#<- tags because I guess those 3 are still a package deal in my heart
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5. A Public Place
Even if 8 years on the streets hadn’t made Grace suspicious, the couple of minutes that Simon spent opening up about his habit of watching someone did. Not so much that she discarded him as a potential friendly, but enough to request that when they hung out, it had to be in a public place. It was just her luck! Simon told her he knew the PERFECT place. “There’s tea and coffee, food and a cozy little atmosphere. Everything is very nice and I know the owner,” he told her.
“Oooh, sounds sweet. Tell me where it is…”
“Le Bistro Parfait,” he said.
She repeated it, with an even better pronunciation than he had into her maps and told him, “See you in… 45 minutes.” (He knew that it was only 30 minutes away from her, but maybe she had something to do and maybe she was trying not to let on her distance from the place. Regardless, he would see her soon, face to face… and it would be PERFECT, no matter what happened, because he’d be able to finally spend time with her socially, and because that was absolutely his mom’s place of business.
Grace felt a little bit caught off guard to learn that. “I’m not really a Mom person… I wish that you would have warned me that a mother might be involved…”
“No, no… She’s not. She’ll leave us our privacy and just… make sure everything’s perfect.”
“I’m not mentally prepared for a mother on a first date, Simon.”
“THIS IS A DATE??” He asked, too loudly and too excitedly. “Sorry. I just… I thought that we were simply… hanging out. I’m sorry if this seems like too much. We can go somewhere else, if you want?”
“No, we’re here already. Besides, it smells really good,” she said, grabbing a menu and going to a booth, positioned with her back to the wall. Simon followed and sat across from her. He knew what he was going to order. “And what does your dad do?” Grace asked, not looking up from the menu. She supposed that he might work or be involved here, but Simon kept saying “My mom,” so that made it sound like it was just her thing alone.
“Live his life, getting my birthday mixed up with all of his other abandoned kids,” Simon said, looking out of the window.
“Oh. Sorry I didn't mean to stir up anything,” she looked up at him to say that.
“It's fine I don't talk about it enough for it to be… known information…”
“Apple falls far from the Laurent tree, I'm guessing?” Hoping. Because one thing she wasn’t going to do was get attached to somebody who was a rolling stone..
“No no no no no… that's not his name.. that's mom's name.” Grace felt like that was the wrong takeaway from her question, but. “The only thing I've taken from that man is the penchant for being terrible at making connections with normal people.”
“I think we're connecting just fine.” There was no emotion in her statement, and she shut the menu right when she said it. He couldn’t tell if she was offended? Joking? Just being honest and didn’t have emotional responses? He simply decided to take it at face value.
“Do… you also think that you count as normal?”
She smirked. Of course she didn’t, but what did HE know? “I think that you should think I count as normal.”
“Eh. If you were, I don't think you'd like me.”
“And what makes you think that I like you? How do you know I wasn't just bored or lonely?”
A blond, short woman with pale blue eyes and a familiar smile approached the table with coffees and Grace froze. She didn’t want to be introduced or anything weird or even just uncomfortable. But, the woman asked, “Do you know what you’ll want this afternoon? I already know this stickler’s order.”
Grace ordered, in her finest French and bowed her head, cordially. The woman looked impressed and also confused, but simply strummed Simon’s cheek and said, “Right away.”
Simon pulled from her hand and turned bright red. Grace giggled at this and he turned redder. “You’re doing just what she wants by being entertained,” he said.
“Then everybody’s happy! Now… what makes you think I like you?” She blew on her coffee, somewhat flirtatiously… Simon didn’t know that coffee blowing could look so alluring. He almost stumbled over his words.
“Well… you don't use your customer service voice and smile with me. There's a different smile and voice you have when we're together, unlike what you use at work.”
“What if I have another voice and smile that I use outside of my customer service and they have nothing to do with liking people?”
“Then… that still sounds abnormal to me… but, that's one of the things I like about you. And so we're clear… I like you.” He turned the reddest shade she had ever seen for a person when he admitted that. She admired the gumption.
“Ha! Just you wait… you think you know it all.”
“Not it all… just… enough to consider myself knowledgeable.”
“Not on me, though,” she told him.
“Lucky for me, I’m willing to learn.”
.
Grace made a deal with herself. For every Date Night that she scheduled with 747 and the old gang, she would go on a nice date with Simon. They were in that awkward "getting to know you" phase and she was definitely in the realm of "getting to like you, getting to hope you like me."
One night, she and Xander were waterboarding somebody who practically drowned 298. The next, she was having a waterside picnic where Simon wrote and she read (something else), just… for the sake of being around each other. Talking could make both a little anxious at times and they both liked this. It was nice to be in somebody's presence and not have to perform, for Grace. Simon was just grateful that she wanted him around… and the waterfront was serene. Being with somebody and at peace wasn't something neither did with ease. The water brought that ease upon them.
Another night, she and Xan might be breaking the limbs of a former enforcer who broke an arm or a leg to keep someone "in their place," and the next, she'd break the set of balls while trying to learn how to play pool. Simon is surprisingly good at this game! She's very impressed… he's not as great at teaching her, even though she's a quick learner, but she vows that eventually, she'll be better than he is and show him up.
Grace spent a lot of time exacting sworn vengeance on really bad people, then turning around and trying to feel better about that by doing something really nice with a good person… because Simon was a good person, right?
He was sweet, smart, and somewhat attractive. That counted as a catch, she figured.
Grace never had a type before. Sure, she had thought about getting into the dating world sooner, but she hardly knew what she would be searching for. "Not a monster" was the height of her requirements, and as far as sexuality was concerned… she wasn't sure.
All that she knew was that the thought of someone touching her in that way made her squeamish and nervous… but that was likely due to the fact that she had very bad muscle memory attached to the wrong type of touch and it unfortunately dated back to before she even realized what sexuality was. She even felt triggered at times when Simon casually came a little too close. That stunned look he would have as he rushed away, apologetically always snapped her back to reality… "Not a monster" also meant someone who feels bad when you mistake them for one… and that made HER feel bad.
She would take her rage out on Date Night. Be it brass knuckles or nail bats, someone was going to suffer for the walls she didn't know how to lower for Simon. Someone who deserved it.
Then, Simon could at least reap the benefits of her blowing off that steam. Speaking of steam… she definitely splashed the dude that took Lucy's eye with scalding water, and immediately asked, while he was screaming in agony… "Is inviting somebody over for tea a good date?"
"What? At your home?" Lucy asked, toying with the butterfly knife that she had stabbed him in the eye with, flipping it open and shut.
"Yeah. I can order something from a bakery, set up some flowers from the shop.. and it might give us a chance to talk about stuff."
"Does he like tea?" Lucy wondered.
Grace made an 'I don't know' sound and shrugged her shoulders.
"There's a tea house near the flower shop. Just invite him there. Why would you want a strange dude in your home?" 152 wondered.
"We've been dating for over a month now. When do normal people invite people they're dating over for tea?" Grace wondered.
"That's not a thing!" All 3 of tonight's comrades informed her.
Simon never saw when they took the bodies away in the van. But, he had witnessed Grace jump on someone's back and make them inhale something, hit someone in the head to knock them out, cover someone's mouth and inject them with something… there seemed to be varying ways to collect their targets. (Yes, he was still following her a lot when they weren’t together, perhaps even more than he did before).
He had begun to follow the news about the people that they took, too. Common threads seemed to be that they were all either suspected of something terrible or guilty of something terrible that they either got away with, or it was uncovered when they vanished. Every one of the crimes was related to children.
"That makes so much sense. Grace has a kind heart and a beautiful spirit. She loves children. She's doing the world a favor, honestly…" Simon said to Samantha while looking over his research.
One thing that he hadn't successfully learned about was that "A" that they tagged the doors with. It reminded him of the Scarlet Letter, so he thought that perhaps it meant something about the predator that they had targeted. But after thesaurus diving into the A's, he hadn't found any words that could tie them all into the same package. Abusers? Aggressors? Atrocious?
Of those that he had witnessed being taken and those that he found searching for similar cases, there had been people suspected of (or found evidence of) child prostitution, abuse, molestation, endangerment, and even murder! The way that the evidence would come about after their abduction led Simon to believe that Grace and her cohorts were responsible for getting it out there. Goddamn, he loved that woman.
It was too soon to tell her that, but she was amazing. The fact that she could handle trash like that? And ALSO beat his ass in pool after he only taught her how to play a few weeks ago… "A woman who can do it all." PLUS… her photos of whenever she went to charity events. She always looked exactly like she belonged there. A high society picture of perfection. She was beautiful and brave. He wished that she would trust him.
Bold of him to think that in the moment where he was technically violating her space… but that was because he loved her and wanted to understand her more… so… that was okay. Besides… she knew he did this - perhaps not to her, but she at least had enough knowledge to presume that he might or might have. She hardly blinked, thank goodness. He didn't know how he might feel being judged by someone who disappeared people regularly. Even if they were bad people.
He heard his phone make the signature sound that she was sending him something.
Wondrous Grace (Was how she was saved in his phone. He must NEVER let her see that, but like… he enjoyed it): I heard that normal people don't do this, but since we're not normal, I think we've reached the point in our relationship where I invite you over for tea.
Simon: Normal people don't do it? Or Americans don't?
Grace: Idk. Do you want tea or not, Dude? Because I harvested this stuff myself!
Simon: I would love to have tea with you Grace.
Grace: Cool. Six pm tomorrow. I'm going to trust you with my address, okay? 213 Granderson Lane #4H.
Simon: Got it. See you then… I miss you.
Grace: Lol. Shut up, Simon.
But, she was smiling that smile that he always made her smile. The one that she felt in the depths of her loins, with tingles and leaps. "I think you love him," Xander teased.
"You can shut up too."
Simon was at home, with a very similar smile. About two weeks shy of two months, and he already had an invite to her home. He wished that she knew that he realized that was huge for her. Oh well… what on Earth does a person wear to tea?
06. Passion Project
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Seducing the Gem (Nash Wells x Reader, Chapter 4/9)
Rating: M (Smut in Chapter 6 only)
Summary: When a mysterious package shows up at your front door, you (a famous Romance novelist) are hurtled from your virtually uneventful life and into one of danger and adventure. In a quest to save your captured friend Caitlin from impending harm, you run into a suave adventurer named Nash who helps you along the way. Or is the charming Nash simply after something in your possession…?
Tag List: @tardis-23 @thecaptainsgingersnap @the-marvelatic
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
This has got to be the longest day of your life.
After trekking further through the Congolese rainforest with Nash, you eventually come to something you never thought you’d be thrilled to see - an old, rusty, deserted Volkswagen van. You don’t care how it got to be here, but it must mean you’re at least somewhere close to a road. All you can think about is the word shelter.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chant.
It’s gotten near dark out, so you pull out your phone to use the flashlight function to peer inside the old vehicle. At least my phone is good for something out here.
You wonder if it’s locked. “Is it-?”
When Nash tries the handle, the door slides open, albeit with a bit of force required, and he gives you a relieved smile. “Nope.”
Your partner in all this craziness steps into the vehicle, watching his head as he does, and whistles.
“Well, look what we have here.”
“What?”
When you hop inside, an unopened emergency blanket pack slaps you in the face. You gasp out of relief.
“Now,” Nash starts, “I don’t mean to get you out of your clothes, but-”
“-Yeah, I’m so sure,” you scoff.
“We’re going to have to strip,” he explains. “Our clothes are drenched and we’d likely catch our death if we slept in them.”
“You do have a point.” You take the hem of your shirt and begin to lift it off of you, except Nash is still watching you. “Hey, ever hear of something called privacy?”
“Sorry, Princess.” Nash animatedly places his hands over his eyes and turns around. “Happy?”
“Oh yes, I am simply delighted!” you joke, removing your shirt. “So happy to be getting half-naked in a decrepit van in the middle of a rainforest with a stranger!”
“Yeah, but at least he’s a handsome stranger,” he quips. When you don’t reply, Nash hums a little laugh, then starts taking off his jacket. You quickly turn around yourself, assuming he’s about to undress as well.
“So, are you going to tell me about this friend of yours?” he asks you. “Who is she? ...or he?” After a struggle in taking your jeans off, you wrap the silver metallic blanket around you, making sure to cover yourself.
“She. And I did already.” There’s a pause, and when you don’t hear the sounds of his clothes coming off, you wonder if he somehow left the van without you hearing. But after you’ve finished draping your wet clothes on the back of the driver’s seat, you turn slightly. Nash is right behind you, wrapped in his own blanket - barely - and leaving not much at all to the imagination.
Eyes up.
“My friend- her husband died… and I’ve come over here to comfort her.”
Nash frowns at you. “I distinctly remember you telling me your friend was in danger? ‘Life and death’ situation? Hmm?”
A section of his bare chest is visible from underneath the blanket. And God, look at those thighs.
Stop looking!
“Oh, um, well that too, of course. Are you hungry? I think I have...”
You would give anything to stop staring at him right now, so you make the excuse to grab your purse on the van’s floor in search of a granola bar you’d packed. However, in all your almighty grace, you stumble. And when you reach for your bag, out rolls the device that got you into this stupid mess in the first place. It rolls until it hits Nash’s foot. The man reaches down for it.
“Wait-!”
He holds it in his hand, examining it. When Nash presses one of the buttons, it lights up and presents a holographic globe with several blinking lights around it. Somehow, the device automatically knows to zone in on where you expect is your current location, complete with a special blinking dot. The weirdest part is that Nash’s tech on his arm starts beeping incredibly fast now, only to short circuit. He coughs and waves the smoke away.
“I think we need to talk,” he says, eyeing you seriously.
You laugh awkwardly and try to make a joke, “‘We need to talk’… that’s never a good thing to hear!”
He continues to use his stern glare.
“Alright.”
The pair of you sit on the backseat of the van, and when you don’t begin the conversation, Nash gets it going.
“So your friend, what’s her deal? Why is she in danger?”
“Okay, well, she’s been abducted and now these guys are holding her for ransom. They want this- this thing, this GPS for some reason, so I guess we’re going to make a trade when I finally get to Kinshasa.”
Nash plays with it in his hand again and makes the hologram globe appear once more.
“Have you played around with this thing much?” he asks.
“No.”
The man beside you tries something, as if an instinct takes over with this foreign device, by tapping on one of the three-dimensional blinking lights.
“That’s us,” he points to the yellow light, “Those are our coordinates.”
“Then what’s this one?” You tap on a second, red light nearest to where you are on the map, just a little south. It gives you the coordinates to a new dot.
Nash rubs his face with a hand. “It would seem that this device is programmed to lead the user to a sort of treasure,” he explains slowly. “Kind of like my fried gauntlet here. That’s exactly where I was heading to today. That red dot there. But why do you have something like this?” It sounds like he’s wondering this more to himself than posing the question to you. You think you hear him mumble, “This could help me find what I’m looking for...” But you aren’t sure.
“I’m sorry, but I honestly couldn’t care less about treasure right now,” you say, fixing the blanket around your shoulders. “The kidnappers want this device, and like hell am I going to do anything other than exchange it for Caitlin’s life.”
Nash shifts to face you more straight on. “Or, if you follow this GPS, you could find the treasure and use it as leverage over these assholes.”
You laugh. “And you’re not just saying that as a ploy to make you seem like a hero, then steal this or the treasure right out from under my nose?”
“I never said I was a hero to begin with,” Nash points out, “but I’m sure as hell not a scumbag enough to do that.”
“I’ve only just met you. How am I to know that?”
“Would it help if I told you more about myself?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. I mean, I guess?”
The adventurer clears his throat and looks you directly in the eyes. He wants you to believe him. He wants you to trust him.
“My name is Doctor Harrison Nash Wells. I am a scientist and have a doctorate in geological science and archeology, among other practices. I’ve left the confines of my lab back home, but I’ve done it to search for various scientific or ‘supernatural’ anomalies and artifacts that pop up around the world,” he explains. “And one day, I’m going to have the means to go to other worlds.”
“Shut up,” you exclaim, “there’s no such thing as other worlds!” Nash just gives you a pointed look. “If you say so.”
Could there really be other worlds? Or is Nash pulling your leg?
“Why are you out here in Africa?” you ask. “What was it you’re looking for here?”
“Recently, my team and I have been working on experimental stuff regarding dreams. There’s a myth of a gemstone that lives in this area which gives a sleeper hallucinogenic nightmares. I want to find this stone, examine it, and test it. But it’s proving more difficult to find it right now because my tech has been on the fritz today. My tech engineer - my colleague - he built this.” Nash motions to his now busted gauntlet. “He passed away not too long before I left on this mission, and I’ve never found anyone to replace him. Though no one could ever replace him. Martin was working on such great stuff for us…”
You sense behind his steely exterior that Nash is hurting inside. You tentatively rest a hand on his shoulder, but the crinkling noise of the blanket startles you and you recoil. Maybe you should change the subject.
“Where else have you been?”
“Oh wow, let’s see. Japan, Columbia, India, Vietnam, countless others, of course. Work takes me all over. But like I said, one day I hope to see those other worlds, too. To finish what Martin was working on.”
He actually does believe in other worlds.
Whether it’s from the rather inconceivable thought alone, or from the chill you feel biting at you (probably the latter), you shiver involuntarily, watching the goosebumps ripple across your skin.
“You’re cold,” Nash notices, “Move closer.”
You swallow, feeling a rush of nervousness as he opens his blanket up to reveal his nearly naked self. When you hesitate, he says calmly, “It’s purely for the body heat, I promise, Princess.”
He sounds and appears genuine in saying this. Maybe he’s not a complete bastard after all...
Scooting closer to him on the van’s makeshift seat-bed, Nash wraps the blanket around you as if it were a bird’s wing. Apparently, the way you’re sitting isn’t correct, because he grunts, “Here,” and maneuvers you so that your legs are outstretched across his lap. It’s so dark now, and you’re almost glad he probably isn’t able to see how flushed your face is, but maybe he can feel how hot it is against his chest where it rests.
“Thanks,” you murmur. He’s so warm.
Your heart is racing. Why is your heart racing? Is it because you’re being held by a man, to whom you’re in such close proximity (and being nearly naked to boot)? A man who you’re recognizing is as adventurous and witty as Chase - the fictional character you dreamt up? What’s real and what’s fiction? You don’t know how to feel.
Surely it’s still the adrenaline from the day. It should all pass by morning.
When no one speaks for longer than you can bear in this new position, you break the silence by clearing your throat.
“What will you do after you find the stone?” you ask. “Will you go back to your lab? Will you always be out exploring and searching? Don’t you ever... want to settle down someday?”
“Wow, hard-hitting questions for someone I’ve just met today!” Nash nudges you playfully. “Yeah, I’ll go back and examine the specimen. Use it to help people somehow, answer unanswered questions. Debunk the myths behind it. As for settling down… maybe one day. But today is not that day.”
“So you haven’t anyone back home waiting for you?” The question tumbles out of your mouth.
“What, are you interested?” Nash pokes your side.
“It was just a question!” you insist. He laughs.
“No. No one back home.” Nash sighs and stretches his arms out and above him to place behind his head, muscles flexing. You need to reprimand yourself to keep your tongue in your mouth. “No woman could tie me down, anyway.” This came out a little too forced. It would be the biggest plot twist if this guy was actually a hopeless romantic!
The thought makes you giggle, but that turns into a huge yawn.
“We should get some sleep,” he mentions softly.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
You both situate yourselves on the backseat-bed and end up facing each other under your blankets. It feels like fire when your legs rub up against his, bodies pressing together in such close quarters. You’re too afraid to talk for fear of what your voice would sound like right now. All you know is that your breaths combining between the two of you is already keeping you so warm.
You close your eyes.
“You were amazing today,” you hear him whisper. The corners of your mouth turn up in the darkness.
“I know…”
#reader insert#harrison wells x reader#harrison wells imagine#harrison wells fanfiction#nash wells x reader#nash wells imagine#harrison nash wells x reader#the flash imagine#the flash fanfiction
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Darkest Roads - Ch. 3
Chapter 3: Sinners and Saints
Rating: T
Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell
Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Total Work Count: 15k
Chapter Word Count: 6k
Title: Darkest Roads
Chapter Title: Sinners and Saints
Description: Edwin Street Race AU - Ed takes Winry for a drive in his car and things take a new turn in their relationship.
@fmabigbangs
ffn || ao3 || tag
previous chapter
Edward
When I arrive back at the butcher shop, I notice a mysterious looking car parked in front as I’m carefully moving the bike into the alley. But I can’t worry about that. Weird cars or not, I know Izumi will be out here in two seconds to look for any damage I might’ve done.
Except she isn’t…
I wait for a minute before I frown and head inside, grabbing the notebook and carrier off the back along with the helmet. I drop my stuff by the door and move toward the front, stopping in the small hallway when I hear voices.
“Well, if you see anything or hear anything suspicious, please give us a call.”
I crane my neck a little and see a blonde lady in a blue suit handing Sig a business card.
“Also, are you sure Edward Elric won’t be here today? I have on record that he’s an employee here, and I have a few questions I’d like to ask him.”
Cold runs down my back, and I feel my jaw clench. I know that voice. It’s that bastard detective, Mustang. The one who approached me a few weeks ago about making me a C.I. and having me flip on members of the Devil’s Nest (plus anyone else I see committing crimes on the Lane). I told him to fuck off, so I can only imagine what he wants to talk about now.
“I already told you he’s out on a delivery run. I’m not sure when he’ll be back,” Izumi answers with a firm but pleasant tone.
“Well, I’m going to leave my card, too, if you’ll pass it along to him.”
“I’ll see that he gets it.”
And I’ll see that it gets immediately lost in the bio waste (aka the pig blood).
I continue waiting out of sight until the two detectives are safely outside and in their car.
“You can come out, Ed,” Izumi calls almost immediately, and I step into the main room, behind the counter.
“What did they want?”
“They were just checking around with local businesses to see if we’d seen or heard anything about the Saints of Ishval,” Sig chimes in grimly. “Apparently, their leader, Scar, has been causing trouble.”
“And who can blame them,” Izumi huffs as she begins violently chopping meat on the butcher block. “Local government has been passing mandates left and right that specifically target Ishvalan neighborhoods. It’s ridiculous.”
“They have a right to be upset about that,” Sig agrees calmly, “but it’s no reason to become violent with random citizens or even unprovoked law enforcement. Violence never solves anything.”
“I disagree,” Izumi snaps back bringing the cleaver down again. “Self-defense and survival often call for a bit of violence.”
Sig shakes his head and rubs his hand over her shoulder. “You know what I meant.”
“Oh, also,” she calls to me, in a not-subtle way of changing the subject, “the dark haired one asked about you.”
“I heard,” I grimace. “He approached me once before about…something. I bet it was that again. I’m still not interested though.”
“Well, I told him I’d give you this.”
She pulls off her gloves and grabs a business card out of her apron pocket. I take it and shove it in my back pocket, already timing the distance to the trash can to throw it out.
“If you finished those deliveries, you can do some inventory. It’s a pretty slow day,” she changes the subject. “That, or you can help me prep the fresh meat for display.” She nods to the bloody packages on ice behind her.
“I don’t mind doing inventory.”
It’s only for another half hour anyway, and I enjoy the silence back there.
“Only do the beef for now. I don’t want you in the freezer for too long, and that should be enough to get you started. Sig?”
“The stock count is on my desk. You can grab it before you go in. Come out front for a break after fifteen minutes, and I’ll see where you are then.”
“Yes, sir.” I nod and head to the office.
But my mind is still stuck on the Saints of Ishval. I mean, why would the cops think a the leader of a biker gang run out of the Southeast corner of the city would be harassing shop owners in a South-central neighborhood? Unless they’re moving on Devil’s Nest territory. I wonder how my new friend(?) in the Xingese District would feel about that. I mean, the Central underground has its variety of players, but usually they keep to their designated sections of town. The last time a border war—so to speak—broke out was when an Ishvalan child was killed by a cop from Central and all hell broke loose. The Ishvalan community has never really recovered, and the crime rate has only gone up.
“Ed!” Sig’s deep voice makes me jump. “You’d better be working in there! We don’t pay you to sit in a fridge and stare at meat!”
“Right. Yes, sir!” I yell back before reaching for the first shelf of beef and checking it against the list in my hand.
I shouldn’t be worrying about the Saints of Ishval right now. As much as the workings of the Central City underworld concern me, I wish they didn’t, and one day, I hope they don’t. If I want that to happen, I need to focus on my job. Checking the expiration dates on meat may not pay much, but it’s honest money, which is what I need if I’m going to afford groceries later.
Before I meet Winry at City Park.
Shit. I still have to go get her part from Donovan. I’ll have to do that after work but before groceries. I don’t want to be too close to the Lane when the sun sets or Greed will try to pull me into racing.
Swearing under my breath, I reach for another lump of meat and try to ignore the cold setting into the skin surrounding my automail anchors. Fuck, it’s going to be a long half hour.
Winry
I glance at my phone for the time and shift my weight, before shoving the device in my pocket. A chilly breeze makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end, and I rub my arms, looking around again for Edward. He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, but so far, I haven’t seen him, and he hasn’t texted to say he was late or to reschedule or anything.
I walk around the waterless fountain and start to sit down on a bench when a car alarm goes off a few blocks away. My head whips toward the sound, and my heart freezes in my chest. The shock lasts about a second before I take a deep breath and scold myself for being so jumpy.
I’m paranoid, and I know it. The likelihood of anything happening in this park is really slim, but I can’t stop my mind from spinning wild scenarios now that I’m here. Alone. In the dark. Waiting for a boy I barely know to trade me a sort of illicit auto part in a sketchy exchange. With Paninya’s warning ringing in my ears, it’s impossible for me not to be skittish.
“Oh good. I found you.”
A short scream slips out of my mouth as I leap from my seat on the bench and whirl around.
“Hey, hey, it’s just me!” Ed hisses, holding his leather clad hands out. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me walk up.”
“Holy crap,” I whisper, gasping as I shut my eyes with relief.
“I’m so sorry,” he goes on. “Fuck, I’m sorry for surprising you and for being late, actually.”
“I wasn’t sure you were coming,” I announce a little more coldly than I mean to as I straighten.
“I had to go by and get the part right before I came here. I was waiting on Donovan to finish his final check to make sure it was in perfect condition.”
“You have it?” I perk up at once. “Can I see it?”
He reaches up with one hand and rubs the back of his neck, wincing.
“What?” I frown.
“I’m not really supposed to give it to you until I have the money.”
“Well, I’m not sure I want to give you the money until I’ve looked at the part,” I counter, crossing my arms. “Why should I be the one who has to just believe you and Donovan didn’t rip me off?”
“Yeah…” He glances to the side. “ I guess that’s fair. Here.”
He nods to the bench, and I sit back down as he skirts the edge and takes the spot beside me. Taking the envelope of cash out of my coat, I set it in the space between us. He looks at it for a second, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to count it. I’m surprised when he doesn’t. Instead he pulls the part out of his jacket and holds it out to me.
“I watched him look over it with a high beam light and a magnifying glass,” he says quietly. “If you find something wrong with it, you can keep my thirty thousand cens.”
I raise an eyebrow and proceed to scan the part for any damage. When I can’t find any, I take a second envelope out of my coat and hold it out to Ed.
“What the fuck?” he mutters. “If this is the cash, what’s in that one? Were you bluffing?”
“No.” I shake my head. “This one is yours. The thirty thousand you just mentioned that I owe you.”
“What?” he blinks. “Really?”
“I told you I could pay you back,” I remind him. “What? You didn’t think I was serious.”
“Well, no, I mean, yes,” he sputters. “I just thought it would take you longer or–”
“I’m good with my money,” I explain over the end of his flailing sentence. “And I’m better with automail. I just don’t usually keep too much on hand. I only had what I had the other night because my friend suggested that much, but, obviously, she underestimated the price.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “If I hadn’t been there to cover for you, things could’ve gone pretty bad.”
“Thanks again for that,” I whisper. “Anyway…” I stand and adjust the scarf at my neck. “It’s late, and if we’re done, I should probably be getting home.”
I glance over my shoulder toward the street, and hold back a sigh. I don’t know why I’m disappointed. This was only ever a business deal anyway.
“Wait.”
My head snaps back around, and I freeze as he stands and reaches for my hand.
“Don’t…don’t go yet.”
I look from our joined hands up to his face, my eyes wide with surprise.
“Why not?” I venture carefully. “There’s no reason I should stay…”
“What? Oh, fuck. I mean, yeah, you should probably leave…”
I notice his cheeks look pink in the dim light of the lamp posts, but I don’t say anything, even though he’s cute when he’s making a fool of himself.
“Do you…want me to stay?”
“What?” He flinches and looks up at me, dropping my hand. “I…uh, yeah, but–”
Before he can answer a loud roar of some kind of engine shatters the night. I look around, but can’t see anything even though the noise is getting closer.
“What is that?” I can’t keep the panic out of my voice, especially not after I see the look on Ed’s face.
“Motorcycle,” he mutters. “You need to go.”
“What? You just said–”
“Forget what I said,” he bites out as he grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the entrance to the park. “Go home. Now. Don’t stop and don’t turn back.”
“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “Who is it? What do they want?”
“Nothing good.” He grimaces, and I feel cold slip into the folds of my coat.
“Okay.” I nod. “I’ll, um, text you when I get home.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I tuck the rare auto part into my coat pocket and start down the block. I make it across the street and halfway up the next block when the roar of the engine overwhelms me. I turn toward it, and suddenly it’s coming right at me. Terror blasts through my veins and I duck my head, covering my ears as if that will somehow help.
It stops in front me me, the headlight blinding as the engines all cuts off. I blink as the headlight goes dark, leaving me shrouded in the light of the streetlamp and staring at a large dark blur dismounting the bike. I squint and make out a patch on the front of a leather cut.
The Saints of Ishval.
“Miss,” a rough voice comes from the dark figure and I take a step back.
“Who are you?”
A tall, muscular man steps out of the shadows, his face twisted with a frown and marred by an X shaped scar.
“I’ll ask the questions,” he rumbles. “What are you doing out so late all by yourself?”
“I…I…”
The auto part in my pocket suddenly feels heavier than before. Should I tell him the truth? Would it matter to him? Ed didn’t say why I should avoid them?
“I was taking a walk,” I stammer. “In the park.”
“This late? In winter?” His frown deepens, if that’s possible. “Alone?”
“Y-yes. I…” I lick my lips and feel my hands start trembling, and not from the cold.
“You what?”
He takes a step closer, and I take two backward, my back hitting the brick wall of a storefront.
“I, um… I’m–”
“She’s with me.”
Edward
The mountain sized man turns to look at me, and I curse myself for being this stupid. But I couldn’t just walk off and hope she made it home, so…I was following her. I would say it’s a good think I was since she’s been cornered by the leader of City’s most notorious biker gang, but I actually don’t know if I can get her out of this.
“And you are?”
“I’m Edward Elric,” I announce, as I move quickly toward Winry. “And that girl you’re scaring the fuck out of is my girlfriend.”
I see her eyes widen at the word, and I jerk my head at her, trying to get her to play along.
“Elric…” The giant turns to face me completely. “Don’t I know that name?”
“I…”
“Oh, yes, one of Greed’s racers,” he finishes before I can say anything. “That means you’re with the Devil’s Nest.”
I open my mouth to deny it when suddenly my arm is being twisted behind my back, and I’m pinned to the ground, my cheek scraping the concrete. Something in my automail snaps, and I squeeze my eyes shut as pain radiates up into my shoulder.
“Let him go!” Winry squeals. “We weren’t doing anything!”
I peek over my shoulder to see Scar glance at her and squint. “Then why were you here? If you’re his girlfriend like he says…”
“I—” I hiss as his knee digs into my back. “I snuck her out!” I lie, saying whatever words pop into my head. “She has a curfew, and I’m not really the type her dad wants to see her out with, so I brought her to the park so we could be alone.”
Winry, as brilliant as I thought, catches on fast.
“I have to get home,” she jumps in at once. “If my dad finds out I’m missing, he’ll call every cop in the city.”
“So, you were doing something then.” Scar snarls.
“Just making out!” I supply instantly, trying not to notice the instant blush that stains her cheeks. “But her dad checks on her at midnight, so–”
“Please, I can’t be gone when he–”
“Okay, fine,” Scar sighs, releasing me. “You can go.”
The knee in my spine moves off, and I scramble to my feet, watching Winry out of the corner of my eye as I stare at Scar.
“Thank you,” Winry murmurs as she inches toward me.
I take a step closer to her when Scar grabs my shoulder and leans down.
“But if I ever catch you or any of the Devil’s Nesters out again at night, all bets are off, Elric.”
“You won’t,” I guarantee him, even though I have no idea if that’s true.
Winry comes up beside me and attaches herself to my arm just as he backs away. I try not to wince at the sharp pain that shoots through my elbow, determined to stay still until he’s gone. We stand there, silently, as he starts his engine and rolls out.
“Thank you,” Winry exhales as soon as we’re alone again. “I…I–”
“Don’t mention it.”
I reach up to touch my hair and groan when my arm locks up.
“Your automail!” she gasps. “It’s damaged. You’re in pain.”
“No shit,” I hiss. “That guy was ridiculously strong.” And way too damn forceful.
“I can fix it,” she says as if I never spoke. “Come home with me. I have what I need there.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I blink.
“Your arm needs a repair,” she says urgently. “My granny should be asleep, so as long as we’re quiet, I can sneak you in and fix you up, and then sneak you back out without her knowing.”
Fuck, she just invited to sneak me into her bedroom—well, wherever she does her automail stuff. Tonight is out of control.
“I…”
“I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” she cuts in. “You got hurt helping me, so it’s the least I can do.”
“Fine.” I give in, not that it was too much of a struggle. “Lead the way.”
Winry
“This is where you live?”
I glance at him in the light from the lamp by the door and bite my lip.
“My family is sort of a big deal in automail,” I murmur. “My granny was one of the first engineers.”
Usually, I don’t think our house is anything grand. It’s a relatively modest two story with a small yard for my dog…but I guess it is in one of the nicer neighborhoods downtown.
“Right.” He nods slowly.
“Anyway, follow me, and be quiet.”
I lead him around the side of the house to the trellis. I could probably go in the front door, but there’s always the chance Granny is up late, and I don’t want to have to take him past her bedroom just in case.
“Can you climb with that wrist?”
“Yeah.”
I watch him curl his fingers into a fist and grimace, but he doesn’t change his answer.
“My bedroom is the window on the right.”
“Your bedroom. Cool. Okay,” he mumbles a string of words, and I suddenly realize what this scenario sort of resembles, a flame of heat instantly racing up the side of my neck.
“It’s locked,” I whisper, “so wait here until I get up there to open it.”
He nods, and I go around through the front door. In the case Granny is up, I want her to think I’m just coming home like a good girl and not about to sneak a boy into my room.
A flash of guilt squeezes my heart, and I do my best to ignore it.
I crack the window as soon as I get to it and wave for Ed to come up. I see him start to climb, watching for a few seconds to make sure he really can manage with his injured automail, before I go to my workbench and store the new part I have in my coat.
“I never thought I’d be the guy sneaking in a girl’s bedroom,” he mutters as his feet hit the floor with a loud thud.
“Shh!” I hiss at him, glancing wildly over my shoulder. “If my Granny finds you in here this late, I literally have no idea how she’ll react.”
But I imagine it won’t be good.
“Sorry.”
“Now,” I whisper, slipping off my coat and scarf, “give me your arm.”
He holds it out as I grab my headlamp and slide it on. After a quick glance, I grab some pliers and try to undo the fresh dent, but it won’t budge.
“I need to replace this plate,” I tell him without looking up. “I actually have one that should fit. Give me two seconds.”
Turning my back on him, I shift some other projects around and grab the part I need along with a screwdriver. It takes a minute to detach the damaged plate, but once it’s off I take a look at the inside just to make sure everything looks good.
“How often do you get your automail checked?” I ask softly, shining a penlight on some smaller gears.
“Uh…only when I absolutely have to, honestly.”
“I figured you’d say that.” I shake my head. “You have some rust, but it isn’t terrible. Let me oil it really quick.”
“You’re a real gearhead, aren’t you?” he asks my back as I’m digging through my oils and serums.
“What?”
“You’re so…zoned in on my automail. It’s like how I am when I’m driving.”
“Oh.” I blink. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but I guess so.”
I quickly administer the oil and grab the new plate, which I have to make a few adjustments to for the right fit.
“So…what did you mean about your driving?” I ask him as I punch a fresh hole in the metal, muffling it as much as I can.
“You probably heard Scar say I’m one of Greed’s racers,” he says softly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s not really what I want to do, but…driving is all I’m really good at. Well, that and selling meat.”
“I assume a serious driver has a car?”
“Yeah, my baby. She was having engine trouble, so a friend of mine let me put her up in his garage. She’s on blocks because she also needs fresh tires. This 30k should help me fund the last few parts I need to fix her and get her going again.”
“What kind of car is she?”
“How did you know she’s a she?” He stares at me, and I shrug.
“You’re a guy? I don’t know. It just seemed logical. Did you name her?”
“Nina,” he says softly. “And she’s a red Dodge Challenger.”
“Hold still.” He winces as I set the plate and screw it into place. “How’s it feel?”
I watch him move his arm this way and that, throw some fake punches, and swing it over his head before he looks at me.
“Fucking amazing,” he mutters with undeniable awe. “I think this is the best it’s ever been.”
“If you want me to look at your leg sometime, say the word.”
He gives me a sideways glance, and I feel my face flush.
“I just meant–”
“I know.”
“Anyway, Nina,” I change the subject back to something safe. “I’d like to see her.”
“After I get her fixed up, I can pick you up and show her off. I’d love that.”
“Sounds good to me.” I agree instantly, trying to ignore Paninya’s voice in my head screaming this is a bad idea.
“I’ll text you.”
I start to say something about how he never texted before, but stop myself. It doesn’t matter now anyway, if it ever did.
“Cool.” I nod instead. “Now it’s time to sneak you out of here before my Granny hears us."
“Right.” He walks back over to the window and slides it up before looking over at me. “Have a goodnight, princess.”
“Shut up and go home, Ed,” I laugh at him.
He slides his leg out, and I watch as he disappears. After a few seconds, though, I rush over to look down at him.
“What?” he mouths up at me, and I shake my head.
“Nothing. Just…have a goodnight, too, Edward.”
He grins and drops the rest of the way to the ground, going immediately into a somersault, and then dashing off into the night.
Edward
“Fuck. Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine, and you can do this,” I mutter to myself as I slow to a measly five miles an hour and turn onto the street in front of Winry’s house.
Something like a thousand tiny tiny fingertips run down my spine, and my stomach lurches.
“Shit. Maybe I can’t do this.”
I called her a week ago—called, not texted—when I finally had everything done to get Nina back on the road. I still want to customize her paint job, but Cherry Red looks good on her for the moment. Now, I’m at Winry’s house, waiting to pick her up for what I’m like 90% sure is a date, and I’m not totally sure how that happened.
My phone pings, and I grab it from the cupholder.
Automail Princess: is that you?
I text her back a quick “yeah,” and watch as the front door to the house swings open and she comes running out.
In a dress.
Fuck, I was right. Her legs are amazing.
I groan and throw my head back, banging it against the seat, stopping quickly when she opens the passenger door.
“So where are you and Nina taking me?” She bounces a little in her seat, and I bite my lip to hide my smile.
She’s too adorable.
Which is why this won’t work out.
I shake off the stupid voice in my head and shift gears as she buckles her seatbelt.
“Well, I figured I could drive around the city, and then through the backroads outside of town if you wanted. I can get up to some decent speeds on those since they’re not as heavily policed.”
“Sounds good. Did you have any sort of destination in mind?”
I cough, and reach up to beat my chest with my fist.
“Um…I don’t know, why?”
“Well…” she starts and trails off immediately.
“What?”
“There’s this place,” she says before taking a breath. “I’ve never been there, but I have this friend, and she said… Nevermind, I shouldn’t mention it. It’s dumb, and probably too out of the way–”
“Give me a hint,” I interrupt, secretly loving how flustered she is.
“It’s at the top of this hill. It’s supposed to be the highest point in Amestris, or at least Central City, and–”
I slam on the brakes without meaning to and she squeals before her seatbelt catches her, cutting her off.
“Shit. Fuck. Sorry,” I ramble, speeding up immediately, and forcing my eyes to focus on the road and the windshield and not looking at her.
“You know the place then?” she asks quietly.
“Uh…yeah,” I admit, a muscle in my jaw twitching.
She’s talking about Sniper’s Lookout. It’s an abandoned parking lot outside an old condemned bell tower. I think it used to be part of a church, but the rumor is the best sniper in Central used to use the tower for target practice by shooting birds out of the sky.
But more importantly, Sniper’s Lookout is most notorious for being the premier place for teenagers to go parking.
“Do you, uh, wanna go there?” I glance at her before quickly shifting my eyes back to the road.
“I think so,” she answers after a beat, her voice suddenly softer.
I’m afraid to ask if she means what I think she means, but I’m also afraid not to. I debate with myself in silence as I turn onto the road that leads out of town, directly into the setting sun.
“Ed, are you okay?”
Shit. I’ve been quiet too long.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Just thinking.”
“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” she blurts at once. “If you don’t want to drive all the way up there, we don’t have to. I just thought–”
“No, you didn’t,” I lie to calm her down. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Oh…okay.”
“Winry,” I ask suddenly, looking over at her. “Do you know what people—couples, I mean—do at Sniper’s Lookout?”
She blinks, and I watch her cheeks turn a perfect shade of pink.
“Well, I have an idea,” she mumbles. “But, I really just wanted a place we could talk.”
Oh.
“Well, I guess that makes sense.” I nod.
I’m an idiot. Of course she doesn’t want to fool around. We’ve only seen each other twice before now, and never as anything romantic…
She reaches forward and turns on the radio, and we drive in comfortable silence until, the sun completely sets, and I make the turn onto the lane that zigzags back and forth to the top of the tallest hill in the city.
“So…” I turn to her as I cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I really like you,” says suddenly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that, but… Well, my friend, Paninya, she’s the one I mentioned before, I’m replacing her knee joints.”
I blink at her and nod slowly.
“…okay?”
“Her adoptive dad is her automail mechanic, and she still hasn’t told him I’m doing the replacement, which is stressing me out. Oh, and that’s also why I needed the part you hooked me up with.”
“Go on.”
“The real problem though, is… Well, I’m weaponizing her legs.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I blink at her.
“Before the law went through about combat automail, she had these self-defense items, and if you knew her, you’d totally understand why she needs them, but her dad complied with the new rules and removed them because she isn’t twenty-one yet.”
“And you’re going to reinstall them?”
“Yes, and…I can’t tell anyone because, well, it’s illegal.”
“But you’re telling me,” I point out quietly.
“I really needed to tell someone, and I…thought you’d understand, and I’m really hoping you’re trustworthy.”
“I do, and…I am,” I assure her. “It’s a pretty big deal though, isn’t it? Doing that kind of automail work?”
“It’s not simple, for sure,” she admits, leaning forward to slide off her jacket. “But I can manage.”
My eyes get caught on the flashes of skin on her bare shoulders. Middle of winter and she’s wearing a pink top with off-the-shoulder sleeves. I’m not sure why, but that seems to be 100% on brand for her.
“I’m trying to get away from racing,” I confess, though I’m not sure why. Something about her makes me want to bare my soul. “I want to get away from Sinners’ Lane entirely, actually. My brother is about to finish high school, and I really want him to go off to college. One of us should.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I had to take care of him.” I sigh. “Our dad bailed when we were little, and our mom died a few years later… It’s been just us for most of our lives.”
“That’s… I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug.
“How did you lose your arm and leg, if I can ask that?”
“Car accident of course.”
“Racing?”
“Actually, no.” I grin. “I ran out in front of a car to save Al and got hit. It wasn’t long after out mom died. By then, we were in foster care, but our foster parents were actually pretty cool. I… They gave me a job at their butcher shop when I aged out, and when I got my own place I took Al with me, but they’re basically family.”
“That’s good.”
I mean, I guess could’ve left Al with them while I went to school, but that didn’t feel right.
“I guess we’re both figuring shit out.” I run my fingers through my bangs.
“Maybe we could…figure it out together?”
I look over at her and raise an eyebrow.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she murmurs, “but I know I like being with you…”
“I like being with you, too,” I whisper.
Her body angles toward mine, and I stop breathing. She blinks slowly, and I get hung up on how her lashes make her eyes look bluer than normal, which is saying something. A guy could drown in those dark pools…
“Kiss me, Ed.”
I’m not sure if she really said it, or if I imagined it, but the next thing I know, I’m moving my head toward her, and she’s watching my lips as I lower them to hers.
(art by @ayanthos)
She tastes like a daydream.
My automail fingers slide into the hair by her neck, and my other hand grips the steering wheel as she turns slightly, giving me an opening to deepen the kiss. She gasps against my mouth, and I grin.
She pulls back, and I watch as she takes a short breath and reaches up to touch her lips.
“You okay, princess?”
She nods, but her eyes are shining. Fuck. Is she gonna cry?
“I thought you wanted me to,” I whisper quickly. “I–”
Before I can finish, her finger comes up to my lips, shutting me up.
“It was perfect,” she murmurs. “I… No one has ever kissed me before.”
“What?” I stare at her. “Not ever? Really?”
“Yeah.”
She leans back in and kisses my cheek before pulling away and letting out a short sigh.
“I think I should be getting home soon,” she whispers.
“Right.”
My cheek is burning from where her lips touched it, but I ignore that and focus on starting my car and driving her back to the city. When I pull up in front of her house, I realize I don’t want her to go.
“Can I call you again?”
“I’d like that,” she nods. “And, actually, I sort of need another one of those parts you got me before. I’m doing both of Pan’s knees, so…”
“I can talk to Donovan.”
“Great.” She beams as she reaches for her door handle.
“Wait.” I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her back to me.
“What?”
“Don’t…kiss anyone else, okay?”
Her eyes widen and then soften as she bites her lip.
“I won’t if you won’t.”
“Deal.”
She slides out, and I watch as she walks up the steps before turning to wave at me.
“Nina,” I announce as I pull away. “I think you just got me a girlfriend.”
Winry
“Was that the hot guy?”
Paninya is waiting inside as soon as I step in the door.
“His name is still Edward,” I remind her.
“So, it is him?”
“It is who?” Granny steps out of the kitchen.
“My…boyfriend,” I say definitively.
“What!” Pan screeches. “Winry, you can’t be–”
“Is his surname Elric?” Granny interrupts her, and I freeze.
“Um, yeah, actually.”
“I knew his parents.” She nods. “Good people.”
I almost ask about his MIA dad, but don’t get the chance since Paninya grabs my arm and drags me up the stairs.
“Winry, I told you not to go after a boy from the Lane.”
“I didn’t, it just happened,” I tell her honestly. “And…don’t try to talk me out of it.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something and then closes it again instead.
This happens three times.
“Okay, fine,” she finally says in a huff. “But I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t say one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t fall for him. You can date him all you want. If you want to make out with him in an alley or sneak him into your bedroom, go for it. Fuck him in his car or on the second-hand couch in his shitty apartment. I don’t care, but don’t fall in love with him.”
“Pan–”
“If you fall in love with him, and he breaks your heart…”
Her face says more than any number of words ever could.
“Okay,” I whisper, hoping to easer her mind.
“Promise me.”
“I…” She leans toward me, and I shut my eyes. “I promise.”
“I’m spending the night by the way,” she announces.
“You’re always welcome,” I remind her softly.
She disappears into the bathroom, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Or regret.
I promised her I wouldn’t fall for Edward, but…
I think it’s too late for that.
#fma big bang#fmabb#edwin#edwin fic#edward elric#winry rockbell#fma#fmab#my fic#my edwin#darkest roads#sinners and saints#fullmetal alchemist#fullmetal alchemist brotherhood#fma brotherhood#fma fic#fma fanfiction#edwin fanfiction#edwin fluff#otp: tears of joy#fueled by fire
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I loved you before I even knew you
Summary: “What is going on inside the head of my fearless Nephilim?” Magnus mumbles, his eyes fluttering open. He looks up and meets those beautiful hazel eyes with a fond smile.
“You,” Alec kisses his head again, tightening his hold of Magnus. “Always you.”
Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Tags: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Boyfriends, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Cuddles
Well, after so much angst in this dashboard... I had the idea to write this after listening to Loved You Before by Natalie Taylor. It took me some time due to work, but here it is! And the timing was good too. @aria-lerendeair, I hope this cheer you up, even if it’s just a little bit. You are awesome and deserve to smile and be happy <3 @just-another-lightwood-bane This is also for you for being there in that angst train about Magnus. I hope you like it!
You can also read here: ao3
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Snow falls slowly, painting New York’s streets with the calmness of Winter. A high contrast from the dark night blackening the starless sky. The cold air crawls between buildings, powerless against the coziness inside the High Warlock of Brooklin’s loft. Even inside, there is a peaceful scent, a comfortable silence and just a dim light coming from the main bedroom.
Magnus is curled around Alec, his head resting on the Shadowhunter’s chest and one arm on his waist. Alec holds him protectively, feeling like his whole world is there between his arms. Their legs are entwined and their hearts beating almost as one.
Alec tilts his head a bit, tracing his boyfriend’s hairline with the tip of his nose before gently kissing his hair, the sandalwood fragrance easing his worries for a moment. Magnus is still weak and pale, resting after dealing with a high fever, but the worst part is gone and his love isn’t in danger anymore. It has been a close call after Magnus was poisoned due to a demon attack, but thanks to the Angel the antidote is working and soon his dear Warlock would be good to go and to worry the shit of him again as always. It seems Izzy, Jace, and Magnus are the kind of package made to give him all kinds of heart attacks and endless rolling eyes, but…
They are the package Alec loves more than anything else in the world, and he knows he would die for them without thinking twice.
His long fingers caress his boyfriend’s arm, and he can’t stop thinking about how lucky he is. He is in love with the most beautiful and powerful and kindest man in the entire world. And Magnus loves him back with the same earnest and pure strength. As many times before, Alec ponders what he has done to deserve that. He always thought he would never love and be loved by anyone. He was ready to shut down and live until a demon pierced through his heart and he died an honorable death while in duty. Now? He fights with all he has to make sure he will come back home at the end of the day. Because he has someone waiting for him. He has a home. However, his home is not the loft somewhere in Brooklin.
His home is a Downworlder with mesmerizing cat eyes, sparkling clothes and hair, blue glow and a smile which melts every fear, anger, cold and worries of his body. With Magnus, Alec smiles. Rests. Feels. Dreams.
Alec is.
“What is going on inside the head of my fearless Nephilim?” Magnus mumbles, his eyes fluttering open. He looks up and meets those beautiful hazel eyes with a fond smile.
“You,” Alec kisses his head again, tightening his hold of Magnus. “Always you.”
“Sappy,” Magnus purrs, smiling contently. He pushes himself up, just enough to peck Alec’s lips. He lingers a little, feeling Alec’s calm breath. Then, he faintly brushes their lips, slowly, tentatively, again and again until Alec can’t hold anymore and deepens the contact.
They kiss for a while, just feeling each other. Minutes later, somehow sated, they go back to their previous position.
“Remember when Clary told us about the other dimension?” Alec asks, caressing Magnus’ hair.
“The one where my fashion style is non-existent and you burned your closet before even entering it?”
Alec snorts at that, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, that one. Do you think…” The Shadowhunter’s voice is soft, barely a whisper, but Magnus can hear him perfectly. “Do you think they also found their way to each other?” Do you think they also fell in love with each other? It is what he really wanted to ask.
“Perhaps. Biscuit said she couldn’t see much of what was happening, but she had the impression we both were pretty smitten with each other. And that you were flirting with me.” Magnus grins. If it wasn’t so invasive, he would love to check Clary’s memories just to watch that.
Alec chuckles, trying to not think about how warm his face is right now. “I hope they get together like us. At least there aren’t demons in that dimension, so they can have a peaceful life.”
Magnus catches the hint of anguish in his boyfriend’s voice and looks up at him again.
“Alexander, if this is about yesterday, I swear I am—“
“It’s not that,” Alec cuts him, but soon shakes his head. “I mean, it is, but…” He absentmindedly licks his lips. “I guess it’s inevitable. We, my siblings, our friends… We will always have this shadow threatening to suffocate us if we aren’t careful enough. I… I was just thinking. There might be more dimensions out there, right? Different universes. Sometimes I like to think we meet and get together in each and all of them.”
“Did Samuel and Isabelle make you watch another sci-fi marathon?” Magnus lifts one brow, amused.
“I’m serious, okay?” Alec scoffs, but there is some endearment in his expression. “I know that it’s impossible for us to be together or happy in all dimensions, but… But it would be good if we are in most of them. Because I think… I… I believe there is no world where I wouldn’t love you.”
Magnus’ expression softens so much and his heart feels so full, he barely holds his glamour. What he did to deserve this man?
“Do you think it would be different if we have met earlier?” Alec continues, again nudging his nose against Magnus’ hair. God, he loves Magnus’ smell.
“If we did, you would be a child, and it wouldn’t be good.” Magnus quips, and Alec snorts but smiles nonetheless.
“But I have a feeling you would have waited for me anyway.”
“Oh, darling. I’ve waited centuries for someone like you. And now, I’ve finally found you.”
“Look who is the sappy one now,” Alec feels himself blushing again, but mumbles anyway. “Thank you for not giving up on me,” embracing Magnus a bit more, he kisses his forehead wishing to transmit everything he is feeling. “I love you so much, Magnus.”
Magnus smiles. He is whole, so full of love for this Shadowhunter that sometimes he doesn’t know how to take such happiness.
“I love you too, Alexander.”
#shadowhunters#malec#magnus bane#alexander lightwood#my writing#fluff#a lot of fluff#aria-lerendeair#just-another-lightwood-bane
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Promises BONUS III | Peter Parker x Reader
So...this is it, guys. The end of the road. :’( On the bright side, though, I’ve had so, so, so much fun with this series and I feel like I grew a lot as a writer through this. I explored a lot of new scenes and emotions and POVs which gave me an idea for a new series I want to start with an OC (@dahliaspidey knows exactly what I’m talking about here), and I never would have felt confident enough to write it if I hadn’t written Promises. These bonuses were kind of a last hoorah for me to finish off the series because I had so much left to say about Peter and Y/N’s future that I couldn’t not share it.
I want to thank everyone who has shown me support through this series, and even though it doesn’t have as many notes as I’d hoped when I first started writing, it’s been good for me. Especially now that I want to write an OC, and we all know how those go. However, I know now how to write for myself and that I’m always going to have someone who supports me. So, if that’s you you haven’t gone unnoticed. I appreciate you so much, and even if you only stick around long enough to leave a like I want you to know I appreciate you, too. :)
Anyways...Onward! This is the bonus I’ve been wanting to write since the very beginning, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It encompasses what this entire series was built off of: angst, frustration, tears, and a good dose of fluff to make up for it. I love you all!<3
Words: 6.6k
Warnings: Angst, tears, sadness, mentions of anxiety...then f l u f f
-Masterlist-
P R O M I S E S - B O N U S T H R E E :
“Mary-Jane Parker, you get back here right now!”
The four-year-old simply giggled from her hiding place in the closet, a large hand sneaking from behind her to cover her mouth. When it served no help in muffling the noise, which only seemed to grow louder at the attempt of being quieted, the hand offered her another one of her favorite cookies. She took it without hesitation, shoving it into her mouth and smearing chocolate on her white shirt.
“Oh, c’mon–did you really have to do that?” the cookie-offerer whispered in distress, attempting to brush away the mess she’d created. “We had a deal, Miss Virginia Parker, and now your mom’s going to kill me and it’ll be all your fault.”
Mary-Jane Virginia Parker smiled a toothy grin, tipping her head back to look at the man behind her. “Sowy Gwanpa Pops,” she said through the mouthful of cookie she still had, her words coming out jumbled and skewed but nevertheless warming the fifty-year-old’s heart.
“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about–how am I supposed to be mad at you when you say stuff like that? Please, please never learn how to pronounce your ‘r’s, because it’s the cutest damn–dang, sorry, and please don’t tell your mom I said that–thing I’ve ever heard.”
The girl giggled again and reached a hand out for the Chips Ahoy! package her grandpa still held. He rolled his eyes but gave her another, this time taking one for himself as well.
“How long aw we gonna hide fwum Mommy?” she asked after chewing and swallowing and grabbing another. Tony knew he was going to get into huge trouble by letting her have so many cookies and agreeing to hide her so she didn’t have to take a nap, but it was Christmas Eve and he just wanted as much time with his granddaughter as possible before the Parkers headed back home to Queens.
So, Tony shrugged. “Until nap time is over, I guess.”
The girl’s eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe it was possible to hide for so long. “But what if Mommy finds us?”
“You’ve played hide-and-go-seek before, right? The tag version?”
She nodded quickly, loving every opportunity she got to show her grandpa how much she knew. “I love that game, Gwandpa Pops! Sophia and Maggie and I play it all the time! I can wun fastah than anyone on the playgwound!”
Tony grinned, a sense of pride filling him even if there was no definite proof that was true. But with half of Peter's DNA in her, it was possible. Though, they wouldn’t know that for sure until she was older. Much older, hopefully. “Good. When your mommy finds us, we’re going to run faster than you ever have on the playground, all right?”
“All wight,” Mary-Jane nodded, now on a mission. “Can I have anothuh cookie pwease?”
Suddenly the closet door was yanked open and light filled the previously dark area. Mary-Jane reacted quicker than any of them could have hoped to themselves (except Peter, of course), snatching the package of cookies from her grandpa before squealing and sprinting through her mother’s legs into the hallway.
“Oh, I see how it is!” Tony shouted after her, now cookie and granddaughter-less. “Take the cookies and leave the old man to die!”
Of course, if the giant grin on his face said anything, he didn’t mean a single word.
There was a sigh and Tony sheepishly looked up, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, before you say anything, I haven’t seen my granddaughter in, like, a whole month now, so if you want to steal her away from me on Christmas Eve to go take a nap like some wimpy little kid-”
Tony ignored the exasperated, “-she is a little kid, Tony-” from his wife and went on.
“-then maybe you should let her come stay at Grandpa’s more often. I’m just saying.”
While Pepper simply looked frustrated, a guilty look suddenly overtook Y/N’s face. It still didn’t change the fact that Tony was at the mercy of the two scariest women on earth right now, but at least he wasn’t alone. He had Peter, who looked oddly entertained but slightly guilty as well.
“Peter, can you go find our daughter, please?” Y/N said, sighing. “Tell her no nap, but we do have to have a family discussion in the living room.”
“Wait...” Tony said, looking between his wife and daughter-in-law with practiced caution. “Am I in trouble or not? Because on the one hand ‘no nap’ sounds like I won, but the family discussion part sounds like I’m walking to my deathbed.”
“Trust me, old man,” Pepper said with a roll of her eyes as she practically yanked him upright. “If we wanted to kill you, you’d have been dead ages ago.”
It was times like these where Tony was reminded just how terrifying his wife was. “Somehow, I know that’s absolutely true,” he agreed.
Pepper smirked, ushering Y/N to follow along behind them as they made their way to the living room. “Good to know old age hasn’t stolen all of your brains yet.”
Tony was about to protest when Peter and his granddaughter made their appearance, Mary-Jane sitting on her father’s shoulders while each of them chomped down on a cookie.
“Hey, Gwandpa Pops! Daddy wants to give you a cookie too since you only got one.”
Tony grinned and took the package Peter was stretching out to him, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about the situation but took the package anyway, looking inside it to find...nothing.
Tony looked up and glared. “You little sh-”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Pepper interrupted, giving Tony a dirty look. Tony winced and plopped down on the couch while Peter and Mary-Jane howled with laughter. Peter only shut up when Y/N gave him a nasty look of her own, which in turn made Tony snicker. Peter gently lowered Mary-Jane down and told her to go play in her room, then sat next to Tony.
“You’re whipped,” Tony whispered low enough so the girls (who were settling down on the couch across from them) couldn’t hear.
“At least I only answer to two women and not three,” Peter shot back, obviously referring to his wife and daughter. Tony chuckled, inconspicuously pointing to Pepper.
“I’ll believe that when I see you tell her no, Parker.”
Peter scowled but didn’t respond.
The mood in the room dropped from humorous to serious way too quickly for Tony’s liking, concern overtaking him when he saw Y/N holding Pepper’s hand and Peter suddenly leaning forward practically radiating anxiety. Although Tony knew there was nothing said that he hadn’t picked up on, he was positive he must’ve missed something that caused the mood in the room to become what it is. He thought about saying something but decided to let Y/N do the talking, which was probably the smartest choice considering his wife’s deadly stare.
“Okay, um…” Y/N looked at Peter, who nodded at her in support. “So, first things first, I guess. Um...well, the good news is that we’re pregnant again. A little girl.”
Tony simultaneously felt joy and dread fill his heart, and from the looks of it, Pepper was experiencing the same thing. This was nothing like the announcement for Mary-Jane, and the growing anxiety made his knee start to incessantly bounce.
“And?” Tony prodded impatiently.
Pepper’s jaw dropped. “Tony,” she hissed, her eyes aflame.
“What are you mad at me for?!” Tony exclaimed. “It was silent and I don’t do well with silence, you know that! And whenever there’s good news there’s bad news and I really don’t want to allow my head more time to dream up worst-case scenarios that keep me up all night! I was simply speeding the process along, that’s all!”
“Pepper, it’s okay,” Y/N assured her with a small smile. “Really. We all know Tony’s a blabbermouth, anyway. Were you really expecting anything else?”
“Hey, since when did it become ‘Gang up on Tony’ day? Because I elect to make it ‘Gang up on Peter’ day instead,” he said, ignoring Peter’s sputtered protests.
“Woah, that’s totally unfair!” he exclaimed. “And it’s so not cool.”
Tony shrugged, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, well, life’s uncool. Deal with it, kid.”
“But you can’t just do that-”
“Of course, I can. I’m Tony Stark-”
“And I’m your son-”
“The doctor doesn’t know if the baby will make it through the pregnancy.”
The room fell deadly silent after Y/N’s interruption, and the hint of a smile that had started to form on Tony’s face dropped. His heart stopped beating for a minute and his head went blank, completely lost on how to process the information. When he finally snapped back to reality, he saw that Pepper had a hand over her mouth in shock but that her eyes were filled with tears, Y/N was wringing her hands in anticipation, and the boy next to him...well, Peter looked utterly defeated.
“How…” Pepper’s voice shook. “How far along are you?”
“Eighteen weeks,” Y/N answered, looking down at the floor. “We just found out the gender yesterday before we came here. I’ve been on strict bed rest for the past six weeks which is why...well, why we haven’t been here.”
Tony suddenly felt guilty for throwing his granddaughter’s missing presence in their face now. He’d meant it as a joke because he was sure they had their reasons and that they weren’t purposefully keeping her from him, but...he would’ve never guessed that their reason was this.
“Does Mary-Jane know you’re pregnant?” Tony asked, feeling some of his anxiety slip away at Peter’s shake of the head.
“No. We...we didn’t want to tell her yet in case...in case…” The rest of the sentence was never spoken but fell just as heavy upon the room’s occupants as if it were.
After a bit of silence, Y/N spoke up again. “It doesn’t mean that we will lose her, it’s just...it’s just not highly likely that we won’t.” At that she started to cry, no longer able to hold back her trembling jaw and dam in her eyes. Pepper immediately brought her into her arms, and Tony was about to make his way over as well when Peter suddenly jumped up and ran down the hall. He debated for a moment where to go and who to comfort, because it was plainly obvious Y/N needed all the support she could get right now and that meant that Peter probably did too, but he also wasn’t sure if Peter’s running off meant he wanted to be alone. Lucky for him, Pepper opened her eyes to see his turmoil and nodded her chin toward where Peter had gone. Following his wife’s instructions, because her instincts were always right, he shot up, placed a kiss on Y/N’s head, then went off to chase Peter down.
“Pete?” he called out after searching for him for what felt like ages. And, yes, he could’ve just asked FRIDAY, but this time he preferred to find him himself. “Peter, bud, where are you?” Tony didn’t get a direct answer, but he did see a certain room light on without any noise to accompany the sign of life inside. He took a breath before opening up the door.
Bright pink walls and a littered room floor filled his view, Barbies and stuffed animals and storybooks scattered all over the place like an intricate booby trap. Luckily there weren’t any Legos within the mess; he’d stepped on enough of Peter’s to last a lifetime. And, in the midst of it all, he saw the boy he’d been looking for.
Tony quietly lowered himself to the ground next to Peter, careful not to disturb the sleeping girl in front of him.
“She’s always needed her afternoon nap,” Peter said, his eyes not looking away from his daughter. Tony smiled at the Spider-Man toy she held as she slept, curled into a ball that made her look ten times smaller than she already was. “One time when she was two, she got so grumpy with us for not making her take a nap that she just laid down on the floor and took matters into her own hands. Slept hard as a rock,” he chuckled.
“And now here we are,” Tony said with a grin, not doubting for a second that the story wasn’t true. Mary-Jane Virginia Parker had been stubbornly independent since the day she was born, each passing day growing into a stronger leader than she was the day before.
“Here we are,” Peter agreed, a smile on his face. “Seven hundred and thirty days later and we’re in the exact same position.”
They both were quiet for a while, Peter eventually reaching out to brush Mary-Jane’s curly brown hair out of her face. It seemed that touching her was all it took for him to break, as his entire body immediately began to shake.
Tony didn’t dare touch Peter for fear he’d really start to cry and the four-year-old would wake up to the scene. “Let me get her into bed and I’ll meet you down in the lab, okay, Pete?”
Peter nodded and quickly stepped out of the room without a single comment; Tony thought it would be harder to get him to leave but, then again, Peter probably hadn’t wanted to wake Mary-Jane and cause her to ask questions they couldn’t answer about why her dad was crying.
Tony’s knees popped and his back protested as he picked up the little girl and carried her to her bed, tucking her in and giving her a kiss. He took a moment just to look and take her in—his only granddaughter and the only person he could love more than anyone else in the world. And now he was supposed to get two—two beautiful baby girls—and so was Peter and so was Y/N and so was Mary-Jane, but now it was possible she’d be taken away from them before they could get to know her and it wasn’t fair.
But looking at Peter and Y/N and how strong their first daughter turned out to be, he hoped—he knew—that that baby girl was going to live. She was going to defeat every odd in the book and come out stronger than anyone could have hoped; she was going to be the biggest miracle they’d ever experienced because there was no other option.
She was going to live. She had to.
Tony eventually made his way to the lab, feeling both hesitant and eager to get to his kid as quickly as possible. He wasn’t sure he would have the right words to say, but he could try.
He’d lost too much in his life, and fate be damned if it was going to try to take that baby girl away from him too.
When he got down to the lab, he half expected to see Peter sobbing in a corner somewhere he couldn’t easily be seen. However, it wasn’t what he got. Instead, he got what looked like a lifeless Peter sat on a workbench with head in hands, his body absolutely still. Tony carefully approached him, not sure what to do. He received no reaction as he got closer, leading him to perch himself on the seat beside his unusually quiet kid. Tony didn’t know if he was supposed to break the silence or not, but luckily he didn’t have to wonder long.
“Hey.”
Tony winced at the sound of his voice, raw and ruined. Maybe he’d stayed in the room with Mary-Jane longer than he thought he did–long enough, at least, for Peter to cry until his lungs gave out.
He lifted his hand and dropped it onto Peter’s shoulder, choosing to go with silent acknowledgment rather than verbal. Apparently that was all Peter needed to break down again, as his voice dropped to a whisper and he brokenly sobbed, “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Dad. I can’t-I can’t lose one of her. I can’t lose her, Dad, I can’t.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out who Peter was referring to, and normally Tony would have made some sort of quip about his ingenuity, but now all he did was reach over and wrap his kid up in his arms. Peter laid his head on his shoulder, and his hands shook as he clutched onto Tony’s AC/DC shirt. Tony couldn’t help it when tears pricked his eyes and a lump formed in his throat; seeing Peter like this–so broken, so afraid, so helpless–hurt more than he ever imagined it could. And Tony was afraid too, because that was his granddaughter and his kid and his daughter-in-law the world was messing with, but he had to be strong now. If not for Peter and Y/N, then for himself.
“You won’t,” Tony said, his voice firm but quiet. “You won’t lose her.”
Peter didn’t respond at first. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’m a genius,” Tony automatically quipped and immediately regretted it when he felt Peter stiffen. “Sorry, sorry–not the time for my not-so-genius wit, I know.” He took a deep breath. “Look, Pete, I know it seems like this is the end of the world for you, but let me tell you something: That baby you’re mourning right now? She’s still alive. Her heart is still beating and her brain is still thinking, yet you’re acting like she’s already gone. She’s alive, Peter. She’s alive, and she’s yours, and she needs every ounce of love and encouragement she can get so she can grow.”
“She’s not a plant, Dad,” Peter mumbled, voice muffled by Tony’s shirt.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Hear me out, okay? Yeah, maybe she’s small right now or the doctor is expecting some sort of health issues, but even if she was born a little small or with six toes, you’d still love her, right? And you better say yes, because if you don’t this whole plan I had laid out in my head just went to shit.”
Peter smiled–just a little bit–and Tony felt accomplished.
“Of course I would. I do.”
“Then what are you doing sitting here crying for her?” Tony asked seriously, pulling Peter off his shoulder and looking him straight in the eye. He was simultaneously going for tough love and compassion, making his next few sentences come out assertive yet soft. “You love her, so act like it. Look–if Mary-Jane told you she wanted to play on the soccer team but was horrifyingly bad at it, you wouldn’t stomp on her dreams, would you? You’d encourage her, Pete; you’d cheer her on, no matter what. Mary-Jane is strong and brilliant and braver than I ever could be–what do you think makes this little girl any different?”
It was silent for a long time as Peter simply stared at Tony with eyes full of unshed tears. Then he started to smile–a watery smile but one nonetheless.
“She is brilliant, isn’t she?” he tearily laughed.
“Of course she is,” Tony said. “I’m her grandpa.”
Peter smirked. “Grandpa Pops.”
Tony playfully glared as he pulled Peter back in for a half hug, half noogie. “Get over here, you little twit.”
—
The call came in the middle of the night at approximately 2:33am, disturbing Tony’s and Pepper’s rest alike (though Tony had only been asleep for an hour now). Pepper stumbled out of bed to grab the phone–whether it was his phone or his wife’s he didn’t know. He was expecting her to simply decline the call and take care of whichever important business person forgot time zones were something that existed in the morning, but she instead of picked it up with a too loud, “Hello?”
Tony groaned and grumpily mumbled, “Who the hell-” but was interrupted by the ‘zip it’ motion given by his wife. He turned over and put a pillow over his head, grumbling to himself and fully planning to murder whoever was calling at 2:33 in the morning. That was until he heard the next words from his wife’s mouth.
“Right now? She’s in labor right now?!”
Suddenly Tony was more awake, moving the pillow off his head and shooting upright. He looked at Pepper to hopefully get some answers, but all he got was a frantic waving toward the closet. Luckily Tony picked up on it and threw the sheets off of him, nearly tripping over his own feet as he picked out clothes for the hospital.
“Peter–Peter calm down, okay, hun? Take a breath–Peter, slow down!”
Tony’s heart clenched and he finished slipping on his chosen AC/DC shirt (he still couldn’t believe that the kid mistook them for Led Zeppelin) only to leave his pants behind as he rushed to Pepper. She was still trying to get Peter to calm down–unsuccessfully, it sounded like–but before she could say anything further Tony impatiently stuck his hand out and said, “Give me the phone, Pep.”
She looked relieved, not even bothering to tell Peter she was handing over the phone before depositing it into Tony’s hand and going to get dressed herself.
As Tony put the phone to his ear, he immediately heard the ramble the kid was in the middle of, panicked and breathless. He didn’t waste any time in reacting. “Peter? Pete, it’s me, kid. Breathe. I mean it, Underoos. Breathe. Breathe, and then we can talk, okay? I’m not talking to you until you pause for a minute and breathe.”
The rambling died almost immediately, replaced by gasps for air that were partially caused by not breathing for a good minute and a half and partially by the anxiety Tony was sure was coursing through the kid. Tony let the silence go on for a few more seconds before speaking again. “Okay, kid, that’s a good start. Now, when you’re ready to tell me what’s going on, I’m listening.”
Surprisingly, Peter took a few more breaths before beginning to explain. “It’s Y/N–she’s in labor right now. We just got to the hospital and the doctors are getting everything ready and oh my go-”
“Breathe, Pete. Remember?”
He took in a choked breath. “Yeah–right. Right.”
Tony waited a moment or two, contemplating on where to lead the conversation. “What’s up, kid? Are you all right? Is Y/N all right?”
“I don’t–I mean, yeah, Y/N’s fine, I’m fine, but like–what if it’s not, Mr. Stark? What if it goes wrong and something happens?”
“Listen to me, Peter,” Tony said seriously. “Everything is going to be okay. Remember almost five months ago when you didn’t know if you’d even make it to today? Well, today is here, Peter, and it’s waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and pull yourself together to go be with your wife and soon-to-be daughter. You got that? I know anxiety can be a pain in the ass, but you cannot let it win this time, okay, bud? There’s too many people who need you in that room right now, your unborn daughter being one of them. So know that Pep and I will be there, but you’ve got somewhere to be right now, and it is not in the hospital waiting room. You go there after little Anthony is born, okay?”
That managed to get a small laugh out of Peter, and Tony smiled in relief. “We’re not naming her Anthony, Mr. Stark; we’ve been over this.”
“Sorry Pete, you’re cutting out and I totally did not hear what you just said. But we’ll be there soon to meet little Miss Anthony Junior,” Tony joked as he sat on the bed and worked on putting on the pair of pants that Pepper handed to him; she was rolling her eyes and shaking her head at where their conversation had turned back to, but she had a smile on her face which told him she wasn’t truly annoyed. Besides, it had only ever been a joke; there was no way Tony would let them really name their daughter Anthony, which was why he found it so humorous when he entertained it.
Peter laughed again, then went quiet. Tony frowned. Just as he was about to check the phone to see if the call had dropped somehow, Peter spoke up. “Thank you, Dad.”
Tony genuinely smiled and finished putting his sweatpants on as he replied, “Anytime, Pete.”
The call ended.
—
The waiting room ended being pretty empty when they got there. Tony guessed it had something to do with the fact that it was three in the morning, but he knew for a fact that nothing good happened after midnight (nonetheless on a Friday night) so he was pleasantly surprised when he found that the only people he had to share a waiting room with was Pepper, May, Mary-Jane (who was sleeping on May’s lap when they arrived), Rhodey, Happy, and one night shift nurse who seemed close to falling asleep at the lack of patients. Rhodey and Happy had shown up a couple hours later at a more respectable hour, but only because Tony hadn’t called them until then.
They all took turns dozing off, making sure at least one of them was awake in case Peter would make an appearance. So far it had been radio silence, which was either really good or really bad, but no one but Tony seemed overly anxious about that so he forced himself to relax. He took Mary-Jane from May when she excused herself to the bathroom and went on a coffee run at about seven o’clock, knowing that at this point no one was going to be sleeping anymore; it had been close to four and a half hours now, so in about an hour they could start taking bets on when the next Parker would show up. Of course, there were no guarantees it would even happen until late afternoon, but he knew no one would bet that in order to avoid jinxing it. They were all eager, and hearing absolutely nothing for almost five hours was hard for all of them.
The waiting room started to fill up as time went on, but for a Saturday morning it wasn’t too bad. The poor night shift nurse left at seven o’clock, and May winced in empathy when she tripped over her feet trying to get to the time clock.
It was approximately seven-thirty when they started taking bets: May with her best guess being 9:30, Pepper with an optimistic 8:15, Rhodey with a strangely specific 9:52, Happy with a not-so-optimistic 11:45, Mary-Jane with a wild guess of 13:13 not knowing what exactly they were all talking about but wanting to participate anyway, and Tony with a guess he never got to speak because a familiar, more exhausted version of Peter Parker showed up. No one seemed to notice but him yet, so at Tony’s questioning look and Peter’s nod of his head, he wore a smile as he spoke past his throat suddenly closing up, “Seven thirty-seven?”
All heads snapped to the doorway now and May was the first to react, jumping up and rushing to her nephew to give him a hug. Peter closed his eyes and accepted the action, practically sinking into her arms. Mary-Jane went next, shouting an excited, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”
Soon the entire room followed, laughing and smiling through happy tears, and Tony had never seen Happy cry before, but now he was and he would hold it against him forever if not for the fact that he was crying too. All of those months endlessly stressing and worrying over Y/N and baby, praying that they would simply make it to tomorrow, finally could fade away. And the relief that resulted from that was enough to make tears arise in even the most emotionless man’s eyes.
“Not that I’m saying I don’t appreciate the hugs, but I think there’s some others who would like to see you as well,” Peter’s voice spoke, and suddenly everyone was stepping back and looking to him expectantly. He ran a tired hand down his face, accepting the coffee May handed him with a grateful smile. “There can only be two of you back there at one time for right now, excluding Mary-Jane. Everyone’s fine, but Momma and babies are exhausted and can’t handle everyone’s excitement all at one time.”
Only silence followed his statement, the only one not seeming to pick up on the heaviness of what Peter just said being the recently turned five-year-old currently clinging to her dad’s neck. Peter attempted a sly smirk, but it only came out as a half-smile.
“I’m sorry,” Tony said, still staring. “Did you just say babies? As in plural? As in babies, not baby?”
Peter’s smile grew slightly. “Oh, yeah–fun fact: Did you know it’s possible for an entire baby not to show up on a single ultrasound? Because I sure didn’t. Seems kind of ridiculous, right? But I guess that’s Parker luck for you. Leave it to us to beat the impossible; first becoming half-spider, then being discovered and mentored by the Tony Stark, somehow managing to get a girl way out of my league, then having a baby we weren’t even supposed to have, let alone two of them.”
May let out a breathy laugh and lifted a hand to her mouth to keep her cries muffled. Pepper did much the same, laughing as tears shone in her eyes. Rhodey simply laughed and clapped him on the back while Happy grinned and rested a hand on May’s shoulder. Tony still stood there, seemingly speechless, until Peter turned to him for a reaction.
“How do you miss a whole ass baby?”
Pepper gasped and hit him across the arm but he paid no attention to her, only staring at Peter as he threw his head back and laughed and May put her hands over Mary-Jane’s ears. Tony finally started to break out into a grin since the new announcement, itching to get his hands on his two new granddaughters.
When Peter finally settled down, his extended laughter probably due to sleep deprivation and complete and utter exhaustion, he held Mary-Jane closer to him and placed a kiss on her head before turning his gaze to Tony and May. He softly smiled, his eyes tired but never so alight with happiness. “Did you want to meet them?”
“Do you even have to ask?” May responded, using a tissue to dab at her eyes. Peter looked at Tony now, raising a brow inquisitively. He rolled his eyes, sniffing in an attempt to hide his previous tears (though he was sure there was no use, proven by Rhodey’s quiet snicker at the action).
“What Aunt Hottie said, kid.”
Peter nodded and turned to everyone else sympathetically. “I promise you’ll get to meet them soon. I just...we just feel like May and Tony should be the first considering…” He trailed off, his eyes begging them to understand.
Pepper stepped forward and kissed the boy on the cheek, smiling comfortingly at him. “Don’t worry about it, Peter. We understand, I promise.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rhodey said with a smirk. “Letting the proud parents go first and everything–it’s tradition.”
Tony rolled his eyes at his friend and shoved him half-heartedly back toward the waiting room but didn’t attempt to deny it. After all, Peter was his son and Y/N was practically a daughter, and he knew May felt the same.
As Peter led them back to the room, Mary-Jane participated in making funny faces from her place in her father’s arms, facing her Grandpa Pops and Grandma May and currently competing with them both to see who could make the goofiest face. Peter looked behind him at one point to see Tony’s attempt and burst into laughter, May hurriedly telling him to shush (as though she wasn’t laughing) before they woke up the babies. And considering they were right outside the door, it was probably a valid concern. Not one that stopped Mary-Jane, however, from squirming out of her father’s arms and opening the door himself, running into the room and yelling, “Mommy!”
Peter cursed and quickly followed, grabbing her just in time to keep her from jumping onto Y/N. Y/N looked at her husband gratefully and relieved before smiling at her daughter and gesturing for Peter to lay her down beside her.
“Hey, baby,” she greeted, combing her fingers through her hair. “Did you have a fun time with your grandparents and uncles?”
Mary-Jane nodded and snuggled into her mother’s side, closing her eyes with a yawn. “We played lots of games and I won them all.”
Y/N now turned her gaze to Tony and May, who were standing in the door still, transfixed as they watched Peter walk to the other side of the room to carefully scoop up a tiny, sleeping baby with a pink hat. She smiled at them, her eyes even darker than Peter’s, and said, “Who would’ve thought that all this time we were worrying for just one baby Parker, we were actually worrying for two?”
May laughed and finally stepped inside, going over to her daughter-in-law and giving her a gentle hug. “You did good, sweetheart.”
“May?” Peter interrupted quietly. When she turned around, he nodded his head toward the bundle in his arms and asked, “Do you want to hold her?”
May hurriedly nodded and stepped back, sitting on one of three chairs beside the bed. Tears reappeared in her eyes as Peter lowered the baby girl down into her arms and she choked on them as she whispered, “She’s so beautiful.”
Peter smiled and lowered himself beside her, staring lovingly at his aunt and newborn daughter. “She is, isn’t she?”
May only laughed and ran a gentle finger down the girl’s cheek. “Oh, Peter. She’s perfect.”
Tony blinked and fell out of his stupor, stupidly stumbling forward until he could peer around May’s shoulder at the tiny bundle of joy. He didn’t have to stare for more than a tenth of a second to decide that she was, indeed, perfect. He smiled, biting the inside of his cheek to fight the tears wanting to flood his eyes.
“What’s her name, Underoos?”
Peter looked at May with a loving grin. “We thought Bailee May sounded pretty good to us, if it sounds good to you.”
May snapped her head around to look at both her nephew and his wife, her lip trembling. “You...you’re serious?”
Y/N spoke up, her eyes drooping but her mind still conscious enough to respond. “Never been more serious.”
May choked on a sob, reaching an arm to Peter to pull him into an awkward yet suffocating embrace. “Of course. Of course, it sounds good to me, you guys.”
When Peter pulled away he stood, nodding at his seat while he looked at Tony, obviously wanting him to sit. Tony obeyed but couldn’t ignore the wide grin spreading on Y/N’s face as Peter went to get Baby Girl Number Two.
There was only one problem.
When Peter lifted Baby Girl Number Two out of the cradle, it was, in fact, not a baby girl at all. A blue hat adorned this baby’s head, along with a little blue blanket, and Tony wondered why he thought that both of them had to be girls, but he didn’t care.
“That’s not a girl,” he managed to say as Peter handed the baby over to him. He took the third chair beside him, leaning over to tuck his beanie back over his ear.
“No, I’d say not,” Peter laughed, Y/N chuckling as well. It was only then that Tony realized Mary-Jane had been unusually quiet, chancing a glance over to see her fast asleep against her mother’s shoulder. He smiled, and looked back down at the other sleeping Parker he held in his arms. It was silent for awhile as the room’s occupants admired the view, and for once Tony was completely content with the quiet.
A tiny noise escaped the equally tiny lips of his only grandson (his favorite grandson, now), and his little fists clenched and unclenched as he sleepily wiggled around. Without a second thought, Tony gently reached for his hand and stroked the back of it.
“What’s his name, Pete?” May whispered, Tony just barely picking up the question as his attention was focused solely on his grandson.
“Benjamin,” Peter answered, looking at his aunt with a sad but content smile. “I think he would’ve liked that.”
May bowed her head with a matching smile, nodding ever so slightly. “I know he would’ve liked that.”
“His full name is Benjamin Anthony,” Y/N spoke, sensing that Peter was too lost in thought to finish and May was too deep into her emotions to recognize that Peter hadn’t fully answered her question. But Tony was listening. “Benjamin Anthony Parker.” He froze, staring at his daughter-in-law with wide eyes. She simply smiled and nodded once in his direction. “No, we weren’t going to name our baby girl Anthony, so when we got a boy...well, that was really a no-brainer.”
Tony stared for a few more seconds at a clearly amused Y/N before turning to Peter. Peter was wearing the same look. The only thing he had to offer was, “Dad, meet your namesake. Benjamin Anthony, meet your grandpa.”
Another noise escaped the boy’s tiny mouth as if in acknowledgment, causing Tony to look back at him. Suddenly the weight he felt in his arms wasn’t only physical weight but the weight of his love. And as he looked around the room at his ever-growing family, that weight only grew heavier. But he welcomed it, the weight warm and pleasant and filling his heart with light.
Tears pricked his eyes and he turned back to the bundle he was holding, sniffing as he murmured, “Hey there, Ben. Guess you’re our little miracle. I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun times together, but just remember to admit nothing and deny everything.” Ben started wiggling again, uncontent with his inability to move even while asleep, causing Tony to chuckle. “Your chance of not having ADHD was already screwed with your dad’s genes, but with me in your name it’s practically a double whammy and I can’t even say I’m sorry about that right now. God, the world doesn’t stand a chance, does it?”
Ben made a noise again, and Tony would’ve commented on it had it not been followed by the opening of his eyes. He was speechless, mesmerized by the baby blues that he knew would turn brown like his sister’s when he got older. But they were absolutely perfect now, as were the little fingers now wrapping around one of Tony’s own. The tears that were swimming in his eyes fell, and he didn’t even try to hold them back. He smiled wider and with more love than he had in a long time, leaning closer and whispering, “Let me tell you something, Ben: you’re my whole world–you and your sisters and your mom and dad and grandma. And I promise that I won’t let you go a single day without feeling loved, because I love you so much, buddy. I promise I’ll never stop loving you–not for a month, or a day, or even a single second.”
Ben’s eyes fluttered back closed and he fell back into sleep, but his fist refused to let go of its grip on Tony’s finger. Tony closed his own eyes and gently touched his head to Ben’s, being careful not to let any tears drip on his face.
“I promise,” he whispered. “I promise.”
—
Promises Tag List: @mintaeroandmerlin @thehollandfam @trumpettay @ganggangganggg @secretagentben @rayanismybae* @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @shewhoshallnotswear @slytherpuffyy @mutuallynotmutual* @the-kylialovesyou @babebenhardy @lilbeatlebear @obsessive-fangirl44
Permanent Tag List: @lemirabitur @my-meant-to-find-blog @jongindeepbreath @tomspideyweb@farfromjustordinary @tomsstarlight @delicately-written @catstielanddeanthedog @tom-holland-and-textposts @spiderman-n @wtfholland @hollandandi @starsholland @celestialparker @beautiful-holland @spideycentral-1 @laurfangirl424 @dahliaspidey @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @smexylemony @antifaspiderman @trashqueenbitch @fireboltrose7559 @propertyofmarvel @perhaps-he-schnapped @ofserien @mariemrose @toxic-pineapple @chewymoustachio @captainstartights
#promises#bonus three#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker fic#peter parker imagine#peter parker fandom#peter parker au#peter parker fanfiction#spider-man#spider man x reader#spider man x y/n#spider man x you#spider man fic#spider man fandom#spider man imagine#spider man au#spider man fanfiction#series#marvel#endgame?#who's she?#i don't know her
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In Defense of Alvin Murphy
I’ve been having thoughts ever since watching Z Nation. Twice. And I had to get this all off my chest. But, I’m just gonna put this under a read more because this will probably be super long.
So, as I said above, this is mostly just something I needed to post about so I can finally think about something else, lol. Most of what I’m writing is based on canon, while some sections (which I’ll try to make obvious) are educated guesses based on what we do know, and what makes sense (to me anyway). I’m going to try and keep it in some kind of order, but it might get a bit ramble-y.
While it obviously isn’t everyone, there are a lot of people who just really hate Murphy. And while everyone’s entitled to their opinions, sometimes I feel it’s a little unjustified. Not only that, he gets a lot of hate in the show from various characters. Now, I’m not going to claim Murphy is a saint who can do no wrong—he’s done plenty wrong. But this post is basically about putting things in perspective. If this interests you, please continue reading. Otherwise, move on I guess?
Sometimes it feels as though people seem to forget that Murphy has some major PTSD. Many of the characters do, but here’s the thing: those characters are often treated with sympathy, where Murphy is not. Example: Murphy panics in the elevator when they’re looking for McCandles, and Warren smacks him and tells him to stop (paraphrasing), but when Warren has a panic attack in the box in the labyrinth, Sarge helps her out and people are sympathetic. Not that they shouldn’t, but it’s a stark difference between similar moments.
Let’s not forget that Murphy was in prison for Postal Fraud. Not murder. Not rape. Not terrorism. Not drugs. Postal Fraud. And he was sentenced to 3 years, when the maximum can be up to 20 years with a $250,000 fine, unless it involves a “presidentially declared major disaster or emergency” which can land you 30 years and $1 million dollar fine. AKA, whatever Murphy did, it was really minor. (You can find info and the quote if you google Postal Fraud)
In the flashback we see of him in season 2, Murphy sees his first zombie; a dude shanked by another dude. Chronologically, Murphy is then given the vaccine during Black Summer. When we see Murphy in the pilot, he’s got a full beard, meaning some time has passed between seeing his first Z and being vaccinated.
Here’s where a bit of educated guessing comes in: we don’t see what happens to him between those two times. It would make sense to me that, if there’s been a zombie outbreak and food/water is going to run out, prisoners would be kept in their cells indefinitely (or almost so). Which would then give a pretty good explanation to Murphy’s claustrophobia. Whether he was in the cell alone or not, that’s a tiny space, and can you imagine the kind of terror that would come with that? Probably hearing other prisoners turn? All it would take is one guard getting bitten by mistake and the whole place would descend into chaos.
Back to what we know for sure. At some point after seeing his first zombie, he is then forcibly taken to the prison lab to be experimented on. Murphy, strapped to a table, has to watch two other prisoners die after being injected—one of which seized so hard he broke his own neck. Then he’s injected, and left behind, where he’s mauled by zombies and is awake and experiences them tearing into his body.
Then, to add insult to injury, Murphy is led around for a year by Hammond—you know, one of the people who abandoned him to be bitten—to try and bring him to California where he will be, once again, experimented on. We see how Hammond treats people, especially Murphy. He yanks and shoves him around, and we see he even treats people he views as human kind of like crap; Murphy is just a “package” to him. In fact, Murphy is called “the package” by just about everyone.
(remember that Hammond hauled Murphy from the truck and demanded he show Warren and Garnette the bites. Against his will.)
So, Murphy’s been traumatized, experimented on, and treated as less than human by the military, and then he’s taken in by people who also view him as less than human. Is it really any wonder he acts like an asshole? I doubt any normal person would be nice and friendly after all that.
The first person that actually tries to ask about what happened is Doc, but Murphy has no reason to trust him and lies about having volunteered to do it (I doubt Doc believes it, but he doesn’t ask further about it either). So yes, Murphy could have told Delta X-ray Delta exactly what happened, and maybe that would have gotten him the sympathy he deserved. However, they all know he was bitten eight times, so you’d think that alone would be enough to be treated with some kindness. But nah, they all are happy to push him around and tell him to shut up and again continue referring to him as “the package”.
It only gets worse as Murphy starts to turn blue. Not only does Murphy have to deal with the fact he’s being dragged across America to be experimented on by Dr. Mercy again, he then has to deal with the fact he’s, literally, falling apart.
Yes, Murphy takes water from that family and lets the husband inside. Yes, that was an awful thing to do. But, Murphy’s natural inclination is not to be a murderer (if they actually died). So I was thinking about the situation from Murphy’s perspective. The mother and daughter were hiding out in a building waiting for the husband to return. When he took the water, neither fought back, which can get you killed in the apocalypse. Even if he hadn’t taken the water, how long would they have lasted? Especially if they waited there for the husband to come back and he never did? They likely would have starved or died of dehydration. As Murphy leaves, he stops, thinks, then lets the zombiefied husband inside. I think it’s entirely possible that, from his prospective, he was helping in a way. The mother and daughter wouldn’t die wondering what happened to him, and could be viewed as a twisted sort of mercy. Again, not a good thing to do, and I’m not excusing him. But it’s a point to ponder.
Next I wanted to talk about Cassandra. Well, when Murphy bit her. Like with 10K, we never actually see the bite happen. What we see is Murphy going past everyone who’s devastated by Cassandra dying, and then entering the room and looking at her. Now, up to that point, Murphy had only bitten/infected four people, and controlled three of them sort of. The first person he bit, that guy at the Fu-Bar, died and didn’t turn. Now, based on the fact that even Murphy seemed surprised by Cassandra’s return, and her strange behavior, my guess is that he bit her to keep her from becoming a Z. He knew she meant a lot to the others, and despite his outward behavior, I think it’s safe to say Murphy does care about them at this point. So it would make sense to me that he would assume seeing her turn into a zombie would be heartbreaking to everyone else, and therefore bit her to prevent that, not knowing she would become a Blend and come after him.
In the final episode of season 1, Murphy sees what became of Patient Zero. He sees a man melted to a table, still alive, and begging for death, and knows he could become him. Then he learns Dr. Kurian isn’t who he says he is and could be wanting to kill or torture him (like the other experiments in the lab). (An aside: Dr. Merch worked in that lab, meaning she had a hand in those experiments.)
So again, I don’t find it unreasonable that Murphy, triggered by his trauma and impending kidnapping, fled. Flight or Fight, and we know Murphy prefers not to fight. So he ran. Someone in that kind of head-space is not going to be thinking of other people, and it would be unreasonable to expect that.
Then the beginning of season 2 is marked by people hunting Murphy down. People who are completely willing to break his legs to get the bounty. Again, he was being treated as less than human. The only bright spot in his life was Lucy, who he felt like he had to give up because he believed the group would hurt her. Considering the way they talked about him and her, and the fact they’re totally okay with allowing a baby to be experimented on, he wasn’t wrong to be worried.
Then we get the lovely episode The Collector. You know, the episode where Murphy was electrocuted multiple times. If you take a look at ScriptTorture like I have—specifically their electrical torture tag—you’ll see just how bad even one shock can be, let alone however many he got there. Being shocked with electricity can cause: heart attacks, muscle spasms enough to break bones, someone biting their own tongue off by mistake, death from falling because of muscle failure, burns, and bruising. While we know Murphy didn’t experience those (luckily) it’s still torture, and still incredibly painful for him. And let’s not forget he got shocked with a cattle prod back in the first episode of the season, and that he later gets repeatedly shocked in that episode with the Zuggalos.
The end of the episode leaves us with Murphy asking Warren to promise him she won’t let him be alone when they get to the CDC. And she does. Until a few episodes later, anyway. During the flashback episode, we get a scene where Murphy tells Warren he’s scared and that if she was his friend, she wouldn’t leave him alone at the CDC. What’s Warren’s response to this? “I’m not your friend” and “There are some things we have to do alone, even if it hurts.” Like, wow, nice, so glad you don’t care you’re breaking Murphy down further.
And then to find out Dr. Merch and the others on the sub weren’t even going to save humanity, just the rich people on Zona? To know he’d been subjected to all that shit for nothing? Yeah, Murphy had every right to be upset and to try and take matters into his own hands. A persona can only take so much before they snap, after all.
You know what’s ridiculous? That Warren & Co (minus 10k) were totally fine with Hector/Escorpion hanging out with them despite, you know, torturing Vasquez, killing multiple people even before the apocalypse, trying to kill 10k (the ep where he was with Sketchy and Skeezy), being part of a Cartel… But Murphy being snarky and occasionally an asshole is just so much worse, I guess.
Now I want to address Murphy biting 10k. Like with Cassandra, we don’t see what happens, just the before and after. But let’s think back on some things. Murphy bit Cassandra because she was dying. Murphy did NOT bite 10k when the Collector ordered him to because there was another way out. Murphy did NOT inject Warren & Co when they were with The Zeros, when he had the opportunity and even motive to. So then we have 10k on the sub, shot in the stomach. We last see 10k (pre-bite) stumbling off the table in the sub. Despite being bandaged, he didn’t look like he was doing too well. When we see 10k later, he has no memory of the bite happening. Murphy can do a lot, but we’ve never seen him erase someone’s memories. Now, looking at Murphy’s past actions, and what we see going on with 10k, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that, perhaps, 10k fainted or was knocked out. Falling to the floor or against a wall could have very easily re-opened his stitches, causing him to bleed again. Now if Murphy saw this, he could have easily thought that 10k was dying and bitten him.
All that isn’t to say Murphy wasn’t in the wrong for trying to control 10k, because he was, but I find it hard, if not impossible, to believe it was a lie when Will said that Murphy cared about him and didn’t want to hurt him.
Honestly, season 3 feels kind of like a mess when it comes to vilifying Murphy and trying to make it seem like Warren is in the right. I’m honestly glad when Murphy calls out her hypocrisy, because Warren keeps saying freedom is important, and free will is important. But apparently when the people go to Murphy of their own free will to get his cure, that doesn’t count. Warren was totally okay with slaughtering a bunch of people (with the help of the Red Hand who are also a bunch of murderers), because they felt safe with Murphy. And why wouldn’t they? He made them immune to Zs, got them fresh water, functioning electricity, and food.
Which brings me to another point I want to make. People love to call Murphy a narcissist. While he does act arrogantly, he’s not a narcissist. To be classified as a narcissist, a person must exhibit 5 or more of the following symptoms:
A grandiose sense of self-importance
Preoccupation with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love
Belief that one is special and can only be understood by or associate with special people or institutions
A need for excessive admiration
A sense of entitlement (to special treatment)
Exploitation of others
A lack of empathy
Envy of others or the belief that one is the object of envy
Arrogant, haughty behavior or attitudes
A grandiose sense of self-importance: Nope. Murphy frequently said he didn’t want to be The Savior, that he wanted to be normal and die like everyone else. When he does refer to himself as The Savior, it’s highly sarcastic or to stay alive.
Preoccupation with fantasies of success, power, etc.: Again, no. The closest he gets is saying he could have been an action news anchor if he’d applied himself.
Only associating with special people and institutions: No. Murphy associates with everyone. Does he get a little close to this with Zona in season 4? Yeah, but since it isn’t exclusive it doesn’t count as this.
A need for excessive admiration: Nah. You can see him get visibly uncomfortable when his Blends act overly obsessed with him. And guess what? Murphy gives them all credit for getting the power working. Not once does he claim that all the good things they have is because of him and him alone.
A sense of entitlement: Sometimes. But I’d say considering the shit he’s been through, it’s not unreasonable.
Exploitation of others: Yeah, he does do this.
Lack of empathy: Whoo boy, you’d have to have not been watching the show to think this. Murphy, despite his outward behavior, gets attached to people so fast. It only took one card game with Doc for Murphy to call him his friend, and to feel devastated when he thought Doc had been blown up. He has full empathy for Zs, and just because they’re dead doesn’t mean it doesn’t count. Especially when we know from both Murphy and Lucy that they do still feel things. Murphy and Lucy’s storyline as a whole disproves this one.
Envy of others/Thinking one is envied: No, we don’t see any evidence of this.
Arrogant and haughty behavior: Yeah, he does this too.
So, 2 out of 9 symptoms. Murphy’s not a narcissist. Case closed on that one.
Now, back to my main points. So we have Murphy creating a beautiful room for Lucy, intending to find her and bring her back to raise her properly. Warren tells Doc and Addy to get to Lucy first, so she can be the new cure. Because it’s totally fine to experiment on babies. And yeah, we know now that Sun Mei would have likely only taken a little bit of blood, but we didn’t then, and neither did Warren & Co. And even still, it’s experimenting on a baby. Truly, Warren was the hero of season 3 and Murphy was pure evil.
Luckily in seasons 4 and 5, Murphy is treated a lot better. Well, mostly the end of season 4 and season 5 in general. The way things are framed, it seems like Murphy doesn’t care about anyone not on Zona, but it’s crucial to remember that 1) He was told everyone was dead and 2) it’s been 2 years for him. And then when he’s reunited with Lucy she snubs him and hangs around with Warren, who acts all pleased about it. It’s not like Murphy loved Lucy more than anyone, even himself, and had tried so hard to get her back, thought she was dead, and just wants a chance to be a dad. And, because Murphy hasn’t suffered enough, Warren’s sense of self-importance about her mission to “stop” Black Rainbow got Lucy killed. Just saying, if they’d just gone to Newmerica, Lucy might have lived.
Also, how can your heart not break even a little when, at the camp, Doc gives Murphy a hug and Murphy says “At least there’s one person who’s happy to see me”? Like?
The last time we get Murphy being treated super unfairly is by Addy in season 5. Like, yes, Addy traveled with Lucy and cared about her, but Murphy was her father and might have been able to raise her if Doc and Addy hadn’t gone to kidnap her first. But she just has to get in a dig at Murphy not being around for Lucy. Like he totally would have had he not been abducted by Zona.
As long as this post is, I hope those that read it can see my point. Murphy is not perfect, but the way he’s treated is vastly out of proportion to what he’s done. He definitely deserves more sympathy than he’s given. If we’re ever given a season 6, I hope he’s treated a lot better.
If people would like to talk about this, whether you agree or not, please do. But also please be nice about it. I’m all for respectful discussions.
#z nation#alvin murphy#my thoughts#my opinions#I feel a lot better now that I've gotten this all written down#lol#this isn't to say any of the other characters' traumas aren't important#but that murphy's seem to be looked over a lot#at least from what I've seen
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Needing to vent-
Saying I miss you seems like an understatement.
You filled a void in my soul the day I met you.
We couldn’t handle our emotions. And three years after our divorce, we both accepted and forgave each other for our wrongdoings. I am ever so grateful for that.
We finally had our child. We had wanted one so bad before. When we were married, we had a two bedroom apartment. Spent thousands on fertility supplements. But it never happened. Caused a lot of problems. Then this time around, we finally had a son. Which, biologically, he wasn’t yours, but he was your’s nonetheless. His biological father started talking about violence and I don’t want to go into details, but I felt my son and I were not safe. I was about 3 months pregnant when you and I started talking again. I saw you on the dating site and those butterflies I felt several years ago started fluttering in my stomach again. You were the only one that’s ever had that long lasting effect on me. I hit like on your profile and you messaged me. I thought you’d be hateful. But you weren’t. We met at the place we got married and talked and everything was like we had just left off, minus the toxic parts. You said you wanted to be there for him and I. I was living with my mom and stepdad. You’d come over, we’d go out shopping or just hang out in the living room. You’d pick out clothes for our son and was so excited. You would kiss my belly every night and tell our son how much you loved him. You took my fur daughter and I to the beach. And we went to a science museum and talked about how we’d take our son there and Disney world when he got older.
Then your dad passed away. You were hurting so much. I didn’t know what to do, but hug you. You kept blaming yourself, although it wasn’t your fault. You were stressed about some other family matters. Your dad left you money to fall back on to get us a house, and take care of your mom, but you needed your dad.
Then came the day our son was born. You were there. Not in the room, and I regret that. I just allowed my mom in the delivery room because I didn’t want to become hateful with you. If I could turn back time, you’d definitely be in the room. You were so proud of him. You talked a lot to my dad while you waited. He told me about conversations y’all had. How good of a “kid you were.” When we got back to my mom and stepdad’s house, my dog was limping. At first the vet said arthritis due to her age. Then arthritis again after an X-ray. The third vet, a day less than two weeks later, found the tumor that was cancerous. By that time, it was too late. I miss her so much. You held me in the parking lot of the vets office as I screamed. I need you now.
You were so proud of our son. Our first thanksgiving, you wanted to show him off to everybody. Christmas, the same thing. You talked about how excited you were for him to play sports and that he was going to be a Steelers fan. We made plans for a trip to Panama. You told me you ordered me a ring. Of course, now I realize that you were going to some how propose on the beach the week of our first wedding anniversary. I feel dumb because you hinted around and my therapist pointed it out a couple months later.
We signed him up for modeling auditions too. In February, we took him to Nashville for his first audition. We got a hotel, and had a lot of fun. We took our son on a carousel for the first time, although he cried. We used grub hub for the first time and ordered chipotle from our hotel. We had a lot of fun.
That was February 1st and 2nd. You got your hair cut a week later, and I mentioned I’d like to get mine dyed. You gave me the money to get it done, but you went with me and when they finished, you paid for it with your card. You spoiled me. A lot. We were going to look at a house in town that had 4 bedrooms and a decent yard. You had been fighting a cold for the past month. Coughing really bad. It was winter. I didn’t think nothing of it. The urgent care said everything looked clear. Just a cold.
One night, I was exhausted. It was 2am. Earlier that day, you said your leg was swollen. You said you just needed to walk some. Our son finally fell asleep, and you texted me that you felt horrible. I asked what was wrong, and if you were ok. You said your leg cramped up really bad and you called your brother crying. I don’t understand why you felt horrible for calling him. My brain wasn’t working and I dozed off. My son and I usually sleep about 10 hours. He’d wake up throughout the night and squiggle by me to nurse. I woke up at 9:40ish. I felt weird. I read your texts and you said you didn’t sleep. You asked if I was mad at you. You went to Walmart then went to work. You said you were burning up and out of breath. Then your texts went back to normal day at work texts. I thought maybe you were feeling better. I didn’t realize the last text message was at 6am. You usually text me once an hour because you had a mostly sedentary job and you’d get bored. I text you good morning handsome like I always did. And asked if you were feeling better. I was wondering why I woke up early, I thought maybe I was just hungry so I got our son, and went to the kitchen and got a cheese stick. I went to lay back down and you started calling my phone. I thought you were finally going to the ER. I answered, “hello handsome.” “Nick’s dead.”
It was your brother. I guess I can see why he didn’t speak to me after that. All I could do was scream no over and over. And I screamed for my mom. He hung up.
I went to your aunts house. They suspected a pulmonary embolism. Although, the autopsy said massive heart attack. I obsessively researched pulmonary embolisms and blood clots. If I wasn’t dumb, you might still be alive. We’d have our own place and we’d be married again. My son would have his daddy. I’d have my husband. We wouldn’t be struggling, I wouldn’t be grieving and crying everyday wishing you were here. I’d do anything for a big hug from you. Anything. I wish I could go back. Why didn’t you go to the hospital?
When I was on my way home from your aunts, I heard one of our songs on the radio. Which never played on the radio before and was 2010 (sleeping with sirens). I know that was you. When we got home, there was a package in the door. It was the Valentine’s Day gift you said you had ordered as a surprise. It was beautiful. A bear covered in foam roses because you knew I didn’t like how real roses would die. You died. And your funeral was on Valentine’s Day. I didn’t eat for 6 days. Would have been longer, but my mom said she’d take my son and I to the beach like you and I had planned, if I ate something. She lied.
I went to your aunts house for Easter. Your brother wouldn’t even acknowledge me or my son. That hurt a lot. I visited your mom on Halloween. We were late to the party, but I tried and I didn’t know it was earlier that day. I was going to go to your aunts on thanksgiving this year, but I didn’t feel like they wanted me around and plus, it just hurt too much. Our son and I were the only ones at the dinner table. It hurt. It was lonely.
I heard your brother got a house. And a new truck. Good for him.
Our son and I? We got the splash mat you ordered for the beach trip, and a brand new with tags shirt of yours that you got on the beach trip before our son was born. That was it. It didn’t smell like you at all. Your brother donated the rest of your clothes to a nursing home. I spent every day with you, and I was ignored. We planned a life together. I was ignored. I feel like they were acting like it didn’t matter, when you and our son were everything to me. I never got the ring you said you had put up in your trailer. You wanted to give it to me before, but you also wanted to do it in a special way. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere, that I can wait. It’s a material thing and not you, but if I had it, I never would have taken it off. Our son and I are still living with my mom and stepdad. I can’t work. I can’t deal with people and I was like that before, but it’s worse now.
I don’t know what I did to deserve all this.... but I know you didn’t want to leave us like this. You were going to college and was going into marketing. You were so smart. We had made so many plans. I miss you. I miss seeing your blue Dodge Avenger pull up in the driveway. I miss you singing along to your favorite songs and showing me new music. I miss you getting excited about music. I miss holding your hand. I miss kissing you. I miss your laugh. I miss your smile. I miss the way your beard smelled. I miss playing with your hair. I miss running my fingers through it and just outlining your face with my fingers. How perfect you were for me. And how perfect our little family was for me. And now you’re just gone. Everything I ever wanted with who I wanted. February 12th. You were 31. Our son needs his daddy. I need my husband. If it weren’t for him, I’d have gone with you. But he also needs his mommy. So, I have to grit my teeth, and push the corners of my mouth into a smile. I have to stay strong for him. I know you’d want me to. And I’m trying my best. I love you so much.
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Yet another Tag Time !
Tagged by @sexy-salmon ! Thanks, fellow space frog enthusiast :D
RULES: answer 30 questions and tag 10 blogs you are contractually obligated to know
I won't tag 10 blogs because I don't know that many people. But I still tag @natsora, @illusivesoul and @betacarotene-e160a ! As always, feel free to take it or leave it o/
Nicknames: Merween is my most common username across the internet since I'm like, 12. Otherwise I guess I have this friend who makes fun of my particle name and reverses name and last name, but I'm nnnnot sure it counts.
Gender/pronouns: She/Her
Star sign: Taurus
Height: 5′3 (I think, because as the mere european person I am, I don't get this metric system xD)
Time: 14.55 CET
Birthday: May 12th
Favorite bands: I am so bad with that type of questions. Favorite relative to what ? xD I kind of rediscovered Deftones recently and I really like their universe. I adore The National for one single song that wrecks me endlessly. None of them are actually favorites, I'm only buying time here.
Favorite solo artist: I don't know what to say I'm sorry. T_T
Song stuck in your head: Survivor, from Kung Fury. (Gonna need some gonna need some ACTION !!!!)
Last movie you watched?: Die Hard. I've never seen it before, and it was good fun !
Last show?: I vaguely started The Wire, but circunstances had kept me from watching the first episode in full lenght, so I really don't know if that counts. Else it would still be The Handmaid's Tale
Why did you create your blog?: Because I was tired of being the only Mass Effect nerd in my immediate entourage, I wanted to talk about my ongoing fanfiction project Halfway Home, I wanted to share drawings, and dang I wanted to finally dare saying something on tumblr because the platform is intriguing to me.
What do you post?: Mass Effect drawings mostly -specifically drawings related to Halfway Home, a lot of tags recently, and I reblog cool fanart -extra points if it features salarians. I really should post more things, but I'm not sure what would interest people ? Feel free to tell me !
Last thing you googled?: Rotta the Hutling. Because did you know that canonically, Jabba the Hutt had a weirdly cute son that look desperate to hug you ? LOOK AT HIM ! He became my profile pic pretty much everywhere, that dodgy slug baby thing.
Other blogs: I share a devblog on the indie game I'm working on with my team, and I plan to launch a less-specific blog for when I'll start seriously talking about narrative design and very probably launch a Youtube channel buuut-
AO3: MerweenTheWitch I think it is ?
Do you get asks?: I'm not sure I even received one ? Maybe one, at the very beginning of this blog's lifespan.xD I never actively encouraged it though, which is too bad because they look fun !
How did you get the idea for your URL?: halfwayhome was taken, halfway_home was taken, pretty much everything related to the fic's title was out of reach. So I decided to find something else to represent both salarians, an idea of confrontation and the edgy grungey tone of the story, so Raw Liver and Cigarettes was pretty much it.
Followers: 46 best persons in the entire world in my very humbled objectivity (no but really, you are all so precious to me)
I follow: 46 people also ! The odds of that !
Average hours of sleep: Anywhere between 0 to like, 16, because my sleep patterns are broken !! But I tend to orbit around 4 when I have life obligations.
Lucky number: 14 I'd say ?
Instruments: Keyboard -I suck, I mostly use it as a device to compose and arrange music-, I sing, I can blow into a flute and make sound somewhat ?? Also I used to play the accordion, which is desperately french.
What are you wearing?: A grey/black shirt with two many straps, a pair of torn jeans but not in a cool torn way, more like I have not bought a pair of pants since little less than a decade, and a peignoir. Yay for working from home.
Dream job: Narrative game designer. Even better if I work on my own games. Even better if I end up mAKING MONEY TO LIKE SURVIVE and not starve or be too cold to move. Right now I'm achieving two of those three goals, which to be fair is 2/3 of the whole package so I'm still reasonnably thrilled.
(actually my dream job would be absolute unlimited possibilities to work on any support of project (mostly creative, but I enjoy science as well), of any scale, with any timeframe -it's highly implausible, but it's where my heart truly lies)
Dream trip: Somewhere north, where I can be alone and watch auroras. Or, to get really fancy, I guess space is both unattainable and very tempting as once.
Favorite food: I think mochis are way up -most of japanese cooking in general. But again, I really enjoy watermelon and gnocchis, and I'm so bad at making favorites, I don't get how that works.
Significant other?: Nope, which is hardly a big deal to my work-obsessed ace-ish butt.
Last book I read: « Drawing Blood » by Molly Crabapple. It's non-fiction autobiography dealing with politics between 2008 to 2013 in the US, arts and the author's journey with technique and meaning, the entertwinment between economical elite and artists, sex workers and performers... It's a baroque punch in the guts. As depressing as it is inspiring. I adored this book, and I truly needed to read it.
Top 3 fictional universes: Hard question, but. I'd say Mass Effect, The Elder Scrolls, and mh. I waver between a lot of them. But I think I'll go with Tolkien universe. This is not as much a top as a list of fictionnal universes I truly enjoyed. Again, me and faves xD
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Playlist meme...??? or is it???
Rules: we’re snooping on your playlist. Set your entire playlist on shuffle and report the first 10 tracks that pop up and then choose 10 friends.
I was tagged by @daniellesdarrieux . HEART EYES.
I didn’t really feel like doing this so instead I give you my End of the Year Top Ten Lip products list. Enjoy!
10) Rimmel, Show offs matte lipstick in greige. They discontinued the formula. The fuckers! I’m using the last of this sparingly while I cry about it.
9) Alba Lip gloss: This has been the year of over-priced, sparkly, obnoxiously sweet smelling lip glosses and I’m kinda over them. This one is from the drugstore, it comes in a tube so you can just squeeze it out and dab it on without destroying your lipstick and it smells faintly of coconuts. It doesn’t feel heavy on the lips and it’s not super sticky.
8) Bioderm Sensibio lip balm. Look at me I’ve got lip balm from France. And it’s only $5. And it doesn’t smell like mint or roses or any of the other scents that I’m quasi allergic to. It is super hydrating, plain lip balm. I swab it on before bed and first thing in the a.m. so that it soaks in before I put on my lipstick. My lips are living again.
7) Liipstick Queen, Jungle Queen. This replaced my beloved NYX butter in fireball. Great color, great formula but shitty, shitty packaging. It came open in my purse. Thank god the lining of my purse is that exact same hot orange color. (Thank you @idlesuperstar). Then I discovered Lipstick Queen and now I have this gorgeous green metal tube that stays tightly shut. The shade is a perfect hot coral color for summer and the formula is smooth, creamy and opaque. This is the exact shade Norma Desmond would have worn sitting by the pool with her toy boy in Sunset Boulevard. It matches Leopard print and sunglasses perfectly. TDF.
6) Lipstick Queen Cupid’s Bow in Desire. I really got into the whole Nudestix trend. I bought a bunch of them. I loved that they worked on the lip and the cheek. I loved the fucking tins and the sharpeners. The only problem was the lipsticks were kind of shit actually. Like they have ZERO staying power. They should just have called every shade WHY BOTHER. Also they were mint scented. UGH. WHY??? Enter Lipstick Queen Cupid’s Bow. It looks and acts just like a nudestix lippie. You can use it on the lip or cheek. It can be used as a liner or on its own. It has a mild vanilla scent. No tin, but you get a really good sharpener. And guess what? It actually lasts more than 15 minutes. HOO. RAY. (PS you can get them on amazon for like $12 which is about half of what a nudestix costs). I am love.
5) Jeffree Star liquid lip in No Tea No Shade: I confess I bought this lipstick because of the shade name and because of the packaging. I love the chunky pink plastic feel of it, like Hello Kitty or Barbie but feels seriously heavy and expensive in the hand. The formula is really good. It is the only lip product that can survive eating and drinking for me. The shade is beautiful. Not super wearable for every day, but fuck it, sometimes you need to wear a deep maroon with gold flecks. And OK I bought this before I know JS was racist trash. I’m not sure I’ll ever buy another lipstick from him because even though I love this, because I just don’t want to support him.
4) Winkylux Creamy Dreamies in lip silk and milk shake. This has been the year of Winkylux for me. I have seriously bought like every fucking thing they sell. Their price point hits the sweet spot between drugstore and luxury and they always have sales and coupons and deals. I’ve been getting their lipsticks for around $12 a piece which is just about Revlon territory. The creamy dreamies is a good classic cream formula, blottable, buildable and really smooth and nourishing. Milk shake is a gorgeous, bright, every day red and lip silk is completely sheer and works as a wonderful base for matte lipsticks.
3) Lipstick Queen Red Carpet Lipstick in velvet rope: OK, I have to tell you guys a story. When I was a kid my mom’s gay friend Todd went to New York in the last days of disco and he bought my mom a Halston lipstick at Barneys. It had a gold metal tube that looked like an art deco sculpture. She wore every last particle of that lipstick, making it last through the Reagan administration. So that is the lipstick by which all others are judged and this Lipstick Queen is probably the closest I’ll come to the Halston. Just pulling it out of your purse is a fucking event. The color is exactly like a velvet rope, a deep, dark red. It lasts better and is way more comfy if I wear it over a Cupid’s Bow. This is a fifty dollar lipstick but I got it on Amazon for like $28 or something. Still spendy but not so horrific.
2) Fenty Beauty in Sci-fly. OMG this lipstick is amazing. I’m so in love with it. I’ve only had it a month, otherwise, it might top the list. The color is a gorgeous sheer, berry purple with flecks of glitter. It feels gritty in the tube but goes on pretty smooth. It’s a skinny bullet so you can always get a good shape, but unlike most skinny bullets it’s not got MOM’S LIPSTICK written all over it, because it’s fucking FENTY. The packaging is amazing and light and remarkably secure. I love carrying this in my purse. It’s unscented which is so great and I fucking LOVE the formula. It lasts. A sheer lipstick that lasts! Especially over a lip liner, this will stay on me for like five hours. AMAZE BALLS. Rihanna's makeup is not just celebrity BS. It’s real. I wish I had the $$ to buy the whole damn line.
1)Winky Lux Whipped Matte lippies. I started out the year with one of these, a brown-leaning nude, called Meow. I loved it so much I got another. And another. Annnnnd another. Then I got the mini pills kit. The Winky Lux lipsticks are shaped like pills. They are super cute. The packaging is secure and even the minis give you a ton of product for the size. I love how compact these are while still being cute and usable. The formula is really good. They last 5ever, are super saturated and opaque but they don’t dry out my lips, especially if I use them with the Creamy Dreamy Lip Silk. These have replaced all the cheap drugstore matte lippies that I used to wear on the daily. Those just destroyed my lips over time. They also went off pretty fast so you had to use them quickly. I’m finding that is the case with the Winky as well and my Meow has started to smell a bit iffy after about 9 months or so, which is tragic. Still I will probably repurchase because it’s such a great color and because I did get most of the way through the tube.
#dreaming of lipstick#sorry#@danniels#I failed at the playlist#but this was in my head and I wanted to share...
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I have been tagged on a massive thing.
Massive Ask
The Last:
1. Drink: Water
2. Phone call: Grandma
3. Text: I don’t have a cellphone
4. Song you listened to: Daft Punk ft. Julian Casablancas - Instant Crush
5. Time you cried: Yesterday
Have You:
6. Dated someone twice: Nope
7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yes
8. Been cheated on: Can’t confirm, suspect so.
9. Lost someone special: Yes
10. Been depressed: Manic Depression Diagnosis in grade 7, inclined to keep agreeing.
11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Drunk, yes. Blargh? No.
List 3 Favorite Colors
12. Mauve
13. Lilac
14. Wine Red/Burgundy
In the last year, have you…
15. Made new friends: Yes
16. Fallen out of love: Nope
17. Laughed until you cried: Yes
18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yes. Sometimes good, sometimes not.
19. Met someone who changed you: In a good way for once, yes.
20. Found out who your friends are: No. I suspect that’s still upcoming though in one instance. I still suspect there are things going unsaid.
21. Kissed someone on your FB list: My husband is FB friends so yyyyes.
GENERAL:
22. How many Facebook friends do you know in real life: Sssseven
23. Do you have any pets: 1 fat old cat, Cookie
24. Do you want to change your name: Somedays, yeah.
25. What did you do for your last birthday: Cried :D
26. What time did you wake up: 7am
27. What were you doing at midnight last night: SLEEPING for once.
28. Name something you can’t wait for: CLONELORD CLONELORD CLONELORD CLONELORD. Also for my giant package of vampire books.
29. When was the last time you saw your Mom: Yesterday
30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I was in Aus right now.
31. What are you listening to right now: Maroon 5 - One More Night
32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I don’t think so
33. Something that is getting on your nerves: Headphone cables tangling and knocking things over when I stand up. Loud tooth-clacking chewing.
34. Most visited website: Tumblr and Youtube.
35. Mole/s: I have a mole on my arm and one on my side
36. Mark/s: I’ve stepped on a pencil on two separate occasions and ‘tattooed’ myself :I
37. Childhood dream: Paleontologist, weirdly enough before I saw Jurassic Park.
38. Hair color: Brown
39. Long or short hair: I would like to shave my head, but its long for now
40. Do you have a crush on someone?: The husband is the eternal crush
41. What do you like about yourself: Occasionally I am funny. Somedays I don’t doubt that my mutuals like me.
42. Piercings: Just my ears. Wouldn’t mind a few more on them, though.
43. Blood type: I haven’t checked in a long time.
44: Nicknames: Scum, back in the weeaboo days I was Saru
45. Relationship status: Engaged
46. Zodiac: Scorpio
47. Pronouns: Female
48. Favorite TV show(s): The River, The IT Crowd, Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace, Bokurano
49. Tattoos: None yet, but I want to have a Chaos Star behind my ear. So I may be a sneaky heretic.
50. Right or left hand: Right
51. Surgery: No surgery yet
52. Hair dyed a different color: I had two framing stripes of purple at the front. I’d like to do it again.
53. Sports: Baseball
54. Vacation: What is question. I have never had a say in where we went for vacation in my life. Cabin I guess, because its quiet.
55. Shoes: I have those, yes.
56. Eating: what is- Nothing right now?
57. Drinking: Also nothing. W-Water. What do you want from me, ask meme.
58. I’m about to: FINISH THIS MEME HOPEFULLY
59. Waiting for: MAIL. MAIL MAIL MAIL. WHERE ARE YOU BOOKS.
60. Want: To trust .-.
61. Get married: Doing, thank u
62. Career: I want a trade. Carpentry/cabnet making seems like it would suit me alright. I’d love to be able to build furniture.
WHICH IS BETTER:
63. Hugs or kisses: Hugs
64. Lips or eyes: Eyes
65. Shorter or taller: I am 5′3″ at best. I do not have a say.
66. Older or younger: Older. I am too tired to deal with the shit that i got myself into when I was young again.
67. Nice arms or nice stomach: Both. Arms are better though.
68. Sensitive or loud: Nnnneither.
69. Hook up or relationship: Relationship
70. Troublemaker or hesitant: I guess Troublemaker, because I am already the hesitant. Then there’d be balance.
HAVE YOU EVER:
71. Kissed a stranger: Never
72. Drank hard liquor: Yes. Regret. I hate the way that stuff tastes lmao.
73. Lost glasses/contact lenses: I’ll have you know I’m a dimensional mage. Sunglasses disappear after they are in contact with me.
74. Turned someone down: Yes
75. Sex on first date: Fuck off, no.
76. Broken someone’s heart: The way he’d tell, probably.
77. Had your heart broken: Yes
78. Been arrested: Nope.
79. Cried when someone died: Yes.
80. Fallen for a friend: Sort of. But not really. I thought I did, it was something else.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN:
81. Yourself: N-no.
82. Miracles: Not in the biblical sense. I believe that Miraculous things can happen. Re: Man sucked into jet engine survives unscathed.
83. Love at first sight: I mean, Technically I didn’t see my husband until the skype call that we told each other we were in love so...I guess
84. Santa Claus: My dad went through the effort of dressing up as santa, sitting sleepy on the couch by some eaten cookies once. That picture had me believing for a long time. He did a good job.
85. Kiss on the first date: Nobody is obligated to dole out physical affection ever. I never did.
OTHER:
86. Current best friend: @vvarhound and I have been through some shit, and dealing/helping each for years. I’d say thats Best friend.
87. Eye color: Hazel/green/brown
88. Favorite movie: Pitch Black, Grave Encounters
#I have been tagged#I DO NOT THINK I WILL TAG ANYONE IN THIS LONG ASS THING#feel free if you want something to do tho
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