandoms, more broadly) - the most recent one here - and I have thoughts.

Before I start, I want to say that I am going to be explicit. I've seen people complain about being insulted by vague posts or tags (is sub-tumblring a thing like subtweeting?) so I'm going to use specific examples. I do not know these people personally. There isn't any bitterness or ill will. All I know is from what they post or the limited interactions I've had with them. Also everything I will link to is publicly available content as of the time of this post.

To try to keep this somewhat organized, I'm going to address 2 major areas: (1) Tagging etiquette, rules, standards, expectations (2) How insisting on tagging anything not completely positive as anti- stifles certain voices

Despite what some might say, there is no universal fandom tagging standard. For this fandom specifically, there's not even an agreed upon expectation for spoiler tags.  You get to set the tagging rules for your own tumblr. Even if your only rule is that you don't tag. And then other people get to decide if they'll engage with you if your tagging rules bother them.

From the posts I referenced at the beginning:

@jade-marie: Does everyone have to tag content that isn’t singing Beth‘s/the show’s praises or are we allowed to make valid criticisms? Are we allowed to say that we didn’t enjoy an episode?

@foxmagpie: What is considered "anti" is a subjective concept, you're right, but I feel like the people who I have seen talk about how the negativity is affecting them have clarified that they do not consider criticisms of the show's handling of serious topics such as race (representation or fetishization) or sexuality to be under the umbrella of "anti." They are important topics and valid criticisms, full stop. There's no argument there. Those criticisms exist in order to push the showrunners to do better.

As you can see both people use the word "valid," but who gets to decide what is valid? And that's the problem with making fandom-wide rules for tagging. Who gets to make them? Who gets to define what is discussion? Criticism? Hate?

So, to bring this back to my intro. Here is what an example of my policy, which I think is reasonable, would look like:

Anti: Annie is a dumb slut with ugly fucking eyebrows. (this is an actual sentiment I've seen multiple times in various different places, btw)

Character Tag: Discussions of Annie's failures as a parent. Analysing why Annie, who clearly loves her child, would bring strangers into their home and create a potentially dangerous situation for that child.

The character/show/episode tag is for talking about that character/show/episode. That does not mean exclusively positive things. And if you cannot handle merely scrolling by something that isn't positive in the way you choose to define it (I think criticism is positive because it allows deeper interaction with a text), then maybe you should not be on the Internet. I'm not trying to be snarky. If seeing even the slightest negative thing upsets you or ruins your day, you need to take a step back, breathe, talk to a friend or therapist, and figure out why you are having such a strong reaction. Truly, this is not snark. I know that I have personally found that digging into why something I come across online or in media prompts a certain reaction is actually a really good way to get to deeper issues. I don't think anyone should feel awful or suffer about fandom. But I also think that ultimately you are responsible for your fandom experience. And you cannot and should not expect people to make allowances for your particular needs and wants.

Now to what I consider the more important point: how insisting there is one proper way to tag, especially when that way requires *all* criticism  to be tagged anti-, stifles certain voices. Those being the voices of BIPOC fans.

Again, from the conversation linked at the beginning:

@foxmagpie: People search tags to find things that they like. In that sense, if the fandom starts an anti-tag, that also benefits the people who want to complain. It means they can find each other and anti-content easier, find people who feel the same.

I disagree with the first point. I search tags to find things I am interested in and I don't think I'm some extreme outlier about that usage. As for the rest of the comment, @jade-marie addresses why that's a problem: “A lot of this criticism is coming from POC viewers. So the second they have to start tagging their posts as “anti-Beth” so everyone can blacklist them, they no longer have a voice.”

I agree with that assessment. Some of the sentiment behind anti- tagging feels like it is intended to allow white people to happily keep their blinders on about the issues raised by POC. Because having to confront those issues will make their fandom experience unpleasant. But, you know what? Those issues make life unpleasant for some of us. We don't get to turn it off. We don't get to escape. And, honestly, that is why I don't anti- tag criticism. I want people to see it. I do. Most Western media - shit, most of the Western world - is constructed for the comfort of white people. I refuse to participate in upholding that construction. I've reblogged many many posts that address navigating fandom as a BIPOC. I have to say asking people to use anti- tags feels like being policed. Because it feels like I'm not allowed to say what I want to say unless I say it in a certain way. There are lots of issues with the show and people should be made aware of them.

And now I'm going to use a very specific example of a POC voice (mine!) trying to navigate this fandom: Boland Bubbles and it's gross cultural appropriation (PLEASE re-read my 3rd paragraph before continuing. This is explicit for the sake of clarity, not to start shit).  I did not yet have a tumblr when I sent this anon ask because that tumblr had shown a willingness to engage in discussions like this before: “The theme of the Grand Opening of Boland Bubbles, and please let it just be just for the grand opening and not the permanent decor, is cultural appropriation. The fact that no one is talking about it is upsetting. For anyone curious, there is plenty of material ranging from scholarly journal articles to blog posts about the especially insidious nature of this appropriation given the U.S.'s colonial and imperialist relationship with Hawaiʻi.”

In her reply, she said, "I also think the best way to see a conversation you want to see is to start it!"

And that's true. But my point was that I had not seen (up to that point on IG, Twitter, or Tumblr) anyone talking about it. Why is that important?

In the conversation linked at the beginning, she says: “Scrolling past is an option, of course it is. But the reason that’s so difficult right now is that we’re in a live season and there is an abundance of posts happening at key moments—during a new episode, when trailers drop, or when promo photos are released. Scrolling past isn’t quite an option when it’s 90% of my feed, which is again why I personally expressed that I might disengage.”

So, a trailer drops. A trailer featuring blatant cultural appropriation. I go to Tumblr to look thru the tag and what do I see? Post after post after post about how pretty Beth looks with the flower behind her ear. And the gifs and the edits. People had time to process the trailer and no one saw anything wrong with it. So I said something. Because my fandom experience was being unable to scroll past 100% of the tag ignoring something very serious. And then another anon brought up Beth's comment about cultural appropriation in 2x10. Really? In that same scene Beth says that Africa - the entire continent - didn't have gluten issues, which is beyond ignorant.

(not so quick aside: No, Beth does not have to be perfect. No, Beth can make shitty comments & choices just like dumb male characters have done since the invention of the dramatic arts. No one is saying that. Or rather, no one that I've seen and engaged with says that. But even a criticism about Boland Bubbles turns into a defence of Beth. Why? Why the instinctive need to make sure every possible criticism related to Beth is countered? Why especially when Beth's glaring white feminism is a problem for a lot of the BIPOC audience.)

Ok, then the episode airs and I express my dismay about the cultural appropriation of the "One Night in Bangkok" event. It got 4 notes. I guess people weren't interested in the discussion after all. But an anon brings it up with @pynkhues. And she makes a distinction between Boland Bubbles and the event, which allows for Beth to be seen in a positive way. I responded to her post with why they were both cultural appropriation. And, despite her and some other anons previously saying that discussions about cultural appropration were something they would welcome, crickets. And it's hard not to think that's because my criticism is centered on Beth. Maybe not? Again, that's just what it feels like when any Beth criticism is met with claims of misogyny. There is nothing remotely misogynistic in either post I made.

So how does this fit into anti- tagging? My posts were ignored even though they were in the general show tag. Now imagine I had tagged my very valid criticism as anti-. Then people wouldn't even had needed to scroll by to ignore it. And what does that say to me as a POC fan? That my concerns don't matter. That is a distinctly unpleasant fandom experience.

For a good intro about racism in fandoms, please check out this tumblr: @fandomshatepeopleofcolor

[sylvies-chen]

Brettsey please “so not to be rude or anything but i’ve been coming to this cemetery at this time on this day every week for fucking years and i’ve always been alone up until now seriously what the hell” au

Ok anon I REALLY have to apologize because this request has been sitting in my inbox for probably a month or two now but I didn’t get the inspo to finish this until last night. That being said, I got this into a short little oneshot so I hope you enjoy!!

Tags: alternate universe, grief, mourning, light emotional hurt/comfort, meet cute

Word count: 2922

183 days.

It’s been 183 days since Sylvie last visited Julie. 183 days thinking about how things should have been different. How Julie was supposed to survive, how her and Scott and Amelia were supposed to be a family. How Sylvie was supposed to reconnect with her, to finally know the woman who had given Sylvie her own life’s blood.

She was supposed to have more time.

Instead, Sylvie ends up feeling like more of a stranger to Julie than ever. The last time she visited was the funeral, and that hadn’t done much for her in terms of closure. If anything, it made her feel more out of place. Random strangers came up to her, asking how she knew Julie. Sylvie can still remember the confused looks on their face as she’d told them Julie was her birth mother who had given her up at sixteen years old, and the awkward condolences that came stuttering out of their mouths afterwards. She’d felt too guilty eventually, and left early. Who the hell was she anyway, to be tainting everyone’s view of her birth mother at her own funeral?

She hasn’t been to visit Julie’s grave ever since. All Sylvie had done was stay with parents for a few days to clear her head. A few days turned into a few weeks, and then a few months. Today marks month six of her stay there. Her parents had told her they’d be happy to have her. They hadn’t been receptive to the idea of Sylvie meeting Julie in the first place, so they were more than willing to help her through the loss. The only condition was that she had to go to therapy and work through her grief, which Sylvie happily agreed to. But last week, her therapist suggested she visit Julie’s grave to get ‘true closure’, whatever that means. It’s a strange idea to Sylvie but nothing else seems to be working. Her boss had assured her that Fowlerton was much too peaceful (the polite way of calling the town boring, and rightfully so) and it would do just fine without its favourite paramedic for a few days. So, reluctantly, she accepted.

That’s why Sylvie’s now halfway through an hour-long drive to Chicago, all the way back to the cemetery. She buys hydrangeas at a tiny flower shop she passes by when she first enters Chicago territory. They’re Julie’s favourite. They were Julie’s favourite

Her fingers anxiously tap at the wheel when she finally pulls into the cemetery. It’s a dreary Sunday, grey clouds hovering in the sky bringing the prominent threat of rain. The graveyard is empty when she gets there, from the looks of it, except for one single person. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a man around her age sitting on a bench near a grave, his eyes observing her curiously from over his shoulder. He’s not someone she knows-- she doesn’t really know many people here in Chicago after all-- but she ignores his lingering eyes. Shades of grey stick out against the field of green and wilted flowers are scattered across other tombstones. It feels like a ghost town, for lack of a better term. It’s gloomy and it looks like no one’s visited this place in a while. Even for a cemetery, the sight is a depressing one.

Sylvie slams her car door shut and takes a deep breath. Relax, she thinks. Just a quick drop by to see her, place the flowers, and then leave. You can get through this.

She makes a beeline towards Julie’s grave, less than 100 feet away, and stops dead in her tracks when she gets there. Her feet feel heavy in her pink rain boots, sticking out like a sore thumb against her black coat as she observes the tombstone.

Julie Walters

Loving wife and daughter

1973 - 2019

Sylvie doesn’t know how to feel reading those words. A whole life, one she only scratched the surface of, reduced to a mere four words and eight numbers. It’s underwhelming, and she doesn’t know whether to feel relieved that Julie’s entire being wasn’t etched onto stone or insulted that they could summarize her in so few words.

Maybe it’s for the best. What else would they put on there anyway: that she was a flawed human who left behind a child who she wasn’t ready to have, only to die before she could see her second daughter years later when she was finally ready for one? When she was finally ready to reconcile with her first born? Yeah, it was definitely for the best.

She places the bouquet of hydrangeas on the wet grass next to the tombstone and stands back. Man, this is harder than she thought. The words are there, racing in her head, but they don’t come out. Every time she wants to say something, it gets caught in the back of her throat.

Sylvie’s trying to pick from a list of infinite questions and countless ways to begin when she feels a chill on the back of her neck. At that moment, a voice comes from behind her. “Hi, are y--”

“Ah!” Sylvie shrieks, the voice startling her. She nearly jumps out of her skin as she turns around in shock, only to see a guy standing in front of her. It’s the same guy, she realizes, that had been staring at her earlier. Now, up close, she guesses that he can’t be all that much older that she is. He has blonde hair that’s short at the back and longer at the front, his eyes a soft shade of blue-green. His jacket and boots are a little worn but other than that, he looks completely normal. Except for the fact that he’s the only other person in this whole cemetery, and he just came up to her from behind without making a sound.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he assures her, his hands up in surrender.

“Oh, uh, it’s okay.” Sylvie lets out a big breath, shaking off the nerves from the jumpscare.

“Not to be rude or anything, but I just-- I’m usually the only one here,” he explains awkwardly.

“Are you a groundskeeper or something? I can leave if you guys need me to.”

“No no,” he laughs bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “I work in construction, actually. But I’ve uh.. I’ve been coming here the same time, every Sunday for years now to visit my dad. Nobody’s ever here when I am, so I figured you must be new.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she offers. So okay, he’s not such a creep after all. Actually, he’s kind of sweet. “He must have been a really great dad, for you to be visiting him every week after all these years.”

“He… had his moments,” the man explains delicately. “Honestly, he wasn’t the most affectionate guy. I guess I just don’t want to end up like him. Jaded and cruel.”

Sylvie nods understandingly, because she gets it. Her parents are loving and supportive, but she’s had some exes that have put her through the ringer. Her first real love, Harrison, had been manipulative and heartless. She’s always hoped that these awful guys wouldn’t change her for the worse either.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all of this. I’ll get out of your hair,” he offers. “But uh, here. Take this.” The guy holds out a single rose, which Sylvie accepts.

Her eyebrows narrow in confusion at the gesture. “A rose?”

“Yeah, well, my dad has been getting a dozen roses a week from my family since I was 17, he won’t turn over in his grave if he gets 11 just this one time. I’m sure whoever you’re grieving could use it a lot more than he could.”

Sylvie’s confused expression softens into gratitude, a faint smile pulling at her lips. This guy, whoever he is, didn’t have to do this for her. It’s a sweet gesture. He really does seem nice. No catches, no mind games, just simple and kind. She hasn’t met a guy like that in a while, at least not one her age. “That’s actually really sweet, thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I’m Sylvie, by the way,” she introduces herself awkwardly. Everything about this situation is awkward, frankly. But she extends her free hand anyway. “Sylvie Brett.”

“Matt Casey. I wish it were under nicer circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you.” His smile is wide as he takes her hand and shakes it. It’s confusing, but it makes Sylvie smile all the same.

“You seem awfully cheerful for someone who’s in a graveyard,” she observes.

“Like I said: I’ve been doing this for a while. I’m sort of all talked out now,” Matt explains with a shrug.

“Right,” she nods. “I wish I could relate. Normally I’m the one who’s cheerful and talkative, but it’s hard with this sort of thing. Everything I want to say just doesn’t seem to come out. Sometimes, I think if I start talking…”

“You’ll never stop?” He guesses.

“Yeah.” How did he know?

“Well I can tell you from experience that you definitely do stop talking at one point. I got all talked out two years ago. I looked around one day and realized I was talking about types of screwdrivers to my dad’s grave with no one else around. Eventually, you’ll run out of topics like I did. And then new ones will come, and you’ll talk some more, and then you get quiet again and then you just… stop talking.”

“I hope so. I’m a big talker-- I mean seriously, I never shut up-- but I just… I don’t know where to start with this one,” she explains.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who are you visiting?”

“Julie Walters.” She points to the tombstone in front of them. “My birth mother.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Sylvie’s heard those six little words before. She had to stomach every single insincere, fake utterance of sympathy when she was at the funeral. But for some reason, the way Matt says it to her makes her think he really means it. She’s not used to people meaning it when they offer their condolences. It’s strange. Then again, this whole interaction is strange. “It’s okay,” she brushes it off.

“It’s not. At least, it doesn’t have to be,” he soothes. Something about his voice is so horrifyingly comforting. It’s calm and low, and it feels like warm tea and honey in her ears. It’s enough to make her want to burst into tears right then and there .

Sylvie takes a deep breath and then, before she can stop herself, breaks the silence to ramble. “I love my parents, you know? They raised me, they fed me, they’re responsible for the person I’ve become. But I’d always wondered where I came from, why my birth parents gave me up for adoption. And when Julie sought me out, I panicked at first. I wasn’t ready to give up that fantasy in my head of who she was, to have all my questions answered. But now I’m standing here, visiting her grave for the first time in the six months since her funeral by recommendation of my stupid grief counselor, and I… I just can’t stop thinking of all the questions I was too scared to ask. And man, it sucks.”

Matt stands there and nods understandingly, his gaze unwavering even as she turns her eyes towards Julie’s tombstone.

“I’m sorry,” she continues, wiping tears from her cheek. “We just met, and I’m rambling, and--”

“No no, it’s good for you,” he assures her. “ And I don’t mind it, I-- I like hearing you talk.”

“Oh.” Sylvie looks around, unsure of what to say. This Matt Casey guy, whoever he is, hasn’t run for the hills by now which is strange to say the least. But weirdly, it’s comforting.

“You’re right, you know,” he continues, switching the subject. “It sucks. Life… life sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” she agrees, letting out a small laugh. This makes Matt laugh a little, which makes Sylvie laugh even more, until they’re both smiling and giggling in a cemetery like a bunch of blushing lunatics. It’s quite possibly the weirdest thing Sylvie’s ever experienced and yet somehow, it’s exactly what she needed. A bright light in the vast sea of darkness.

“You’re smiling again, that’s a good sign.”

“It is,” she agrees. “Am I crazy for that? I mean, I’m smiling and laughing in a graveyard with somebody I just met. Isn’t that weird?”

“A little,” he admits with a shy laugh. “But you’re not crazy. Sometimes people need a little bit of weirdness in their lives.”

“I guess stranger things have happened,” Sylvie shrugs playfully.

“Yeah.” He flashes her another smile before turning his attention towards Julie’s grave and facing it with her. Sylvie stares at the marked stone. She fondly remembers the few memories she had with Julie, and the countless ones they never got around to. It’s unfortunate, really, but it feels more manageable with someone there. Even if it’s someone she barely knows. Matt stands with her for a moment, the peace and quiet taking over. It’s nice. Sylvie’s never had silence be so comforting; it’s always made her anxious and uncomfortable up until now. Matt sure is a puzzling guy in that sense. She sneaks a peek at him through the corner of her eye, this guy who’s supporting her even though they just met. He’s lost someone too, he could be going back to his father’s tombstone. Instead, he’s staying there with her. Sylvie decides at that moment that Matt Casey is an unfailingly kind, weirdly solid guy. And, admittedly, a little attractive. Ok, a lot attractive.

“Hey, and don’t worry,” she adds after a few minutes of silence, “about being like your father. We aren’t our parents. And you seem… good. That’s all you can ask for I guess, is to be one of the good ones.”

“Thanks,” he nods, his eyes filled with a bit of confusion and a bit of something else Sylvie can’t quite place. Wonder, almost.

Sylvie turns back to Julie’s grave, tracing over the words with her eyes. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel so scary. Sylvie’s still sad, and wounds take time to scar over, but it doesn’t feel like she’s bleeding out anymore. She sighs, and she can sense the weight on her shoulders blowing away into the wind.

Unfortunately, when the sorrow blows away with the wind, it brings in the rain.

“Oh god,” Matt groans, wincing while looking up just on time to catch a raindrop in his eye. He squints and turns to Sylvie, who’s standing there laughing. “I didn’t see this in the weather forecast for today.”

“Me neither,” she giggles. “Today’s full of unexpected things, I guess.”

“It is.” He gives her a shy smile, nodding in agreement.

“Do you mind the rain?” She asks, looking up at the gloomy sky with a smile on her face.

“No,” he replies gently.

“Me neither.”

They stand there, hoods pulled away from their heads, letting the rain wash over them. There’s no shelter in sight anyway. They talk for a while about Chicago, about their lives, their friends, things that make them happy. But then they fall into a comfortable silence, smiling peacefully in the rain. Sylvie only moves a few times to brush raindrops off of the bouquet of flowers she’d placed at Julie’s grave. She looks at it, the name and the date etched in stone, and she doesn’t feel sick anymore. No questions unanswered, no bitterness. Her loss feels manageable.

She’s okay. More than okay.

“Hey, this might sound a little crazy, and I know we just met,” Matt starts after a while, “but would you want to… go get dinner or something?”

“What, like a date?” She snorts at her own joke, the idea being very nice in theory but impossible. It’s seriously impossible that this guy is actually asking her out, right?

“Er, yeah,” he nods. “Like a date.”

Oh. Okay, so he was asking her out. This is unfamiliar territory for Sylvie. She’s been asked out before, of course, by the small-town idiots in Fowlerton. But by an admittedly very good-looking stranger, under these circumstances no less? It’s a bit of a bizarre situation. That’s the crux of it, though. Matt Casey, whoever he is under all these sweet, charming layers, doesn’t feel like a stranger. Somehow, through one chance encounter, it feels like catching up with an old friend.

When she considers the facts, she’s had fun today. Every interaction they’ve had has come with such ease, and from a place of goodness and light. Yeah, maybe it’ll go absolutely nowhere. But one date in a public place won’t hurt her. She’s in Chicago for the rest of the weekend anyway. If anything, going out with someone like Matt Casey would do her a lot of good. And she hadn’t realized it until now but god, she really really wants to. So she does.

“I’d like that,” she finally replies while brushing rain off of her coat.

“Yeah?” He asks to make sure, his face lighting up with hope and slight excitement. Sylvie finds it adorable.

“Yeah,” she assures him.

He nods and grins excitedly as he leans in closer, and Sylvie feels the happiest she’s felt in a long time when he finally replies. “Me too.”

[five-miles-over]

Blackout (Willie Gutierrez x Reader)

(image source: pinterest.com)

Summary: The reader is Willie Gutierrez’s new neighbor, and the two of them accidentally meet during a power outage when the reader wants to borrow a lighter for some candles

Word Count: 1,588

Warnings: mentions of weapons and murder, as well as references to the plot of ‘The Yards’

They'd only been apart for a week and already he had a new lover hanging off his arm.

For most people living in the run-down apartment complex, situated in the darkest, grittiest section of The Bronx, tonight was just like any other Friday night. After another day at their miserable 9-to-5, minimum-wage jobs, they’d saunter on home and either drink away a large portion of their paycheck or fall asleep in front of their television with a frozen dinner.

But for Willie Gutierrez, it was a night for celebration…a celebration of survival. This Friday marked his first week since he’d been released after 5-year-long sentence that he swore permanently took a part of his sanity. Even though there would be a parole officer visiting him twice a week, Willie was finally free to get his life back and live in society. As soon as the rays of the setting sun caught his eye, Willie cracked open a Miller beer and began scrolling through his cell phone.

I guess he finally got over his thing for Erica, Willie grunted as he looked at the photo. In an effort to be courteous, Leo Handler - Willie’s friend from grade school - sent a picture of himself with his arm around a blonde girl wearing a slip dress and Doc Marten shoes. He really had no need to try maintaining their relationship, visiting Willie in prison and calling him every week, especially not after all the trouble Willie had gotten him into. Maybe it was Leo’s mother who encouraged her son to let the past remain in the past.

Though for Willie, following that advice would be a task much easier said that done.

On the night he killed Erica, Willie remembered hearing a story from Leo’s step-uncle about Leo and Erica being in love despite their relationship as cousins., and how those two were caught having sex once. Even though it had been a while since that fateful night, it still made Willie cringe to think of them doing it. He wouldn’t have felt as bad if he’d found out one of his friends was Erica’s ex, but the fact that it was her cousin and his best friend - who’d taken jail time for their gang - made Willie want to vomit even now.

“Fuck.”

The lightbulb fizzled out like a dying fly, and the heating suddenly stopped, leaving his entire apartment completely dark and cold.

As he took in the view from the twentieth floor, the lights seemed to go out all over the city. Swearing under his breath, Willie slumped onto the couch and tried his best to take another swig of beer. He didn’t exactly have the wildest plans for tonight, but it’s not like he wanted to be stuck in a blackbox with no means of any entertainment.

A few moments later, Willie perked up when he heard a knock followed by an unfamiliar voice.

“Hello, is anyone home?”

Willie remained silent, wishing that his gun were here right now in case the voice belonged to a robber. Unfortunately, concealed carry for  had a bit too much red tape for Willie’s liking. Not even getting in touch with Frank, his ex-boss, would help him get a gun for self-defense. Frank probably wanted nothing to do with Willie at this point, even if he was released for good behavior.

“I’m not a telemarketer, or anything. I’m your neighbor.” The voice added. "And I'm not armed."

"What do you want?" Willie muttered under his breath.

"A lighter would be nice," You replied. "Or some matches - could you open the door please? I swear I'm not here to hurt you."

Covering his eyes, he was blinded temporarily by the flashlight you held up so he wouldn't bump into you "Geez, you don't have to point that fucking thing at me!"

"Sorry…just wanted to make sure that you knew what I looked like." Sheepishly, you introduced yourself to him, telling him your name and how recently you'd moved into the building.

"I'm Willie, yeah…I'm new too. Why did you need lighters?"

You gestured to your other hand, which held a few candles. A flashlight probably wasn't going to last you all night, and even though your apartment was a literal shoebox, some candlesticks would provide enough brightness until the power came back on.

"Oh."

"So…may I borrow your lighter, please?"

"I would, but this is my only one."

"…And you don't trust me because you think I won't return it to you?"

After a moment of silence between the two of you, you invited Willie over to your apartment just so that he could take the lighter when you were done with it. And you secretly were hoping that Willie would turn out to be good company.

He internally debated for a few moments before accepting your proposition. On one hand, you seemed like a decent person…a decent person who probably just ended up in this place because you couldn't afford a nicer building, not because you had just gotten out of prison. On the other hand, you probably didn't know that he was a criminal and a murderer - how could he completely trust you, let alone accept an invitation into your home? He didn't even want to tell you his last name, just in case you'd seen it in the newspapers. Then again, it wasn't like he knew anybody else here except for his parole officer, and taking a chance might just be the thing he needed to get back to his old extroverted, adventurous self.

"So, what floor do you live on?"

"The same one as yours, Willie. The twentieth," You answered with a chuckle, leading him inside your home. "Can I get you something to drink - water, beer, or something?"

"Beer sounds fine."

You lit the candles in your apartment before heading to the fridge and handing him a bottle of hopefully-still-cold beer. Gladly accepting the drink, Willie sneakily tried to get a better look at you while you poured yourself another round of your favorite alcohol.

Amongst the candles, you actually looked quite pretty, maybe someone he wouldn't mind seeing more often. He'd most likely never seen you before because he rarely left the apartment over the past week, let alone his room.

On Monday, he could barely get out of bed because of how overwhelming it all felt - starting over from scratch with no friends, no family members, and no former acquaintances. He kept thinking about where to begin, and whom to ask for help. Tuesday and Wednesday, with a little help from his parole officer and prison therapist, he was able to enroll himself in some economics classes from a local college, and a part-time thing as a cashier at a drugstore. Thursday was spent mostly in bed again; it was a 'relapse', as Willie called it. And on Friday, he went out grocery shopping for the first time. Even though most of the stuff he picked out was instant, ready-to-eat food that required little to no preparation, it was still a good start.

"Power outages suck," you muttered, taking a sip.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I remember getting them sometimes when I lived in Queens."

"You lived in Queens?" "My whole life, yeah."

For almost three hours, the two of you continued to make some small talk. You eventually told him that you had recently graduated, and now working somewhere in the Bronx. It wasn't the greatest job in the world, but at least it got you a place to live and paid the bills. You told him a little about your home town, along with a silly thing or two about your childhood.

Willie felt himself relax a little more, hearing you talk about your life. He wished that maybe someday, he'd be able to talk about his past with the same ease that you seemed to have. In addition, you had a really great voice that was nice to listen to, though he wouldn't say that out loud. He didn't want to seem like he was coming onto you too suddenly. Plus, he didn't know if you were even looking for a relationship, or if you were already taken.

Just when you were almost finished telling a story, the lights buzzed back on with a crackle. "Look at that." You sighed, a part of yourself wishing that the power would not return for a while just so that Willie could be over for a bit longer.

"Yeah…power's back. I should probably head back. Besides, it's really late."

"Don't forget your lighter," you joked, reminding him why you originally invited him over to your place. Willie thanked you for your company and laughed a little, his jade-green eyes bearing a slight twinkle.

You walked him over to his place, a mere few steps away from yours, and the two of you discussed the possibility of maybe having dinner together sometime. It wasn't meant to be a date or anything, but just an opportunity for you to hang out as neighbors. You were both alone in a new city, and agreed that it would be great to have at least one familiar face to depend on.

"Good night…neighbor." He disappeared behind his door with a smug wink, proud of himself for taking a chance with you. Just like a poker player with a royal flush, he'd undoubtedly won this round.

"Good night, Willie."

[kabira]

05 | job hunting

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.9k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — so...you might have noticed some changes to the pairing. i’ve decided to go ahead and convert this to an x ofc fic because when it’s a 3rd person pov thing the ‘you’ pronoun kind of jumps out at you and it just sounds really unnatural lol. she’s been left race-ambiguous in the description, and she’s pretty cool, so i hope you like her !! even though she doesn’t show up very often djskalskjs

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Vernon stepped out into the open, finding himself on the highest level of the Helicarrier—not the top floor, but the deck itself.

The wind was strong, pushed by the rotator blades keeping the carrier in the air, and he shivered on feeling the sudden chill descend upon him. He hesitated, resting his palm against the side of one of the structures containing the blades, and glanced around. The aircraft was massive, big enough that despite being right next to the Quinjet runway, he couldn’t see any of the city beneath.

When he finally spotted White Tiger, she was sitting near the edge, mask in hand. At first, he was apprehensive about her being spotted, but when he got close enough, he realized they were way to high for anyone on the ground to be able to make out her features.

New York was easily a couple thousand feet below them, the tallest buildings looking like toy figurines from the high vantage point. The harbor glittered a dark blue-green underneath them, catching the dying light of the sunshine like little stars contained in the water. It was a breathtaking sight, so beautiful that it washed away Vernon’s initial fear as easily as a wave clearing away dug letters on a sandy beach.

He glanced at Yeji, pressing his teeth against his lower lip. She had her back to him, shoulders tensed—of course she would have heard him approach. Her hair was still up in a ponytail, but swayed lightly with the breeze. Even as he stood behind her, she said nothing, remaining silent and stony as she stared down at the view below.

“It’s nice up here,” he murmured. “Unless you have a crippling fear of heights, that is.”

Silence.

Vernon sighed to himself, slowly taking a seat next to her on the sun-heated deck, and pulled off his mask. The air was cool against his sweat-soaked skin, but did nothing to set his heart at ease. That was the hard part, one he had to figure out himself.

“So, White Tiger, huh?” he asked, scrunching up his nose as he looked at her sideways. Her chin rested on her folded forearms, which were balanced against her knees, legs crossed at the ankles. It should have been a relaxed posture, but her muscles were too tense, standing out like steel cables on her arms and sides. “Do your powers have anything to do with that jade amulet you wear?”

She unfolded herself, unconsciously touching the amulet that hung from one side of her gray belt. It was a vibrant green color, looking fragile like glass, but despite her generally offensive style of fighting, there wasn’t a single scratch on it. “It was my father’s,” she answered dully. “And my grandfather’s before him. The amulet is a family heirloom that passed down to me when the rest of my family died, and with it, the powers it bestows upon the bearer.”

“Oh,” he said, a little surprised. He hadn’t expected her to speak, but she had opened up, despite the still guarded tone of her voice. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked out at the view, feeling calmer than before, but also a lot more awkward. “Are you afraid of the water?”

She glanced over at him, a confused scowl on her face. “What?”

“The water,” he repeated, indicating the harbor with a tilt of his head. “Aren’t cats supposed to be scared of water or something?”

Her eyes narrowed, but not before he caught the glimmer of amusement in them. “I’m not a cat,” she said. “The amulet gives me the agility and tenacity of a white tiger, but not all its fears. Are you afraid of house lizards, spider boy?”

“Well, one in particular.” He half-smiled. “But he’s back to human now, so I guess not really.”

She gave him a small smile back, one that indicated she got the joke. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it made him feel a bit better—which was funny, since he was the one supposed to be comforting her. He recalled Luce’s words from their earlier conversation. There’s no harm in being decent.

“Look,” he started, reaching up to rub the side of his neck, “I’m sorry about what I said back there. You said you knew I didn’t like you guys, but that’s not true. It’s just—it’s a sudden change,” he mumbled. “To have a whole team of supers in the school, and so soon after the—incident, it just set me off.”

She said nothing, waiting for him to continue. He shook his head. “You probably don’t know what happened a few weeks ago, and what happened, it’s not your fault. Heck, it doesn’t even have anything to do with you.” He laughed weakly. “The incident that took place, it followed a regular pattern I already should have known. When superhero stuff and real life mix, nothing good comes out of it. I wasn’t prepared for you guys, and I took it badly. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Yeji hummed. For a few moments, they sat in silence, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. For Vernon, it felt good to get all of that off his chest. It was hard to admit to something because of his pride, but putting it out there made him feel a bit better. No one liked seeing their faults, but to him, it was better than hurting someone he didn’t really want to hurt. In a way, even the superheroes around him were innocent people who could become collateral damage.

“What incident?” she asked.

He glanced at her, a little confused. She stared back at him with her eyebrows arched, as if expecting him to say something. “Sorry, what?”

“I told you about my family, how I came to be in possession of my powers,” she said. “Your turn. What incident were you talking about?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, staring at her thoughtfully. “Do you know Harry Osborn?” he asked at length.

She nodded. “The Goblin—I mean, Norman Osborn’s son.” She gave him a curious look. “Wasn’t he at Midtown with you?”

“Yeah.” He looked away again, studying the lenses of his mask. Speaking about it was difficult, and he wasn’t too sure about instantly opening up about such a horrific incident to someone he had met two days ago, but his instinct told him he could trust White Tiger. Either way, there was no harm in talking about that day, at least not the general aspects of it. “And you probably also know about how Norman Osborn was taken down.”

She nodded again, slower this time, looking thoughtful. “Wasn’t there a bargaining chip of some kind involved?” she asked. “Wait, sorry. I meant a human hostage.”

“Yeah,” Vernon murmured. He hung his head, running his spandex-covered fingers over the cloth of his mask, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in his throat, but it hurt to do that, like there was a thorn stuck in his flesh. “Long story short, Harry Osborn…well.”

Yeji glanced at him in surprised concern, and he looked away, avoiding her gaze. Now would come the pitying glance, the awkward condolences, the unsure silence. He had had enough of that in the past few weeks.

“I get it,” she said, to his immense surprise. When he looked back at her, her eyes were sad, but there was a firmness beneath them, like stable ground at the bottom of the river. Even if she didn’t quite know all the details, they both spoke the language of loss, and it didn’t need words to be understood.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said.

“I won’t.” She turned her face away, towards the sky, and he followed suit. The silence this time was more than comfortable, it was comforting. “No more details?”

Despite himself, he smiled. “Not yet,” he replied. “You have to get past level twenty first.”

She snorted a laugh. “I don’t really play video games,” she answered. “It’s a little difficult to fit in when you live in the same quarters as a couple of teenage boys, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“Really? You can drop by after school sometimes and I’ll show you.” He grinned, then grimaced. “Or maybe Aunt May can. I’m not the best at them, she kicks my butt on Night game night every time.”

“She sounds amazing already. I can’t wait to meet her,” Yeji said, smiling. “And while we’re on the subject of family—argh, I’m totally going to sound like Agent Fox, but here’s the thing.” She shifted her weight, sitting with her legs crisscrossed. “I know it’s hard to deal with loss, and that it’s different for everybody, but protectors feel guilt on a different level than everybody else—and you can’t carry that kind of weight around with you.”

Vernon picked at a small cut on the leg of his costume. “Agent Fox,” he repeated. “You too, huh?”

Yeji winced. “Therapists aren’t really equipped to deal with our kind of experiences,” she said. “I mean, what do you say to someone who had to physically fight their best friend’s dad because he turned into a genetically enhanced green monster?”

He laughed.

“Agent Fox might not be your best bet, but there are other things you can try,” she continued. “I know you probably don’t want some kind of preachy advice, but for me, being White Tiger helped.” She ran her fingers along the grooves of her amulet again, as if deriving comfort through its touch. “Doing something, even little things that just keep your mind off the past, it helps.”

He thought back to Luce’s words. “Like getting a job?”

Yeji frowned. “I guess,” she said. “If it doesn’t take over your time as Spider-Man, that is.”

“That’s twice in a day someone’s advised me to get a job,” he said. “Maybe I really should go ahead and get one.”

“Maybe you should,” she agreed. “But I have a feeling most normal jobs won’t interest you. If you’re going to work, might as well work on something you’ll enjoy.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, the gears of his brain already having been kicked into action. “I think I already have something in mind.”

The last time Vernon had met Dr. Curt Connors, it had been as Spider-Man.

It was not an experience he had particularly enjoyed, since it had been one of his bigger fights had had left him with a hairline fracture and a few bruised ribs, holed up in his room for a week to nurse himself. Gym had been worse than usual that Tuesday.

As he pushed through the revolving doors at the entrance of Roxxon Industries, he was already beginning to regret his decision a little bit. Sure, there was no way that Dr. Connors could know his secret alter ego, but the knowledge didn’t help his nervousness one bit.

Plus, with Oscorp pretty much in ruins, the research scientist had shifted his work to a different corporation, and Vernon didn’t know his way around the new building at all. It was a tiny thing to be so worried about, especially for a person who had faced Doc Ock at the age of sixteen, but even the little things seemed big now that he was out job hunting.

Vernon clutched his father’s briefcase tighter, taking his visitor’s pass from the front desk and heading up the escalator to the designated room. Dr. Connors had met Vernon Parker exactly once before, when the latter had shown up at his old laboratory asking about his father, Richard Parker, Connors’s former colleague.

Back then, their conversation had been cut short by a Spidey emergency, and after that the only time he’d been able to see the doctor was while battling him as the Lizard. Vernon had been too afraid to go back afterwards, scared of the decades old formula Connors had developed which turned him into the monster, and what he might discover about his father’s work.

But Dr. Connors had made him a proposal that the boy remembered three months later—that Vernon was always welcome to come work at his lab. Now, the idea of being a simple research assistant didn’t sound very great, especially when the project was so controversial that its funding had been hanging by a thread even at Oscorp, where they weren’t exactly known for their safe experiments. However, biophysics had always been fascinating to him, not to mention the fact that it was his father’s legacy.

He guessed it was about time he went back to claim it.

Vernon stood in front of the door awkwardly, unsure what he was going to say. But he lifted his hand, and he knocked.

“Come in,” came the doctor’s voice from behind the door, and Vernon took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The room was bigger than he had expected it to be. It definitely wasn’t just an office, with multiple tables and various small instruments and charts held down by random objects acting as paper weights spread across them. Tall shelves lined the wall behind the main desk and the one opposite it, stuffed with old and new volumes. The doctor’s table itself was pushed into a corner to make way for everything else, but despite the packed space, everything was organized. It was a pattern Vernon knew from his own room: order in chaos.

Dr. Connors was standing behind his desk, reading through a paper on a clipboard in his hand. He looked up as Vernon entered, and a range of emotions flashed through his eyes when he saw him—first confusion, then recognition, then fear, then guilt. Finally, the doctor smiled, straightening as he placed the board back on his table.

“Vernon,” he said, and Vernon felt a thrill upon seeing that he remembered his name. “A face I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Vernon tried to press his lips into a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. “I would have come by earlier, but what with midterms and everything happening in the city…” He hesitated. “I was just a little afraid, I guess.”

“I understand,” Dr. Connors said, and it wasn’t just an empty phrase, like he actually understood Vernon’s fear of facing his father’s past. But then, maybe he did. “I would have liked to see you again after our conversation was cut short, but perhaps a few months’ lapse in between was necessary.”

Vernon thought back to the Lizard incident a couple of months ago, when Dr. Connors had injected himself with an underdeveloped serum, turning himself into a giant lizard. “I read your recent article on the lizard formula,” he said slowly.

The doctor’s hand froze on the table for a moment, but relaxed just as quickly. He looked up at Vernon with a gentle sort of intelligence in his eyes, a look so different from the Lizard’s that he had trouble believing they could be the same person. “Did you, now?” he asked. “And what did you think of it?”

“Genius,” he breathed, and Dr. Connors’s eyes lit up even more. “I looked through my dad’s old papers, and cross-checked the changes with your research.” He opened his mouth and closed it again. Better get this over with quickly. “I know this must seem abrupt, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go on.” Dr. Connors inclined his head, gesturing at a seat with his good arm. The other one ended up to just above the elbow—a sight that reminded Vernon that it was the doctor himself who had been the first human trial for his cross-species grafting formula.

“The last time we met, you asked me to come work with you in your lab,” Vernon spoke slowly, hesitating between words. “And when I read your paper, I saw that you would continue to research further on the gene splicing and the, uh, the blood-brain barrier and—” He cut himself off, realizing that he had begun to ramble. “I was wondering, after last time, if you could—”

“Take you on in my lab for the research?” Dr. Connors completed his question for him, positively beaming. “Of course! Your father was a genius, and you follow in his stead. It would be a great advantage to have you on the team.” His smile faltered a little. “And then, even after all these years, I owe him my life and its work,” he added in a lower voice. “I’d be glad to have you.”

“Really?” Vernon looked at him with rounded eyes, clutching the case tightly enough that the skin of his knuckles paled. “I—wow. Thanks, Dr. Connors.”

Dr. Connors shook his head. “There will always be a place for Richard Parker’s son at my lab,” he said. “If you’re free, I could show you around the lab now, just so you get the feel of the place. Unless, of course, you’re busy right now, in which case you could swing by later.”

Vernon laughed, relieved and gratified and ridiculously happy. “I have all the time in the world.”

“Great,” Dr. Connors said. “When can you start?”