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spaceskam · 3 years

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welcome to another "I wrote this at work ignore the typos" situation featuring content in the little teaser for s3

ao3

"Michael Guerin with a cup of tea. Interesting."

"Bettering myself with soothing beverages," Michael said, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at Alex. He still felt a little off kilter, but he had no intention of guilt tripping Alex. It was a work in progress. He was a work in progress.

"Is that a quote from self proclaimed life coach Isobel Evans?" Alex asked, cocking his head to the side and smiling. Michael felt dizzy with it. It'd been so long without that fucking smile.

"How'd you know?" Michael asked, trying to keep the conversation light and not let it drift to an antagonistic place. He was good at that. Unfortunately, he was less good at keeping that at bay. "Where's the boyfriend?" Work in progress.

"He couldn't stick around, had to get to a meeting. He just met me at the bus stop," Alex said. Michael nodded and only then let his eyes drift away from his face, giving him a quick once over and tried not to be greedy with it. He still had his bags. "Is this seat taken?"

"Yeah," Michael said, casual as possible because Alex deserved that, "Saving it for this guy I met a few years back. You might know him. Around my height, dark hair, nice biceps, used to be in the army, killer thighs–literally, I almost suffocated me once."

"Shut up," Alex laughed, sitting across from him, "And I wasn't in the army."

"Same evil."

"Fair enough," Alex said, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, "Man, what's a guy gotta do around here to get a drink?"

Michael absolutely did not get his hopes up about this.

"Just sit there and look pretty," Michael said, pushing himself to his feet.

He'd been working a little harder and getting Sanders to make the place look a bit nicer in the front so new comers would show up, both resulting in everyone making more money. It was the most money Michael had ever had saved up before and he barely knew what to even do with it. He'd never wanted it before, never wanted to act like he was here to stay, but now it was there and now he could pay for Alex's drink.

He allowed himself to feel a little good about himself for that.

He order a medium vanilla latte, extra vanilla and an extra shot of expresso like he'd seen Alex order when they were a younger. Before he was a complete fuck up. Before when ordering anything but black coffee felt rebellious. And he paid for him for the first time. And he absolutely wasn't prideful bringing it back.

The look on Alex's face said he was also aware that this was the first time he could afford to buy him something so trivial, but he wasn't going to say anything because he was Alex. He took a sip as Michael sat across from him again and he smiled with a tiny bit of foam gracing his top lip. Michael felt his chest constricting with some twisted sort of pride and he refused to let himself be embarrassed by it.

"Thank you," Alex said.

"No problem."

Then they lapsed into silence, drinking their respective drinks and staring. Alex never turned his head away like he usually did; Michael never broke the silence like he usually did. None of it was awkward or uncomfortable or tense. It was just... having non-alcoholic drinks with someone he loved in whatever sense of the word he could.

It was nice. It was easy. It was something so completely different than Michael knew what to do with.

He craved more.

"So, do you need a ride to your house so you don't have to walk with all that?" Michael asked, definitely not mentioning that Forrest at the very least could've taken it. Granted, there's a chance he offered and Alex declined, which would be very much like Alex, but still. If he can kiss him, he can help with his bags.

"Depends. Are you willing to drive out to the middle of nowhere?"

"So that was a sold sign," Michael said. Alex took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah. It was a nice house, but it didn't really feel like home, you know? And after everything..."

"No, I get it," Michael said, nodding, "So where are you staying now?"

"Old Valenti hunting cabin. My cut of the inheritance and what I'm getting for selling my house is gonna be used on making it decent," Alex said.

"And amping up the security system," Michael added. Alex grinned and nodded.

"And amping up the security system."

"Well, it's my day off, so I can definitely take you," Michael said, not saying he took the day off specifically to meet Alex. That wasn't necessary information.

"You don't have to."

"What if I want to?" Michael asked. Alex looked at him, still smiling but he was clearly a little wary. "Just let me help out. I'm even going to try to not make you feel bad about the boyfriend."

"Oh, well, thank you so much for your efforts," Alex said sarcastically, but his tone was light and his smile was even more so, "But you really don't mind?"

"Alex, it's the least I can do," Michael said. It sounded weird in his voice, but it felt right. Alex seemed to agree if the look on his face said anything. Michael was more than a little proud of himself for not second guessing himself or assuming the worst.

Maybe he actually did do some growing.

"Okay then. Let's go."

Having Alex in his truck again didn't feel real. He was giddy in a way he hadn't felt in awhile and the fact that his bags were on the floor and not between them made that feeling skyrocket. Alex was comfortable with him. Or, at least, he seemed to be.

"Did you have fun?" Michael asked. Alex huffed a laugh.

"Well, I mean, I was doing dirty work, so not really. Forrest met me a couple times but I never wanted him to stay too long, was way too dangerous," Alex said, turning in his seat to face him.

"When I came out there with Kyle, you let me stay awhile," Michael said. He wasn't bragging. Absolutely not. He was simply useful for the task at hand and Kyle had to get back to work. Them eating take out on a hotel room floor and staying up too late was just convenient, a secret little addition to the trip.

"Yeah, but I trust you not to get killed by accident," Alex said, "Forrest had a good childhood. He's not at all aware of his surroundings like you are."

"Good for him," Michael said, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. Alex may or may not have noticed.

"Also," he said slowly, "I'm kinda getting spoiled with the telekinesis thing, I'm not gonna lie."

Michael bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to be unnecessarily happy with that.

"Well if you ever need to make use of it, I'm your man," Michael said. Alex hummed in response–Michael couldn't tell if it was an acknowledgment or agreement.

It was around a 45 minute drive to the Valenti hunting cabin and the trip there was a bunch of small, winding, hand-made paths. You couldn't find it if you didn't know it was there. It was perfect for Alex.

Michael helped him get his bags inside and took in the fact that most of the stuff that had been in his house wasn't present. The furniture was broken in and there were a few boxes around, but not enough to hold everything from his house.

"I need a change," Alex said, going to the breaker box to turn the electricity on, "I thought that when I came back the first time that would be my big change, but I just did more of the same shit. So this is a real change."

"Sounds like it'd be good for you," Michael agreed.

"Yeah," Alex sighed, looking around. His eyes eventually landed on Michael again. "Do you have to go?"

"No, not unless you want me to," Michael said. Alex nodded.

"Move some boxes for me, telekinesis boy?" he asked. Michael grinned.

"Sure."

The spent what felt like two hours rearranging and unpacking and cleaning, Alex encouraging him to show off in a way that felt so ridiculously good. Everything about this was good. Spending time with him without expectation and tension and time limits.

He loved him more than his body had space for.

"Michael!" Alex said, immediately followed by a laugh, "You're going to break something!"

"I won't, have faith," Michael said, pulsing with the attention, "And if I do, I'll fix it."

He twisted his wrist, manuvering the fully put together bed frame through the door with his mind. It bumped into the door frame once or twice, but Alex just laughed and lightly scolded him.

Later, once they did what they could and got settled, Michael found himself on Alex's back porch with cans of coke in hand instead of beer.

"I love the view," Michael said.

"There's deer that'll get close if you're quiet," Alex said, "You'll have to sit with me to see them sometime."

"Yeah, whenever you'll have me," Michael said.

"Whenever you want," Alex responded. He sounded like he meant it.

Him meaning it didn't stop his phone from lighting up, didn't stop the way Alex's face closed off, didn't stop the way he sighed and locked it back. He took a long sip of his drink before he spoke.

"Forrest is on his way," Alex said. Michael shifted in his seat and nodded.

"So I should go."

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Alex asked instead of saying leave, instead of saying stay.

"Yep, bright and early."

"Okay," Alex said, "If I bring my truck up there in the morning, do I get privileges where I can sit with you in the back while you look over it and tell me what I need to fix after it sitting in my yard for nine months?"

Michael swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. He was leaving, he had to go because it wasn't his place to stay right now. But there was a promise of tomorrow. Of spending more time together just because.

The privilege of it, Alex said.

"Absolutely," Michael said, standing up, "I'll squeeze you in."

"Cool. I appreciate it," Alex said, looking up at him with a smile, "And I appreciate you helping me out today. Made all of that a lot easier."

"Not a problem," he said, "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Wait," Alex said quickly, getting himself to his feet and coming closer. Without much of a warning about what exactly was coming, Alex wrapped his arms around his neck. Michael hugged him back easily.

Alex squeezed him; Michael squeezed back.

"I'm so glad you're back," Michael whispered against him.

"I've gotta come home at some point, right?" Alex whispered back. Michael nodded.

They held on for longer than they should.

"Alright," Alex said after awhile, letting go with a reluctance Michael wasn't so unfamiliar with it ached, "I'll see you in the morning. I'll bring food."

Michael didn't like to get his hopes up.

He decided not to be scared this time.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

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The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader. The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think. Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms. Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out. Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift. But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters. As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent. It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills.

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off. Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed. “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.” I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space. It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures. Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together. Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting. She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief. Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order. First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix. Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space.

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels. Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone. “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component. The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is. Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily. Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something. I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion. The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom. Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it. Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

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cutting down the family tree

@buckleydiazs said:

High school au where Buck’s the sad lonely kid with the shit family and Eddie’s the popular captain of the wrestling team who makes it his personal mission to make Buck an honorary Diaz and convince him that he deserves nice things I am just saying

WOW this got a lot longer than I thought, so I abandoned the ask and put everything all up in here. Only barely edited, SORRY LMAO.

8.5k, Buddie HS AU. underage-ish if you squint I guess? tw for abuse.

Buck was good at going unseen.

It was a defense mechanism—his parent’s couldn’t get upset with what they didn’t realize was there—and it had only amped up once Maddie graduated. Once she went off to college, Buck had no reason to be a distraction anymore, to try and pull attention off of anyone; so he just got better at it. He could pick things up and set them down without a sound. He constantly walked on the balls of his feet. He even kept his breathing even, slow and low, whenever he wasn’t alone.

At home, Buck had gotten really good at—nay, he had perfected—the art of becoming invisible. So it only made sense that it translated to his school life, as well.

He got good grades—straight A’s—but only high enough to keep his grades at a 4.0, not high enough to earn Valedictorian, no AP classes, no crying over tests. Enough to ensure he would have opportunities after high school, but not enough to bring any student or teacher attention his way.

He worked out every day, and had for years, years of defending himself or defending Maddie meant he had to be in the best shape he could be in—but while his body was packed with lean muscle and quick reflexes, he drowned himself in clothes that were a size too big, making him look smaller, unassuming. He kept his posture slouched whenever he wasn’t standing to take a few inches off of his height, to the point that he could get lost in a crowd while you were still looking at him.

He didn’t participate in after school activities. He didn’t run for school president. He didn’t have a flashy car, a high status girlfriend, he didn’t show any interests that might make him friends or enemies.

Buck was invisible to absolutely everyone.

Well... everyone except Eddie Diaz.

Eddie Diaz, who was a senior, like Buck was, but was new to Pennsylvania, moving over the summer — who was 18, a year older than Buck, because he was held back in the third grade for fighting — Eddie Diaz, who had joined the wrestling team and made captain in an embarrassingly short amount of time (well, embarrassing for the rest of the team).

Why did Buck know all of this?

Because this was also Eddie Diaz, who, on the first day of Senior Year, locked on to Buck with laser-like focus, ignored all of Buck’s defenses, and apparently decided to take him on as a new friend pet project.

And much to Buck’s annoyance, he just couldn’t. Shake. Eddie. Off.

He definitely tried. He changed his walkways, he changed the bathrooms he used, he changed where he parked, he did everything except change his schedule—and Eddie was still there, keeping up mostly one sided conversations. The only time he had to himself any more was his free period, the time he spent in the school weight room, and never before had be been so thankful for that regular moment of peace.

Buck finally hit his limit one lunch period, spent huddling in the library, when Eddie sat down across from him. "Eddie, isn’t there someone who actually wants to have lunch with you? Some of your friends, or teammates, or someone who isn’t me?” Buck had asked, barely looking up from the text book he had been reading—he wasn’t a fan of the ‘mean’ route, but he was at his wits end. When Eddie paused, Buck actually felt hope rise up in his chest, that he would be alone again.

But Eddie had just leaned forward, made eye contact, and said “Nope.” with the biggest, shit eating grin Buck had ever seen.

Fine. It was less than a year. Buck could handle Eddie being around him for less than a year.

Buck could not handle less than a year.

Because Eddie, Eddie was nice. To him. To Buck, who had never said more than ten words to any other student since the day he started high school. Eddie was nice to him, and it was going to kill him.

It was going to kill Buck because he found himself wanting to be nice back.

Not that Buck was a mean person, because he wasn’t, but niceness was followed by friendship, and friendship was followed by attachment, and that was simply unacceptable as far as Buck was concerned.

... not that he hadn’t wondered, of course. He had always wondered what it would be like, to be able to hang out with friends, to have people come over to his house for his birthday, to have more contacts in his cell phone than the front desk of the gym near his house, his parents, and Maddie.

He had wondered, sure, but he had never missed it. He had never craved it. He knew it was more important for him to be on his own, at least for the time being—an attachment would make it that much harder to get as far from the east coast as possible when time came for college, and that was unacceptable.

But...

As he pulled in the parking lot, to a familiar spot near the back of the school, and saw Eddie waiting there for him so they could walk in to class together...

Alright, so he wanted it. So sue him.

“Buckaroo!”

Well, that was a good way to make him want it a little less, at least.

“Eddie, I’ve told you,” Buck said with an exasperated sigh, locking his car behind him. “It’s just Buck.”

(Eddie had called him Evan once. Just once. Once the blind panic had subsided, Buck had put a stop to that, real quick.)

“And I’ve told you,” Eddie said in a sing-song voice, “it’s a nickname. Nicknames are what friends do, remember?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Friends. Is that what they were? He rolled his eyes and shouldered his bag instead of thinking about it too deeply, but he couldn’t deny the spike of anxiety that rippled through him as Eddie started to ramble, falling back into the easy habit of talking for the both of them. He didn’t want friends. He just wanted to get out.

“...and so I told him...”

Besides, it wasn’t like Eddie actually considered him a friend. They had barely spoken—well, Buck had barely spoken anyway. There was no way in hell that Eddie actually cared about him, right? He had to have some secondary motive.

"and after that, she...”

But that was frustrating in and of itself. Buck had been so sure that Eddie was up to something, or had some ulterior motive, or but damn it if Buck hadn’t been able to determine what it was. None of Eddie’s little douchebaggy wrestling friends had approached them, Eddie hadn’t even tried to get Buck out of his comfort zone yet, he hadn't done anything, and somehow, that was even more frustrating.

“...just because Ms. Syzmaski’s a wrinkled old bitch.”

Buck let out a laugh, in spite of himself, as Eddie rambled on, shaking his head. Ms. Syzmaski wasn’t that bad, and—oh.

He covered his mouth as soon as he realized what he had done. He didn’t think he had laughed at all since Maddie left, and to have one pulled out of him so suddenly was a little surprising, to say the least—but as he turned to Eddie, beet red, he could tell that he wasn’t the only one surprised.

The look that Eddie was giving him, however, was the closest thing to “starry eyed” that Buck had ever seen.

“I, uh, I have to get to class. Bye Eddie.” Buck blurted as he turned and booked it down the hall, not quiet quick enough to miss the smile and the incredibly soft “Bye, Buck” that followed him.

Things only got worse as more time went on.

Better?

No, worse. Definitely worse.

Because Eddie could make him laugh, and the more time he spent with him, and the more he actually listened, the more likely those moments were. He was nice, too nice, on the rare occasion that Buck actually had lunch in the lunch room instead of hiding in a stairwell or the library, Eddie said goodbye to his friends and joined him kind of nice. The kind of nice that worked its way past Buck’s defenses, instead of breaking them down.

The kind of nice that made Buck actually want to open up, which, as he would never forget, was a dangerous kind of nice.

It was also, as he learned too late, the kind of nice that made him fucking cave in way too easily to Eddie’s whining.

“Come on, Buck,” he had begged. “I’m going to be failing Chemistry if I don’t get a B on the midterm, and if I fail chemistry, I get booted from the team. You have to help me.”

And like a sap, Buck had sighed in agreement, giving up a Friday night doing nothing to help the intellectually infirm (“Hey!”).

Wincing as he touched up the concealer on his cheek, Buck dragged his backpack out of the passengers seat of his car, giving an appreciative look up to the small, ranch style house that spread out before him. It probably said a lot about his own expectations if he already felt more comfortable in front of a row of little ranch houses than he would in front of his own house, but… well, that was just it. His house was a big, gaudy house in a neighborhood full of big, gaudy houses. But everything about where he was now—the sound of a dog barking, the smell of someone cooking on the grill, the fact that you didn’t need to ask anyone to buzz you in to a front yard—screamed home.

He didn’t think anything could spoil how light he felt—and that was certainly proven true as Eddie opened the door before Buck even had a chance to knock.

“Hey Buck, thanks again, you… uh, wow. You look, uh, great.”

It was a small surprise, but a nice one. He had ditched his regular, baggy, hiding-in-plain-sight clothes for a simple pair of jeans and a polo shirt, casual but comfortable, and he tried to ignore the smile tugging at his lips even as his face heated up.

“I mean, it’s nothing special, it’s just jeans and a—“

“Eddie! Bring your friend inside and close the door!”

It didn’t matter how he had tried to prepare himself, there was something about a parent yelling that would probably always cause Buck to tense up, and tense up he did. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t say anything, thankfully, just hooked his elbow in Buck’ as he yelled right back. “His name is Buck, Mama, I told you that!”

He tried to get his heart to calm down as he felt Eddie tug him to the doorway, his free hand clinging to his backpack strap for dear life, bracing himself as he walked into…

…something that could not have been more polar opposite of his own life if it tried.

Eddie’s house was smaller, sure, but it was homey in a way that Buck had only imagined or seen in Hallmark movies. He was all smiles as Eddie introduced him to both of his parents (he knew how important first impressions were, had had that beaten in to him from a very young age), but he found that it wasn’t fake—he was genuinely glad to be there. Even if it still threw him for a loop when Eddie’s mother had insisted on being called Helena, had shoved a tray of snacks into Eddie’s arms, and sent them to Eddie’s room to study.

“Go on, we’ll let you know when dinner is ready. Get your studying done.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“And leave the door open!”

“Mama!”

Buck was only mildly placated by the fact that Eddie was blushing as brightly as he was.

Any concerns that Eddie wouldn’t be taking this seriously, or was just looking for a reason to hang out and fuck around, were quickly put to rest as Eddie pulled out his chemistry book. It was comforting to know that Eddie was just as serious about his grades as he acted, and it made things a lot easier—when Buck didn’t have to spend half of his time telling Eddie to pay attention or to focus, as he had feared, things moved at a pace he hadn’t anticipated.

Eddie was incredibly smart. That much was obvious from the get go. Chemistry just didn’t click with him, but that was easy enough to rectify—he just had to help Eddie see things from a different angle, to focus more on the process than the end result, and “seriously Eddie, would it kill you to take a legible note for once in your life?”

Buck had set to work on transcribing some of Eddie’s rushed notes into a legible format while Eddie continued to work on a few practice problems, and before Buck knew it several hours had gone by and they were both being called down for dinner, and… look, Buck had a live in cook for most of his life, but damn if Helena’s enchiladas didn’t blow them out of the water.

He found himself drawn into the family dynamics easily—Eddie had introduced him to his sister, Sophia, explaining that Adriana was out for the night, and they talked, bickered, poked fun, everything that Buck had figured was out of his reach for the longest time. He spoke when he was asked questions, and let himself engage in a few conversations, but more than anything, he just sat and ate and soaked up the delicious atmosphere.

Was this what a family really felt like? He didn’t think he had ever felt like this at home, even before Maddie had graduated, even before his father had started drinking. He felt something white hot burn in his chest as the night dragged on—not jealousy, or envy, something more dangerous, want. It seemed like a cruel joke, that someone so close to him got to have it all, while he had… nothing, but as he looked over at Eddie, his head thrown back in laughter at one of his mothers jokes until Sophia flicked a piece of corn into his open mouth and he sputtered, he wouldn’t wish the reverse on even his worst enemy.

The good part about Pennsylvania was that it didn’t matter what time of the year it was, it was usually cold. Cold meant long sleeves and sweaters to cover the arms, and long pants to cover the legs, especially as the sticky feeling of Summer turned to foggy breaths and dew, and Buck could breathe a little easier.

Just a little easier, though, because when you were tugging your hoodie down over your head to cover a black eye, you couldn’t relax. Not really.

He was usually so careful. He was usually so good about covering his bruises (hell, he was usually good at getting bruises anywhere other than his face), but the last time he had touched himself up, he had forgotten to cap the concealer and the entire tube had run dry. He was sloppy. He had been reckless and stupid and sloppy and now he was paying the price; because as confident as he would have been a semester ago about getting through the day with a shiner and no one noticing, the day now included Eddie.

He didn’t know if he could avoid Eddie for an entire day. What was worse, he didn’t know if he wanted to.

The day had started off pretty well. He took the train to school instead of driving so Eddie wouldn’t see his car. He was barely on time to each and every class to avoid Eddie in the halls. He ignored every text that came in—though he did allow himself a grin when Eddie sent him a picture message of his Chemistry test, a big 91 circled on the front of it. He even managed to find a new place to eat his lunch, one he was sure that Eddie wouldn’t know about.

And then everything had gone to shit.

He had finished his History midterm early, turned it in with his head down, and walked out of the classroom. His next period was his free one, so he decided to head to the gym early, taking a quick stop in the locker room to change into a baggy, long sleeved shirt, chucking his hoodie and his backpack in a locker before getting to the gym. There was only one other person in the room, back turned to Buck as he walked in—it was as good as it could get, and he sent a silent prayer up to anyone who was listening in thanks.

It was going to be a cardio day, Buck could tell—his right wrist was a little sore, and his shoulder too, and while thankfully neither of them felt dislocated it definitely wouldn’t be a good idea to try to lift weights. He could feel the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he started to stretch out his hips and legs, nearly ignoring the telltale buzz he felt at the base of his skull until it was too late.

“Buck! There you are!”

Buck bolted upright at the same moment as a hand clapped onto his shoulder, squeezing in the friendly way Buck had become so accustomed to—but now, instead of a familiar warmth in his stomach, it sent a bolt of pain through his body. He sucked in a gasp and jerked his body away from the pain, fists halfway up as he turned around, his body sagging when he saw Eddie standing opposite to him.

Eddie, who he had been avoiding all day, who’s multiple messages he had left on read, who now looked like he was face to face with a ghost. If he could imagine how he looked right now, he might have laughed—black eye, slumped shoulder, pale, panicked face. It was probably hilarious, even if Eddie didn’t seem to think so.

“Buck?”

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Buck, what... what happened to you? Is this why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

The biting comment was on the tip of Buck’s tongue, to tell Eddie to fuck off, to get lost, but Eddie sounded so small and scared he couldn’t bring himself to snap. Instead, he offered a weak smile, shrugging his good shoulder. “Nothing I can’t handle. You should see the other guy, right?”

It probably was in poor taste to go for a joke, and Eddie’s dark expression only confirmed that fact, but what was Buck supposed to say? ‘Hey, no worries, my mom broke a picture frame so it was either let her get the shit beat out of her or take the heat?’ Yeah, no.

Suddenly, his face was in Eddie’s hands, and oh wow that was nice, and he had to work to keep from sighing as Eddie’s fingers went feather light over his skin.

“Buck, this wasn’t just a little love tap.” Hah, no, there was no love in it at all. “You know, I could teach you how to block a few hits. Some self defense.”

Buck laughed, humorlessly, shaking his head. “No, that’s okay. Not a lot of good there, I don’t think.” he shrugged, shaking his head, even as Eddie opened his mouth to protest.

“But I can—”

“Stop. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Buck, I am serious. I’m really worried about you, have been all day.”

Buck had to swallow at that, his heart sinking, and he looked down as he weighed his options. Neither were good. But if one kept Eddie from worrying...

“...fine. On one condition.” Buck said, his voice a little thick as he looked back up to Eddie, who... well, he looked like he would do anything Buck asked at that moment, and wasn’t that an interesting swarm of butterflies in his stomach?

“You stop asking about how I got them.”

Eddie’s face did a funny kind of flip flop, but eventually, he nodded. “Fine. First lesson starts now.”

Buck sighed again as he thumbed the hem of his shirt, debating for only a moment before he pulled it off. The tank top he was wearing beneath didn’t hide a whole lot, but he figured Eddie had already seen one bruise, and had promised not to ask about the rest, so he didn’t think much could come from getting rid of the heavy, hot garment.

What would come of it, apparently, was Eddie gaping at him, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Buck felt a sense of shame pool in his stomach, ready to put the shirt back on in another second—he didn’t think the bruises were so bad, but maybe—

“Buck, you’re—you’re ripped.”

What?

“How are you not on the wrestling team with me? Or the lacrosse team, or football, or... something?”

Buck blinked for a moment before he felt blood rush to his face. Oh. Oh. Eddie wasn’t staring because he was disgusted, or horrified, but because he apparently... liked what he saw. From a sportsman perspective. That had to be it. Right. He cleared his throat, willing the pink to die down on his cheeks. “Eddie, are you gonna teach me or what?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up, wide as dinner plates, voice an active higher as he spoke. “Right!” He cleared his throat, shaking his head as he stepped closer to Buck. “Okay, so, if someone is going to come at you from the front, if they try and throw a punch, you just move the outside of your arm to knock the arm back, and—good.”

Buck didn’t even wait for Eddie to finish speaking, as soon as the hand was up he batted it away with perhaps a bit more force than needed, a thoroughly unimpressed look on his face.

“Okay, but then you need to follow through with a hit when they’re open. See—”

Eddie moved to throw a punch again, slow and painfully obvious, and Buck followed his instructions, pushing it away, and then... not doing anything. Eddie scowled, raising his hand again, and just like before, Buck knocked it away with the inside of his fore arm, trying to focus on the best point to hit to knock the hand away.

“Buck, you have to follow through. Blocking is great but you have to use the opening to hit back.”

Punch- block. Punch- block. Punch- block. Eddie started picking up the tempo, moving around Buck,

“I’m not hitting back, Eddie.”

Yeah, right. Buck hit back, and he’d probably get beaten beyond recognition. Pass.

“I can see that, but you have to. If someone is going to try and hurt you, you have to strike whenever you’re open. One good hit and you can run like hell.”

Punch- block. Punch- block. Where exactly was he supposed to run to? The living room? The kitchen?

“No.”

Eddie gave a quicker shot—still weak, but Buck ducked, pushing the hand away from him. This was actually proving to be pretty useful.

“Look, I get not wanting to hit someone, but you just need to daze them if you’re going to get away.”

“Eddie, I don’t hit back. That’s now how this works.”

“Well why the fuck not—”

“Because it doesn’t fucking matter!” Buck yelled, his tone taking himself by surprise, as did the heat that suddenly burned through his face. “It doesn’t matter if I land a hit or not, it doesn’t matter if I get hurt, as long as he doesn’t hurt anyone else!”

“He?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and dark, and Buck almost swallowed his tongue when he realized what he had said.

“Buck, who did this to you?”

“I have to get to class.”

It was too much. Buck swallowed as he turned around, abandoning his belongings in the locker room as he fled through the gym doors. He didn’t have to run far—thankfully he had his phone and wallet with him, which meant he had a train ticket—and only when he managed to throw himself between the closing doors of the Thorndale line did he manage to breathe again.

He pulled his phone out when the train took off, shooting a quick message to Maddie, asking her to call him out for the rest of his day.

Then he turned off his phone, put his head in his hands, and started to cry.

When Buck came to school the next day, he had his concealer on, and as far as he was concerned, the day before had never happened. He parked in his regular area, locked the doors, and tried not to sigh too heavily when he saw Eddie waiting from him.

He didn’t have it in him for a fight, but Eddie had both his hands up, and that was enough to keep Buck from running again.

For now.

“Look, Buck, I won’t ask details, but.... just tell me, are you okay?” Eddie asked, his voice slow and unsure, and Buck felt a frown creeping over his face in spite of himself.

He tilted his head as he looked Eddie over, brow furrowed. “You really care about me.” A statement, not a question, but Eddie nodded all the same. “Why?”

If the question caught Eddie off guard, he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked away, seemingly chewing over his words as he tried to answer.

"Because you’re worth being cared about, Buck.”

Buck hummed as he considered the answer, acting like it didn’t just rock him to his very core, and sighed as he opened his arms and pulled Eddie into a hug—Eddie seemed surprised, but pleased, and Buck didn’t have to wait long before Eddie was hugging him back, so gently and mindful of Buck’s body that he thought he might start crying again.

“So, it’s not just these rugged good looks?” he mumbled into Eddie’s hair, and Eddie groaned, shaking his head.

“Buck, please.”

“My charming personality?”

“Buck, please.”

Somehow, nothing changed, and everything did.

Eddie didn’t bring up the bruises anymore, possibly because they weren’t visible anymore, but he held himself differently around Buck—instead of grand claps on the back, he tugged at Buck’s elbow, instead of a teasing elbow to the ribs, it was a playful shoulder bump—all, Buck knew, things that Eddie could do without risking aggravating an unseen injury.

Any doubt in his mind that Eddie knew what was going on was dashed almost immediately, when Eddie intentionally steered the conversation in their little friend group (which was mostly the wrestling team, who had decided beyond all reason that Buck was okay) away from family matters. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, and Buck was sure it was at least a little obvious when you got to know him where the bruises came from, but that was why Buck had been so hesitant to get to know anyone in the first place.

What was new, though, was the hand holding. It started off as Buck being led around, but then Eddie never really let go of his hand. Buck didn’t mind it, even though he felt he should—he was more or less dying for any physical contact that didn’t hurt, an itch he didn’t even know he needed scratched until Eddie showed up. But it was still... weird.

It wasn’t until later on, as Thanksgiving break loomed around the corner, when Eddie let his hand trail over his shoulders while dropping a burrito and chips from the Qdoba off campus did Buck start connecting dots.

Eddie was always a touchy feely guy, and it had only increased as of late.

Eddie had blushed when Buck took off his shirt—and for good reasons, apparently.

And now, Eddie was treating him to lunch.

They were all fine things on their own, but once was an accident, twice a coincidence, and three times, a pattern.

He swallowed his bite of burrito—the perfect order, even though he was sure Eddie had only asked him what he liked once, weeks ago—and derailed whatever train of thought Eddie had going in one fell swoop.

“...but if you look at the—”

“Eddie, are we dating?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. A denial, maybe? Or another blush and topic change?

What he wasn’t expecting was for Eddie to nod his head, his smile a little wider, and then just continue on.

“Anyway, as I was saying—”

“No, hang on. We’re dating? This is like, a lunch date? You bought me lunch, because we’re on a lunch date?”

Eddie’s smile was so soft that Buck instantly felt at ease, even though he knew he was probably asking the dumbest questions of all time. “Yeah Buck, this is a lunch date. I didn’t want you to freak about it, but I knew you’d come to the conclusion eventually.”

Buck hummed as he reached over, stealing one of Eddie’s chips, chewing it thoughtfully before he rose his brow. “Well, this is a pretty nice first date, then.”

He tried not to be offended when Eddie snorted, raising his brow as he met the challenge.

“Buck, this is at least our second or third date. Our last date was me bringing you home to meet my parents.” Eddie said with a smirk, but Buck frowned, shaking his head.

“Wait, Eddie, that was forever ago. What was our first date then?” Buck asked, confusion written all over his face.

Eddie actually blushed—okay, Buck was officially never getting tired of seeing that—as he looked up, humming in a way that was probably meant to be nonchalant but definitely wasn’t. “Oh, uh, well I consider our first date to be the first lunch we had. Um, the one where I made the joke about Ms. Syzmaski’s wrinkly old ass?”

Buck was honestly lucky he had swallowed before Eddie spoke, because that would have been a spittake for sure. “What the fuck about that joke made you think of that as a date?”

Eddie was pink again and Buck had to physically bite his tongue not to goad him about it, but he was steadily getting redder as Buck waited. Finally, Eddie threw up his arms, sighing in defeat as he buried his head in his hands.

“It was... it was the first time I made you laugh, okay? That’s why it was so nice.”

Oh, that was cute. Fuck, that was so cute. Buck could actually feel his resolve start to give way, which was unacceptable on more than one level, and he took a breath as he steadied himself. “I’m not staying.”

Eddie look like he had been punched. “What?”

“I mean it. I’m not staying. As soon as I graduate I’m getting out of this state, hell, this time zone if I can.”

“Buck—“

“I mean it, Eddie, I can’t—can’t stay here. And I like, you, I really like you, but if you’re staying in state, you have to know that I won’t. Not for anything, so if that’s a dealbreaker for you, you should just…”

His lungs ran out of his air as he forgot to breathe, but it was probably for the best, Eddie taking the moment to jump in before Buck could continue freaking out. “Buck, what makes you think I’m staying?”

Buck swallowed, his thoughts completely derailed. “What? You just moved here, why would you be leaving again?”

“The only reason we’re here this year is for my dads work. He has a year long contract, then we’d probably be moving back to Texas, but even then, who knows? No offense, but I have zero urge to stay in this snooty, Ivy-League bullshit state.”

Buck spoke slowly as his brain tried to catch up with what Eddie had said, brow wrinkling in a way that Eddie was definitely going to remember to call cute later on. “So… you’re not planning on staying. And you don’t care if I leave either.”

“No, Jesus. All I want is for you to be happy.”

It probably said a lot about how much that simple statement shocked him, but at this point in his life, he wasn’t sure anything would sit as “normal” for a long time.

“Oh. Well, then, care to explain how we’ve apparently gone on three dates and you haven’t kissed me yet?”

Eddie lit up like a Christmas tree as he scooted forward on the bench, his eyes bright. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? I didn’t want to scare you off or anything—“

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss me right now, I swear I’ll—“

He didn’t get to finish his threat—which was mildly annoying—but the warm pressure of Eddie’s lips against his own drowned out any other objection he thought he may have.

He was almost late to class, his lips bruised in a way he absolutely loved, and he regretted absolutely nothing.

The day before they were due back in school from Winter Break, Buck had been planning on spending the entire day in bed, recuperating from the incessant display of familial togetherness that the holidays usually had brought. Eddie had been his one saving grace—near constant phone calls, texts, and snapchats had been the only thing keeping Buck’s temper low enough to avoid a few new bruises.

And, if the sight of Eddie wearing the simple leather corded necklace that Buck had gotten him for Christmas made his heart beat a little faster whenever he saw it, that was between him and God.

The past three months had been… alarmingly good, if Buck was being honest. If his home life had taught him anything, it was that the other shoe always dropped—so as much as he loved spending time with Eddie, as much as he loved their kisses, and rare dates, and holding hands in the hallway, as much as he honestly, truly thought he could see a life beyond high school with him, he was constantly, constantly waiting for that other shoe to drop.

Which was why, when Eddie called him at one o’clock on a Sunday, Buck let it ring a few times before he gathered himself to answer the phone.

“Hey, are you busy tonight? I want you to come over and meet everyone.”

“What do you mean, meet everyone? I’m pretty sure all of your family knows me by now.” That much was definitely true—Buck had been spending more time at Eddies than his own whenever he could help it, and while there was always someone out on an errand or at work or doing something else, he had participated in enough dinners, family calls, and video chats that he knew more of Eddie’s family than he did his own. “What, you have another set of siblings you’re hiding away from me?”

Eddie’s resounding laugh was a little too loud, a little too tense, just enough to spike Buck’s curiosity without making him fear the worst. He agreed easily after that, asking if he needed to bring anything, and made plans for a few hours later.

When he pulled up to Eddie’s house, though, it was almost unrecognizable. There were streamers tossed through the tree in the front yard, balloons tied to nearly every horizontal surface Eddie could see, and there were enough cars parked out front that Buck had to squeeze in behind a truck and a fire hydrant (and hope that he wouldn’t get a ticket).

As usual, Eddie met him at the door (Buck had teased him once about waiting by the window, and when Eddie blushed and didn’t deny it, Buck had gone in to full hysterical laughter), the obvious nerves he was displaying not enough to dissuade Buck from punching him in the shoulder. “Eddie, what the fuck! Is this a party? You told me not to bring anything, I could have—“

“Oh whatever, I’ll sign your name on my card, calm down.” Eddie said, like he wasn’t the bundle of nerves himself, leaning forward to press a kiss to Buck’s lips (which he accepted, of course, he wasn’t a monster even if he was annoyed). He easily succumbed to the whirlwind of introductions—aunties and uncles and people who were clearly of the Diaz family, and damn, Eddie wasn’t kidding when he told Buck he wanted him to meet everyone. Eddie’s nerves started to hitch back up as they made their way to the backyard, and Buck was about to call him out on whatever it was that was going on when Eddie beat him to the punch.

“Alright, you ready to meet the man of the hour?”

“Only if you’re ready for me to.” Buck said with a hum, smiling as Eddie’s face did some impressive expressive gymnastics. “Eddie, you’re wound like a damn spring. If you don’t want me to meet this person, or any of these people, I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, yeah?” He said, bringing his other hand up to link with Eddie’s as well.

Eddie, to his credit, looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his chest, and he beamed as he leaned in to kiss Buck agin. “God, you’re perfect. Have I ever told you that? Well, probably not enough, but it will have to wait, because…” Eddie pushed through the back door and towed Buck along with him, where a circle of chairs were set up around a table stacked high with drinks, snacks, party games, and in the middle of it all—

“…because here’s the birthday boy!”

—was a high chair, fully equipped with a tray table, a soppy cup, and a baby.

A baby.

Buck felt every nerve, every tense minute, every rational thought melt in his body and turn into a warm puddle of goo at the very core of his soul, and his face must have reflected that fact because Buck was vaguely aware of two of Eddie’s sisters laughing at him, but who cared there was a baby and it was the most adorable, pudgy, perfect baby Buck had ever seen.

The baby quickly let out a high pitched squeal as his attention landed on Eddie, smacking his hands against the table in front of him, and Buck could not be held accountable for the noise that he made when Eddie swooped forward and undid the tray, pulling him out of the high chair easily, tucking him into an arm like he was a seasoned pro.

“Buck, this is Chris.”

And now Eddie was walking toward him with the baby, the baby who’s name was Chris, and Buck only waited for the barest hint of a confirmation from Eddie before he moved closer, cooing toward the excited little bean in Eddie’s arms.

“Today is Chris’ first birthday.”

Which, that made sense, he was still so small and pudgy but still so energetic, and Buck nodded along with the rapid fire babbling as he squeezed Chris’ little foot playfully, feeling more proud of anything at the peal of laughter Chris let out at that.

“Chris is my son.”

Well, that made sense, Chris had the same complexion as Buck did, and he was just as quick to smile, and even though his hair was lighter in color it was still thick and wavy, and—

Wait.

His brain caught up with his ears and yanked him out of his baby haze as he looked back up to Eddie, and oh, yeah, there was that nervousness that Buck had felt radiating off of him all afternoon. It seemed to echo around the yard, where there was conversation and laughter just a moment ago, everyone seemed quieter now, hushed, or maybe that was just the rushing in Buck’s ears. Things started fitting into place as Buck thought about it—how he had met all of Eddie’s immediate family, but not at the same time, probably because someone had probably taken Chris out whenever Buck came over. How Eddie so obviously loved his family, but still got a little awkward talking about them at times. Why Eddie had only rarely badgered him about going out after school, because he was spending most of the time himself with his son.

“This is your baby.”

“Yes.”

Oh.

“You’re his father.”

“Yeah.”

Oh.

“Eddie, he’s beautiful.”

Eddie sagged like a puppet with its strings cut, the tension bleeding out of his body, and the smile he shot to Buck was more open and honest than he had ever seen before. He could feel a collective sigh breathed around him as the voices picked back up, apparently approving of Buck’s reaction. “He really is, isn’t he? When he was born last year, his mom wanted to give him up, but… I couldn’t even imagine that. My parents stepped up and really helped me out, we took him home, and it was just… perfect. Like it was meant to be.”

Buck looked up with a smile as Eddie spoke, utterly entrapped in how soft he looked as he held his son, his voice low and slow as to not startle the curious kid safe in his arms. “When my dad took a contract up here, I thought it would be the perfect chance to start over, you know? I wouldn’t give Chris up for anything, but I could tell teachers were going easier on me, boosting my grades, and I didn’t know if it was pity or… whatever. This was the chance for me to prove I could do it. You, uh, you’re the only one outside of my family who even knows.” Eddie said, and Buck had to physically bite his tongue to prevent himself from gushing.

“He’s perfect, Eds. You’re perfect. I’m… I’m really honored you told me.” Buck said easily, leaning forward for another kiss, mindful of the giggling body between them. “But if you think I’m going to let you forget that you told me not to bring anything to your baby sons first birthday, you have another thing coming, I can’t believe you didn’t let me get a gift or something—no, seriously!“

Eddie let out a groan as he leaned forward into Buck’s bickering, the sudden lull in the party long since forgotten as the night carried on.

The other shoe always dropped, though, and Buck 100% blamed himself for not seeing it coming. Hell, he 100% blamed himself for letting it happen. He had become complacent, he had let his guard down, Eddie had wormed his way into Buck’s heart and showed him how good things could be, and Buck had dared to believe him.

Buck had had hope, as stupid as it was, and now, here he was, standing at Eddie’s door, knocking at the wooden frame, begging, pleading for him to open the door—he didn’t realize how much he loved Eddie always meeting him at the threshold until it didn’t happen, until he wasn’t sure if Eddie was going to open the door at all, until he didn’t know what else he could do.

As it was, Eddie wasn’t the one who opened the door. It was Helena, who he had just spent the day with, and the sound she had made when Buck came into view was unholy.

The day had started off so well, too—Eddie and Buck had both been accepted to Texas A&M (while Buck’s pre-acceptance letter had come almost a month ago, he still waited until Eddie received his to even open the envelope), and Eddie’s parents had been so thrilled with him—with both of them—that they had insisted on treating everyone to breakfast before cheering Eddie on at what was likely the last wrestling match of the season (because as great as Eddie was, the team as a whole sucked).

Helena had forced him into a “Team Diaz” shirt, and Buck looked at himself probably a little too long in the mirror, tracing the name over his chest—if anyone noticed, no one said anything, though the smile on Helena’s face told Buck all he needed to know. Eddie, on the other hand, had absolutely lit up when he saw them all in the stands, his gaze lingering a little too long on the word Diaz splayed across Buck’s chest, and the look he gave Buck when they locked eyes again was nothing short of sinful (Buck was glad that he had been put on Chris duty—holding a baby was probably the only way he was able to distract himself from the sight of Eddie in spandex).

So, it didn’t come to a huge surprise when Helena opened the door and let out a sound that would have pushed him over the edge, had Buck not already been crying.

Well… halfway crying. He was only really tearing up in one eye, the other was too swollen to do anything more than squint.

His front was covered in blood, the “Team Diaz” stained red, his lip split and swollen and his cheek covered in bruises. It was probably for the best that his left eye was swollen shut, because blood was leaking around it from a split in his eyebrow, so he probably wouldn’t have been able to see anyway. Beyond the lip and the eye, though, the biggest concern was his nose—he didn’t think it was broken, but it was still sluggishly bleeding, and it just wouldn’t stop.

Helena pulled him into the house and immediately started barking orders (“Adriana, bring Christopher to the nursery and put him in his playpen. Sophia, tell Edmundo to get home right now, his Buck has been hurt. Ramon, give me the first aid kit.”), steering Buck easily to the back yard as the rest of the family scurried around.

By the time Eddie got home, Buck had been mostly cleaned up—or, at least, his nose had stopped bleeding long enough to mop up most of the blood on his face, and Helena had taped the gash on his brow closed with butterfly bandages, and had a cold compress pressed against his face. Eddie looked wild, his eyes wide and face unforgiving as he kneeled next to Buck, and if Buck had any tears left in his body he probably would have started crying again as Eddie cupped the uninjured side of his face.

Buck knew that Eddie was trying to find words, but he also knew there were a hundred wrong things to say at that moment, so he took the step for both of them.

“My dad found out about us.” There was no sense in sugar coating it, no sense in leaving the bandaid on too long, he just had to rip it off so they could move on. “Apparently he didn’t much like the idea of his son not carrying on the family name, he… didn’t take it well.”

Eddie let out a sound that could only be described as someone breaking, and Buck blindly reached for his hand, feeling something burn through his chest, deciding then and there that he wouldn’t let another ounce of his father hurt Eddie the way it had hurt him. “But you were right. One block, one hit, all I needed to get away.” His tone had soured into something dark and sticky, good eye burning as he remembered Eddie’s little self defense lesson, all those months ago. He could tell the moment that Eddie’s mind reached the same conclusion, and he scrambled to look at Buck’s hands—there were some bruising around his right knuckles, but that was it.

One punch, that was all he needed.

One punch, and just like that, he had left everything behind—his phone, his car, his father bleeding from what Buck could only hope was a broken nose, coughing and sputtering on the entryway floor. The only thing he had on him was his wallet and his hoodie, and even the latter was tossed into the trashcan as he got off the train, too thoroughly wet with blood to be of any good at keeping him warm.

Instinctively, he had gotten off the train and trusted his feet to take him somewhere he knew he would be safe. He had finally realized that that place would never be with his family, would never be his house. His house would never be his home.

“Eddie…” Buck started, his voice thick with emotion. “Eddie, I… I don’t want to go back. I never want to see them, ever again. I’ll call up Maddie, I’ll… I’ll do something, but I can’t go back there, ever.”

Eddie looked like his heart was breaking; but before he could open his mouth and tell Buck off for considering going anywhere else, Helena spoke again.

“You will do no such thing.”

Her voice soft but hard as steel, leaving no room for argument, and Buck looked at her with pleading eyes (well, eye) as she shook her head.

“You will not be going back there. I have half a mind to drive over there right now and—no. I will do everything I can to make sure you never have to see them again.”

Buck could feel himself sag in relief, a breath he didn’t know he had been holding coming out ragged and raw, even as Helena continued.

“And Buck, I don’t know Maddie, and I’m sure she would be happy to help you out however she could, but. I would never let another Diaz out onto the street. Never in my life.” She said, and Buck had to swallow when he realized who she was talking about.

They considered him a Diaz?

“So if you would really be happier, or safer, we can get in the car and I’ll bring you to your sister tonight, but it’s just a few months until you and Edmundo leave for college anyway, and—“

“Please stay. Please. God, Buck, please, at least stay with us until you heal up a little. Please.” Eddie had apparently had enough of his mothers talking in circles, his voice shaking as he spoke, and Buck’s shock must have shown on his face because Eddie looked like he was going to start crying again.

They really considered him a Diaz.

He wanted to question it, to object, to do anything to prevent himself from being in their hair, but just like it was the first time they had lunch together, Eddie had worked his way too far past Buck’s defenses, and apparently, he had brought his whole family with him.

Buck barely had to nod before Eddie had him wrapped up in his arms, tight, and Buck returned the favor easily, seamlessly, his head buried in Eddie’s neck like he belonged there.

The thought resonated as Helena went back inside, letting the two of them have their moment; though, just a moment, announcing that it would be a lovely night to have dinner outside on the patio. It bounced around his head as Eddie kissed his cheek when they passed each other with plates and glasses, setting the table beneath the string lights in the yard, the spot on his cheek tingling long after the contact had broken. It took root when Buck found himself laughing, sitting easier in his own skin than he had ever done before as Eddie tried to justify whatever foolish thing he had done in Ramon’s story, failing miserably, his hand laced tightly with Buck’s beneath the table.

Maybe this was where he belonged.

For the first time in years, Buck saw something that was worth holding on for, that was worth keeping and protecting and letting grow.

For the first time, he had hope.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 #buddiefic #911fic #highschool au #christopher diaz #tw: abuse #flospeaks #8k #fic #god this got long #I don't know if I like it but I needed it to be out of my brain so #there you go #mutually assured devotion

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t-lostinworlds · 5 years

Text

All Too Real (Tom Holland)

A/N: Well, this was longer than expected. I’ve had this idea in a while, and it feels great to finally do something about it aha. Also, I’m not going to tag my permanent taglist here since most of the people who are in there are for Shawn. BUT with that being said, tell me if you want to be added to a permanent taglist for Tom fics only or both Tom and Shawn. Am I making sense? Prolly not lmao but yeah. hope you guys enjoy this one!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Summary: You were meant to be acting, but the scene just hits too close to home that you've managed to say the wrong name, then everything just felt all too real.

Warnings: A bit of Angst and my usual typos

Word Count: 9.7k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

You didn't know who your leading man was until the very last minute, making it impossible to back out now.

Not only that, but you'd be risking a big opportunity if you decided not to take the part, the lead role to be exact. This was a big movie with big, well-known directors and it will guarantee to boost your career to the next level being that you're just starting off as an actress. This was your moment and you weren't going to jeopardize that just because of a personal reason. Plus, contractually, there was no turning back.

The movie was a mixture of crime, action, drama and romance, and it was already a given in the script that you'd be playing across a leading man.

You just had no idea it was going to be him.

Production starts tomorrow and you just found out that you're in a movie with non-other than Mr. Tom Holland himself.

Spider-Man to the world, ex-boyfriend in yours.

It was not public knowledge that you two used to be together. A very impressive thing being that your relationship lasted for about two years, yet not a single word got out. Nobody knew about you two except your closest friends and family, and both of you were happy to keep it that way for as long as you can until you both were ready to share your relationship with the world. But things happened and you didn't get a chance to do so.

You met Tom on the set of Captain America: Civil War. You were just a mere extra at that time as you were still trying to find your footing in the industry. He, on the other hand, had just finished his screen test with Chris Evans as he solely told you.

It was lunch time when this cute boy wearing this, almost a crossover between the Spider-Man costume and pajamas, went up behind you to grab some food.

You two talked for a little bit, asking about what you're doing here and all that jazz, until he charmed his way into asking for your number. And everything just kicked off from there really.

It was blissful while it lasted, the both of you, young and so in love. Nothing but pure happiness and adoration as your relationship took its course and blossomed into this wonderful thing. It was almost like a fairytale how lovely it was. So beautiful to see the joy in the two of you, even with those sweet little moments that you shared. That until the success of his first solo film as Spider-Man.

Him shooting the movie brought no problems at all as you were there to support him through and through. Hell, not even during the press junket where he's always traveling, that didn't cause any strain between your relationship as you've managed to make it work. But once the numbers started rolling in and the attention got bigger, that's where you got left behind.

You were still finding your way as an actress but you didn't seem to get the same amount of support from him as he did from you as time went by. He did at the start of course, he was your number one fan, but once he found his big break, you just got pushed to the side.

Somehow, in some odd way, a switch was flipped. He became distant, almost cold all of the sudden.

It was almost like he became too good for you in a way. Other people made you feel like you were nothing to him, that you weren't on his level and that took its toll on you. But the most hurtful part was that he didn't even bother to reassure you that, that wasn't the case at all.

There was this constant battle in your brain as you tried to reassure your own self with your relationship with him. That this was just nothing, that he was just busy, and that he loves you still. But clubbing out with friends most of the time doesn't really qualify as being busy now does it?

The logical part of you just keeps nagging that it was over. That there was nothing to hold on to, even if you hopefully wished there was something still there, that you can still save this relationship.

But no, it was all gone.

He broke up with you some time later. He said he wanted to enjoy life without worrying about anything, without worrying about you. He wants to enjoy his new found life while being single, in other words.

He was basically saying that you were holding him back, and to be honest? He was probably right. He made you feel that he was right.

The break up wasn't sunshine and butterflies at all. Voices were raised, words were thrown, and everything just burst into flames. When he shut the door and left, everything just turned to ashes, the remains of your heart along with your relationship. It was dark, cold and just painful to the point that you've lost yourself after that.

You took all the blame. All of it.

For months on end you kept telling yourself that if you were just good enough, if you were successful enough, then maybe he wouldn't have left you. You kept beating yourself up for something he has done and that never is healthy, telling yourself that it's your fault when in fact, it wasn't.

It took a lot of will-power to snap out of it, being that you are the most critical about yourself. But you've managed to push through, worked harder than ever before to get yourself out there and to make a name for yourself.

And here you are, about to star as the lead role of a big film.

You are far better than you were a year ago, definitely. But have you fully healed? No.

Distracting is not healing.

You kept yourself busy with your career and it has help you to not ever confront your pain. It was always shoved aside as you paid it no mind. You even avoided anything about him for that matter, in hopes that you wouldn't be reminded of that certain hurt that only he has caused. You've just been running away from it, running away from the demons of your past.

But now, there was nowhere to run.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier Y/N. I just got scared that you might turn the role down if you found out he was going to be in it too and it's just a big opportunity and I can't live with myself if I had let it slipped away from you." Your manager rushed her words on the other side of the call, the concern in her voice clear because she knows. She knows what you went through with Tom.

"No it's okay Jeanne. I understand why you did it and I really thank you for that. Another thing I owe to you." You stated truthfully. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have had that extra push that you needed to get you where you are today. And you were glad you've found someone who only has her best intentions when it came to you and your career.

"I–uhm, am I shooting scenes with him tomorrow too?" You added as a whisper, despite the fact that you were alone in your hotel room at the moment. Scared that if you'd say it any louder, the pain in your chest would only grow deeper and sharper.

"Yes, he is going to be there tomorrow." She answered, empathy laced in her tone and you can just picture the frown she has on her face.

You bit your bottom lip as you stared up at the ceiling. This is going to be a hard movie to shoot that's for sure. But you're a professional; you can just brush it off like it's nothing. "Okay, yeah, okay. I'll see you tomorrow Jeanne." You breathed out.

"Get some rest hun. You've got this." And with that you ended the call, your whole body flopping down on your bed as you let out a frustrated groan.

The universe truly does have its ways in making you face the person who you have been avoiding—so successfully so far—in order to spare yourself the heartache.

With one last sigh, you pulled the covers over your body, waiting for sleep to take over so that you can have a much needed rest.

It was going to be a long day tomorrow after all.

* * *

Two hours was all you got.

Two hours of sleep as you lay restless in your bed just thinking about all the millions of possibilities on what could happen once you see him again for the first time after a year.

No matter how hard you tried to shut him out of your thoughts, he still managed to invade it even after all this time. The past was haunting you, he was haunting you and it was like you were back to that night again.

You feel so disappointed in yourself as you found your way back to old ways, crying about a boy who doesn't even give a single damn about you.

It took all the courage and strength in your body to leave the bed in the morning. A struggle to say the least until you slapped some sense into yourself and finally made your way to set.

You just arrived in the nick of time. It wouldn't be ideal to arrive late on the first day of shooting as you wanted to let them see that you are a respectful and respectable actress, so managing to be just on time, it was a great start of your day.

Even more so when you felt the hot cup of coffee warming up your fingers as you held it in your hands. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans enough to boost your energy, especially with so minimal sleep.

There was no sign of him so far, and you were thankful to at least have time to breathe and just relax. No matter how little that time may be, you will definitely take it.

You've already met the Russo brothers who were both sweet and kind, both expressing their excitement to start the project that they've been so amped up to do.

After the casual chats, introductions and greetings, a young lady then guided you to where the trailers are going to be parked. Opting out of her offer to take you right at the door as you solely can manage yourself. But you also wanted some time to take in everything that you've seen so far because it was a big and amazing set, and just to take a moment to ground yourself in a way. Somewhat grasp every bit of alone time as you wouldn't have one until the end of the shoot, which was going to be later in the night.

You were on your way there when you suddenly heard something running after you, the sound of the pebbles rustling about growing nearer and nearer which was then followed by a loud bark. Surely enough when you turned around, you saw the prettiest dog, hurdling towards you with a wide smile on her face. That cute face that you'll always recognize from a mile away.

"Tessa?" You grinned wide as you squatted down to greet her, expecting a subtle encounter but no, she full on jumped on you making you fall flat on your bum. Genuine laughter erupted out of you as you tried to keep yourself sitting upright, all while making sure not to spill your coffee. You were sat cross-legged on rocks now but you didn't care, too preoccupied with the love Tessa was smothering you.

"Hi angel! How are you my love? You good? Healthy? Happy?" You gushed in a small voice, giggling when she covered your face in kisses, you not minding by one bit as you rubbed her belly in return.

You were too engrossed with Tessa that you didn't even notice that someone was already standing there, just watching, not until you heard your name.

"Y/N..."

You didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Having heard your name slip out of those lips countless of times, all on so many different occasions, there was no need for you to see who that voice belonged to.

It wasn't even above a whisper, but you heard it, the sound of longing etched in his voice, that certain tone that you've heard endlessly but only... only whenever he misses you.

And you wanted nothing more than to curse him out because how dare he? How dare he act like he cares when he didn't show any of that—not even in the slightest—that night he left you?

You were already filled with so many emotions and that's only from hearing his voice, you haven't even looked up to fully see him yet.

"Tom." You sighed, giving the back of Tessa's ear one last scratch before standing up fully, patting your jeans clean before gathering up the strength to finally look up at him in the eyes.

The way your heart stopped for a full second and then beat again but with twice the pace, never have you felt that in your life.

You stood frozen as you stared right into them, those brown orbs that once felt like home, but now only brings nothing but pain. And the way he was looking at you so longingly, it only added anger in the mix.

"Hi."

Tom knew he fucked up.

He knows how bad he screwed things up. He was fully aware of how much he's lost and how much of an idiot he is for being the reason of that in the first place.

You were finally standing right in front of him, in the flesh, in all your gorgeous glory, and Tom was at a loss for words.

He was talking to the Russos when Tessa suddenly bolted full speed. Not having familiar with the set yet, Tom was quick to run after her in fear that she might get lost, but he ended up finding her with a sight that was heartwarming yet heartbreaking at the same time.

He heard your laugh first. That familiar and beautiful sound enabling his heart to beat rapidly against his chest, even more so when he saw you sat on the ground with Tessa, nothing but pure joy and love radiating off of his princess, and the love that he once had.

The sight was beautiful, so endearing and it warmed him up inside, but it also reminded him of what it once was.

God he was a fucking idiot.

"Long time no see." Your voice snapped him back to senses, a soft blush coating his cheeks because he doesn't know how long he's been staring at you, but by the gods above you look absolutely breathtaking. Even in just casual jeans and a sweater.

"Yeah, it's great to finally see you again. You look beautiful." Tom breathed out, the last sentence escaping his mouth before he could even stop himself.

Tom might have been acting like such a creep but he just feels so happy to see you again. You probably wouldn't even believe him if he told you, not after what he's done, and he can't blame you. But he does, he truly does feel so happy.

"Thanks." You mumbled as you flashed him a smile. Whether it was genuine, Tom wasn't sure, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"How are you?" He asked just as he took a step towards you, but you were quick to take one step back and this made a frown form on his lips. The way you looked away and avoided his gaze, it stung, but Tom also can't say he didn't deserve it.

"I'm good, but uh, I need to get ready so uh—"

"Yes! Yes, of course, don't let me hold you off." Tom chuckled coyly, hand coming up to rub his shoulder, and just like that, the awkwardness in the air only heightened from there. Because after everything that has happened, Tom wasn't sure where he stands in your life anymore. Whether it be a civil friend or just a cast mate at this point.

When the Russos pitched him the idea, it was a no-brainer, Tom wanted to do the project right off the bat. But when he found out who the star of the movie was going to be? Nothing but pure excitement and much pride filled him up to the bones.

He has seen most, if not, all of the movies you've been in. Visiting your social media every now and then to see what you've been up to. It may sound stalker-ish in a sense but it's the only way for him to keep up with how you've been doing. And to see you grow and be the star that you were always meant to be? It was a beautiful thing for sure.

It might not have been as beautiful as experiencing it with you first hand, since he ruined that chance by a long shot, it was still heartwarming to witness—even if it was only via screen.

"Yeah, see you on set." You mumbled, giving him a curt nod before turning your attention back on the dog who was just sitting there, observing, tail on an all-time wag once she's seen that you've finally given her your attention again.

"I'm so happy to see you again angel." You whispered as you crouched back down to give Tessa a sweet kiss on the head, and Tom's heart completely melted at that.

You were there when Tom got Tessa.

He hasn't said it out loud nor broadcasted it in any way, but you became Tessa's mommy in the duration of your relationship. You took care of her while he was away on press or shoots, and he will forever be grateful for that.

Tessa was your baby as much as she is Tom's, and it now just dawned on him that he took her away from you. And Tom felt even more of an asshole than he already was.

You shot him one last look before you turned on your heel, not ever once looking back as you walked towards what Tom would only assume was your trailer.

Tessa was about to follow you but Tom was quick to grab her collar, squatting down to hold her fully to keep her in place because she was for sure putting up a fight. "No Tessa, you stay with me."

The poor pup whined once you were out of sight, looking up at Tom with those eyes emitting a soft sigh out of him. He nodded his head solemnly, giving Tessa's head a soft pat as his eyes slowly landed back on the closed door of your trailer.

"I know love, I missed her so much too."

* * *

Tom was watching from afar, he just couldn't help himself, but he doesn't exactly know which of you is which yet.

All he sees is there are two girls dressed in identical, all black and leather outfits, both have their hoods up with backs turned on him. He knows one of them was you and the other was your stunt double, he just can't seem to differentiate who is who as of the moment.

"Okay now Tom, you already know how the scene goes. The first time Detective Allan Spade, your character, meets Luna. They've known each other before so you are basically going to be surprised that the sweet innocent girl, who's your childhood best friend and then dated up until college was now a well-trained and elite assassin." Joe was the one to interrupt Tom's ogling since Anthony was at your side giving notes too. One of the perks of having two directors on set is that you can speed things up a bit. The set was built quite large so it definitely was a plus.

It was the first scene of the day and they were starting it off with an action sequence, one with cars, explosions, gun shots and the likes. It wasn't the first take for the rest but it was for Tom, being that they perfected some of stunts first, which was mostly done at the end of the set far across from him.

He didn't get to see who was doing which stunt because your character's costume has you covered in almost head to toe, making it impossible to know without having a closer look.

He was very excited though, maybe even too much that his mind sometimes flies off to somewhere—or rather, someone—instead of focusing more with the task at hand.

"Okay, yeah, gotcha." Tom nodded frantically as he cleared his throat. His arms were crossed over his chest as the heat rose up his cheeks once Joe looked at him curiously. "You okay? You seem a bit preoccupied?"

"Just a lil tired but I'm alright." Tom chuckled shyly as he looked down, the director only nodding as he added. "We're going to try and have one fluid shot with this scene so once you see her jump over the hood of your car, you quickly get out to your marker and aim your gun."

Tom hummed with a smile to let Joe know that he's listening attentively. The director gave him one last pat on the shoulder before turning back to the crew.

"Okay places everyone!" And with that, Tom got inside of a car that was hooked up to a wire rigging. It was only going one way but in top speed, so safety first is a must, hence why he isn't allowed to really drive it.

Tom already had his hands on the wheel, his head turning just enough to see a girl or Luna as he would refer—to which he assumed was your stunt double—hooked up to a trust and wires. She stood on top of a car that was situated in the middle of a chaotic road.

The sight was hectic enough with a number of cars littered everywhere—some overturned, some on fire—and a few bodies of supposed police offers sprawled on the pavement. Luna threw her hand up with thumb upturned to signal that she was ready to do the scene.

"Set and action!" And everything then just sprung to life.

Gun shots echoed throughout the space as explosions went off here and there. The car Luna was standing on drove full speed and came to a screeching halt in an attempt to shake her off. But the sudden movement only enabled her to jump off and flip right on time, so smoothly and with much grace. She landed on the ground with a roll, pausing for a second in a crouching position to let the camera capture the moment before she was full on sprinting again.

Tom's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he watched her approach, incredibly fast and nimble, dodging the cars and bullets coming after her with so much ease as if they were whizzing past her in slow motion, all while maintaining such poise in doing so.

With the signal, Tom stepped on the gas pedal hard, perfectly in sync as his car lurched forward in an attempt to catch her off guard, but just as it came right in front of her, she jumped and slid herself over the hood, landing down on the ground crouching.

Before she could even make another move, Tom had already gotten out of his car, the sound of the gun clicking stopping her in her tracks.

"Hands up where I can see them!" Tom growled, gun firm in hand as he slowly approached her, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the figure right in front of him.

She stood up carefully with both hands held up in surrender, the silence in the air suddenly ringing as she turned around with her head hanging low, covering her face completely. That until she slowly lifted her hood off.

"Woah." Tom sucked in a breath, completely caught off guard as he stared at none other than star of the movie herself, you.

Sure, half of your face was covered with a mask, but he just knows it's you and it really took him utterly by surprise.

Tom genuinely did think your stunt double was doing this scene as the action sequence wasn't in anywhere near easy, but he'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

To say he was thoroughly impressed would be an understatement.

But knowing you for the time that he has, Tom knows how much of a hardworking woman you are. So seeing that you will likely do all of your stunts, it wasn't at all surprising to come and really think about it.

Still, Tom was speechless as he kept staring at you, and it was like there was no acting required as he slowly lowered the gun to see you more. His eyes not seeming to believe that it was you standing in front of him. Perfectly on script.

It felt so new to him seeing you in a different element, seeing you look even more beautiful and extremely sexy with that much tattered, faded leather and straps hugging your body.

You were wearing those long boots that stopped mid-thigh paired with shorts that were ripped on the edges, an almost gothic type of a hooded cloak swaying with the air, making it look even more promising that you can definitely kill. You look like you just came out of an Assassin's Creed video game, but more on the modern side. And instead of swords and knives, you've got guns.

Your eyes on the other hand were on a different level.

They were threatening to say the least. The glare was so intense that Tom actually felt like you were about to hand his ass over to him. Those sweet eyes he's grown to adore was masked by this menacing and dark look and he just keeps getting more impressed as he goes on. He wouldn't want to meet you in this state in an alleyway—or anywhere for that matter—that's for sure.

He definitely hasn't seen you like this before and boy was it making his head spin, and dare he say it, it was making him feel all hot.

You were fully in your badass mode and Tom wasn't sure if he was scared or extremely attracted, or maybe even both at the same time.

"And cut!"

And then you giggled.

Tom has let go of a girl who can definitely do both. As if he wasn't a big enough idiot already.

"Was that good?" Your voice was muffled by the face mask you were wearing, but Tom can just hear that wide smile on your face. You really just had to make him soft by being all cute and sweet again.

Oh you were giving him a whiplash that will surely be the death of him.

"Nailed it! Both of you!"

"Really? And, uh, can I have some water please?" You giggled shyly, only sparing Tom a second of a glance before your eyes was back on a girl who brought you a bottle of water.

This made him frown involuntarily, curios eyes looking at you as a certain pang hits his chest.

She's still mad at you and rightfully so.

Tom ran a hand through his hair with a sigh as his eyes casted itself on the ground. He was starting to go deep in thought as to what he should do to make things clearer for the both of you, but he got interrupted when Anthony approached him to give a few notes and directions for the next part of this scene.

So Tom just shoved his thoughts to the side and decided that when the time is right, you two will get to talk eventually.

* * *

It was the last scene of the day to which you're a little bit relief by. You were pretty much drained to the bone and you can't wait for the day to be over. But with one downside: it's also the scene that you've been dreading the most.

It was a flashback scene of your character and Tom character's falling out. It was sort of the last straw to break her completely that would then be one of the reasons that pushes her to become an assassin right after everything in her life has gone to hell.

It wouldn't have been too much of a big deal if it wasn't near what happened with you and Tom. But the case was, it was almost as identical as the night you and Tom broke up.

What a way of the universe to joke.

There were a couple of different scenarios sure, but the whole idea and vibe of the scene? It was like it was taken from the books of your very own life.

The set was whittled down now, the setting a residential area with an empty street in a cold night. You were out of your costume and in a simple knee-length dress and a denim jacket along with a pair of sneakers. A beanie sat atop your head as your hair fell down your shoulders freely.

It was tough trying to get into the headspace, as this was a heavy scene with so much crying involved, but it doesn't even take too long when all your mind could think of was that night.

"You okay?" Anthony asked as he furrowed his brows at you, concern written on his face as you've managed to look extremely crestfallen.

"Yeah, just getting into the zone." You laughed awkwardly, your heart getting heavier by the minute especially when you caught a glimpse of Tom approaching and then stopping just beside you.

"You've been incredible so far with all the action Y/N. But this scene in particular, I want you to channel all your deep emotions. You character has been through so much, loss of a father, an addict mother, the society looking down at you and then the only person who you trust and love starts to change and turn his back on you." You only nodded at Anthony's direction since your mind was already there. You've already experienced a few of the things your character has, so it wasn't hard to tap into those emotions.

You can feel Tom's stare just burning a hole through the side of your head, but never did you spare him a glance. You aren't sure if you're strong enough to keep your tears at bay. Probably best to just save it for the scene.

"You Tom, you've just gotten popular with the crowd, new friends, and people seem to love you and you only see her as like a hindrance to your joy because she starts asking for your attention. You kinda see her anger at you as her not wanting to see you happy or her being jealous of your success. You've been blinded by a lot of stuff so you become a jerk to her basically." It would be funny to think that Anthony was basically telling Tom to act the way he acted that particular night, but none of you were in the state of mind to find even the smallest humor in the situation at hand.

"Yeah okay, yeah." Tom cleared his throat, the tension in the air getting thicker by the minute that even Joe had to butt in. "Are you two okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost." The older brother asked as he stood beside Anthony.

"Yeah!" Both you and Tom almost squeaked in unison. You can feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you forced a smile. "Never better." You breathed out.

Tom was still staring at you; you can just feel it, and you so wished he would just stop. It wasn't helping your case at all, especially when he's got those messy brows furrowed by the looks of it in the corner of your eye, indicating that he was deep in thought.

"You guys have the freedom to improvise your lines, don't be afraid to stray away from the actual lines on the paper but make sure that you don't necessarily change the scene."

Without further more questions, you were finally ushered to your places. You kept your eyes on the ground while you stood in front of a screen door, hands in the pockets of your jacket as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

"Ready and action!"

You grabbed the screen door open as you slowly made your way inside. Different colored lights were flickering around as few people gave you looks because everyone knows you weren't invited to this party. You acted unbothered but your eyes were telling a different story.

Reaching the living room, the couch was where you saw him. He sat comfortably with arms outstretched on the back of the sofa, a girl right closely beside him as they whispered to each other's ear, rather too flirtatiously.

You stood there and watched as she got all too friendly with her hands, trailing up and down his chest as he didn't bother to do anything about it. Tears were welling up your eyes, but you willed yourself to stay focused, even if it wasn't necessarily full on acting as it was quite a familiar sight to see.

And with the cue, Tom looked up to meet your gaze and you held it, just long enough for the camera to pick up. The expression on his face was quick to change as he stood up abruptly. That was your indication to leave, so you turned around and rushed out of the house, the camera following closely behind you.

You were now on an empty street as he ran behind you, the set eerily quiet letting his footsteps echo loudly against the wet pavement. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you kept your head low, holding the tears in since it wasn't time for that yet.

"Wait, just wait a second. It's not what it looks like." Tom rushed as he grabbed your arm, but you shrugged it off and kept on walking, making sure not to take too long of the strides for you not to miss the marker.

"Of course it isn't." You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

"Just listen to me will you?" He called out in exasperation, but you didn't even bother to turn around and give him a look. "I don't want to listen to you anymore. Just go back and have fun with your so called lady friend." You said dismissively, seeing your mark to be one step more and once you reached it, and he reached his, his voice boomed.

"Why are you being such a bitch?" You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned around to finally face him, a look of absolute hurt written on your face as his only showed nothing but pure frustration.

"I can't do this anymore." You whispered with a shake of your head, blinking away the tears as you looked up at the dark sky.

"Can't do what?" Tom scoffed as he took a step forward but he kept a good distance, eyebrows furrowed in anger with his arms crossed over his chest to seem intimidating, and it was working. You knew it was all acting, but it just looked so believable that it took a sharp swing at your heart.

"This, us, you. I can't deal with you and your stuck up attitude anymore." You gestured between the both of you and then all of him, voice cracking as you willed yourself to keep eye contact. It was so hard to stay in character and balance your emotions at the same time, because the way he was looking at you, was the same way as he did that night he left.

Tom looked away with a sarcastic laugh. "Oh so now I'm stuck up? What did I do wrong this time?" You shook your head in disbelief at his words. "So many things, you're just too blind to see it."

"Then lay them the fuck out!" He snarled with one step forward, eyes boring furiously into yours that it almost made you take a step back. But you kept your ground, glaring at him with the same intensity as you threw your hands up in the air.

"Fine! You want me to lay it out for you? You've changed! Now that you've found your way in life and found a new group of friends suddenly you're too good for me. Suddenly you're mister successful while I'm the trash who follows you around." You barked back, his resolve wavering for a little bit as he grumbled. "You know that's not true."

"But it fucking is! You make me feel like I'm nothing compared to you! I'm your girlfriend but you can't seem to spend even a minute with me since you're out with your new friends a lot. And if you do give me a spare of your time you get mad for no goddamn reason! It's like you don't even want to be near me! Like I'm a disease to you and your new life! You think so highly of yourself now that you act like I'm some low class person as if we didn't grow up together!" The accusation in your voice was clear as day, and the way Tom's jaw clenched to show that you've hit a nerve, it scared you.

"Then maybe you should take the hint to do something better with your boring life so you can stop messing with mine!"

That was when you lost it. Any sense of what's real and what's just an act, you lost it.

"Start doing something with your own goddamn career and life and stop meddling with mine Y/N! I'm so sick of your shit!"

Your brain started to spiral out of control and suddenly you weren't on set anymore, you were back at the apartment, head in your hands as you cried your eyes out, the loud bang of the door slamming shut ringing in your ears.

A single tear ran down your cheek as you stared at him in shock, breath caught in your throat as you felt your whole body tremble. You struggled to form your words, your eyes shutting tight enabling more tears to run down your face as you breathed out. "I have always been there for you. All I ask is for you to be there for me too." It sounded like a plea, soft, desperate but very painful that Tom almost broke character. Almost.

"It's not my obligation to carry your failures for you." He stated with so much venom and ice that you could only nod defeatedly, lips quivering as you held his gaze for one more second before your eyes casted itself on the ground.

"That's not what I meant but fine. I will not be a burden to you anymore." Your voice sounded so small and frail, and it was taking everything in your power not to snap, to just walk away for it to be done. But he just had to have the last word now didn't he?

"So now what you're just going to leave and give up on us?"

You don't know what it was but something in his tone or words triggered you. After a year of bottling it in, months on end of it slowly reaching its boiling point, you finally blew up. You took a step towards him as you gave him a hard shove, the sudden action catching Tom totally off-guard making him stumbled back.

"Yes! Because I'm so fucking done! I'm so done with thinking every single day if I will ever be good enough for you!" You sobbed, the tears free falling down your face but you didn't care as you continued to yell at him.

"I gave you everything that I had! I was there for you day in day out! But you still treated me like shit! You made me feel like I didn't matter to you even in the smallest of ways and that fucking hurt so bad because you mean the whole world to me! You pushed me aside like we didn't went through anything! As if all our memories together was wiped off your brain and that hurts! It hurts to see you look at me like I'm some stranger, like I'm someone you hate so much even if I didn't do anything wrong to you! I've done nothing but love you. I—I loved you so much and all you did was hurt me in return. No matter how hard I tried, it still wasn't enough because you left me! You broke my heart when you said you'd take care of it. After all of your promises you broke all of me Tom!"

Tom froze at the mention of his name.

The anger on his face was quick to dissipate, replaced by a look of nothing but pure guilt. Tom's heart broke completely as he watched you break down in front of him, so vulnerable, so hurt, all because of him. "I–"

"No! You're not getting the last word this time. I've had enough. I am done." Your voice broke at the end of your sentence, turning around hurriedly and ran off shot, leaving Tom standing there frozen and stunned.

You covered your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, attempting to run back to your trailer to escape the prying eyes but Anthony stopped you, hands resting gently on your shoulders as he held you in arms-length. "Y/N, are you okay?" You shook your head no, your tears pouring even more at his question.

"Can I have a minute for some air please?" You stammered, vision blurry with all the tears but you still saw Anthony only nodding, eyebrows knitted in concern. "Go, take all the time that you need."

You breathed out a soft thank you and ran, back to your trailer, slamming your door closed and flipping the lock as you collapsed on the floor.

* * *

It took Tom a minute for everything that has happened to wrap around his head. Your words repeating itself over and over and he wanted nothing more than to beat himself up, black and blue.

He knew he hurt you but he could only just imagine how much, up until he saw your eyes as you looked at him with nothing but pure betrayal.

The pain in them were so real and Tom knew at that moment that you weren't even pretending anymore. You weren't acting but reliving that night again, he can just see it in your eyes. You weren't addressing him as his character, no; you were addressing him as himself, Tom Holland, the guy who broke you to pieces.

Tom should've just scrapped everything and held you. He should've said fuck it to the scene and just pulled you in his arms. But the thought crossed his mind a moment too late.

He stayed in his place completely still before he was snapped out of his state when Joe approached him, the director's face painted with confusion and concern. "Tom what was that? Is there something going on between you two that you're not telling us?"

Tom didn't bother to answer his question as he looked around set, the worry in him increasing when he saw no sign of you. "Where is she?"

"I think she went back to her trailer. Wait where are yo—"

"I'll explain later." Tom called out as he ran out of set. He needed to find you and set things straight. Tom needs to tell you the full truth, tell you what's he's been feeling the past year. He wasn't going to let himself make the same mistake twice.

* * *

Sobs raked your body as you rest your back against the door, knees held to your chest in a curling position. Your eyes burning with your lungs as you cried and cried, because even if you tried to stop, you just couldn't. You couldn't find the will to erase the thought of him leaving you. That image has burned itself in your mind and it hurts, so fucking bad and you just want it to go away.

A whine from the opposite side made you lift your head up from your knees, eyebrows furrowing together once you heard it again, but louder this time. "Tessa?" You sniffled, and she barked in confirmation, scratching at the door in an attempt to get to you. Your frown deepened at the sound of her crying on the other side. She knows fully well when you're upset, and she will do anything to be beside you no matter what. It was such a sweet thing she does. Tessa's been there beside you whenever she finds you crying, she was your comfort buddy, and today, that still hasn't changed.

You stood back up to undo the lock to let her in, ready to have her hugs and kisses because they always make you feel better, but when you pulled it open, you weren't only greeted by her, he was standing right there too.

Before you could even slam the door shut he had already pushed the door wider and made his way inside, shutting it just behind him, and you made sure to step back, putting some much needed distance between you two. Of course he did. Tessa was in his trailer, there was no other way she could've gotten out without his help.

"You are a fucking dickhead for you using Tessa as bait Tom." You growled in pure annoyance, wiping away your tears aggressively as you wrapped your arms around yourself, avoiding his eyes at all costs as you stood right beside the couch where Tessa was laying down, just watching you with attentive eyes. You gave her a soft pat, distracting yourself from the man who stood there.

"I just need to talk to you, and I know you won't open the door if it was me." He was making his way towards you, but you were quick to hold your palm up, stopping him in his tracks and only making it halfway. You couldn't bear to be near him, at least not yet. Tom nodded, staying in his place as a soft sigh left his lips, "Please–"

"There's nothing left to talk about Tom." Your voice was hoarse, tears still falling down your face but not as much as before. "Yes there fucking is." He argued, desperation running through him as he tried his luck, taking another step forward. Tom just wants to be near you, to hold you and he almost shouted in glee when you didn't stop him.

"What do you want from me Tom?" You whispered, willing yourself to look at him, but only for a split second, because you couldn't bear to see his face without bursting into full on sobs again. But still, you saw it, the sadness in his features, and your walls were slowly cracking.

Tom kept inching closer and closer, and he was both relief and scared because it seemed like you weren't putting up a fight anymore, like you've somehow given up.

You were tired, both emotionally and physically, so you didn't bother to take a step back once he grew nearer. You were tired of running, maybe it was time for you to finally face him.

"I just want you to hear me out, please." Tom whispered, shaking hands slowly reaching out to hold your arms, and you let him. You let him touch you, the heat of his palms comforting you in some odd way. He was so close now and you know if you did as much as look up, you'd see nothing but his eyes, so you didn't, you can't yet. You glued your gaze on the ground, just seeing the tips of his shoes almost touching with yours, it was that close.

"You had time before to reach out Tom. Why now?" Your voice was low but broken, a question that's been in the back of your head the moment he set foot inside your trailer. "Because you looked happier and I didn't want to ruin it. I thought that you were better off without me."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, probably making you look like a complete lunatic with the tears covering your cheeks but you didn't care. Of course you look happy on screen. You had to. To fool the world and yourself, but it was always a lie, what you've shown online was just a glimpse of your life, not the full truth. "Well, clearly, I wasn't. Aren't you?"

"Fuck no. I wasn't happy without you. I know you probably won't believe me but I wasn't Y/N. I will never be better off without you." You only sniffled, still shaking your head, still not believing his words and Tom can't blame you. But he needs you to hear what he has to say, so when you stayed quiet, Tom took this opportunity to just let out what he's been holding in for how many months now.

"Darling I'm sorry, for everything that I've ever done and said to you. Fuck I know sorry doesn't even cut it but I am, I truly am sorry for hurting you my love." You let out a soft whimper at the nickname, eyes shutting tight as you shook your head at him. "Tom please don't–"

"No, no, I need you to hear this Y/N." Tom's hand went up to brush a hair behind your ear, then coming down to hold your chin up for you to look at him. It already hurts him so much just seeing you cry, and it stabbed his heart repeatedly just staring back at your pain filled eyes, the glow in them snuffed out and replaced by this broken soul.

Tom took one shaky breath before continuing. "What I did was horrible, and I know that it won't be easy for you to forgive me, and I understand if you won't ever. Hell I can't even forgive myself for what I did. I was stupid, fucking stupid for hurting you like that. I was a completely idiot for leaving you. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. You didn't deserve to get hurt like that at all. If could go back in time and take everything I said back, I would. The things that I've said, I didn't mean them, truly. I was so blinded, I was angry and got carried away, but still that's not an excuse. What I said was not okay, and it will never be. And I truly am sorry darling, I truly am."

Tom's voice broke at the end of his sentence, his heart clenching as he tried his best not to cry. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting you like that, it pains him just thinking about what he's put you through. The sheer amount of guilt and heartbreak was swallowing him whole and fast. Then there was also anger. He was so angry at himself for doing that to you, but what's done is done. The only thing he could do now was think about what lies ahead, hopefully, with you back in his arms.

"Y/N, I want you to know that... no, I need you to know that I still love you, I've never stopped loving you." Tom couldn't stop the tears from escaping his eyes, his bottom lip quivering as he spoke the words. The sob that you let out only broke his heart even more, your firm hands pressing against his chest as you tried to push him back. "No no no, you're just saying that. You don't mean that. Please don't lie to me Tom, please don't."

Tom shook his head as he bit his bottom lip to suppress a whimper. Both of his hands finding its way up to cup your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb as he pressed his forehead against yours. You kept your eyes shut tight, not finding even the smallest of strength to open them to see his face, looking at you so longingly.

"Look at me, baby, look at me." He pleaded, wanting you to see right through him, to look into his eyes and see the truth.

You took a few deep breaths as you wrapped your trembling fingers around his wrists, forcing yourself to open your eyes and gaze into his tear-filled brown orbs.

"I'm not lying to you. I love you, gosh I'm still madly in love with you Y/N." He breathed out with so much emotion, his words coming out as a soft whisper, but the truth was there, strong and firm for you not to miss it.

And who on earth were you kidding? Of course you still love him, you always have. And for the first time in a year, you let your heart take control over your brain; allowing you to push yourself up and let your lips capture his in a kiss filled with need and so much passion.

Tom was quick to kiss back, strong arms wrapping around your form as he pulled you closer to his body, his head spinning at the feeling of your warms lips back on his own after so long. Your fingers were lost in the mesh of his curls, the kiss wet due to a few more tears but neither of you cared because it felt like it belonged, like you two were finally home.

"I missed you so much." Tom groaned against your lips, walking you back slowly until you've reach the bedroom of your trailer, a slight confusion washing over you because the couch was right there, not that you're in a hurry or anything but... "Why–"

"Tessa." And with that he kicked the door shut, his action an enough answer because as much as you love the dog, she does have a habit of disturbing. A sweet giggle came out of you and Tom felt his heart melt at the beautiful sound, especially when it was filled with nothing but genuine amusement.

But that giggle was soon replaced by a soft gasp as Tom dipped his head to bring his kisses down to your neck, his hands pushing your jacket off your shoulders and letting it fall down the floor. That was when everything in your head got clouded, his lips on your skin a good enough distraction for both of you not to think straight.

Your hands found its way under his shirt, a shiver running down Tom's whole body because they were cold, but not for long. He shrugged his own jacket off and pushed you further back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed allowing you to fall down the mattress with a soft thump. Tom pulled his shirt over his head and didn't waste a second more as he crawled on top of you right after, lips back on yours hungrily as he situated himself in-between your legs, your dress hiking up when you wrapped them around his waist.

Your fingers were tracing up and down his bare torso, Tom smirking between the kiss as he felt you run it over his toned abs. You bit his bottom lip as a warning to not be cocky, earning a deep groan from him, his hand coming down your thighs to give them a firm squeeze, the temperature in the room only getting higher as the clock ticked by.

But before any of you could take it a step further, a loud knock echoed itself on the whole trailer. Both of you wanted to ignore it but a voice soon then followed. "Tom, are you in there?"

The boy groaned as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, the two of you completely forgetting where you are as of the moment. Tom took deep breaths to calm himself down, your fingers running through the back of his head, playing with his hair as you did the same.

Once Tom caught his breath, he spoke, a hint of annoyance coating his voice. "What is it Harry?"

"They're looking for the both of you."

Tom sighed, propping himself up to look at you fully, beautiful face all flushed and he couldn't have seen a more gorgeous sight. "Be out in a minute." He called out, never letting his eyes off of you as if you'll disappear if he does, even for a split second. You didn't dare to move nor let out a single word. You just stared right into his eyes, so many emotions swimming in them but one that made your heart grow is the clear look of love, and for once, you felt safe under his gaze, safe and home.

"Come home with me tonight?" Tom asked shyly, fingers tracing your jaw in a loving manner. You thought about it for a second, all the doubt suddenly rushing back to you along with your brain just yelling at you to be extra careful, and you knew you just had to clear your head first before jumping right in the deep end. "Tom, I think I need to thin–"

"I know darling, I know. But please, just give me tonight. After that, I'll give you all the time and space that you need." You sighed knowing fully well you can't ever resist him, closing your eyes for a moment before nodding. A breath of relief escaped Tom's lips just as he presses it back on yours, but this time it was soft and sweet, kind of like a reassurance that he will be right here until you fully take him back, no matter how long that would take.

Tom unwillingly pulled away before things get heated again, standing up fully as he grabbed his shirt off the floor along with his jacket and slipping it on. He turned back to you with a sweet smile, offering both hands for you to take, interlacing your fingers in his once you did.

"Come on, we've got some explaining to do."

-:-:-:-:-

Like & Reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think! <3

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loominggaia · 3 years

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Fanfiction: New York (part 8)

Anon uploaded part 8 of their New York fanfic! You can read the other parts under the fanfic tag.

Posted under the cut:

The morning arrived, the crew waking up as Zeffer went to sleep. Day three of their hunt for Evan had officially began and the crew was beginning to realize this was gonna be harder then they thought. First off this city was HUGE!!! This New York place being much, much larger then any city they have ever been to before so their was a lot of places to search. The second thing and one they didn’t wanna think about is what if Evan wasn’t here? What would they do then? No. He had to be here.

The crew was gonna be here awhile, a long while they could tell and where gonna need food, supplies, a place to sleep that wasn’t some rat infested abandoned building. But in order to get any of that they where gonna one thing, money. They where not broke but may as well have been, GP was next to useless here so they where gonna need some of this earth money to get by. Zeffer told them before going to sleep he found somebody who could solve their id issue but it was gonna cost them big time.

But their was one thing above getting cash or finding Evan the whole crew was in desperate need of right now, a bath! Being unwashed for two days and sleeping in a old building filled with rodents had the crew smelling rather foul. Elska found a pond nearby during her search yesterday they could use and while they didn’t have any soap on them it was still better then nothing. It was decided that the Elska, Alaine and Jeimos would bath first, lukus and Issac after and Zeffer whenever he woke up.

Kimi woke up in her flat to the sound of her alarm, it was a work day and she had to get ready. Getting out of bed she got herself ready, the events of yesterday still fresh in her mind. Her meeting with those two foreign cosplayers had been all she could think about, it’s a real shame she couldn’t get a phone number or social media from either. She really wanted to see them again, especially that cute Alaine girl, and ask whether they found their friend or not.

Alaine, Elska and Jeimos made their way to the lake. Them stripping off their sweaty armor and hopping into the cool waters, hoping to soak off all dirt and filth. As Alaine plunged into the water she fully expected to feel the familiar sensation of changing into her aquatic form, the flash and light and feeling of her legs fusing into a tail. But as Alaine got her hair wet something strange happened, or should we say didn’t happen.

Alaine felt nothing? No flash of light, no leg fusion, not a single thing? She looked down in confusion to see she was still in her terrian form, a sinking feeling that something was wrong took over. She dipped the back of her head in deeper into the water, being sure to get all her hair soaked. Nothing. Her confusion turned more panicked, why was she not transforming? In one final test she dove under the water, fully submerging into the lake.

As Alaine dove under the water she waited for something, anything to happen but nothing did. Her tail and more pressingly her gills never emerged. For the first time since she was a child Alaine found herself holding her breath, unable to breath underwater. Her lungs burned and called for air, she frantically swam up to the surface desperate for air. Jeimos and Elska where at the shore washing themselves, not paying attention to Alaine diving. She was mermaid so they didn’t need to worry.

That illusion was burst as Alaines head busted up from the waters surface, violently coughing and gasping for air. That got the pairs attention as they made their way to Alaine, pulling her close to the shore. That’s when they noticed she wasn’t in aquatic form, but why? She was completely submerged a minute ago how does she still have her legs? Something wasn’t right and Jeimos had an idea on what it is, these thoughts having plagued them since they first arrived on earth.

Kimi made her commute to work, the trip being the same as every other day. Traffic, blaring horns, drivers screaming at each other from their car windows, same as every other day. Pulling into the hospitals parking lot a nagging thought crossed her mind, it being about the cosplayers missing friend. While she’s never seen a Mr. Evan Atlas as a patient that doesn’t mean someone else hasn’t. Just out of curiosity she’d ask around to see if anyone has a patient by that name.

After rescuing Alaine from near drowning they where now on the shore, Alaine visibly shaking and freaked out. She told them what happened and was asking why she hadn’t changed? Something was clearly wrong with her as this has never happened before. Jeimos told the two they had a theory but wanted to wait to tell the whole crew, it was something they all might want to hear. Drying off and getting dressed they made their way back to base.

“What do you mean theirs no magic”! The crew asked in unison. Jeimos clarifies to them that for the whole duration of their stay they have not sensed a single bite of magic here at all. At first they believed it was just due to being in an iron rich city but after seeing what happened to Alaine they now knew it was something else entirely. This earth place, it had no magic energy flowing through it unlike Gaia. To demonstrate Jeimos tried to cast a pyromancy spell.

Jeimos could cast the spell but instead of a huge jet of flames only tiny sparks came out. Even this alone took a lot out of Jeimos who staggered and started coughing. They explained that the lack of magic could explain why Alaine didn’t change into her aquatic form or why they didn’t find werewolf Evan their first night, theirs not enough magic surrounding them to fuel their change. This didn’t bode well for Jeimos and Zeffer, both being Fey and for Zeffer a vampire and thus reliant on magic.

The crew stopped their, they didn’t want to think about it. They didn’t want to think of what might happen to Jeimos or Zeffer if they stay too long or if they can even get home. The only thing they knew no whas they needed to amp up their search, find Evan and leave earth even faster. The crew split again to continue the search, back to the groups they had yesterday. Alaine was feeling rather stressed and anxious about this mornings events and needed to blow off some steam.

Alaine had a devilish idea on how to both blow off steam and get some quick cash. She turned to lukus and asked him if he felt like helping her do a little ‘hunting’. At the hospital the day was going by same as any other, new patients in various conditions flooding in, doctors and nurses rushes between rooms, patients or their families arguing with doctors over their diagnosis, the usual. Kimi was asking some of her coworkers if they have seen this Evan fellow with most saying no.

Still determined to see if this Evan guy passed threw here she decided to use her lunch to ask if they had a patient record for a Mr. Evan Atlas. If not then her suspicions could be put to rest. Lunch arrived and kimi did just that and reviewed patient records looking for any Evans. After going threw about 5 different names she found it! And what she found was a dead ringer for who those two cosplayers where talking about. Tall, beefy, blonde, missing a leg. It all checked out.

Kimi was also shocked to figure out this was the “Gaia guy” she was hearing about. Evan was in the over end of the hospital and currently in the psychiatric ward, a place she’s early ever stationed. While not directly seeing him her and her crew on this end did hear through word of mouth about a patient that had to be baker acted due to their delusions. Claiming himself to be a werewolf from some fantasy land where mermaids, centaurs and vampires are real.

Evan was sitting in his room, watching tv and eating bland hospital food like he had been doing for weeks. More reports of what people are now calling the “prosperity park centaur” have come flooding in, some teenagers claiming to have been attacked by it and even some blurry photos got taken. It frustrated Evan to no end, knowing his crew was here to rescue him yet having no way of letting them know he’s here. He heard the door to his room and say a nurse walk in.

Evan was confused? Nurses normally didn’t show up to clean for Atleast another 10 minutes? And he didn’t recognize this nurse either. She introduced herself as Kimi Wong and gave him some shocking news, she’d actually spoken to his friends! She actually spoke to Alaine and Lukus, also confirmed that Jeimos and Issac where on earth as well.

He was then disappointed to find out they where not in the hospital to see him, nor did this Kimi girl have a way of contacting them again. She apologized and told Evan the next time she sees them she will tell them where he is. While not exactly what he was looking for it help give Evan hope that he might soon get out of this miserable place and get back home.

This story just gets more and more interesting as it goes. Come in Kimi, I believe in you! Interesting to see the fae characters getting weaker without magic, I never even considered that myself. Can’t wait to see the next part. TO BE CONTINUED...?

#fanfic

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name-me-regret · 3 years

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If The World Was Ending 15/?

If The World Was Ending Chapter Fifteen: A Reason To Live

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“When I die, I wanna die with my Chucks on Pair of jeans and a shirt with MJ on I’m gonna die, yes, but I'ma live in style Time is golden don’t you waste a second Make the most of everything you’re getting Cause you’re gonna die too, so best you live in style

All I know Is I’m not giving up I’m gonna go Until my time is up…

When I wake up I'ma look in the mirror Take a look and see my vision clearer Oh I’m gonna give, my everything Went to church the other, Sunday morning Preacher told me ‘Put an end to the moaning Cause you’ve got a reason, a reason to live’...”

~Chucks - Mi Casa, Younotus

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

The man had literally an endless supply of ammo it seemed, since they had to continue to avoid being shot at from the grenade launcher, and he was still too close to the residential areas that Rhodes didn’t want to use his heavy artillery. Also, the police that had been following the assassin were too close. So, he stuck to repulsor blasts, but when they did manage to connect, didn’t seem to harm him that much besides some first or second degree burns. That wasn’t enough to take down the man that was clearly enhanced in some way, judging by the way he’d picked up his motorcycle and threw it at Buck with ease. The man wasn’t fast enough as he was slammed by the 400 pound vehicle, flying back as he tumbled across the ground. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone or anything around.

“That’s it, I’m putting him down,” Rhodes growls. Buck lifts his head and sees the man’s suit shift as a missile comes out of his shoulder as well as his mini-gun.

Buck wants to stop him, because he didn’t want him to kill anyone regardless if the other was trying to kill them. Before he could, Rhodes is unleashing the missile and then the mini-gun when the assassin dodges the projectile. As he was dodging the bullets, Buck saw his opportunity and stood, flew to where the motorcycle was at. He took hold of a flash grenade JARVIS provided that was apparently part of the armor’s arsenal. He attaches it to the motorcycle and then was amazed as he was able to lift it, and started to swing it around and then let it go in the man’s general direction.

As expected, he was able to dodge, but he wasn’t expecting the flash grenade which exploded close enough to knock him off his feet. This wasn’t the movies so the motorcycle didn’t explode, but the one of handle bars did rip the rest of the way off after the second throw though. Buck is already in the air moments after he throws the motorcycle, so he arrives as the Winter Soldier is starting to get up and kicks him across the face. It knocks the mask off his face, as well as quite a bit of blood from his mouth. Buck winces, but knows he doesn’t have a choice. War Machine is on them in the next moment, knocking into the man with all the strength of a battering ram as he had tries to stand a second time.

“Hold him down!” Buck quickly jumps forward and helps Rhodes, who forces the still struggling man onto his stomach. Rhodes puts a pair of heavy duty handcuffs on him, but it extended from the wrist all the way to his forearm. Their newly secured prisoner struggles but isn’t able to break out of them. “Good luck breaking out of that, buddy. It’s Starkanium.” He pulls his fist back and punches the man in the back of the head, finishing in knocking him out before he looks at Buck. His faceplate lifted as he gives him a grin. “Good work, Evan.”

Buck is breathing heavily, from exertion and the adrenaline coursing through him. His own face plate lifts and he grins back at the other, since that was the single most craziest thing he’d ever done. It was also the first time in a long time he’s worked with someone and felt trusted. “Thanks!” He swallows as he tries to regain his breathing back to normal. “And it’s Buck, by the way. No one calls me Evan anymore.”

Rhodes laughs and claps him on his armored shoulder. “Sure thing, Buck.”

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Bobby was very concerned, because Athena had called him a few minutes ago but she couldn’t really get out much from in between her sobs. So, a heavy feeling was quickly building in his chest and choking him; a feeling he was very familiar with. It was the same feeling from when he’d lost Marcy, Robert Jr., and Brooke. So, as soon as he managed to find a parking space —that may or may not end up with him getting towed— he’d jumped out and started to make his way toward the medical center. Before long he was jogging, and then running as that feeling started to build.

Finally, he sees his wife and there were tears running down her beautiful face, and slows to a stop as he reaches her. “What? What’s happened?” Bobby demands, wrapping his arms around her to try and offer some kind of comfort to the woman he loved. It was just, he was too freaked out to properly do so.

“Buck... his...” she tries to get out, thus further confusing Bobby. It was then she pulls away and hands him something that his heart dropping down through his stomach, because he recognizes it. He was holding the charred remains of Buck’s license plate.

Bobby suddenly realizes with a horrifying clarity that he had just lost another son.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Eddie zipped up the hoodie over his sweaty, battered body with a wince, since he had taken more body hits in order to not get punched in the face. It would be harder to explain away a black eye than hide a bruise to his stomach. And not for the first time, he wondered if he was making a big mistake, and then remembered the winnings that were burning a hole in his pocket and all he could do with it.

Originally, he had gone to the street fights to release his anger and forget about things that he didn’t want to think about. He didn’t want to think of Shannon and how she had left him twice, once by choice and the other unwillingly, and that she would have left him willingly anyways if she hadn’t died. And how pathetic that he was angry at a dead woman, even months after her death.

Then there was almost losing his son in the tsunami, and the one that had almost killed himself searching for him; and found him in the end. Buck. He was the one he didn’t want to think of the most, and the look on his face the last time they’d seen each other and Eddie had spewed hurtful words that weren’t true. And Eddie had never felt more like his father than in that moment, and he wished he could push the words back into his mouth so they could have never caused such a look on Buck’s face.

He was just angry, angrier because he couldn’t see him. Mostly at himself, because if he was being truthful, he had preached about all of them having problems and needing to suck it up, and when he had examined his words he realized he’d sounded like his father. His old man had always drilled into his head that he couldn’t whine about his problems, that he had to be a man.

‘No puedes llorar o te verás como un maricón. Aguántate como un hombre.’

You can’t cry or you’ll look like a faggot. Hold it in like a man.

It was those lessons that always reared their ugly head whenever he tried to deal with his own emotions. He knew it was because of this, the machismo taught to him by his father that his marriage with Shannon had failed. Also, because he hadn’t been there to help her when she needed him. That was also tied with it though, because a man’s job was to provide for the family and the woman to raise the children. It was wrong, of course, but it’s what he’d been taught growing up, and he had let it control him for so long.

Now, he was making the same mistakes all over again with Buck, even if he knew that their relationship wasn’t that of a couple. It wasn’t to say that he was adverse to the idea of them together, but he knew that Buck and Tony were together, and that was one of the reasons he had lashed out. That as well as that sleazy lawyer bringing up Shannon and reminding him all over again where he had failed.

As he got into his new truck, having made enough money to make a sizable down payment on it, Eddie turned on the A/C. His phone started to ring as he pulled out of the parking lot of the run down factory, and frowned when he saw that it was Bobby. He was wondering what he needed and hoped he didn’t need him to come in for an extra shift, since he wasn’t exactly in a position to do so. Besides, he had seen the man earlier at the end of their shift. The grocery run had been the last thing they did before they were finished, having to extend it because of the road rage incident in the parking lot.

“Hey, Bobby,” he greeted as his phone connected to his truck’s bluetooth. That’s another thing he loved about the truck, since he could answer his phone and not have to worry about taking his eyes off the road. “What’s up?”

‘Eddie,’ came the man’s choked voice, making Eddie immediately snap to attention. Something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?” His heart was already beating wildly in his chest, fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.

‘It’s Buck.’

Eddie felt his heart jump up into his throat and images of the truck bombing, the pulmonary embolism, and the tsunami coming to him so abruptly that he had to pull over before he has an accident. “What happened? Is he alright?” It didn’t even matter that he was mad at him at the moment, because in the end, Buck was Eddie’s best friend and would come running if he needed him.

‘He... his Jeep... you should come to Kaiser Medical Center on Sunset Blvd,’ he finally said, clearly unable to finish what he had wanted to say.

Eddie immediately swiped up on his screen to get his phone to the main menu and brought up his map amp as he found the complete address on there. “I’m on my way,” he told him before ending the call. Then he pulled away from the curve, hearing as someone blared their horn behind him as they had to stop when he pulled into traffic so suddenly. Eddie didn’t pay them any mind and floored the gas pedal, the feeling of dread building more and more the longer it took to get to where he needed to go.

When he was unable to get through due to emergency vehicles, he felt his heart stop in dread. “Buck,” he whispered, before he’s out of his truck and running toward the scene. When he gets to the police line, he can’t see much besides the red lights and black smoke of something manmade on fire, like a building... or a vehicle.

Eddie is suddenly under the police line before he knows what he’s doing as Bobby’s words echo in his ears. ‘It’s Buck. He... his Jeep...’ And also the last thing he said to him in that grocery store. The words that he didn’t mean, but had said them anyways.

‘Because you’re exhausting! We all have our own problems, but you don’t see us whining about it. No, somehow, we just manage to suck it up. Why can’t you?’ And Eddie hadn’t meant them, not really, he was just mad. Eddie was mad that he couldn’t speak to him, that Christopher was having nightmares and calling for Buck, and the man couldn’t contact them.

In that moment, none of that matters, and all he’s thinking and praying, is that Buck is alright. That if that’s his Jeep burning, then he isn’t inside of it. Because if he’s... If Buck’s...

He’s stopped by some officers as they try to hold him back. Eddie only doesn’t swing at them because he’s so desperate to get through and make sure Buck is okay. Then he hears a voice that makes him stop and he sees it’s Athena, and she saves him from getting arrested, again.

“Is it Buck’s Jeep?” he demands of her. Normally he wouldn’t ever speak to the older woman like that, but he needs to know. Eddie wants her to tell him that it isn’t Buck, and that he’s just being irrational right then. She shatters his world with her next words.

“Yes, it’s Buck’s Jeep.”

A strangled sob escapes him and she’s suddenly hugging him, and he’s never ever hugged or even touched Athena besides a brief pat on the shoulder. However, in that moment her arms are the only thing holding Eddie together.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Buck flight back toward Kaiser is much better than when he left it. He thinks he’s getting the hang of the suit, even if he didn’t really think it was a great idea. After all, even if JARVIS had said that Tony had built the suit for him, it couldn’t really be for him... surely not to keep. Buck can’t really think that he will. That’s just crazy.

He sees mayhem when he flies over the medical center, the lights of police and other medical personnel and he knows that he’ll have to answer for some of it. Rhodes had told him not to worry about it, since it was only a few damaged cars and a few minor injuries, but luckily no one died. He told Buck before leaving to secure the prisoner, that after the attack in New York, Tony had created the Stark Relief Foundation and that the destruction caused today would be covered by the Foundation.

Buck had of course heard about it but the day had been wild that he hadn’t really been thinking of that at the time. He also really hoped that meant he’d get his Jeep as well, since he had just gotten it back from the shop after the tsunami, and he needed his Jeep. It wasn’t the same one that his sister had given him, which had quit on him when he was six months into his probationary year.

The Jeep he had brought afterwards wasn’t the latest model, because he hadn’t been rich or anything. All that mattered was that it was a Jeep and he’d managed to keep the word JEEP from the one Maddie had given him and had it put on the dash. It and a few other things he had added to his new one, so it wouldn’t feel that much different. The damage had been extensive after the tsunami, but nothing that couldn’t be repaired, especially after the water had receded and the vehicle recovered. So, he hoped it could be recovered again this time.

Although as he flew over the parking lot and saw the remains of the Jeep, or what he assumed was the Jeep after being hit by the projectile from the grenade launcher, he was sure it wasn’t recoverable. He was only thankful that he hadn’t left his wallet in the middle console as he normally did when he drove. Then again, he had been trying to keep Tony awake on the way to Kaiser, so he hadn’t thought to pull his wallet out of his pocket.

His phone, however, had been in the console since his maps app had been guiding him to the medical center and had forgotten to grab it when Rhodes and the Rescue armor had arrived. So, it had likely been destroyed, and he wouldn’t be able to call anyone for a ride, or even order an Uber or a Lyft. There was no way he could take the suit back to his apartment, since his neighbors were still asking him about Iron Man, or Tony Stark, as if they weren’t the same person.

He could just imagine the gossip if he stepped out of a suit of armor of his own. Oh boy.

Buck was thinking about landing the suit on the roof where no one would see him leave it to check on Tony, but heard JARVIS’s distinct voice suddenly. ‘Mr. Buckley, there appear to be several police officer’s trying to get your attention from down below.’

“Shit... uh, what do I do? Should I go down there, J?”

‘It does seem to be a good idea to speak with the officers about what Colonel Rhodes has told you, Mr. Buckley. Although, if I may suggest, it would probably be better to keep the faceplate down. The Rescue Protocol was only a last resort, and revealing your face would paint a target on your back. It’s prudent to stay off HYDRA’s radar for now.’

Buck inhaled and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I can do that.” He started to pilot down, now a bit more confident that he can land now without causing anymore property damage. It’s a bit rough but not too bad, and two police officers are suddenly there, and he realizes that one of the has the Captain’s rank and the other is none other than the Chief of Police.

“Iron Man?” the Chief asks, uncertain.

Buck tried to will his voice not to shake as he opened his mouth to answer. “No, I’m not Iron Man,” he told him, surprised when his voice came out warbled like Tony’s does when he speaks without lifting the faceplate. He saw them wait for him to identify himself and he wasn’t sure what to say, and latched onto what JARVIS had called the armor. “I’m Rescue.”

He saw the reporters being kept back by the police lines snap pictures, their flashes lighting up the night along with the lights of first responders. Buck was a bit thrown that their cameras were aimed in his direction, but then again, he guessed he could understand. He did have on armor like Tony, and of course they wanted to know who he was. “Can you tell us what happened here, Rescue?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, clearing his throat and was glad that wasn’t heard since he didn’t want all of them to know how nervous he was. He was surprised as words started to appear on the HUD, and realized that JARVIS wanted him to read it. So, that’s what he did after he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “At proximately 5:47pm, Iron Man was attacked in a safe house by an assailant that has yet to be identified.” He wondered why the AI didn’t want him to say that it was the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to offer it up and decided to stick to what JARVIS had written for him.

“He managed to escape in a suit of armor that only had flight capabilities and met up with a friend, who took him here for medical treatment. However, his attacker followed him here and proceeded to attack myself and War Machine, who had arrived to offer backup.” He noticed that the ‘statement’ didn’t mention Buck’s name, which was just as well. “We left the area to prevent anymore destruction of the surrounding area, as well as the medical center. The assailant followed us from the ground and managed to cause destruction on a residential home. I was able to rescue the people trapped inside, who were a married couple and their daughter. Afterwards, War Machine and I were able to finally restrain our attacker. War Machine has gone ahead to secure the prisoner while I came back to see to Iron Man. The Stark Relief Foundation has already been informed of this incident and will be on both scenes within the hour.”

“So, Iron Man is inside the medical center receiving treatment at the moment?” the Chief of Police asked. Buck couldn’t remember the man’s name for the life of him, and JARVIS wasn’t giving him anymore information. He nodded instead of speaking again. “Then we shall provide a protection detail for him,” the man told him.

Buck refrained from breathing in relief and turned away from them. He hadn’t taken more than a step when he heard a shout and paused when he recognized the voice. Buck turned and saw three figures heading toward him through the police line; Athena, Bobby and Eddie. He froze, since he hadn’t expected them to be there. Also, he couldn’t really greet them as if he knew them, since there were too many cameras still pointed at them. He also wouldn’t put it past the news reporters to have microphones pointed toward him to try and capture something.

“Yes?” he said, his head tilted down when he saw Athena’s badge attached to her belt. “May I help you, officer?”

“I’m Sergeant Athena Grant, and the friend that helped Iron Man is also a friend of ours. We found the remains of his license plate and we want to make sure he’s uninjured.”

Eddie and Bobby looked like they were really trying not to interrupt her, the former’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was hard to make out the expression on his face due to the darkness, but Buck could imagine he was angry. “Sergeant Grant, this isn’t the place to discus these things,” he told her, trying to keep his tone neutral. Buck did not want them to know it was him and risk them revealing his identity. “I’m sure Dr. Stark will get in contact with you about... your friend as soon as he can.”

Buck’s gaze turned toward Eddie as he jerked forward, looking like he wanted to get into his face if not for the hand that Bobby had put on his shoulder to hold him back. “Where is he?!”

He looked at his best friend, not sure if he could call him that after everything that had happened, and wanted to say something. Buck wanted to wipe the angry expression he could see due to the suit, since JARVIS had turned on the night-vision. “I have nothing further to say.”

Buck turned and blasted off, leaving Eddie, Athena and Bobby behind.-

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

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jamielea81 · 5 years

Text

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 6

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing and some fluff

A/N: This fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome.

Word Count: 4,625

Catch up with Chapter 5

Laying in the guestroom of Chris Evans’ rental is one of the few places you’d never pictured yourself being. The décor was very hotel chic which made sense since it was rented out by a private owner with lots of turnaround. Best to keep things neutral rather than themed. The bed was soft and the linens were plush so you could not complain.

It was such a weird feeling to be in his space but not be with him. He was essentially somewhere in the condo and you were here. In a room. Doing your own thing. Or resting, or whatever. He had insisted. Who were you to complain about more sleep? Wasn’t like you could work. Chris confiscated your well used script and laptop once he gave you a brief tour of the place.

“If you’re in such a hurry to get back to work, you have to get better. No sense in tiring yourself out and being sick longer. That’s just more missed days.”

Damn him and his common sense.

You put your phone on the dresser that was located across the room from you before snuggling back on the bed. Out of sight out of mind.

Apparently, you did manage to sleep as your eyes slowly opened to a dark room. It felt colder although you aren’t sure if the temperature in the condo has dropped due to the setting sun or this mystery virus sending a chill to your bones. Either way you’re cold and you realized your error of not packing a sweatshirt. The sweater you had on was warm, but it was thin and not as cozy as you would have liked.

Getting out of bed, you ran your hands through your hair to tame it as best as you could. You shrugged on your coat that you left on the bench in front of the bed and made your way out of the room.

The TV was on ESPN or the like in the distance as you heard a list of scores for some sport or another. If you were being honest, your brain wasn’t all the way there, so you really didn’t care.

“Oh, hey,” Chris said, sitting up from is half laid down position on the couch. His eyebrows and forehead scrunched low in confusion. “You going somewhere?”

“I’m just kind of cold. Should have packed a sweatshirt or two,” you said, taking a seat at the end of the couch, your hands going into your pockets.

Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, walking to the hallway to check the temperature. “It’s seventy-two in here. Want me to bump it up?” he calls out.

“Seventy-two? Would have guessed it’s sixty.” You shake your head even though he can’t actually see you. “No. No, it’s fine.”

He comes back in the room stopping in front of you. Chris’ hand reaches down, hesitant at first, until his palm touches your cheek. Damnit if your breath doesn’t catch in your throat. He removes it quickly, touching your forehead with the back side of the same hand.

“You’re a…,” he licked his lips, taking a deep breath in. “You’re a little warm,” he said withdrawing his hand. “You need a sweatshirt! I’ll grab you one,” he shouted, practically running away.

Chris Evans was going to be the death of you. The two of you are friends but you can’t help but let your mind wander to that space that says maybe there’s something more. But this is your whole life. This is your career. You’re finally making enough money that you can actually put some away. You no longer have to sling beers to make ends meet. It’s a real adult job and now that you’re in your early thirties, it feels like what you need to do. So, what you need to do is stay focused. Besides, this whole feeling could be the fever talking.

Chris is suddenly in front of you again, apparently you had zoned out and didn’t hear him come back in the room.

“Red or blue?” he asked, holding a sweatshirt of each color in his hands.

“Can I see something in green. Perhaps a hooded number.”

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he chuckled, throwing the blue one at you.

Tugging off your coat, you slip the sweatshirt over your head while you assume Chris is returning the red one to his room. It’s warm and cozy and smells a little like him. Not that you’ve smelt him. You’ve just picked up on his cologne when he’s near you. Yeah, not weird at all.

Tucking your hands inside the sleeves to keep warm, you lift your feet onto the couch in a half laying half sitting position. Chris stops in front of you and gives you a small smile.

“What?” you asked.

“Looks nice on you,” he replied innocently enough.

Think about your fake fiancé, Y/N.

“Well then, I may just keep it,” you shrugged.

He plopped himself down one cushion away from you on the couch, his body bouncing a bit when he landed. “Well, duh. You got your germs all over it.”

Clanging noises from the kitchen woke you. Apparently, you had fallen asleep again, you just weren’t sure how long you were asleep. You eased your body off the couch and padded your way into the kitchen.

“Hello sleepy head,” Chris greeted you before turning back to the stove. “I made you some soup. Had to call my ma to get the recipe.”

How is this guy single?

“You called your mother for a soup recipe?” you asked, reaching into the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

“Course! You’re sick. Soup always makes me feel bettah.”

“What did you tell your ma?” you asked in the best accent you could muster.

“I told my ma that my friend was sick and I wanted to make her soup,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Do you tell your mother everything?”

“I do. So, watch yourself Y/L/N,” he replied with eyebrows raised, giving the pot another stir. “Go relax. I’ll bring you a bowl in a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, walking back into the living room and taking a seat on the couch.

Dinner actually ended up being quite good. Chris knew what he was doing in the kitchen, much to your surprise. You ended up eating two bowls of soup. Skipping lunch and sleeping all day apparently amped up your appetite. The warm broth helped warm your body, even if it was only temporary.

You tried your best to stay awake to visit with Chris. He was telling you stories about his family and from what you could remember, they sounded like a close-knit group. But this darn virus was keeping your energy level at zero. When you had dozed off on him twice, Chris ordered you to bed and you willingly went without complaint. You kept the sweatshirt on. Strictly for the warmth of course.

Knocking on the bedroom door woke you the next morning.

“Come in,” your groggy voice called. You were honestly too tired to get out of bed despite all the sleep you managed to get yesterday and overnight.

Chris walked in, sticking close to the door. “How are you feelin’?”

“I’ll live.”

He chuckled at your response.

“What?” you asked, voice coming out a little whiny.

“Just sound so cute,” he shrugged his shoulders. Your mouth dropped open. In shock? In protest? You weren’t sure. “You’re so stuffed up.”

He wasn’t wrong, but still. Cute? Pfft.

“Well, yeah. I’m sick.”

Damn. I really am stuffed up.

“Which is why I called you out for the day,” he said, walking over to the window and opening the blinds.

“Chris…”

“Y/N…”

“I can’t miss again. They’re going to fire me.” You were full on whining now.

“They’re not gonna fire you,” he said crossing his arms over his chest. “They don’t want sick people there especially since you interact with a lot of key people. I already called Monica and she’s fine. Just rest today. I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow if you do.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “But I want my script back. At least let me take pictures of my notes to send to Monica. You need all the help you can get,” you sassed.

“Smaht-ass. I do just fine on my own.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed. “Will you please get me my script? I promise to stay in bed while you’re gone.”

“Tuck that bottom lip away missy. I’ll get your damn script. You want breakfast too?”

You gave him a small smile. “I could eat.”

Chris came home in a grumpy mood and you had no idea how to cheer him up. If he was one of your friends back home, you’d be out for drinks, but you were sick. Not to mention, with the amount of cold medicine you were taking, mixing alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea.

After the initial door slam, you came out of your temporary room to see Chris sprawled out on the couch, leaving zero room for you. It was his house, what were you going to say? You took a seat on an upholstered chair across from him, crisscrossing your legs.

When he didn’t say anything after a few minutes, you started. “Bad day of filming?”

He let out a loud breath and ran his open palm down his face. “You could say that.”

“What happened?” you couldn’t help but ask. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Can we just watch some TV for a bit?”

“Of course,” you replied. You got up from the chair, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and dropping it on the ground. You eased yourself on it, grinding your butt into it to get comfortable.

“What are you doing?” Chris sighed out.

“We’re watching TV. I’m just getting comfy.”

“Get up here!” he said, sitting up straighter with one bent leg still on the cushion.

You pulled yourself up and settled into the couch, your legs curling up sideways. Your foot touched his and he pulled back.

“Sorry!” you squeaked.

Chris muted the TV and faced you. “No, I’m sorry. Keanu said something to me today and it’s botherin’ me.”

“What did he say?” you asked softly.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Chris licked his lips. “He thinks we’re too close. Said I’m too close to you and it’s not right.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked.

You honestly were dumb founded. What a weird thing to say to someone. What did too close mean anyway? You and Chris were friends and co-workers. You were the script supervisor so you worked closely with him daily.

Chris groaned. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “It’s cause you’re engaged.”

“That’s ridiculous.” The fingers of your right hand automatically finding the engagement ring. “I’m allowed to have friends. You’re allowed to be friends with non-single women.”

“Damn right I am,” he said more confidently.

“We’re adults. We’d know if we were crossing lines. Clearly we aren’t.” Chris nodded in agreement. “What brought that on?”

“Monica asked where you were staying. I told her my place and since Keanu was right there, he heard and brought it up to me as we were wrapping for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed out. “If I thought this would have caused problems, I would have made Monica deal with my sick ass.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about his opinion. It just bothers me that he thinks he has a right to interject.”

“Still…I don’t want to cause problems. Maybe I should just head back to the hotel.” You stood up and started to walk to your room. Chris jumped to his feet and was quickly right behind you.

“No. No. No. We aren’t doing that. There’s nothing wrong with you staying here,” he said to the back of your head.

You picked up your bag and put it on the bed. “Chris, it’s probably for the best. I was going back to my room tomorrow anyway.”

You grabbed the change of clothes you stored in the dresser bringing them over to the bed. Chris placed his hand over yours, stopping you from folding up the shirt.

“Just stay. Going is only going to prove his point.”

He was right. Leaving is pretty much admitting you staying there is wrong.

You grabbed on to his hand that was pressing down on yours and turned to face him. “Okay.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

You nodded your head and followed him back out into the living room.

Back on set the next few days, Monica avoided you as much as she could. She’d text you from ten feet away to ask a question, despite sharing a room with her at night. It was insane, but if it made her feel better, you’d put up with it. You were feeling 80% better. It was just that stuffy nose that didn’t want to leave your body.

Being around Keanu felt odd all of a sudden. You tried to act as you normally would, sharing a small joke or an anecdote about something you read, but it was hard to feel at ease. Now that you knew he was watching you, you didn’t know how to act around Chris. So, you did what you probably shouldn’t do. You avoided him. Of course, you couldn’t avoid him completely since you were working with him, but when he would find you on set, you brushed him off.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, catching you while on break.

“Better,” you answered simply enough.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Yep.”

This wasn’t going to work. The last thing you needed was the studio catching wind that something funny was going on. But Chris was your friend. Becoming one of your good friends over the last month. There needed to be a middle ground.

A week later you were feeling pretty damn guilty for keeping any conversations with Chris on the professional side. If he found you to chat, you made sure someone else was with you. Often pulling Monica or David into the conversation whether they liked it or not.

Y/N: Can we talk?

Chris: Now you want to talk? Should we text Monica to see if she wants to join us?

Yeah, you deserved that.

Y/N: I’ll bring cookies.

Chris: Where? And only because you’re bringing cookies. None of that sugar cookie crap either.

You decided on the coffee shop you been frequenting since coming to town, making a quick stop at a bakery along the way to pick up a couple of chocolate chip cookies for Chris. You picked out a two-seater table away from a group of college students that seemed to be studying.

Winter made it easier for Chris to blend in, but it was never hard for you to spot him. Not with that smile that always seemed to be on display when he saw you. Dark gray wool coat with the collar popped up, red scarf wrapped around his neck twice, and black shades on his face, he thought he was in disguise. You waved him over as soon as he walked through the door. He quirked his mouth at you, knowing he was easily spied. He held up his finger indicating he was going to grab a drink. You placed the package of cookies in front of the open seat so that they were the first thing he would see.

Chris walked over a few minutes later, removing the coat but keeping the scarf in place.

“Your cookies, sir.”

“I accept your bribery. For now.”

“Thank you. It’s my, “I’m sorry I’ve been an ass” apology,” you replied.

Chris gave you a frown, bringing his to go cup to his lips and taking a hesitant sip.

“I wouldn’t say ass, but…” You took a sip of your own beverage, waiting for him to continue. “Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong because if I’m being honest, I miss my friend.”

Now you really did feel like an ass. The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like he did anything wrong.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…Keanu’s comment really got to me. This is my first film with Stone Lite and if this goes well, my contract gets extended. If Keanu thinks we’re being unprofessional, who knows who else thinks that,” you replied, running your hand through your hair.

Chris nodded his head, a sullen look on his face. “I honestly don’t think they’re going to drop your contract because you and I are close friends.”

You debated about telling him your secret. He probably didn’t know about the studio’s unofficial hiring practices. But would he keep it to himself or would you find yourself without a job? You weren’t sure if this lie was something that was easily forgivable. It was starting to feel like not just a simple lie anymore. You shook your head out of your thoughts and attempted a smile.

“You probably right. I’m just being paranoid,” you said, deciding to keep your secret to yourself. “But maybe we keep our hangouts a little more private?”

Chris chuckled. “That sounds worse!”

You gasped but then chuckled, nodding your head in agreement. “Okay. Okay,” you said between laughs. “Not private, but maybe we dial down our friendship when we’re working. I mean obviously Keanu has a problem with it.”

“I don’t think we are doing anything wrong, but for your sake, I’ll keep our hangouts to myself. Does that work?” he asked, picking up his cup and taking a sip.

You gave him a genuine smile and nodded your head. “Thanks, Chris.

Chris and you did dial back a bit on the joking and hanging out on set. Most of your interactions were with other people around. It seemed to do the trick as Keanu and Chris seemed to ease back into their friendly banter and not another word was spoken over the next two weeks.

The small touches that the two of you generally exchanged were now absent and a part of you was missing it. Chris would laugh at something you would say and rest his hand on your forearm or shoulder. Now he’d shove his hand in his pocket or behind his back. When you’d discuss the script with him between takes, his hand rested on the small of your back. Now he’d cross his arms over his chest and leaned in. It was different, but respectful.

Chris no longer came to your cubical unless it were to discuss a scene that would be shot the next day. You missed your impromptu lunches spent at your desk. When the two of you did hangout, it was spent at coffee shops further away from the studio and your hotel. Uber and Lyft became your go to mode of transportation. Since Keanu and Chris lived in the same building for this film, you didn’t go back to Chris’ place much to your disappointment. Sometimes just watching a movie on a comfy couch was a lot better than doing so on your cheap hotel bed alone.

Filming was breaking for three nights and most of the crew were going home for the weekend. You were a tad bit excited to have the room all to yourself. You planned to do some sight seeing with your free time. Gastown, Chinatown, and Capilano Suspension Bridge Park despite it being winter were on your list.

Filming wrapped early in the afternoon and those not leaving until the next morning decided going out for dinner was something that should be done as a large group. You reluctantly let Monica drag you with her and two others in a Lyft headed across town to a restaurant that also served as a video game arcade. Your mind instantly went to an arcade with kids running around the space with sticky fingers, but you were pleasantly surprised to see it was an adult’s only atmosphere. Rather than ticket dispensing nonsense games, there were classic arcade machines such as Pac-Man, Ms. Pac-Man, Mortal Combat, and Super Mario Bros.

You weren’t drinking and no amount of peer pressure was going to make you budge. David bought you a drink and you quickly offered it to Lydia, one of the stylists. You grabbed a non-alcoholic drink called raspberry fizz from the bar. It looked like a fancy drink without the regret. The last thing you needed to do was drunkenly talk about your sex life again.

Chris mentioned he was coming tonight as his flight wasn’t until seven the next morning, but you hadn’t spotted him yet. Keanu was staying in town over the short break; his girlfriend Alexandra had already arrived in town for a visit. He had mentioned they wouldn’t be joining the group for dinner, but they would be by for a drink later.

Everyone sat down to order, deciding that game playing could wait until after dinner. Twenty minutes in to appetizers and conversation, Chris walked in with Maggie. They sat together at the far end of the table from you, where the only available seats were located. They looked cozy sitting close together, sharing whispers, and laughs. A small pang of jealous hit your heart. It was unexpected and for a moment you regretted not having an actual drink. He hadn’t mentioned anything between the two of them to you, but you knew of her crush on him. Besides, the two of you never really discussed your love lives besides the initial questions about Travis when you and Chris first started to get to know each other. Chris saw you starring in his direction and gave you a wave. You gave him a small smile and nodded your head before turning away. Next to you, Lydia’s in a conversation with Tim, one of the other actors, and you do your best to join in.

Your co-workers are drunk and with Chris wrapped up conversation with others, not to mention Maggie by his side most of the night, you’re ready to go back to the hotel. You bring up the Uber app on your phone and request a car. You look for David and find him in an intense game of air hockey. After he scores a point, you pull him into a side hug to say goodnight.

“You taking off already? I owe you another drink.”

“Give it to Monica. I’m good for the night. Say hi to the wife for me,” you replied as you backed away.

“Will do! See you next week,” David called a little too loudly. You were sure it was because the large number of beers he had already consumed.

You found your coat still hanging from the back of your chair at the table. You slipped it on and waved goodbye to Monica who only lifted her glass to you. You’re half way through the door when someone grasped your mitten covered wrist. Turning around, you were met with the blue eyes of Chris.

“Where are you goin’? Don’t talk to me all night and now you’re sneaking off?”

You allow him to pull you back into the warmth of the restaurant, checking your phone for the car with your free hand. Surprisingly Maggie isn’t next to him. You’re pretty sure it’s the first time she hasn’t been all night.

“I’m not sneakin’ off. You were busy,” you shrug a shoulder.

Chris stops pulling you once you reach your groups table, sitting down and starring up at you as you stand.

“Take a seat. Please.” You sigh but do as he asked. “I wasn’t busy. Always have time for you. Besides, I wanted to say goodbye since I won’t see you for a few days.”

“You looked pretty busy with Maggie tonight. Didn’t realize you guys were so close.” You couldn’t help yourself. You sounded pretty damn jealous and you would be over analyzing your words all night.

Chris scrunches up his whole face and blinks slowly once and then again. “With Maggie? She’s just a friend. Barely a friend. She needed a ride.”

“Well, Maggie thinks you’re hot. So…” You weren’t even drinking tonight so you had no excuse for your loose lips.

“That’s nice. But she’s a kid,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Not interested.”

“Okay then!” you replied a little too loudly. You take a peek at your phone and see that your car is here. You stand up quickly and hug him while he’s still seated. “My car is here. Gotta go!” Before he can even hug you back, your feet are moving. “Have a good few days back home!”

Chris texted as soon as you got into the car.

Chris: Well, goodbye to you too.

Chris: 😢😡

Y/N: I’m sorry! My Uber was here.

Chris: Trust me, there’s nothing going on with Maggie.

Y/N: It’s not my business. I’m sorry I brought it up.

Y/N: Safe travels!

Chris: Quit being a weirdo

Y/N: It’s all I know

Chris: That’s true. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Chris: Text me when you get back to your room.

Y/N: I will

The three days you had off were over far too quickly, although you did manage to hit the three tourist spots on your list. You also found a great Chinese restaurant that you wanted to eat at again a couple of more times before you wrapped in three weeks.

This week you were on night shoots again. The studio had rented out a book store and restaurant in a smaller town outside of Vancouver. Even though these were mainly interior scenes, both businesses needed to be closed in order to film.

Chris had wanted to grab coffee earlier in the day, but you and Monica had to be at the studio to meet with Hugh and his assistant to go over the two scenes filming tonight. Chris had been pretty quiet during his time off; you were pretty sure he was feeling guilty for his lack contact.

Monica and you had arrived early at the location to get situated and to match up the script with the interior of the restaurant. You were helping with wrangling the ten or so extras when Chris arrived already dressed for his scene.

“Welcome back to Canada,” you said walking up to him, Chris giving you a big grin. “Did you have a nice trip back home?”

“Always a good time when I’m home sweetheart. How about you?”

“Yep. Checked out Gastown and a couple of other places. It was nice to explore.”

“How’d Travis like it? First time here for him, right?” Chris asked.

You gave him a questioning look. “Travis wasn’t here.”

His eyebrows raised high on his head. “He wasn’t here? I thought that’s why you weren’t going home because he was comin’ here.”

“No, ah, he was working,” you quickly said.

Fuck! Why hadn’t I thought of that. Oh yeah, because you don’t actually have a freaking fiancé!

“He never visited you on set in LA, hasn’t visited here, you didn’t go home. Don’t you miss him?”

“Of course, I do, Chris,” you sighed. “It’s just hard when we’re both working. But, uh, he’s coming to visit for a couple of days next week.”

Why did I say that?!

Chris slapped a hand down on your shoulder. “That’s great! Look forward to meeting him.”

You gave him a smile and pointed back to the group of extras with your thumb before turning away from him. Grabbing your phone out of your back pocket, you quickly typed out a text to Travis as you walked away.

Y/N: I need a favor.

Chapter 7

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#chris evans #chris evans fan fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x you #chris evans reader insert #chris evans x y/n #cevans #just a simple lie

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

Text

Psycho Analysis: The League of Evil Exes

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is one of the greatest cult classics of the 2010s for a wide variety of reasons: it had great performances, it got a video game adaptation that didn’t suck, it had an awesome soundtrack, and best of all, it apparently ruined an entire generation of women! What couldn’t this movie do (besides make a profit at the box office)? Of course, more than anything, this movie delivered on the promise of its premise by having Scott Pilgrim fight against the seven evil exes of his manic pixie dream girl Ramona Flowers.

That’s right: There’s not one, not two, not three, but seven villains to talk about in this movie!

Thankfully, this massive amount of villains makes it a lot easier to talk about them, because each of them basically gets only a single scene with which to establish their characterization and deliver a fun, exciting battle. Still, it’s pretty interesting to look at them, especially since not all exes are created equal. As a note, I’m obviously not doing a “Best Scene” for these guys because... they basically have one scene each. It would be redundant.

Motivation/Goals: The League of Evil Exes has a very simple goal: to control the future of Ramona’s love life. As Lucas says during his battle with Scott: “The Seven Evil Exes? Coming to kill you? Controlling the future of Ramona's love life?” This is especially funny because Lucas is probably the least evil of the lot. While this is an incredibly simple motivation, it fits with the tone of the movie; this is a sort of a Bowser-esque motivation, one that perfectly fits a movie that is so steeped in video game culture.

Performance: Lets go one by one here:

Satya Bhabha is the first of the evil exes, Matthew Patel, and he really eases you into what to expect for the rest of the evil exes, though here “eases you into” means “grabs you by the balls and swings you over the head like a chimpanzee.” Despite his meager screentime, he makes the most of it, delivering a Bollywood-esque musical number complete with fireballs and demon hipster chicks and generally just hamming it up. This right here is just a warmup, though, because things get crazier from here – just like in a video game, really.

Lucas Lee, the second evil ex, is a big-shot movie star regarded as a pretty good actor by all who see him. Unfortunately, they got some unknown weirdo named Chris Evans to play him, but casting this obscure indie actor certainly paid off, because Lucas Lee’s smug, over-confident portrayal combined with his affable nature make him one of the most enjoyable characters in the movie. He really comes off as a cool, cocky guy who just happens to be going up against our hero as opposed to being an actual antagonizing force.

Todd Ingram is the other best evil ex, and much like Lee it’s mostly because he’s a pretty nice guy. However, the key difference is while Lee was cocky and affable, Ingram is just kind of a ditz. Played by one-time Superman Brandon Routh, he opts to go for the more subuded route, a cold ham as opposed to a large ham, and he definitely makes it work; I did call him the OTHER best evil ex, after all.

Then we come to Roxy Richter, played by Katara herself, Mae Whitman. She’s a very angry, tomboyish lesbian who gets in a lot of great lines and shows off a very jaded, irritated personality in her limited screentime. She’s definitely a lot of fun, though apparently she has a lot of elements of Envy Adams due to being combined with an early idea to make her Ramona’s evil ex in the movie.

The Katayanagi Twins. Ken and Kyle, are… nothing. Because Keita and Shota Saitou (Kyle and Ken, respectively) did not speak English, the twins have no lines and don’t really get to establish much of a presence before dying. It’s a bit unfortunate, because it becomes really easy to forget these two are here as a result.

Gideon Gordon Graves is a smarmy, smug, condescending jackass. You have met a man like him before, and you have wanted to punch his face in. Jason Schwartzman really amps up the sleaze when playing this creepy, controlling bastard, making him a fitting final boss.

Final Fate: Each and every one of them is defeated by the end of their scenes, bursting into progressively larger amounts of coins, with Patel being pretty meager in terms of value and Gideon literally making it rain when he’s defeated. It does kind of feel weird that the twins are worth more than a beloved actor like Lucas Lee, or that Roxy is worth more than both Lee and a musician like Ingram, but frankly this isn’t really a movie where you should be overthinking stuff to begin with.

Best Quote: I don’t think I can really say Patel or Gideon have amazing, quotable lines to the extent as some of the others, but I’d be pretty remiss to not mention Todd’s legendary “...Chicken isn’t vegan…?” and Roxy’s equally legendary “Well honey… I’m a little bi-FURIOUS!” here. Lucas Lee has a lot of good lines but he’s quite frankly too consistent for me to pick one; Chris Evans really just went all-out for this one.

Final Thoughts & Score: Once again, let’s go one by one:

Matthew Patel

Matthew is the definition of a warmup boss, at least by the standards of this film. He brings a lot of insanity to the table all at once, what with his demons and Bollywood musical number and sick dance moves, but the fact he’s probably not the most insane and baffling character in the film really tells you something. He definitely makes the most of his screentime, and while his fight is relatively short, it’s a lot of fun. This man deserves an S-L-ICK 8/10.

Lucas Lee

Lucas Lee is probably the second best evil ex in the movie. He’s just so cocky, arrogant, and hilarious, and he still manages to come off as a bit polite. Its like if Captain America and Ransom Drysdale had a baby, Lucas Lee would be it. The fact he’s played by a pre-superstardom Chris Evans really is the icing on the cake here though, because his battle is fun and ends with Scott defeating him by playing into his arrogance. Ah! But he didn’t get his autograph… Oh well. Lucas Lee is an easy 10/10.

Todd Ingram

As much as I love Lee, I have to say that Todd easily has the most impressive fight in the entire film, in large part due to his awesome psychic powers he gains from being a vegan. I gave one of his legendary quotes up there, but frankly, the entire battle is awesome and quotable, the fact that at least half the battle is a rock-off is great, and the fact Scott tricks him in the most stupidly amazing to defeat him and put him at the mercy of the Vegan Police is just amazing. There’s also just the sheer novelty of how, with the power in hindsight, we got to see Superman (Routh) dating Captain Marvel (Brie Larson portrayed Envy, Scott’s ex and Todd’s girlfriend and bandmate). Todd is just a perfect, lovable idiot villain, and deserves nothing less than a 10/10.

Roxy Richter

Roxy actually gets to show up twice in the film, getting a brief scene with Scott a while before her identity is revealed. While her screentime doesn’t really amount to much, it really is incredible how much characterization they managed to pack into her limited screentime, her dialogue really selling how she is easily the most bitter and angry off all the exes. She seems genuinely hurt at some points that Ramona left her and considers her just a phase, though this of course doesn’t stop her from trying to ruin her life. In a weird way, I’d almost call her the most complex of the exes, and Mae Whitman does a great job at selling her. I will say though, despite her fight scene being filled with some of the best dialogue in the film (which is saying a lot, mind you), the overall fight is a little lackluster, and Ramona getting in makes it reek of “designated girl fight.” Still, there’s nothing so egregious about her that I’d give her anything less than a 9/10.

The Katayanagi Twins

These two, quite simply, suck. They get absolutely no characterization, they get no dialogue due to the actors not speaking English, they get no personality. They are, quite simply, just there, and they are just there because Scott needs to fight a fifth and sixth ex. There’s really not much to say here except that their fight scene is admittedly pretty cool and it’s fun to imagine how the hell their relationship with Ramona worked. Did they date her one after the other? Were they in a weird poly relationship? Did they both just spitroast her on the weekends? For those two things I’ll save them from the very bottom of the barrel and give them a 2/10.

Gideon Gordon Graves

Gideon is a smug, evil, controlling creep for sure, and he is the final evil ex Scott must face. But the thing is, he kind of doesn’t feel any more wieighty than any of the others? Gideon is for all intents and purposes the final boss, and while he does get a little buildup, it all comes in the final acts of the film. It certainly doesn’t make him a bad villain – he actually manages to temporarily kill Scott, and puts up more of a fight than any of the others – but considering how awesome Todd, Lucas, Roxy, and Matthew were in style and personality, Gideon kind of comes off as underwhelming. Yes, he is definitely the most evil of the exes, but he just doesn’t really have the “WOW” factor the others do. He’s an 8/10 for sure.

Well, I guess that’s it, that’s every villain in the mo-

Wait?

What’s this?!

Psycho Analysis: Nega Scott

…

youtube

#Psycho Analysis #Scott Pilgrim #Scott Pilgrim vs. the World #The League of Evil Exes #Matthew Patel #Lucas Lee #Todd Ingram #Roxy Richter #Katayanagi Twins #Gideon Gordon Graves #Chris Evans #Mae Whitman #Brandon Routh #jason schwartzman

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sloppy-butcher · 5 years

Note

Whats your hcs for Frank, Evan and Herman?? They are my 3 loves so im curious... (love your work ya poes

how old are you sir? I must ask to see ur ID. a babey can’t be using language like that >:(

anyhow, the 3 boys eh? I’ll gladly write anything for them uwu. I’m going to be doing general relationship hc’s so things will probably get fluffy and maybe a little angsty. i can’t help myself sometimes. I’m going to try include one NSFW hc for each of the 3 stooges, so be prepared. it may be bad. the reader will be left as ambiguous as possible

edit: i write way to much :/ i think i should only do 1 or 2 character requests from now on T_T

hope you enjoy!

General relationship HeadCanons

The Legion (Frank Morrison)

With Frank, there was no real start to your relationship. There was no moment in time, no exact, pinpoint instance when one could say that that is when you two starting everything. It kind of just happened. Maybe it was when Frank first kissed you, it felt like fireworks and the snow in Mount Ormond was no longer cold. Or maybe it was when he first saw you dancing along with Suzie to one of her favorite songs, the twirling of your feet mixed with perfectly timed head slams dazzled him and he wanted nothing more than to have you give him a private dance. In the end, these are all speculations and the truth may never be known.

Around others, he was hesitant to show his emotion. You two could be sitting right next to each other your thighs all but alined when out of nowhere Joey sticks his head in. Frank snaps like a mousetrap, retreating back away from you as if he was embarrassed. You confronted him about this, you told him everything’s okay and that no one would judge him for being human. He refused you and, not to lie, it really hurt. But one day, just as you were walking away you felt his hand snake its way into yours. He hesitated for a moment, afraid you might reject him but of course, you gladly wrapped his hand in yours. You heard Joey wolf-whistle from somewhere behind you and Frank very enthusiastically tossed a middle finger at him. You couldn’t see it, but Frank was blushing under his mask.

Franks, not a romantic guy so don’t expect flowers or gifts or really anything nice. He grew up with virtually nothing so the idea of wooing someone with items of material affection is very foreign to him. He believes that if his presence and physical affection aren’t enough to prove to you that he appreciates you, then nothing will. But you never cared about gifts. All you ever wanted was Frank and he couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought.

!NSFW! Frank was a pretty vanilla guy. He doesn’t have much experience when it comes to the department of extremely intimate affection and therefore knew literally nothing about the pleasures of the flesh. But the keyword here is ‘was’. After meeting you and your guiding hand he blossomed into a very wild and very hungry individual. His favorite position though is when he gets to look at you. And if you call his name he will instantly crumble. Afterward, or during the act you need to reach out and caress him. Touch and explore his body, mainly his face and he’d moan even louder. Your hands are so soft and gentle and when you touch him he floats with elated glee. He feels alive when he’s with you.

The Doctor (Herman Carter)

You would have to be extremely special or out-of-the-ordinary in order to catch the eye of the Doctor. But somehow you managed to do it. Herman was a man unhinged, incapable of empathy and compassion. He never looked at other humans as people with feelings and conscious ideas and thoughts. He only ever saw them and you as test subjects. But something about you was off. You did something that made this machine of a man halt in his pursuit of human torture. What exactly did you do? Well, nothing really. As he approached you, electrical energy between his hands flexing and growing ready to turn your brain to mush, you never screamed, never flinched away and never took your tired eyes off him. The first few times when you welcomed death he didn’t notice and it was only after a significate amount of encounters that finally Herman realized he had never heard your cries of fear and pain.

He would amp up his power when he would find you in trials. He would kill you much more violently than he would the others, make your liquified brain ooze out your ears and make your heart stop and start like a busted old car. Sometimes he would even through away the whole trial upsetting his boss greatly, just to get to you. But no matter what he did, you never offered him what he wanted. You had seen and experienced much worse than him and when death never gives you a release, torture becomes mundane and repetitive. When Herman finally understood that you weren’t afraid of him, he relented, snuffed out his power and walked away. He had his attention now.

Whenever you would visit him during off-time he would follow you as you wandered around the massive mansion known as Léry’s. Sometimes he would lead you, taking you to the rooms which he liked the most (operation rooms). Herman can not talk, the contraption in his mouth has stretched his lips to the point that they can no longer function and his voice box is beyond repair, damaged thanks to his constant flow of electricity that would otherwise kill a man. But he doesn’t need to talk to you. You always seem to know what he wants without hearing a single word.

!NSFW! Sex with Herman is out of the question. The man is pumped with endless volts of electricity and if you were to so much as touch him, your body would recoil and spasm painfully from the contact. If you ever wanted to experience pleasure from or with the man, he would have to try rein back some of that overflowing energy. But the man is too prideful and would never dare try to cull some of his ability. Unfortunately. But maybe after some time, he might learn to listen. There is no time in the Fog, only eternity and humans were never meant to live for that long. Our minds dull and our intentions warp from the time spent existing and maybe even someone as mad and determined as Herman could learn that it’s not so bad to let others into his life.

The closest you could ever get to kissing Herman is probably just planting a soft peck on his cheek. A dangerous move considering the possible consequences of actually touching him with such a sensitive part of you, but a risk you were willing to take. One day, however, in the silence and fog of the mansion Herman would reach out for you. He would lean down to your height and very slowly take your hand. There was no static shook when your skins met. He was telling you that he was calm. He would then guide your hands to his mouthpiece and he would tell you to take it off. Delicately you would peel away the metal from flesh and his mouth would furiously bleed and dretch his teeth with red. When he was free you would quickly meet him and you would hungrily kiss his chapped lips. He would kiss you back, his lips unable to keep up with yours but his tongue is wild and eager. However, after only a minute he would shove you away violently. As you feel the connection between you two break, the space around Herman lits up and crackles with mad energy. You would have to wait for him to calm down again if you wanted to continue your endeavors.

The Trapper (Evan Macmillan)

Despite being one of the most diligent and consistently brutal killers in the realm, when Evan is alone and the only eyes watching him are yours, he is a gentleman. He would speak to you softly, asking about your day already knowing that it was pretty shit. He would hold doors open for you and he would always make sure you were warm, either with a spare blanket or a seat extra close to a fire. He would fuss over you. Your soft skin, so clean and pure, untouched by the horrible and evil ways of the world made him marvel at how human you were. To him, you were what humans were meant to be, good and kind, whereas he was a monster charred and broken, unworthy and incapable of affection and of all those things that were meant to make life wonderful. He wanted to protect you, preserve that softness of you and although he couldn’t do anything to help you when the camera’s all turned back on, during this time he would smother you with whatever cautious and motherly behavior he could muster.

He was drawn to you because of your confident behavior. He found your energy alluring and would always find himself somehow infected by your hope and optimism. You were like a fire, burning everything in your path and he just happened to be close enough to catch alight. In the beginning, Evan would become very annoyed by your seemingly endless ideas of survival but as time went on and you never seemed to dampen like the others he found that his annoyance turned into curiosity. A part of him wanted to know what it was like to be under your light of hope. It yearned to be rescued but a bigger and much louder part of him, a voice oddly resembling his fathers, drowned it out. However, that didn’t stop his feet from walking towards you and it certainly didn’t stop you from staying with him.

In the early stages of your relationship with the mountain of a man, you had to the one initiating affection. You had to be the one to reach out and grab his hand. He would look down at you and you swore you could hear him gasp. And when you would want to hug him, you would either have to wait until he sat down or you would have to climb atop a box. It’s not that he was afraid to reciprocate your feelings, he just felt like he didn’t deserve it. He tried to remain stone-cold and distant hoping that it would detour you and make you give up on him but you weren’t known for ‘giving up’. Eventually, when you refused to leave and he had to accept that you wanted to be with him, all you needed to do for a hug was open your arms wide and beckon him closer with your hands. He would roll his eyes and very stiffly lean down for you. You would eagerly wrap yourself as best you could around his neck and, if you were laughing or in an infectiously good mood, he would engulf you in his own. Sometimes he would even stand up and sweep you off your feet. He would bury himself into your neck, trying his best to smell you through his bone and metal mask.

!NSFW! This has been said many times before but Evan has handles. Those large pieces of metal piercing his shoulders and down his back. It scared you at first when he suggested you hold onto them, they looked so painful and the skin around the puncture wounds were all puffy and red. He reassured you and explained that he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore. When he said that you looked at him confused then, without thinking, you lean forward and gently place a kiss on the wound. He tries to watch you as you trail butterfly kisses over his exposed chest. “Feel better?” You ask pulling away for a moment. He couldn’t respond, his throat welling up with shook, disgust and absolute fascination. You clearly didn’t care about what he looked like, what kind of monster he had become, and it gave him so much more confidence. Hold on to his handlebars, pull and yank them as he thrusts into you, he likes to feel your weight vibrate through the bars into his ribcage. Evan enjoys the feeling of control he gets when he is the one giving you pleasure and also foundation.

BONUS! Drag your tongue along one of the bars. Make sure his eyes never leave you and when you finally lick the whole length of the metal, plant your lips firmly on his mouth. He will kiss back passionately, amazed at how dirty someone so pure and good like you could be.

#dead by daylight #dbd imagines #dbd the legion #dbd frank morrison x reader #dbd the Doctor #dbd herman carter x reader #dbd the trapper #dbd evan macmillan x reader #this is too long #but i love you #ask

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Take a Chance - Ch 2 First Concert

She wasn’t here because she wanted to see him again. He lived at Juleka’s, she could probably see him any time if she really wanted to. She was here because she was curious about the music and because Alya was always jumping to conclusions. As if he didn’t invite everyone he met to his concerts, what musician wouldn’t.

(“You said he said ‘I’d love to see you there,’ and that is not the same thing as ‘come hear my band, tell your friends.’”)

“So which one is he?” Alya yelled into Marinette��s ear.

“Guitar, on the left. Blue hair,” Marinette yelled back.

Alya pulled back and eyed Luka up and down. She grinned back at Marinette and though Marinette couldn’t hear the word she saw Alya mouth “Nice!”

At least it didn’t matter that Marinette was blushing in the multicolored lights flashing through the club. Luka did look good, clearly into his music, and clearly able to work his considerable stage presence. His playing was amazing, or at least, Marinette thought so. She didn’t know enough to say for sure, but the speed of his hands and the clarity of the music certainly impressed her.

Alya nudged her in the ribs with her elbow, reminding Marinette to blink. Then Alya grabbed her arm and hauled her close again to scream, “He’s looking for you, girl!”

Marinette’s eyes shot back to Luka. She hadn’t noticed before, fixated as she had been on his hands, but every now and then he looked up and scanned the crowd. There was no way he was looking for her, though, in all these people. They’d only met the one time, and yeah, they’d talked for more than an hour, but that didn’t mean, and even if it did, could he even see through the lights?

Alya must have been thinking the same thing, because she grabbed Marinette’s arm and started hauling her straight across the crowded dance floor towards the small throng of people in front of the stage. The bassist was starting a solo just as Alya elbowed them a spot. Luka was looking around again, over their heads at the moment, and then he looked down and straight at Marinette.

Their eyes locked and Luka’s face lit up with a lopsided smile and suddenly Marinette couldn’t breathe. Alta jostled her triumphantly and Marinette didn’t need to hear the bellowed “I told you so,” that came with it.

***

She came. Luka was so preoccupied with the thought that he nearly missed his cue. Jean slapped his shoulder mock-casually just in time for Luka to snap out of it and come in only half a beat behind. He was going to catch hell about that later, especially if Jean had noted the source of his distraction.

He didn’t care, because she came. Luka took that extra shot of adrenaline the sight of her had dumped into his veins and channeled it into his music, trying not to look at her again until he had his head in the game. He slipped up when he had to pause to adjust the microphone in front of him for a song where he did background vocals. She was looking at him so he flashed her a grin, and got a shy smile in return. The next moment he glanced over to find Jean smirking at him and knew he’d been caught.

“What the hell, Luka, you’re on fire tonight.” Evan grinned and offered him a fistbump as they came down off the stage for their break.

“Yeah?” Luka replied casually, raising his fist to meet the drummer’s and trying to pretend his knees weren’t a little weak from the rush.

“He’s got someone to impress out there tonight,” Jean grinned, hopping on the wobbly table in the makeshift green room with a bottle of water in his hand. “I saw you looking. Is it the cutie in pink or the curvy brunette? They were so close together I couldn’t tell.”

Luka considered his options, decided denial wouldn’t help him, and sighed. “Pink,” he admitted, and Evan, Simon, and Jean boys whooped and whistled. “Look, we just met,” he said as evenly as he could, digging in their cooler for some water. “I didn’t even know she was going to be here tonight.”

“But you were hoping,” Jean sing-singed. “You were looking for her.” He slid off the table and lightly punched Luka’s shoulder as he walked by. “Don’t sweat it, bro, we got your back.”

Luka frowned. “We’re gonna go play, and then I’m gonna go talk to her, and Jean, I swear if you make her uncomfortable—“

“Relax, relax, Luka, I know your style. We’ll just let your music do the talking, right?”

Luka eyed him suspiciously. “What are you plotting?”

Simon snorted. “As if Jean could ever come up with something complicated enough to be called a plot.”

“Man, we’re just excited for you. We thought you were married to your guitar,” Evan joked.

Luka pressed his water bottle to his hot face and reflected longingly on the days when he was the oldest member in the band and not the youngest. He’d taken a little flack for playing with Juleka’s friends back in the day but at least they respected him.

***

“Look, they’re coming back,” Alya nudged her. “And he’s still looking at yoouuuu…”

The lead vocalist stepped up to the mic, pulling it off the stand. “Alright, we’re back and we’re pumped up to go. How about we take some requests from the crowd? Let’s see…” He paced for a moment and then crouched at the edge of the stage right in front of Marinette. “How about you, sweetheart? Anything you’d like to hear?” Marinette’s eyes widened, and she stammered for a moment. “C’mon, don’t be shy,” the singer coaxed.

Blushing furiously, she named the first thing she could think of, which happened to be her favorite Jagged Stone song. “Oof, Jagged Stone.” Jean grinned and looked up at Luka. “That sounds like a challenge to me, Couffaine, you up for it?”

Luka tossed his head, flicking his bangs out of his eyes, and grinned at his bandmate. “I can kill it if you guys can keep up.” He looked at Marinette and winked. “Good taste, babe.”

Marinette buried her face in her hands and then in Alta’s shoulder. Alya patted her back comfortingly, and in the lull Marinette could hear her say teasingly, “It’s okay, ‘babe.’ Just relax and enjoy having a hot musician play just for you.”

“It’s not for me,” Marinette whined.

At that moment Luka began to play, and Marinette lifted her head from Alta’s shoulder in surprise. The familiar opening rang beautifully out from the amp speakers, and when she looked up at Luka, he smiled at her like she was the only one there. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but somehow that charisma he had shown before was toned down and focused. Not on me. It can’t be for me, that’s just… She pressed her hands to her chest over her pounding heart.

He was good, she realized. He was really good. He had his own style that made the familiar song sound just that little bit different. He didn’t try to copy Jagged Stone’s frenetic approach, he was...smoother. More relaxed. It made for a subtle alteration in the tone of the song that she didn’t at all dislike.

Well...if Alya was right and he wanted to impress her...he was doing a really good job.

***

Their set was over and Marinette and her friend had stayed down by the stage the whole time. Jean grabbed his arm. “I got your stuff, man, just go talk to her before you lose her in this crowd.”

Luka glanced at the crowd in the club, made a split second decision, and sat down on the edge of the stage, hanging his legs over the edge. “Hey, Marinette, I’m glad you could make it.”

“It was great,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “You’re really good. I mean, the band is really good. And you, because you’re part of the band, uh—”

Her friend elbowed her. “Breathe, girl.”

Luka offered his hand. “I’m Luka, nice to meet you.”

“Alya,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m Marinette’s roommate, best friend, wingwoman,” she elbowed Marinette, “And occasional reset button when she gets too flustered to speak.”

“Sounds like a big job,” Luka laughed. “Well, I’m really glad you could make it tonight. So, can I—” he winced as the DJ took over the music and the noise level skyrocketed. Giving up on speech, he slid down off the stage and offered Marinette his hand, tilting his head toward the backstage door. Marinette only hesitated a moment before putting her hand in his. She wrapped her other hand around Alya, and he led them back to the little green room backstage. All three of his bandmates were grinning, and Nino, who had joined them, was looking between them all with a confused expression.

“Sorry, it’s not much, but at least we can hear each other in here,” he said as he held the door for her. “Uh, these are my bandmates, Evan, Simon, and Jean, and Nino here does our sound.”

Marinette gave a small wave as they chorused their hellos. Luka gave them a pointed look and everyone but Nino immediately became preoccupied with packing up their instruments. “So, we’re pretty much done here, can I buy you ladies a drink?”

“Actually,” Alya drawled before Marinette could answer, a finger tapping her lips as she studied the room. “I think I want...Nino to buy me a drink.” She cocked an eyebrow at the sound tech, whose eyes widened.

“Me?” he said stupidly. Alya raised the other eyebrow in a silent duh. “Well uh...yes ma’am,” Nino said with a slight shake of his head, getting to his feet among the hoots and whistles of the others with a flush on his face. Alya slipped her arm through his and practically dragged him back out to the club. “Have fun girl!” she called as she left.

Luka watched with some amusement, and then turned back to Marinette. “She’s ah, direct.”

Marinette made a slightly sour face and a helpless gesture. “That’s Alya.”

“Well, I guess it’s just you and me then,” he said as if his heart weren’t going triple time at the words. “Shall we?” He offered his hand. “Or, if you give me a minute to pack up my stuff, there’s a diner down the street that’s a lot quieter.”

Marinette grinned and did an adorable little bounce-wiggle. “That sounds great. I’m kind of starving, and I’m not really that into the club scene.”

Luka smiled back at her. “Me neither, honestly. I’m just here for the music.”

“Whoa,” one of the guys stage whispered behind him. “I’ve only ever seen him look at his guitar like that.”

Luka sighed and closed his eyes. “Please ignore them.” His eyes snapped open again when put her hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s nice to know I don’t have the monopoly on embarrassing friends,” she said with a giggle.

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

#quickspins #take a chance #backlog #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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nakedpersimmon · 5 years

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Samantha Juste Post #3: Been A Long Time Since the Party This week's final post honoring Samantha comes courtesy of a story shared by Chip Douglas. The parties hosted by Micky and Samantha in the '60s and early '70s are the stuff of legend, and the following anecdote proves no exception. With appearances by Ringo, George Harrison, Harry Nilsson, and more, the grace and class displayed by Samantha in the midst of (and following) such chaotic madness set her head and shoulders above the rest, and remind us why we'll miss her so much. With thanks to Chip for sharing this after Samantha passed in 2014.

“In the mid 1970s, I was living in Laurel Canyon across the street from my dear friend and singing buddy Henry Diltz. Micky and Samatha Dolenz lived down the road nearby, and I spent quite a lot of time with the two of them, as well as Davy and Linda Jones. The two couples were quite close in those days,and I was frequently invited to various gatherings, parties, dinners, screenings and so forth. There was one late night party I particularly remember.

One early evening, the phone rang, and it was Micky:

“Chip…Ringo, George, and Harry Nilsson are coming over! Could you stop by and bring some pot?”

I said sure, and my then-girlfriend Suzie–who had a set of false front teeth–and I hopped in the car as quick as we could and drove down to Micky’s place. We arrived before the celebrity guests did, but soon enough a couple of limos pulled up, and a small entourage consisting of Ringo, George, Harry, Mal Evans, Jim Keltner, Ravi Shankar’s son, and a couple of ladies and other friends came up the stairs into the house.

Remembering the reason I had been invited in the first place, I quickly rolled and lit up a doobie and handed it to George Harrison.

“Oh, no thank you,” he said.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, I tried passing it to a few others with no luck until it came to Harry, who was a friend of mine, and he said “Sure.”

I myself had a hit or two, and my brain began to go into producer mode. In those days, I carried my cassette recorder with me everywhere, and I thought to myself, I’ve got to find a way to get this gang downstairs into Micky’s recording studio, and get a jam session going.

Meanwhile, Suzie was going about the living room with her little pipe, offering everyone a hit of the dreaded angel dust (PCP). At one point, she offered some to George, who again said, “No thank you,“ this time followed by, “And, if that’s elephant dust, don’t give it to anybody I like.”

Harry Nilsson was always happy to try anything intoxicating that came his way, and he had more than a few hits as the evening progressed. Mal Evans was enjoying the stuff too, and Suzie would also have a little hit herself. For a little while, she and Harry and Mal disappeared to return to my house to get more of the ‘stash.’

Finally, at about 6:00 AM, after hours of watching people wandering about from room to room looking for something to be happening, or someone of interest to hang with, I heard that Ringo had gone downstairs to the studio.

This could be it! I thought, and made straight away for the studio.

There I found Ringo sitting alone at the drum set with sticks in his hands, playing a slow rock beat. I quickly grabbed the bass, turned on the amp, and started playing an R&B like riff to what he was doing. So after about 35 seconds of semi-grooving together without anyone singing any vocal, he abruptly stopped, plopped his sticks on the snare drum, stood up and said with a kind of grunt:

“Well ya can’t really get much going with just bass and drums-” and left the room.

Crap, I thought, that may have been the only chance for a jam at this party. The sun is beginning to come up, and pretty soon people will be leaving.

Imagine my joy, however, when a few minutes later Harry came down the stairs and sat down at the piano. Everyone else soon followed, and the jam session began.

Jim Keltner took to the drums, Ringo grabbed a tambourine, George was on electric guitar, Ravi’s son began strumming away on the acoustic, while attentively watching every move and chord his mentor George would make. I pressed the record button on my cassette recorder and proceeded to ‘get into it’ on the bass.

We all began following Harry and what he was doing. He was certainly well ‘dusted’ by this time, and the things that were coming out of his brain were definitely bizarre. He began playing in unusual time signatures like 9/8 and 7/4, which wasn’t exactly easy for everyone to follow, but nevertheless, the entourage had a strange avant-garde musical unity that seemed to continue.

We played on and on, while other normal folks in Laurel Canyon were by now having coffee and getting ready for work. After a while, Suzie, who had been sitting cross-legged but with her face flat on the rug, abruptly stood up and disappeared up the stairs. I remember thinking that I hoped she was all right, but I didn’t want to deprive the gang of a bass player by running after her to check, so I just kept playing.

After a while Ringo, who had been sitting on the floor in front of one of those large, puffy pillow chair-seats,began to nod out from the monotony and the tambourine sounds grew faint. Harry stopped eventually, too, and spoke:

“Rich, you still with us?”

Ringo with eyes closed and reclining on the pillow, raised the tambourine and jangled it sleepily.

The sounds of the entourage started up again. By this time, the tempo count was something that I’m quite sure no human has ever attempted to play before, and I noticed then that Micky, who had been in the control room of the studio all the while, was nowhere to be seen.

He soon returned and seemed concerned and agitated as he rushed over to me.

“Chip, you’d better get upstairs; Suzie is freaking out up there!”

Yikes,I thought. Now what?

I bolted up the stairs from the studio and Samantha grabbed me by the arm and led me over to the living room couch, which happened to be in a darker part of the room, underneath a small overhanging part of a loft above.

There I found Suzie swinging her head violently from side to side and saying “No, no,no, no, no, no, no, no,” repeatedly. It was a constant unstoppable stream of nos at the rate of approximately two per second. I had no idea what to do except to call out to her and try to snap her out of it. I picked her up in my arms and carried her out the door.

Around 4:30 PM that same day, she was still sleeping it off at my place when the phone rang. It was Samantha.

“Chip, could you come over please? I have something here for you.”

She sounded a bit stern and humorless. I got in the car and drove back down to the Dolenz residence. I walked up the steps and knocked on the front door. Samantha opened it directly and handed me what seemed to be a wad of several Kleenex tissues.

“Here,” she said. “It’s Suzie’s teeth.”

My heart skipped a couple of beats as I said thanks, turned and walked back toward my car.”

#Remembruary #Remembering Samantha Juste #samantha juste #monkees #1970s #micky dolenz #ringo starr #george harrison #chip douglas #harry nilsson #the monkees #holy god the '70s #bringin' the lolz #moral of the story: even if it's the 70s and you're surrounded by rock stars #DO NOT FREAKING DO PCP

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j-elaine-hyde · 4 years

Text

The Townie - Part 6 Cont.

Chris Evans / Reader

(Be sure to catch the beginning of Part 6 in a separate post!)

You jumped up off of the sofa. Panic coursing through you as you realized someone was at your door and you looked crazy and completely unpresentable.

You suspiciously walked to the door, peering through the peephole, praying it was Marki.

No such luck.

There he stood, a hopeful excited smile on his face, roses in hand. Again you felt the pang of panic.

He shifted the roses to the crook of his elbow and knocked twice. Rocking on his heels as he waited. Leaving the chain on, you slowly opened the door, standing behind it so he didn’t see you looking like a hot mess.

“Hey Chris! What are you doing here?” You tried to sound as sweet as possible.

“Hi. ...Can I come in? I wanted to surprise you.” He sounded unsure, internally questioning why you weren’t opening the door and welcoming him in.

“That’s so sweet! Could you give me like five minutes?”

“Uhhh... sure. No problem. I guess I’ll just wait here.”

“Great! Thanks!” You closed the door and bolted to your bedroom. Forget making the bed or picking up your apartment. You needed bare minimum presentable. You turned on the shower as you plucked the foam from between your toes, realizing you had only painted one foot. You stripped down and hopped into the shower, washing your face and ripping the shower cap from your head. Racing through a quick shower you hopped out and dried off as you made your way to your closet. Attempting to play it casual you threw on a pair of leggings, almost falling over while putting them on. Stumbling out of you closet you grabbed a tank top, scrambling to get it on as you made your way towards the door.

Pulling the chain off the door, you opened it to find him sitting against the wall in the hallway looking bored. A megawatt smile crossed his face as he looked at you.

“Sorry about that....” you smiled apologetically, shrugging your shoulders.

“Had to get rid of your other boyfriend, huh?” He winked at you as he walked into your apartment, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed you.

“We’ll go with that.” You hollered over your shoulder as you closed and locked the door. Your face immediately turned ten shades of red when you spun around to see his face filling your tv screen, and him standing in front of it, pointing back at it with a slight blushing smile of his own.

“Looks like you have shit taste in movies...” he laughed.

You were still kicking around that he had said “other boyfriend” as you laughed at his self deprecating remark. You rushed to grab the remote and turn off the tv as you simultaneously shoved beauty care products off of the table, dropping them into what was normally just a decorative basket, kicking it back under the coffee table.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Were you busy? I just wanted to bring you a little something.” He held up a take out bag and the roses.

“I was just in the middle of my Sunday night beauty routine. Nothing major. I’m glad you’re here...”

He set the roses and takeout down on the dining room table and slowly walked towards you, wrapping his hands around your waist, playfully pulling you against him.

“I’m not gonna lie... I missed you. I hope that’s ok.” His blue eyes sparkled, making your heart race faster.

“I’m really glad you’re here. You didn’t have to bring me anything... but thank you. The roses are beautiful.”

“Have you eaten yet? I brought Chinese food.”

You slid your hands up his arms, wrapping them around his neck, locking eyes with him before leaning your face up for a kiss. “Nope. I’m starving.”

“Then I’m glad I came to your rescue.” He kissed you and winked, as he pulled you towards the dining room table. “Wanna watch a movie while we eat?”

“Sure! You pick out a movie and I’ll grab some plates. Plus I need to put these roses in some water. They’re absolutely gorgeous.... thank you. You’re so sweet.”

He plopped down onto the sofa, picking up the remote. You stood there for a moment, roses in hand, staring at the gorgeous man in your living room. It was so...comfortable. Normal. Like he wasn’t Captain America. He craned his neck looking back at you as you pretended to be busy. He had almost caught you staring.

The two of you had gorged yourselves on the Chinese food and were now comfortably snuggling on the sofa. Reruns of Friends played on the tv as the two of you made a concerted effort to behave. You were shifting in your seat, restless, fidgeting with the pillows.

“Why don’t you stretch your legs out? Might make you more comfortable....” he smiled sweetly, apparently not the least bit annoyed at your endless movement.

You scooted away towards the corner of the sofa, stretching out your legs, quickly tucking your unpainted toes into the sofa cushions as he crawled over the top of you, bracing himself, hovering over you. His sexy smirk quickening your pulse as he leaned down and gave you a kiss. He lowered himself, gently nuzzling his face across your chest. Burrowing his face between your breasts, giving you a mischievous glance upon finding you not wearing a bra. You looked down at him with a smile as he nuzzled his way down your stomach.

“I’ll be right back.” He winked. You had a confused look on your face before erupting in laughter as he pulled your shirt over his head continuing his caressing exploration of your chest.

Your laughter immediately gave way to quiet moans and heavy breathing as his nose and lips traced over your skin. Your nipples instantly erect as his soft, warm lips brushed over them, sending a shiver through your entire body. That warm pulsing feeling growing between your legs as his tongue teased your sensitive skin.

As he lowered his hips, making himself more comfortable, you felt his excitement on your leg. You gripped onto his shoulder, lifting yourself just enough to remove your tank top, dropping it to the floor next to you. He shifted his weight, laying next to you, freeing his hand. Scooting further up the sofa, he pulled you towards him. Face to face, his need for you was undeniable. You leaned forward, ravenously kissing him before your hand found its way to his erection.

A guttural moan escaped his lips, filling your mouth, as you skillfully worked him with your hand. Never one to take more than he gives, his hand slid between your legs.

Your surprised gasp put a smile on his face, “It’s only fair baby... you get to play with me, I get to play with you.”

His fingers traced up your hip, before tucking into the waistband of your leggings, moving south to find you excited and wet.

You arched your back as his finger slipped inside of you, effortlessly finding your g-spot, massaging it as his thumb worked on your clit. “OH! Chris!” You exclaimed as your body jolted.

His quest for your orgasm consumed you as you tried to continue, distractedly stroking him with your hand. He felt your body rock and clench, a pleased smile on his face as he planted kisses on you.

“I want you.” he whispered in your ear. His breath on your neck made your entire body tingle.

You amped up the kisses, intensifying the passion as you tugged at his shirt, revealing his toned torso. Half standing you shimmied off your leggings as he clammored to get his pants undone and to the floor. Straddling his lap, you lowered yourself onto him, both of you exclaiming panted sighs and moans. His hands on your hips pushed and pulled as if helping your ride him. You stared down at his face, even more gorgeous than usual, you felt completely connected to him. It was at this moment you realized you were done for.

You were had. He owned you, mind, body, and soul.

#chris evans #romance #fiction #fanfic #smuttyfanfic #fanfiction #smuttyfun

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trashyslashers · 5 years

Note

Frank, Hillbilly, Billy Loomis, Stu, and Evan with a cheating S/O?

:^)

This was very fun to write and it actually helped me get out some of the n e g a t i v e feelings I’ve had sitting in me for awhile so thank you anon

Also please note that I don’t necessarily see the characters that I chose for the s/o to cheat with as people that’d willingly help someone cheat, I just chose them for the sake of making writing this more detailed.

this came out very long so readmore

———————————————————————————————————–

Billy Loomis:

Billy just kinda… laughs about it at first. Laughs in disbelief, laughs because he doesn’t want to believe that you’d cheat on him so openly.

He won’t let you know that he knows; he’ll play it cool, pretend like he didn’t see anything, like he doesn’t know anything. He’ll still greet you with that same smile, that same kiss on the lips that he always does. He won’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that he’s aware of and is hurt by your unfaithfulness.

Instead, Billy amps up his game. He makes you think he’s more in love with you than he’s ever been before - you two will probably take it to home base, if you get what I mean, if you haven’t already. Don’t be fooled, though - Billy isn’t very forgiving and isn’t one to overlook something like being cheated on.

You’ll get taunting phone calls from a total “stranger”; ones threatening to share your little secret with your poor, unaware boyfriend Billy. Of course, though - it’s not a stranger making these calls, it’s Billy - and he gets a kick out of how you scramble to make excuses, throw empty threats about how you’ll make them regret telling him, and so on. He almost breaks his cover with his chuckles.

You end up on that list of people Billy wants to take out once the spree of murders begins, but you’re last on it. He’s gonna have some fun with this - it’s the absolute least you owe him after what you did to him.

He’ll act how he did with Sidney in the movies, keeping up the facade of a loving, protective boyfriend - but in reality, he cannot wait to see the look on your face once you realize that he’s been aware of your cheating all along, nor can he wait to see the look on your face once he finally gets his revenge and makes you feel the pain he felt when he saw you with that other guy - only physically, instead of emotionally.

In the chance that you figured out beforehand that he knew about your cheating, then he’d drop the whole facade. You’re welcome to sit there and argue with him - argue about why you did it, how you felt, how sorry you were, how sorry you weren’t, whatever - but Billy isn’t really going to listen, though. He’s already made up his mind about both you and the relationship, and nothing can convince him to change his mind.

In the chance that you try to apologize, or ask for forgiveness, or ask for another chance, Billy’s not going to hear it. You’d already proven your genuine feelings for him and the relationship by cheating - so he wasn’t about to stand there and let you try to lie to him about how sorry you were.

Stu Macher:

“You’re really gonna do that to me?”

Dude’s heartbroken. He may always act as the goof of the group, but he’s got a lot of feelings deep down. Feelings that are easily hurt.

You’d been there for him after Casey dumped him, you’d been by his side for a long time and your kindness was what initially got him so into you. He’d thought you were the sweetest, cutest thing - yet there you were, hand in hand with some guy he didn’t even know the name of, after canceling the date you two had planned for that night.

Stu kinda refuses to even believe that you’d cheat on him for awhile. Surely it was just a huge misunderstanding - there’s no way you’d do something like that to him!

But when you fail to even look him in the eye as you mutter an insincere “Sorry”, Stu realizes that it’s real and that it’s serious. You really did cheat on him - and you didn’t seem genuinely remorseful in the slightest.

Stu’s said it himself before; he’s way too sensitive. He’ll shut himself away for awhile, isolating himself from his friends and his usual activities. Stu’s a pretty social, extroverted guy so his sudden self isolation speaks volumes on how he’s really feeling.

I definitely don’t see him as unstable or keen on revenge as Billy is, but that doesn’t mean he’s very forgiving about this sort of thing, either. He’ll listen to you if you apologize and swear you won’t do it again - but he won’t do it again, either. He won’t put himself through another relationship with you again, even though you swear the cheating won’t happen again.

He’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that he did something wrong that drove you away, instead of assuming you cheated because you were just that kind of person. Most of his time spent alone is spent wracking his brain for anything he might’ve done wrong.

You’d probably end up like Casey though if we’re being honest, especially if Billy heard about what happened and got to him. He still loved you, yes - but the anger and feelings of guilt combined with the peer pressure from Billy became too much to just brush off and ignore.

Frank Morrison | The Legion:

“Oh, so - am I interrupting something?”

He just storms out of the room, area, spot, wherever it was happening. He can’t even think straight.

Frank’s completely numb to it, initially. He almost can’t actually believe that you’d cheat on him - it seriously feels like it was a dream for a good day or two.

But soon, reality hits him right in the gut and he’s fucking furious about the situation.

Joey? Joey? Of all fucking people, it had to be Joey? He can’t get the image of you, sitting on Joey’s lap with your arms and legs all tangled around him, out of his head. He knew you two were close, yeah, but not that close. It made him feel sick to his stomach. Joey was his friend, he thought he could trust him - he thought he could trust you! But the two of you went behind his back and proved him disgustingly wrong.

The fight between him and Joey is loud, ugly, and unless one of the other girls is there to step in, physical. Lots of name calling, yelling, insults - but Frank can’t find it in himself to direct any of it towards you, as much as he wants to. Every time he turns to say something to you, the look on your face - one a mix of shame, anger, regret, and annoyance - makes his voice get caught in his throat.

He’s got no clue what on earth he feels towards you. Anger? Hatred? Regret? Sadness? Love, still? All of the above? His head’s pounding from the swirl of emotions, and he can’t think clearly. Regardless of if you’re in the Entity’s realm or the real world, he’ll disappear for a few days. He won’t be in trials, and none of the other Legion members will see him or even know where he went.

I can definitely see him as the kind of guy that after a bad breakup would have a ton of rebound hookups (is that the term? lmfao), and he’ll probably even try to make you jealous. Even though he knows, deep down, that you probably don’t give a shit that he’s back with Julie or that he’s with someone entirely new, he’ll secretly hope that you’ll get mad or jealous about it.

Doesn’t trust you anymore, barely trusts Joey anymore. You’re no longer welcome to hang out with them. Frank almost acts as if you were never even there to begin with - he won’t want to talk about you, think about you, hear about you - none of it. He’ll pretend that the cheating, that the relationship, that you, never happened.

Max Thompson Jr | The Hillbilly:

Max doesn’t understand what’s going on at first.

He’s felt insecure in the relationship since it’s started - he always worried that you’d come to your senses and realize how disgusting he was - but you’d always reassured him that you loved him. You’d tell him, day in and day out, that he had no reason to worry; you had no eyes for any other men, you only had eyes for him - and he believed you.

So why were you standing there, with your arms around that other guy? Max didn’t know his name - he was another Survivor - but he was what Max thought the ideal man probably looked like. Strong, tall, handsome. Everything that he wasn’t.

He’s more confused than anything when he sees you pull the other guy’s head down to your own so you could give him a quick kiss on the lips before going your separate ways - you had no idea he was there, did you? The trial had only just begun, you two really needed to be more careful.

It takes him a good few minutes to realize that you were doing with that guy what you swore you’d only do with him. You said you kissed him because you loved him - yet you just kissed that other guy! Did that mean you loved him too?! You couldn’t! You said you loved only him! Did you lie to him?

That’s when Max gets mad; it’s an anger he hadn’t felt since the day he first came face to face with his parents - but this anger isn’t at you. It’s towards himself, towards that guy you were with, towards the others.

Maybe if he killed them all and let you go, you’d forgive him! Surely he did something wrong to make you go and love another guy, so he needed to fix it right away - and you always told him how good he was at fixing things.

Max is, unfortunately, the kind of person that’s incredibly naive about these things. Your lies and bullshit promises of “It won’t happen again”, “It was a mistake”, “He just made me feel really special”, convince him. Your lies keep coming and he keeps believing them, even after catching you with that guy again, and again, and again. You don’t even touch Max that much anymore.

It rips him apart. What did he do to make you not love him anymore? Was that other guy really so much nicer to you that you decided to love him more, instead? Max will cry about it whenever you’re not around - or at least, those awkward, dry, croaky hiccups that are his way of crying. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He can’t figure it out. Maybe this was one thing he couldn’t fix.

Evan MacMillan | The Trapper:

Why?

The first question that comes to Evan’s mind is why? Had he really made you so unhappy that you needed to seek love somewhere else? What had he done?

Evan’s loyal, absolutely no doubt about it - so he can’t even fathom the idea of why on earth someone would cheat - especially someone as innocent and kind as he initially perceived you to be.

You’d really be surprised at how reasonable and calm Evan can be, especially in situations like this where most people would blow up at their significant others. A solemn “I see.” followed by him leaving the area of the woods where you and Danny were all over each other, returning back to his Estate is the only response you get.

Evan sits in silence for a long time, going so far as to even ignore the call of the Killer’s campfire for a short while. He can’t stop mulling over the scene; the sounds of your soft laughter as you sat on Danny’s lap, his mask pulled up just enough to let him press his lips to your neck. If he even bothered to sleep, he’d have nightmares about it, no doubt.

Evan’s not mad, no - he’s a strange mix of sadness, confusion, and frustration. How long had this been going on for? What had he done to drive you into the arms of another man? Were you ever going to tell him and break up with him, or were you just going to keep up the double-relationships for as long as you could?

He’d need to see some serious, genuine changes in yourself before he’d even consider entering a relationship with you again. He still loved you, loved you more than anything, but he cannot get himself to forgive you that easily.

While he won’t go out of his way to target you in trials or anything, he still can’t bring himself to really look at you for to long. He’s much swifter with his delivery of you to the hooks, that is if he even gets you. It really says something when Evan neglects his work as a Killer; the fact that sometimes he won’t even bother going after you speaks volumes about how he’s feeling. Even just looking at you is entirely too painful for him, so a lot of the time he completely ignores you and you get free escapes, much to the displeasure of both the other Survivors and the Entity.

Evan cries. He cries for the first time in God knows how long - the last time he’d cried was back when things with his father were getting rough. He’s not at all the kind of man that’s cry easily, but occasionally while he sits at his Estate in between trials and his mind wanders to you and your betrayal and the ruins of your relationship, he’ll tear up.

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