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delusion-of-negation · 2 years ago

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I loove it when folks say things like "you don't need positivity for masculinity/liking youthful skinny twinks/liking buff guys/so on because the whole world is positivity for that" like in what world dudes??? you think the whole world is like wow you like fucking twinks oh my god that's so cool you're not going to burn in hell?

there's not some like limited amount of queer positivity that we simply must reserve solely for the most in need groups, even if somebody was more accepted than somebody else, but that's a bloody big if in this case. nobody's coming to take your support, nobody's saying you don't need it. this is much like when I said I would like more support for terminally ill people, because the "it absolutely will get better!" mantra is unhelpful, and people say it depresses them to think about things not getting better so they simply can't have people like us "ruining" positivity for them. my ramble about it got mostly chronically ill people, so some began brushing terminally ill people under the rug or saying that same bullshit with a new coat of paint, like "but remember even if you cannot be cured some things will get better, don't give up!" but I subsequently get treated like the one hijacking things and being pessimistic, on my own post that I didn't even put in any tags. it literally just advocated for variety, so then we all had something. people took it as their own opportunity to soapbox about how it absolutely does get better just not how you expected uwu, and I eventually got told maybe I should view dying as better, so I can understand even I will get better, as if that's not fucking horrible response to someone saying "would be nice if I could hear good things sometimes idk", like chin up buddy dying is actually what better looks like for a sad sack of shit like you, hope this helps :).

addiction to infighting and viewing everything on oppressors vs oppressed logic means you treat suffering of others as territory disputes and confrontation and threats. I mean, ffs y'all are after mrbeast atm because he *checks notes* paid for surgery for like thousands of blind people who wanted it, I even saw claims he's refusing to pay for people who wouldn't be filmed which btw are absolutely pulled directly out of that person's asshole, you think goddamn mrbeast sat down to film thousands of people??? bro.

and it really is so similar to when people say physical disability is worse, mental health is worse, chronic is worse, x, y, z. it's fuckt. similarly like when I talked about epilepsy and compared it to an intolerance or allergy, which I have, but people assumed I don't, misread what I was saying, went on the attack. it's so tiresome. I literally was saying both are equally serious, and inflicting what triggers that in somebody is wrong and dangerous, people took colloquialisms as literal translations so badda bing badda boom, ableism against myself apparently. which means I'm oppressor, capable of maximum power, thus deserving of maximum cruel. exactly the same logic t3rfs use to send suicide bait asks to me. oppression olympics, I'm sorry but that's what it is. stop it. you'd honestly be more useful to queer people or disabled people as a completely silent onlooker than as an asshole claiming that your oppressor is a gay man with different tastes, dying people, or an otherwise vulnerable disabled person, or the guy paying for the surgery (who btw did also say the gov should be doing so, like ik apparently the narrative is he doesn't do that but yeah he does).

warped outlooks like these are spreading like wildfire, and you'd honestly be surprised how much they're even infesting irl space, including these weird obsessions with finding any way a person transgressed or sinned, ways you're more deserving of support, absolutely ridiculous leaps in logic and twisting of facts, it's just harmful. to people. you can talk all you want about politics, that community, what's best for the ends, but people are the reason literally any of that even matters to begin with. the rights of gay people aren't abstract, they're not for their own sake, they're not philosophical mental exercise, they are to protect queer people.

aromantic people don't get that the world just isn't pro-romance regarding ace, gay, trans, or poly romance, asexuals don't re sex absolutely not being accepted whenever it deviates, if you're an aromantic or gay or trans person, if you're kinky, etc, and then it doubly is an issue that gay/trans allo/allo people start asking we somehow prove being aro/ace is on par with other forms of this general genre of discrimination, as if being equally suffering has historically determined if people should care about each other. preemptively: look at the flags in my icon, I'm fucking aro. dude. however, I'm also gay af. I fuck men. I am criticising the fact you devour exclusionary rhetoric despite saying "exclusionists dni".

some criticise my lack of paragraphs and image descriptions as something adhd/visually impaired people need, but 1) I'm both, describing is hard for me, and 2) schizo, thought disorder, ocd, various issues make it near impossible for me often, just like you reading that, so just leave my posts alone, go elsewhere. variety. thoughts don't come clearly to me, it's a disjointed mess, and so ridiculous that people expect me to just "do better" and write for whatever way they find easier to read- that'd take literally hours. nothing here is "an excuse", this isn't word games, there's not an ulterior motive, get out of that mindset bro. people are like "your excuses don't make it okay not to accomodate my adhd" - idgaf. symptoms of yours don't mean I can overcome my symptoms. I shouldn't have to keep saying this but variety solves all of these. nowhere did I say allergies get respect/gay people have it worse compared to ace people/terminal people should be thought of literally every time you make a post/etc - I said be nice. bet that doesn't reflect whatever wild interpretations will fill these notes. wouldn't surprise me if somebody is saying I said there's not any cringe or toxic aro people, or that I'm erasing how exclusionists harmed ace people by equating some lame opinions with sheer incomprehensible levels of attack online (I never equated shit in these points, comparable and identical are just not synonyms).

something I think people need to learn is that just because your bullies have been calling you short, doesn't mean they don't call somebody else a tree or ask them how the weather is up there. I understand asexuals are mocked for not being sexual, despite it being the case that I'm mocked for being that; I'm mocked that thoughts naturally come in a disjointed spew, and I simply can't comprehend well enough to edit anything, but I understand you struggle to read that; I need posts that don't talk about better as synonymous with deserving, you need posts that have literally a complete lack of any indication things won't get better for you, I understand how your mind can spiral when you see such things. segmenting our communities further for ultra specficity isn't an answer though, that's isolating - really humans need each other. basically, liking twinks is not accepted just because fat guys are generally viewed as gross by society, so is any gay sex, that's all. whether you like either, we still all like dudes, we shouldn't split.

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adhd-disaster-willie · 4 years ago

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seventeen and strung out on confusion; chapter 4/4

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

Warnings: mentions of homophobia, swearing

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Alex coming out to Julie! I’ve been daydreaming about this chapter since I started the fic because dammit I need some Julie in here. okay. I hope you like it!

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August (?) 2020

Alex would’ve liked to say that he thought it couldn’t get weirder than dying, becoming a ghost, being seen by Julie -and by association… everyone-. But anxiety does this fun little thing where it makes you run over and nitpick at every possible and impossible scenario until you’ve sent yourself into an endless spiral of possibilities and what if’s and suddenly you’ve been pacing for 2 hours and your mouth is dry from all the rambling you’ve done. So Alex knew it could get weirder, and he had a very long list of exactly how it could get weirder; a list which Luke and Reggie had heard about a dozen too many times. However, being chased down by an evil soul-stealing ghost in sparkly capes with their only hope for being saved being Alex’s not-boyfriend hijacking a bus to get them the gig at the Orpheum that would hopefully make them cross over? That was not on his list.

And y’know what else was not on his list for whatever reason? Coming out to Julie. Because apparently, his brain had skipped over the fact that she didn’t know until it was looming before him and screaming in his face: She doesn’t know you’re gay?! Why didn’t you tell her?! She’s gonna kick you out of the garage and laugh when Caleb steals your soul!!!! Right, it’d probably be good to explain exactly why Alex was being sent into this particular panic.

“So-” Luke leaned forward, grinning. “Willie’s gonna hijack the opening band’s bus, so that-”

“Wait a minute, back up.” Julie waved her hands, interrupting him. “Who’s Willie?”

“Oh!” Reggie piped up. “Willie is Alex’s ghost boyf-”

“Alex’s ghost friend.” Luke slapped a hand over Reggie’s mouth, eyes wide. He jerked his head in Alex’s direction, who was sitting frozen on the couch beside Reggie, and then plastered a grin on his face to look back at Julie.

Reggie nodded, realization taking hold, and mouthed a quick sorry at Alex. Alex blinked himself out of his reverie and smiled shakily back. This was fine. Julie was looking at the three boys skeptically and he was sure that she was getting ready to push and prod until Alex broke and-

“Okay, so Alex’s ghost… friend is gonna hijack the other band’s bus,” Julie gave a tight-lipped smile. “And then what?”

Alex blinked. He dug his nails into his palms, waiting for Julie to say something about Reggie’s slip up, but nothing came and the conversation continued, Luke reciting the plan until it fully sunk in, and Julie nodding along like nothing had happened. Okay.

Everyone began to file out of the studio, but Alex had been too lost in his thoughts to know why or where they were going. He leaned back on the couch and exhaled shakily, shutting his eyes tight.

It’s not like he had never wondered if the future was more accepting. Of course he had. But he hadn’t quite begun to process that it was an actual possibility. Back home… or 25 years ago, Alex corrected himself, coming out meant alienating yourself from half the people you care about and most of the ones you don’t. Alex’s parents hated him, his grandparents had never been allowed to even know, and for all he knew, Angie had been brainwashed to believe that he was a monster. And that’s not to mention the dirty looks and slurs tossed at him by anyone who even had an inkling that he was gay. So it was difficult to imagine that things had gotten better in 25 years, and that he could tell Julie and have her not bat an eye. Because Luke, Reggie, and Bobby had accepted him unconditionally, but that was rare. Most of the people he’d come out to either hated him, asked him a slew of inappropriate questions, or couldn’t look at him without pity overriding their features.

“Alex?”

Alex’s head snapped up, turning to face Julie, who was standing in the entrance of the studio looking at him pitifully. Of course. Ok, he could deal with this. It was better than being kicked out. Fine.

“Yea?” Alex finally stammered, swallowing past the dryness in his throat.. “I just came to get my laptop, we’re gonna watch Netflix,” she hesitated. “Are you alright? You kinda zoned out the last 10 minutes of that conversation. And you were looking at the floor like it was gonna bite you.”

Oh.

Alex chuckled weakly at the last comment. “Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He smiled up at her to prove his alleged fine-ness. Julie raised an eyebrow.

“Ok, you are not fine.” Julie sat down beside him.

“Julie… I’m okay, go watch your netflakes.”

“First of all, it’s Netflix. Also, when I said we I meant all four of us. I’m not gonna watch tv with those idiots while you sit alone in the studio spiraling.” Julie scooted closer to him, her eyebrows knitted in worry. She sighed softly before clasping her hands together in her lap and staring downwards. “I know… I know this sucks. This whole thing sucks so much. But we should enjoy the time we have. And yes that’s hypocritical of me considering I holed up in my room alone when I found out. But-” -she nudged Alex and laughed softly- “I’m not gonna let you sit here moping while Luke makes me watch Back to the Future.”

Alex smiled bittersweetly. He was sure his heart could be heard a hundred miles away and fuck why were his palms so sweaty? He began fiddling with the strap of his fannypack. Julie raised her eyebrows. Of course she already knew all his nervous ticks. Because Julie knows everything; he was starting to think that Reggie wasn’t so far off with the witch thing because no one should ever be that good at reading people.

“That’s not what’s bothering me,” Alex admitted, his voice quivering. He was really gonna do this. Fuck, ok then.

Julie nodded, allowing him to continue.

“It’s about, uh…” He closed his eyes and exhaled, counting as he did. “It’s about what Reggie said, kind of.” He looked over, assessing Julie’s reaction. She gave him an encouraging smile.

Alex clenched his fists to try and stop them from trembling. “I-” Come on Alex, you can’t turn back now, just get it over with. “I’m gay.” He almost poofed out right then and there. He felt completely frozen, and if being ghost didn’t already make him feel floaty and not feel, this certainly did. He was milliseconds from leaving when Julie launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around Alex

“Thank you for telling me, Alex. Thank you for trusting me,” she murmured into his hoodie. When she pulled away, they were both smiling and Alex felt a weight lift off his shoulders that he hadn’t even noticed had been hanging around since he appeared in the garage.

“Well, I guess now’s a good a time as any,” Julie said, taking a deep breath.

“A good time for…”

“I’m bisexual.” Julie smiled brightly and let out a breath.

“Oh,” Alex’s brow furrowed for a moment, but perked up just as swiftly. “That’s the one with the pink purple and blue!” He said proudly. “Willie told me.” The last part was laced with a pink blush that Julie thankfully chose to ignore.

“Yeah!” Julie grinned. She gave him a high five and laughed.

“Thank you for telling me Jules,” Alex said, repeating what she’d just told him.

Julie nodded and squeezed his hand. She stood up, pulling Alex up with her.

“Aw, c’mon I was comfy,” Alex whined.

Julie gave him a stern look. “Alex, if we sat for even 10 seconds longer, Luke would come barging in convinced I was dead and you like, fainted from a panic attack or something.”

“Yea, he would,” Alex sighed reluctantly. “Your punishment for making me stand up is listening to Luke pause Back to the Future every 5 seconds to tell us all his theories that we’ve heard a hundred times.”

“But I haven’t heard them,” Julie pouted, a smile breaking through her expression as she pulled the studio doors open and began walking towards the house.

“No. No, do not say that when he’s in the room, you’ll only encourage him.”

“Fine.”

A beat of silence passed, but not an uncomfortable one, Alex noted.

“So… you wanna tell me about this ghost boyfriend of yours?” Julie teased, wiggling her eyebrows and giggling.

Alex flushed crimson. “He is not my boyfriend!”

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Aaaand we’re done. I need to stop writing multichapter things because I suck at them askajshdsk. I hope that you liked this fic though! Feedback is highly appreciated.

Taglist: @stars-soph @thatsmyverb

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #alex mercer #alex mercer fic #julie molina #willex #willie jatp #reggie peters #luke patterson #sunset curve #willow writes

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kriscme · 4 years ago

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One Life To Live

Hi, to anyone still around. Here’s the next chapter, also available on AO3. There will be another chapter next week. Thanks as always to Ronja for permission to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take.”

Chapter 32

Before I knock on Peeta’s door I go over my checklist. Focus on my objective to help Peeta find himself. Be prepared for Peeta’s questions and answer them honestly. If he asks if I was in love with him, I’ll answer yes because that is the truth. And if he asks if I’m still in love with him – well, that would be a problem, but I doubt it will happen. Peeta won’t ask. Still, I hesitate. I was so confident when I agreed to it, but now every instinct tells me to turn tail and run. What if he does ask? What do I say? Do I lie? Because I don’t think I can. Not convincingly, anyway. I’ll just have to trust that Peeta is of the same mind. After all, it doesn’t advantage either of us to bring it out into the open. And he’s sure to be sensitive to my situation having gone through it himself. In those months of ignoring each other before the Victory Tour, he surely would have wished he hadn’t been so open with his feelings. How much easier it would have been for him if he could have laughed it off as part of the strategy. And of course, I know Peeta would never do anything that could embarrass me. Gathering my courage, I rap sharply on the door. It takes a while for Peeta to answer it. I must have caught him in the middle of doing something because he looks a little flustered. He’s casually dressed in shorts and a faded T-shirt the same shade of blue as his eyes. I’m similarly dressed in shorts and a sleeveless top. Maybe we had the same thing in mind for our wardrobe choice. What you’d wear hanging around your house with an old friend on a hot afternoon and didn’t care what you looked like. My eyes do a brief sweep of the living room before I enter. It’s the usual setup of a two-seater sofa in front of the television and lounge chairs on either side. I gaze longingly at the single chairs and I’m tempted to dive for one of them but since that could look as if I have something to fear I reluctantly take a seat on the sofa.

Peeta sits down beside me. The coffee table already has been laid out with refreshments. A pot of tea and two cups. A pitcher of iced water and two glasses. A platter of cheese, fruit and crackers. A plate of iced cookies. “Who else is coming?” I ask. There seems to be an excessive amount of food. He coughs nervously. “Um, no one. I just thought, maybe, that if you have the time, we could watch the tapes all at once. There’s not that many of them.” He indicates a small stack by the television. There are three tapes – four if there’s one already in the video player. “Sure,” I say. I’m as anxious to get this out of the way as he is. Max won’t mind if I turn up late or not at all. Our meetings at the pub have never been more than a casual arrangement. I slip off my sandals and pull my knees up to my chest in my defensive position but then put them down again when I see Peeta staring at my bare legs. Maybe he doesn’t like feet on his furniture. My feet are clean though. I had a shower when I got back from the woods where I’d spent most of the day. I hoped the stillness and tranquility of the place would help get me in the right headspace for the coming ordeal. The effect doesn’t seem to have lasted. My nerves feel all jangled and on edge. Peeta doesn’t look any better. “Tea?” asks Peeta. “Thanks.” Tea slops into the saucer as he hands it to me. I can’t tell whether it’s him or me and I put the cup back down on the coffee table. “It needs to cool,” I tell him. I shift my gaze to the television. “Do you think we should get started?” I want this over with. “Yes, of course.” Peeta picks up the remote, points it at the television but then lowers it again.

“Katniss, before we go any further, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the way I’ve acted since I came back to 12. Now that I seem to have most of my memories back and can see more clearly, I realize how insensitive and confusing my behavior must have been and I want you to know how much I appreciate you sticking with me despite it all. It’s only because of you that I found the motivation to find my way back to myself. So, I want to thank you and also apologize for any offence I’ve caused. I’m sorry.” His apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta’s behavior has been insensitive – even appearing at times as if he deliberately wanted to hurt me. But I can’t hold what the hijacking was responsible for against him. It wasn’t really Peeta in the same way that his trying to kill me wasn’t really him either. And I think, maybe, that in some ways I owe him an apology. At the very least, I can’t claim credit for sticking with him. Not all the time anyway and it had to be on my terms. My behavior would likely have seemed just as insensitive and confusing to him as his was to me. “I’m sorry, too,” I say. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. None of it is your fault. But I don’t want to go on like this, ignoring each other and then trying to act as if nothing’s wrong when other people are around. So I thought if I could stop being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at being friends.” Friends. It’s what I expected, but somehow it still hurts. Peeta’s not hard to read. He’s letting me know, in the nicest way possible, the rules for how we’ll approach this. We’re to be friends and whatever is on those tapes will be interpreted as such. Typical of Peeta, he’s even taking on the blame for the awkwardness between us, claiming himself as the wounded party when we both know it’s my injured feelings that are the cause of it. But perhaps the worst of it, or the best of it – I can’t decide which, is that Peeta sounds like his old self, the one who could always think of the right thing to say. Perceptive, unassuming, kind, wanting to put others at ease. Nothing could break me faster. My Peeta is back. And he doesn’t love me anymore. I blink back tears. “Okay.” “Is that all right?” he asks, his voice edged with concern. I manage a wobbly smile. “Of course, it is. I’m just glad we’re friends again, that’s all. I’ve missed it.”

Peeta gives me a relieved smile in return and turns back to the television. “Yeah. Me too.” He clicks on the remote and we’re transported into dense jungle. Hot, steamy, oppressive. Finnick, Mags, Peeta and I form a single line as we slowly tramp our way through thick vegetation. Peeta is in front slashing at vines with his knife. I see the ripple hanging in mid-air that signifies a force field and I start to call out a warning. Peeta’s knife makes contact and he’s slung backwards to the ground, lifeless. I steal a glance at the Peeta on the sofa. I see no recognition on his face at all. This is new to him then. I turn my attention back to the television and try to prepare for how I should react to what’s about to happen.

The onscreen me screams his name and attempts to revive him by shaking him and slapping his face. Finnick calmly pushes me aside and checks Peeta over before pinching his nostrils shut. When I try to stop him, he shoves me violently against a tree. I reach for my bow but stay my hand when I realize what Finnick is doing. Just when all hope seems lost Peeta gives a small cough. I hurl myself at him, brushing his hair from his forehead, tears streaming down my face. And then I start to sob, great heaving sobs that I’m powerless to stop. Finnick blames baby hormones and I glare at him. But instead of returning it with sarcasm, his glance travels between Peeta and me, his expression puzzled. And that’s when the image on the television freezes. On Finnick’s baffled face. I turn to Peeta wondering why he stopped the tape and see the same bewildered look on his face that was on Finnick’s. For one horrifying moment, I’m afraid he’s going to comment on the hysterical way I reacted. He’s supposed to ignore stuff like that. But then it dawns on me that he’s just seen himself die. That’s why he looks so shocked. It would unsettle anyone. “It was the forcefield,” I explain hurriedly. “I only knew it was there at the last second because I’d seen one in the training room. Beetee and Wiress pointed it out to me. There’s an irregularity – a chink in the armor they called it. It looks like a sort of wave hanging in mid-air. Not all over, just the odd patch. We later used it to cook food by throwing it at it.” I know I’m rambling but the way Peeta is looking at me is disconcerting. It’s as if he’s trying to figure something out about me. Perhaps it’s made old doubts resurface of the time I tried to kill him when he and the careers had me treed. I suppose it could look as if I tried to stop Finnick from saving his life. “It’s just as well Finnick was there. I didn’t know what he was doing at first. I thought he might have been trying to finish you off when he put his hand over your nose. But then I recognized it as a technique I’ve seen my mother use a couple of times when a person’s heart stops. If you can get to them fast enough you can sometimes get it started again. “ I grab the remote from the coffee table and un-pause the tape before Peeta can say anything. His gaze lingers on me for a few seconds before he turns his focus back onto the screen. I hope this hasn’t reawakened his distrust of me. The tape continues with Finnick and me disagreeing over whether Peeta should get moving or rest. My nose is still running like crazy from all the crying I’d done. Mags rips hanging moss from a tree for me to use as a handkerchief to mop up all the snot. “So embarrassing,” I tell the Peeta beside me. If he wasn’t attracted to me before, this should clinch it. The tape ends with me noticing the locket with the mockingjay engraved on it around his neck. “Well, that’s about it,” I say. “It’s pretty self-explanatory. You get zapped by the forcefield and Finnick saves you. No lasting damage. How about we move onto the next tape?” I’m already out of my seat. I seize a tape at random, remove the one in the player, and insert the new one. I hope this one is less incriminating. It’s worse. It’s Snow’s execution. If Peeta’s distrust of me is re-emerging then this will send it soaring into the stratosphere. How can you feel secure around someone whose job it is to kill one president but then suddenly decides to kill another? Such a person could turn around and kill you next. And it’s not implausible as far as Peeta is concerned. I’ve pointed an arrow at him twice with intent to kill – the first time in the Games when he pulled out a knife, the second in a Capitol sewer. Both times were in anticipation of him killing me but Peeta might not remember that. Indeed, looking at him now, body tense, apprehension etched on his face, that’s probably what’s going through his mind right now. Memories must be triggered if he knows enough to be nervous about it. He looks down at the faint double crescent scar on his hand and runs the thumb of the other hand across it. He’s remembering . . . something. I don’t think it’s good. I shift my attention back to the television screen. I need to focus. This must be the footage that was broadcast across Panem going by the way the camera picks out the VIPs in the audience. The voice-over from Claudius Templesmith has been edited out but the noise from the crowd can still be heard. I guess Dr Aurelius wants Peeta to hear only my version of events. The execution takes place in the narrow terrace in front of the president’s mansion. It doesn’t allow for a large audience – this was clearly intended as a television event – but what is there is packed in tightly. The remainder had spilt over into the City Circle and down the side streets. Guards and officials take their places. And then rebel leaders and victors. The victors have been given a prominent position at ground level close to where I’m to stand. Peeta is between Johanna and Beetee looking slightly dazed. Loud cheers welcome President Coin as she appears on the balcony and takes up her position. It doesn’t afford Coin the best view as she can’t look her enemy in the face before he dies, but more dramatic from a staging perspective to have the triumphant leader directly above the defeated one in a single camera shot. That’s what Plutarch would have told her. But Coin would surely have felt vulnerable with a loose cannon like me in front of her, armed, and within easy shooting range. Vulnerable enough to invent a scenario to test my loyalty? Well, there’s no sense in going over my theories of why things happened as they did. This is about Peeta’s experience in this particular moment. He’s just come out of the victor’s meeting believing that I wanted another Games. Who knows what was going through his mind? That I’m indeed the monster that Snow made him believe? I emerge after Coin takes her seat and then Snow is marched out and secured to a post. The camera is in a close-up of his face. There’s no remorse or fear. Only amusement. I aim at the rose pinned to his chest, shift my arrow upwards and release the string. Coin topples to the ground. Dead. What happens next took mere seconds but this has been edited to include as much detail as possible. There are images of Coin’s lifeless body, landed face down on the paving. People rush to her aid and turn her onto her back. A red rose blooms on her breast to contrast with the white rose on Snow’s. Her eyes are wide open, her expression one of surprise. Snow is literally choking with laughter, blood frothing from his mouth. Guards surge towards me. I whisper something indecipherable and raise one arm and twist my head to reach it. Peeta is suddenly in the frame. He grabs my upper arm and my teeth clamp down, drawing blood. I lift my head and yell something at him. There’s too much noise from the crowd to make out my words. It’s the same with Peeta’s desperate response. He’s pulled from me and a scrap of fabric can be seen clutched in his hand. I’m lifted off the ground over the crush of people, frantically struggling. I open my mouth and scream. The audio picks up the single word. Gale! Gale! The tape ends when I’m carried into the mansion and disappear from sight. Very slowly, Peeta reaches for the remote control and turns off the television. We both sit in silence to digest what we had just seen. I expect to be evicted from his home shortly. Siding with Coin over another Games, shooting the leader who was instrumental in defeating our arch-enemy Coriolanus Snow – the man who had Peeta tortured and ordered the bombing that killed his family. And then biting his hand so hard when he tried to save me that he still bears the scars. “It looks bad, doesn’t it?” I venture when the silence grows too long. “Yeah. I’ve watched this tape before. With Haymitch. He explained most of it and told me what preceded it. You know, the meeting with Coin.” He runs a hand through his hair and gives his head a shake. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. I actually voted to exterminate the entire Capitol citizenry. That was the choice offered, wasn’t it? A single Games or kill the lot of them?” “Yes. But you weren’t the only one. Even Beetee missed it.” I don’t tell him that he influenced the other’s choice by voting first under the presumption that it was a simple choice of Games or no Games. He feels bad enough already. “But if you’ve seen this tape already and you’ve discussed it with Haymitch, why would Dr Aurelius want you to watch it again with me?” Peeta’s face turns red. “There was a question Haymitch couldn’t answer and it was bothering me. He told me I’d have to ask you.” Oh. “You mean what we said to each other?” That’s the only part of it I can think of that Haymitch may not know. “No, I remembered that. And why I stopped you from taking the nightlock pill. It was just . . .” He stops, takes a breath, and ends in a rush. “Why did you call out for Gale? After everything you’ve said about him not being your boyfriend. It doesn’t make sense.” I’m so startled I’m momentarily lost for words. With all that was on that tape, has that question actually been preying on him? “It’s because we had a pact. If either of us was caught by the enemy, we’d kill each other first so they wouldn’t have the satisfaction of taking us alive.” “You wanted him to shoot you?” “Yes. He didn’t, obviously. And I couldn’t shoot him when he was captured by peacekeepers. Sorry excuses for hunters and friends we turned out to be.” Peeta’s face clears and even breaks out in a smile. “I’m glad he didn’t.” I laugh. “Yeah. Me too.” I feel the tension ebb from my muscles a little. A much-needed respite from all the drama so far. “Shall we watch the next one?” It’s our first Games. My head is bandaged which means this happened after I’d gone to the feast for Peeta’s medicine. Heavy rain can be heard from outside the cave and Peeta and I have no choice but to remain where we are, our hunger pangs worsening by the hour. Peeta wonders what we’d have to do to get Haymitch to send us some food. This reminds me to ramp up the romance angle. I take Peeta by the hand and playfully suggest that a lot of resources had been used on the sleep syrup that helped me knock him out. I think I can guess what Dr Aurelius had in mind with this tape. It’s the first kiss from Peeta that had me wanting another. He thinks it will lead to a discussion that not all my romantic responses were faked and that my attraction to him had started early in our relationship. This one is easy. Even if Peeta doesn’t believe it was faked, it won’t be hard for him to pretend that it was. I lean back into the sofa, feeling relaxed for the first time since I got here. Peeta doesn’t seem anxious about it either. I imagine that I’m one of the many thousands of people who watched it on TV. I know most bought into the romance as genuine – especially in the Capitol. In the Districts, the romance was secondary to our perceived rebellion against the Capitol. I later learned that I didn’t fool Snow and my fellow victors who saw through the act. Yet somehow, they missed this. It was perhaps the only kiss that Peeta and I shared in those first Games when I wasn’t acting. I watch the girl falter over her words. The boy wants her to go on, his face alight with budding hope. The feeble excuse she makes. The boy leaning in. The soft explorative kiss growing more confident, gaining heat. The girl’s hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Her eyes closed and lips slightly pursed in readiness for more kissing. The boy’s concern over her head wound. And her disappointment when that second kiss manifests as a mere peck on the nose. Yet despite all that, it doesn’t scream out as being significantly different from the many other kisses we shared. It’s in the subtleties. You’d have to be watching carefully to see it. I turn to Peeta, confident that the last thing he’ll want to do is to scrutinize it too closely. But he’s watching the screen intently, his brows drawn together in concentration. I have a very bad feeling about this. Please, please, don’t go there. This is not how it’s supposed to work. “You weren’t acting.” He looks to me for confirmation. Be honest. I want to ignore that little voice. Tell it to go away. I can see the yawning chasm of a slippery slope opening up. If he wants to talk about how I felt about him then it could lead to how I feel about him now. But then I remember how Peeta was at the dinner and what he had intimated to me earlier. Friendship is the game going forward. He’s as anxious to avoid any talk of my present feelings for him as I am. An honest discussion of the past can’t hurt. It’s a necessary part of Peeta finding himself. “No,” I say simply. “Can you tell me what was going through your mind?” “Well, it made me think of what it would be like if you had died and that made me realize that I didn’t want to lose you, that’s all.” “And the kiss?” “I liked it. I wanted to keep going.” I pause, pondering the wisdom of how much I should reveal and then quickly make the decision to put it all out there. This is our final session. After today, we don’t ever need to talk about it again. I won’t be telling Peeta anything he doesn’t already know or has guessed, anyway. “Look Peeta, most of what happened in the Games was an act, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t care for you or wasn’t attracted. I thought you were acting too, and quite frankly, there was a lot going on, I mean there were people who wanted to kill us – to be thinking of romance. And then on the train back to 12, I got to thinking about how being a victor would fit with my old life and it was kind of overwhelming. I didn’t know what to feel about anything. But I did miss you and wished we could have stayed friends.” I put a faint emphasis on the word “friends.” Peeta will appreciate that. It puts us back in a safe place after all this talk of attraction and kissing. “Friends,” repeats Peeta. He seems to retreat into a far-away place before he rouses himself. “Your favorite color is green. Mine is orange. Right?” “That’s right,” I say smiling. “It’s what we talked about at the start of the Victory Tour when we decided to make a try of being friends.” I make sure to stress “friends.”

Peeta suddenly rises from the sofa. “I just need to take a break for a minute.” While I wait, I change the tapes over. It’s the last one and I have an awful feeling about it. It’s sure to be the kisses on the beach. I doubt that Dr Aurelius would have left it to Haymitch and Johanna as I’m the only one who can say what was really going on. I suppose I’ll have to be honest. Say, yes Peeta, I did like kissing you and no, nothing was faked. But as long as he doesn’t ask how I feel about him now, we’ll be all right.

I question the value of having to talk about it in any case. It’s not as if the conclusion hasn’t already been decided. Whatever happened in the past has no bearing on the present. Our purpose is to construct a wall of pretence so that we can be a family with Haymitch and stand to be in each other’s company. We’re fooling ourselves that we can be friends though. We won’t be. Not really. No wonder Peeta has to leave the room. The hypocrisy must be killing him. I take a sip of tea, now grown cold, and start to nibble on a cracker before putting it down again. I have no appetite and nor, it seems, does Peeta. The food is almost untouched, so intent we’ve been on getting through these tapes as fast as possible. Peeta returns, pale but composed. “Let’s finish it,” he says. Finish it. My heart clenches at the implication. The end of Katniss and Peeta, star-crossed lovers of District 12. I press the play button on the remote and the tape begins.

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ejzah · 4 years ago

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This is a story idea way back when the series first began and when Deeks was first introduced. Could you PLEASE write a story about everyone’s reactions when they learn that Jason Wyler is actually undercover Detective Marty Deeks. It’s always annoyed me we never saw everyone’s reactions and I would also love it if we got a formal introduction too please.

A/N: So...a lot of this ended up being from Kensi’s perspective, but I did get most the team’s reactions in to some degree. I hope this is ok.

***

“This guy’s a detective?” Sam repeated, addressing the tiny woman who had introduced herself as Henrietta Lange, instead of Deeks. His tone was definitely insulting. Now mostly over his initial shock of finding out that he wasn’t the only one undercover, Deeks resisted the urge to say something particularly unpleasant and instead smirked at the other man. Agent Sam Hanna from some fancy pants Federal Agency.

“It’s ok, don’t feel bad. I’ve fooled a lot of people before,” he responded, having a feeling it would tick Hanna off even more. He was right; Hanna made a derogatory noise, his expression disgusted, and jerked his thumb in Deeks’ direction.

“I thought LAPD had a dress code. They must really be going down hill if they’re accepting hippies off the street.” Deeks huffed out an unamused laugh. Like he hadn’t heard something similar a hundred times before. He expected a Fed to be cleverer than that honestly.

“I used to be a lawyer too,” he told Hanna who looked appropriately aghast. “And before you ask, my hair was even longer.” Deeks let his gaze flick up to Hanna’s shaved head. He could easily see the man being ex-military. He had that holier-than-thou attitude that came from years of ordering other people around and assuming you were always right.

“Alright, enough chit-chat gentleman,” Ms. Lange decided, stepping between them, her hands folded together. “We have work to do. And Detective Deeks should probably meet the rest of the team as well.”

Deeks followed after them, figuring that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by being too resistant. Besides, he was oddly intrigued by Henrietta Lange. And also a little intimidated and terrified. But he wouldn’t mention that part.

“So tell me, who all is on this team?” he asked as Sam and Ms. Lange lead him to a shiny SUV. “And where exactly are you taking me?”

“The boat shed,” Sam answered shortly, ignoring the first question.

“Ooh, sounds fancy.”

“How about we keep the small talk to a minimum?” Deeks pursed his lips at the suggestion, thinking that Hanna was about to find out just how chatty he could be. He smirked again, biting back a chuckle. If this NCIS place could mess up his op, then he could certainly ruin their day.

***

“Wait, how did LAPD get in on this?” Callen asked and Kensi perked up, wondering what Hetty was telling him. He sounded vaguely annoyed. “Ok, yeah, we’ll be at the boat shed.” Hetty had called Callen about five minutes ago with an update and there’d mostly been silence on his end. She waited impatiently for him to hang up.

“What was that about? Did Hetty get Sam out?” Callen chuckled at her questions, shaking his head as he slipped his phone into his back pocket.

“Yep, Sam’s out. And apparently Wyler got released too.”

“What? But, he attacked Sam,” Kensi said, wondering just what kind of criminal Jason Wyler was that he had strong enough connections to get out of jail after assaulting a federal agent.

“Turns out Wyler is actually some kind of undercover cop. Martin Deeks, Hetty said,” he explained with a frown.

“You’re kidding.” Kensi had known there was something off about Wyler, but a cop?

“Unfortunately I’m not. I’m gonna text Eric and see what he can dig up on this guy now that we have a real name.”

Kensi waited a few minutes and then peered over Callen’s shoulder, trying to read his texts.

“What did he say?”

“‘That makes a lot of sense. I’ve got a whole file on a Detective Marty Deeks. Looks like he’s a good cop, but whoever sets up his backstopping needs to be fired.’,”Callen read off and Kensi rolled her eyes.

“And?”

“He said to send Deeks over when we’re done so he can give him a “real” alias. He’s worried about the guy getting marked.”

“Eric hasn’t even met him yet,” Kensi protested, annoyed.

“You know Eric. He can’t resist the chance to geek.”

About 30 minutes later, Hetty, Sam and Detective Deeks walked in. Hetty led the small group and had the barest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips as Sam walked behind her, his expression stony and impassive.

Deeks stopped in the doorway, glancing around with a vaguely impressed look. He spotted Kensi, one eyebrow rising briefly, and she crossed her arms defensively. If he was surprised to see her there, he didn’t show it. He winked at her, then practically swaggered the rest of the way into the room like he owned the place.

Hetty cleared her throat and gestured to him.

“Everyone, this is LAPD Detective Marty Deeks. Detective, these are Agents Callen and Kensi Blye.” She smiled in a satisfied way and added, “Play nice.” Without another word, she left.

“Deeks,” Callen acknowledged him. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Deeks raised an eyebrow at the clear attempt to control the situation but sauntered over to the table, hooked his foot around a chair and sat down in an insolent manner.

Sam followed the movement, his face remaining impassive, but Kensi thought she saw a hint of animosity. That was unexpected. From what she’d experienced, he usually didn’t let his emotions show unless it was a particularly personal case. Apparently Deeks rubbed everyone the wrong way.

With a little prompting, Deeks explained his plan to get Sam arrested and keep him out of the gym, and effectively out of LAPD’s way.

She was vaguely impressed by his skills and ingenuity, but brushed that thought away. He was pretty good, but not as good as them. Plus, she’d known something was off about him immediately, she’d just been wrong about the root cause. Kensi also silenced the voice that reminded her that he’d been suspicious of her as well.

Deeks helped himself to some coffee, again making himself at home as he smiled cockily and joked, easily guessing their set up at the mission. Kensi resisted the urge to laugh as he teased Sam and Callen. It wasn’t good-natured teasing either, anymore than their comments to him were well-meant.

Clearly he disdained them. Good, she didn’t like him either. He was full of himself, too self-assured, scruffy, unkempt. Blue-eyed and blonde, the voice in her head supplied helpfully.

Shut up, she told it firmly. Callen and Sam were wrong. She did not have a thing for him. He was a mediocre cop who’d obviously gotten in over his head. He glanced her way, that sarcastic, half-flirty smirk in place and she stared back at him, hoping to unnerve him. All she got in return was a smoldering look, his blue eyes daring her to look away first.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel a little bad that they were hijacking Deeks’ case. He’d spent months on it and now they were taking over without any remorse.

“You know, you never answered my question,” Deeks said a while later as she escorted him from the building. “Are there really r-rated photos of Special Agent Kensi Blye floating around somewhere?” Kensi glared at him and said the first thing that popped into her head.

“In your dreams.” It wasn’t particularly brilliant, but Deeks grinned nonetheless and said,

“Gladly.”

“I could take you down right now,” she threatened mildly, but he just kept smiling, clearly not intimidated by her in the slightest. It pissed her off. And intrigued her. Damn him. She would not be attracted to this scruffy, surfer dude.

“I bet you could,” he murmured as they stopped in front of his car. “See you around Agent Blye.” He winked at her again before he slid into his car and drove off.

“I don’t like him,” Sam said coming up behind her with Callen by his side.

“At least he’s on our side,” Callen pointed out. “It would be a lot more annoying if he was actually a criminal. Let’s just hope he stays out of our way for the rest of the case.”

“And once we close the case won’t have to see him ever again.” Kensi said, not sure why she felt a hint of regret at the thought. She was definitely not smitten.

“Thank god,” Sam said. “Cause I think I’d end up shooting him if I had to listen to his rambling for more than a few days.”

***

A/N: Hopefully this is ok. I really played on that fact that none of them got along super well at first.

#ncis la fanfiction #hand-to-hand #marty deeks #kensi blye #sam hanna #g callen #hetty lange #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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knovesstorytelling · 4 years ago

Text

Murray Mysteries S1E1 Transcript

Episode 1. Mina Murray’s Particularly Powerful Podcast Preface

Written by May Toudic

Mina: Welcome to Murray Mysteries.

[Theme music plays.]

Mina: Hi! Hello.

Mina (chuckling nervously): Howdy, nope.

[She groans.]

Mina: Welcome to this podcast. I’m Mina Murray. Blessed with an alliterative name since 1996. By day, I’m an unemployed twenty-something with a teaching degree. But by night, I, uh. I read books, watch true crime shows, and do jigsaw puzzles with my boyfriend.

[She laughs.]

Mina (pretending to be a sports announcer): And the crowd goes wild!

[She laughs more.]

Mina: Yeah, I know, I know. I sound uh, I sound boring. Honestly, I might be? You’re probably thinking “Everyone and their mother has a podcast nowadays. Why should I listen to this early-onset grandma talk about her life as an unemployed jigsaw puzzler?” If I were you, I probably wouldn’t want to listen to me either. BUT, but. I can be interesting, I promise. I love learning about psychology, and history, and criminology, and a lot of other things ending in -y and—

Mina (laughingly): I like sharing that knowledge too.

Mina: Trust me, I did not get a teaching degree because I love spending all my time with kids and teenagers. I did it because I want to make them better adults. And for every twenty brats there are, there is one who’s actually interested in learning stuff and listening to me rambling on about who came closest to catching Jack the Ripper. Weirdly, that primary school I did my placement in didn’t ask me back full time. Something about topics appropriate to discuss with six-year-olds? Their loss. Honestly, the kids loved it.

Mina: If that didn’t convince you, you should know I also hang out with way more interesting people than myself. My boyfriend, Jonathan, is a solicitor! Yeah, that doesn’t sound any better, but I swear he’s fun. He’s currently on a work trip to Transylvania, so clearly the job has benefits. He’s been sending me a lot of pictures of his food on the way to his client’s place and he said he was going to record his trip for my podcast’s travel segment. Didn’t have the heart to tell him that, uh, this trip’s the first one he’s been sent on in two years and we’re way too broke to fund our own travel segment.

Mina (thoughtfully): I guess we could do some very illegal camping in the nearest park and pretend the ducks are exotic wildlife.

Mina: Doesn’t that sound exciting. Well, beside budget Bear Grylls, I spend most of my time with my best friend and my flatmate, Lucy. Who’s probably the coolest person alive. She’s really hard to keep up with, in, like, the best way. Always has some kind of dodgy plan that will either turn out the best time of your life or a total disaster. No in-between. One time, she took me to this rave in an old, covered market where everyone was wearing vegetable costumes and they all played remixes of Play That Funky Music. I almost lost an eye to an asparagus, but man that was a fun night. Lucy met someone at the party and even ended up dating him for a bit. It didn’t last very long.

[Mina chuckles and clears her throat.]

Mina: The tomato costume should’ve been a … red flag?

[Mina starts giggling]

Mina: In my opinion.

[She giggles more.]

Mina: Sorry. I should be ashamed. Lucy made a pun jar for the flat and I have to put a quid in it every time I make a really bad one.

Mina (quietly): I won’t tell her about this one if you don’t,

Mina (normally): Oh! Oh, oh. I might’ve given her my login details, so there is a strong possibility she will hijack this podcast. Lucy, if you’re listening to this, don’t hijack the podcast?

[A door opens and shuts.]

Lucy (in the distance): Did I hear my name?

[Footsteps come closer.]

Lucy: You didn’t tell me you were recording.

Mina: You were out?

Lucy: Only for a bit! Did you wait until I was gone, you sneak!

Mina: I needed silence! And you were getting ready to the entire discography of Abba.

[Lucy chuckles.]

Mina: Didn’t you have a date?

Lucy: What? Um, no. Just drinks.

Mina: With someone who thought it was a date? Hmm?

Lucy: Maybe? So, what are you talking about?

Mina: You, actually.

Lucy: Oh, great choice of topic! Are you telling them about the—

Mina: —the veg party, yeah.

Lucy: That was a, that was a night.

[Lucy laughs.]

Lucy: I wonder how that tomato’s doing now.

Mina: No, no, don’t call the tomato.

Lucy: It’s just a call, it couldn’t hurt.

Mina: Lucy, what would Karamo say?

Lucy (in a nasally voice): You deserve better than a toxic relationship with some who doesn’t even know a fruit from a vegetable.

Mina: So, what are you going to do?

Lucy: Not call the tomato.

Mina: Good. Now, you’re either going to help me record this, or you’re going to get out of my room because you’re very distracting.

Lucy: I get that a lot. I’ll help you of course. What’s the next item on those little notes of yours?

Mina: Um, I was just about to tell them how we met.

Lucy: Oh, good! Now they can hear it from both points of view. A dual perspective, if you will.

Mina: You’re really milking that theatre degree there, aren’t you?

Lucy: Well, what else am I going to do with it?

Mina: Fair point.

[Lucy laughs.]

Mina: There’s really not much to the story.

[Lucy gasps.]

Lucy: Not much to it? It was a day for the ages. The origin story of our friendship. A platonic meeting of souls!

Mina: It was an eighties-themed pub quiz.

Lucy: Hey, pub quizzes are a magical thing. Anything can happen in a pub quiz. Case in point: meeting of souls.

Mina: So, it was the last day of freshers week. And I made myself go to this thing because I felt like I had missed out on all the university-mandated binge drinking.

Lucy: Mmhmm.

Mina: I went on a couple campus tours, a couple coffee crawls, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone there. Lucy, on the other hand, was there with a gaggle of glamorous people she’d managed to gather around her like moths to a very sparkly flame.

Lucy: I was wearing that holographic dress, wasn’t I? That was a good dress, I wonder what happened to it.

Mina: Um, you tore out the bit in the back in third year while trying to prove you could do the splits to that um, Brazilian exchange student.

Lucy: Oh. Yeah, I remember that. I think.

Mina: Anyway, I’m sitting there alone in a sticky booth, hoping for a miracle. And this glittering ball of charisma comes up and says “You look like you know stuff.”

Lucy: I’m very observant. You look smart and interesting and very sad and lonely. How could I resist?

Mina: You just wanted someone who was sad enough to have seen every John Hughes movie three times.

Lucy: Well joke’s on me because now I’ve seen them all too. And Molly Ringwald is an eternal icon.

Mina: Yeah, it turns out Lucy’s love of eighties music and my knowledge of history and cheesy movies made us pretty much unbeatable.

Lucy: Mmhmm.

Mina: We won a hundred-pound voucher and Lucy convinced everyone to get a mountain of pub food instead of drinks because she could tell I didn’t want any alcohol.

Lucy: I’m a very good friend. And the chilli chips at that place were amazing!

Mina: Oh, I miss those chilli chips. They piled so much cheese on those, you couldn’t see the chilli or the chips!

Lucy: Nothing will ever beat Jackie’s chips. But we could still order some from that new place tonight and eat while we pack.

Mina: Pack for what?

Lucy: Going on a trip?

Mina: No we’re not, I have stuff to do.

Lucy: Yes we are. My mum wants me to come home and visit and I am not leaving you here alone to brood over your long-lost love, far away across the sea. Come on, it’ll be fun! I promise to do one jigsaw puzzle for every party I drag you to.

Mina: I have to hunt for jobs, Lucy.

Lucy: You can do that online.

Mina: And be around in case they like, need an interview or something.

Lucy: It’s only a couple of hours on the train, you can commute.

Mina (consideringly): Did you say, one puzzle per party?

Lucy: Of less than three hundred pieces. I’m willing to comprise, but I haven’t completely given up on life yet.

Mina: There’s no talking you out of this, is there?

Lucy: Nope.

Mina: I’ll get my suitcase.

Lucy: Yes!

Mina: Goodbye listeners, if you don’t hear from me again, I’m probably being held hostage by one of Lucy’s quaint exes.

[Lucy laughs as the credits music begins to play.]

Credits: Murray Mysteries is a Knoves Storytelling production. This episode was written and produced by May Toudic and featured Drew Victorie as Mina Murray and Megan John as Lucy Westerna. Original music by Sophie Kay. Thank you for listening.

#mm transcripts

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margoshansons · 5 years ago

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The Killing Kind (7/?)

Part Seven: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06.

Summary: Instead of calling a drone to eliminate Brad, Peter simply had Y/N do his dirty work for him.

Warning: Mild swearing (does taking Jesus’ name in vain count?), maybe some miswritten hacking skills.

Notes: I am not a tech person, so this is kind of out of my league, but I tried my hardest to make it seem realistic.

She didn’t know how, but Peter was to blame for this. When Harrington told them that they had made the last minute upgrade to Prague, that was the first thought that popped into (Y/N)’s mind.

She approached the young superhero, crossing her arms as she leaned in, “Did you just hijack our summer vacation?”

Peter turned to her, apologetic, “Not on purpose, uh, Nick Fury really needs me to help out with these Elemental situations--”

“And let me guess,” Y/N cut off, “The next one’s in Prague?”

Peter nodded his head sheepishly before grasping his suitcase, “I’m sorry?” was all he could muster up before the two of them followed the rest of the class onto the bus. Y/N shook her head before settling down next to MJ, the two girls tuning out the world as the European countryside passed them by.

Y/N gazed out the window, allowing the exhaustion from yesterday to settle over her, allowing her to slowly, gently, give in to the wave, closing her eyes as the green field passed her by.

When she woke up, she knew she wasn’t in Prague. As if the strange behavior of the bus driver could’ve helped alleviate the situation.

It was a bathroom stop, a chance to stretch their legs before continuing the bus ride for the next few hours.

MJ had disappeared, and as far as Y/N could tell, so had Peter. A yawn escaped her mouth, alerting the girl to her newly revived state. Her eyes caught movement near the Men’s restroom, watching as Brad opened the door ever so slightly. She heard a scuffle of voices as he walked in, and as she crept closer, she could hear the unmistakable voice of Peter protesting something.

By the time they had loaded back onto the bus, Y/N had no doubt that something awful was about to go down if the way Peter was shaking was any indication.

After making sure MJ was asleep once again, she moved over to join Peter in the front seat.

“Hey” She offered, “Is everything okay? You seem a little...on edge”

Peter shared a worried look with Y/N, stumbling over his words. “Brad, he um...he has....”

“Jesus, spit it out Peter,” She asked exasperated with his nerves.

He leaned down, whispering the secret, “Brad has an embarrassing picture of me doing something that I definitely didn’t do but looks like I did, and now--”

“Say no more” she cut him off, pulling her laptop out of her bag, connecting it to the bus wifi. “It’s on his phone right?”

Peter nodded.

“iPhone or Android?” She asked, pulling up the program her father downloaded several years ago.

Peter placed his new glasses on his face, turning to look at Brad, eyes scanning the kid. “Um, iPhone, I think.”

“Great” Y/N began to type away in Linux, programming the necessary functions, “I need his Apple ID and password.”

Peter nodded, “EDITH,” He whispered, “I need to access Brad Davis’ Apple ID information”

Y/N paused, in awe of the glasses, “Those are Stark’s glasses” She whispered, jaw open. “That gave him access to half of the world’s private information, those are a work of technical genius!” She rambled on, current task forgotten.

Peter turned back to her, too distracted by his own hormonal problems to recognize the amount of work that went into the glasses staining his face. “Huh, oh yeah, it’s pretty cool. Mr. Stark left them to me.”

Y/N tried to ignore the irritation spinning in the pit of her stomach at the thought of a kid younger than her being left something so important. “He created the world’s most technically advanced AI, and he just...gave it to you? No explanation needed?”

Peter nodded, absentmindedly watching Brad in hopes of gaining information.

She laughed mirthlessly, holding back her anger at the thought of Peter having so much power. He was a child, not even a full adult, and he had one of the most powerful AIs at his disposal.

“Okay, I got it!” Peter announced, turning back around to face the front of the bus, “his email is bdavisbasketball@icloud,”

She began to input the information into the program, coding around it. “Password?”

Peter glanced back at the hidden screens in front of him, “bradsthebest, all lowercase, no spaces”

Y/N shook her head, disappointed in her peers for choosing such an easily hackable password. Even without the highly advanced program, she’d be able to hack his phone in a nanosecond.

“Alright, I have access” Y/N smiled inwardly, feeling like a character in a heist movie, “You said it was a picture right?”

Peter faced her, pulling the glasses off and leaning in. “Yeah, it would be among his recents”

“I know how phones work Peter.” Y/N snapped back, mostly as a joke, but she knew some of the irritation was real, that she really was upset with Peter’s use of EDITH. Or at least, she knew that was part of the reason for most of her irritation, the other part was because she could feel his breath on her neck, his arm hovering over her head, torsos practically touching. It drove her crazy. She could almost smell the body wash he had no doubt used that morning after last night’s events, mint radiating off his frame.

“There it is!” Peter shook her out of her thoughts, and Y/N hoped he didn’t notice the amount of blood rushing to her cheeks. She clicked on the picture, deleting it from Brad’s phone for good before closing the program and shutting her computer.

Peter collapsed against the bus seat, a sigh of relief emanating from the two teenagers for completely separate reasons.

“Thanks” Peter’s gaze met hers, shoulder’s relaxing.

“No problem” Y/N smiled tightly, a jealous knot forming in her stomach at the sight of the glasses in Peter’s hands. She hated feeling like this. Like her dad.

“You can try them sometime if you want” Peter offered, handing the pair of spectacles over to the student. “You, uh, you probably know more about them than I do anyway.”

Y/N’s awed gaze fell to the AI in her friend’s hand. All that power...and he was just giving it away. “You should keep them” She swallowed, her stomach growing tight, “If I need them I’ll ask.”

Peter nodded, tucking the glasses back into his backpack before drifting off for the rest of the trip.

Thanks for the love!

MASTERLIST.

TAG LIST

@21bruhs @maiabiovillage @spidey-holland7 @petersblake @queen-destenie @thewinchesterchronicles @filthydeatheaters @cutiepiemimi13@happylittlesuns @smolbeanfive @leilei-draws @olivia1112 @avnngrs@suvikamahes98blr @broken-from-fandoms @your-pixels-are-showing@sarablog10 @santa-feigh @jade-mccartney @prettyylamee @badboysdoitbetter2 @isabellapotter15 @keanuuuuuureeeeeeevesssss@kpop-wuver @editsbyjenny @radkryptonitepeanut @wonders-of-the-multiverse @kaylinfayezink @ppunderoos @weyheyavengers@thatsuperherosidekick @dasydni @jackiehollanderr @complete-trash-101 @thatwhitemutant @depressed-comics @bbygrlsyd

If you wanna be tagged or removed let me know!

#peter parker x you #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #beck!reader

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donaldresslerfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Unpredictable

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content.

Word Count: 2867

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Eighty-Two

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Ressler.

After Liz was reinstated, things against Garvey moved fast. Liz saw the littlest sign of hope when she found a witness who could identify him as the killer of the detective that was helping Liz, but quickly lost it when the witness was snatched from Aram's custody.

I'd seen Aram looking over at files and security cameras and CCTV footage in his off time, non stop.

We were stalling in reports so we could get moving. I received an update later in the morning.

"Forensics says the report’s gonna be ready later today." I informed as I walked to Aram's station.

"I promised that we would protect him – that I would protect him." Aram said with a sad look on his face.

"Aram, we’re gonna find out whoever took this witness, all right?" I tried to cheer him up with a pat on the back.

"Tony Mejia was gonna testify that he saw Ian Garvey murder a cop. And thanks to me he probably never will." My eyes fell from him to the side

"Whoa, wait. Is that what I think it is?" I said referring to a little bag I saw peaking from his first desk drawer.

"Oh, uh – it was my grandmother’s. Amethyst is Samar’s birthstone." I chuckled a bit as he handed me the little bag. Birthstones were like zodiac signs to me, how that meant anything related to the day you were born was always going to be a mystery to me.

"Now, here I thought you were all doom and gloom." I opened the box and gave the ring a look, it was a nice ring, definitely fitted Samar. "When are you gonna pop the question?"

"What?" Aram asked with a chuckle and a frown "No. No, no, no, no" he said as I placed the ring back in the bag. "This is not an engagement ring. It’s just a ring."

"But you guys have been dating for over a year. You give her just a ring, she’s gonna think it’s a proposal."

"That’s insane. How can she think it’s a proposal if I do not propose?"

"I can guess what a woman’s gonna do, but why she does it, I got no clue."

"Apparently, I don’t, either."

"Well, why don’t you ask one"

I motioned with my head at Liz, who was walking towards us. Her and Samar tried to convince Aram once again that it wasn't his fault the witness was taken. Upon revising the events, it was obvious it was an ambush. Liz received a call from Reddington and left to meet with him.

We were stalled for a bit until Liz came back, and whilst Samar and I headed out for a case, I leaned that Aram did ask Liz the question about the ring.

"She told me that Samar would only think it's a proposal if she wants to marry me"

I frowned and shook my head a bit. "I guess I really don't know what women want"

He let out a little chuckle and sat down in Samar's chair in our office. "You already have one woman, I guess you only need to know what she wants"

My eyes landed on a photo I had of Mags and Alma when she was a baby. I guess I need to update it. Alma was on her way to her second year already.

"About Liz" I diverted "I don't think we're going to get too far"

"Why do you say that?" he said a little offended by my pessimism.

"Because Reddington is working for his own benefit as always, and we've learned before that even though he cares about Liz, he's always his first priority"

He frowned a bit, confused.

"Do you know about the car? How could you?"

"No, what car?"

"The car we used to transport myself and the witness, it was hijacked, and after I did some digging I got an ID of the person who placed the device. He works for Reddington"

I let out a dry laugh and shook my head.

"See? Reddington is hiding something from Liz, and he values that more than helping her get to the person who killed her husband"

I stood up from the chair with a grunt.

"Makes me sick" I said in a sigh.

I heard someone walk from the stairs, and I exited the office to meet up with Samar and Cooper, he gave us our last directions and we were off again.

That day we resolved the case of the vigilante child bride. I had the chance to go home early and leave the investigation to Samar and Liz. I still couldn't believe she was willing to help Reddington retrieve something he wanted from the girl.

"Don" Maggie called from next to me, I led my eyes to her and then down to Alma who was handing me something.

"Oh look at this" I said taking a piece of paper scribbled all over "what a masterpiece, thanks cupcake" she smiled sheepishly and was off again to continue drawing in the floor in front of us. Mags was watching a movie after we'd had dinner, I was just there to make company.

"Ever since you came back on the taskforce you've been different" she noted. I stopped watching Alma draw and looked up at Mags, she was hugging her legs on her chest, waiting for me to answer.

"I've always hated secrecy and lies and... That's all Liz is getting and I don't think it's fair. I also had a car bomb explode next to me and some idiot stopped me from getting the unsub but that's beside the point"

"I see" she said with a little nod "but is it just the Liz thing that has you worried?"

"Yes" I answered with certainty, because it was. "Everything else is fine. Because we're fine right?" I asked her, she gave me a little smile and ran a hand on her hair.

"I mean we haven't had sex in a week"

"Oh I see, that's all you want me for" I teased as I leaned over her, she gave me an eyeroll as she looked sideways with a smile.

"No" she said with an obvious tone. I grabbed her by the legs and pulled her to me, leaning over her and latching her legs on my sides "the kid is watching"

"She's not" I downed my lips to hers and kissed her. I realized only then that we had been doing our own things and hadn't been together all that much, because I felt like I hadn't enjoyed a kiss with her in a while. She rounded my neck with her arms and I hummed against her lips. "I guess it has been a while uh?" I said quietly over them. She smiled a little and leaned in to kiss me again. I rubbed her waist and pulled her up, sitting back on the couch with her on arms.

"That's not all I want you for" she excused, hugging me by the neck "I just miss you"

"I know" I hugged her tightly by the waist, pulling her closer to my chest "we should go out tomorrow"

"I don't know, you're kind of unpredictable now" the corner of my lip pulled down to give her a sad smile.

It was crazy how we talked about how unpredictable everything was and the next day I got sent to Paris. After we rode in Reddington's private jet to Paris, he left us in the hotel to wait for him. For hours.

I hated when he left us waiting.

"Okay, enough" I said standing from the rather cozy loveseat in the living room, Samar looked up at me with a little frown "where is he? We need to call him, we need to get moving"

"Okay, I'll call him" she said standing and pulling her phone from her jacket.

After finding out that Reddington was kind of planning things as they went, we met up with him later that day.

He went on with the information he had about Mosadek and his security, and by the end of it I was sure it was impossible.

"No way, this could take weeks to plan out correctly, there's no way we're getting in"

"Let alone get Mosadek out" Samar chimed in.

"Oh come on, where's your sense of adventure?" He stressed.

"So you've got a way to get this lowlife out without getting us all killed?"

"The elevator" he replied simply.

"Oh the elevator?" I asked with sarcasm.

"Oh my God, you had the same idea!"

Few were the times when I actually felt like I could jump to Reddington's throat, because I wasn't in the mood the joke, and most definitely not in the mood to die. The elevator sounded like a terrible idea already.

We went on with the plan barely got the guy, and after Reddington interrogated him and somehow involved us all in a bigger thing that the one we signed up for, I had to call Cooper to get authorization. Later that day I face timed Mags to let her know the news.

"Hey princess" I saluted, Maggie smiled.

"Hey love, how are you"

"Daddy!" I heard Alma yell in the background, Maggie chuckled and moved the camera to focus Alma in the background, she was sitting in a chair eating.

"Hey cupcake" I saluted "where are you guys?" I asked after I didn't exactly recognized the furniture of the place.

"Well" Maggie said and turned around to focus Aram on the background. "I'm with Aram, he invited us over for dinner"

"Oh, it's uh, agent Ressler"

Maggie frowned and gave him a side look.

"I know it's hard but you can at least try to call him Donald, his first name is not Agent" she joked, Aram was clearly flustered.

"Okay, hi Donald" he saluted, then frowned "that sounds awful"

Maggie laughed and shook her head.

"What are you two doing?"

"You left me" she stressed "and went out to Paris with his girlfriend"

I stood up and walked around the suite, finding Samar sitting in front of a computer in the living room.

"We're being cheated on" I announced, sitting next to her and focusing us both in the camera.

"Hi Samar" Maggie saluted.

"Oh, hi Maggie. What are you two doing?" Samar asked, clearly weirded out as well.

I don't think either of them were too comfortable knowing that we were hanging out with eachother's partners, but I'd walked on James having breakfast with Mags too many times to be weirded out at this point.

"I think Aram and I would make a better couple, you know why?" Maggie said holding Aram by the shoulders.

"Because you ramble too much?" Samar answered.

"No, because we-" she motioned between them "believe in ghosts"

It was unbelievable how Samar and I grunted in reply.

"Oh yeah, Samar doesn't believe in ghosts" Aram interjected.

"Neither does Donald, he laughs at me"

"Everything that has happened to you, is completely explainable" I said. Aram and Maggie looked at eachother in surprise, I guessed that Samar must tell him the same thing.

"Anyway" Maggie said walking away from Aram "what are you two doing?"

"I saved Dembe from a falling elevator whilst Samar talked to a Parisian old man" I answered, standing up from the chair and heading back to the couch near one of the windows "I'll have to stay in Paris for a few more days"

"Oh, okay" Maggie replied with a little look I couldn't pinpoint "say bye to your dad" she moved the phone to focus Alma. She was still a little weirded out by the FaceTime method, so she kept looking at Maggie while talking to me "say bye"

"Bye" she complied

"Say bye dad"

"Bye dad" she said, then threw me a kiss and a hand wave. I bet Maggie made her do that.

"Bye love, I'll talk to you later" Maggie yelled, then ended the call.

My time in Paris lasted two more days between shots and not so nice runs in the catacombs of Paris. We arrived back home, then Cooper gave us our leave, even though we didn't catch the blacklister, our case was finished.

I arrived home by the time of lunch, though Mags wasn't at the house.

I was rolling my suitcase down the hall towards the bedroom when I heard a scream on the other side of the hallway, I looked up when I heard hurried steps coming down the hall, I bent down to catch Alma in my arms as she came crashing to me.

"Hey cupcake" I said with a chuckle, picking her up and holding my suitcase with my other hand.

"Hi Daddy" she said showing me some kind of dough she had in her hands.

"Did you miss me?"

"Yes" she replied, I set my suitcase near the door of the closet and left Alma on top of our bed

"Really? How much?" I made conversation as I took off my jacket. She extended her arms at her side "wow, that much? That's a lot" I said with a smile. I finished unbuttoning my shirt and headed into the closet to put on a shirt, then changed my pants to some sweatpants and headed out.

Alma was focused on her dough, I picked her up again and headed to the kitchen, Carol was there setting up something for Alma to eat.

"Hey Donald" she saluted "how are you?"

"Half tired" I replied, leaving Alma on the high chair, I'd eaten something on the way, because we were still on Reddington's jet and he doesn't take a "no" for an answer, so I sat next to Alma as she ate.

The phone of the house rang, I picked it up after a few rings because no one called landlines these days.

"Yes"

"Who is this?" I recognized Mags voice.

"This would be Donald Ressler"

"Oh, then this would be your wife" she answered with a chuckle "what are you doing at the house?"

"Just arrived, what are you doing calling the landline?"

"Carol doesn't pick up her phone while working, which I think it's great, but I wanted to let her know I'll take a little longer today, but if you're home then-"

"Yeah, I've got you covered, why do you need time?"

She let out a kind of annoyed sigh "my sister is going to some doctor for some operation and I'm going to take care of her during the post op"

"Something serious?"

"No" she said with a chuckle "not at all, you'll laugh when I tell you"

"Okay love. I'll make you something nice for dinner" I offered.

"Oh, can't wait" she said with a low voice "I'll see you tonight love"

"Love you" I saluted, then hung up.

Maggie.

"A breast augmentation?" Don asked confused, placing a plate of barbecue ribs in front of me, my mouth watered instantly, and even more when he set French fries in front of me.

"Oh my God I love you" I muttered, taking one and eating it quickly "yes, she wants-" I motioned at my breast.

"I mean, don't take me wrong, but your sister doesn't need bigger breasts"

"She's on a 2 for 1 deal, I wanted to check with you"

He looked at me with a twisted eyebrow, then gave me a sly smile.

"You're not against it!" I exclaimed.

"I'm not against it, but you definitely don't need it either" I laughed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for the confidence boost, but I would never get anything done. And my sister is going through some weird middle age crisis thing, even though she's not even 40."

"What's in it for me then?" He joked.

"Is it good?" I said looking at Alma going to town at the ribs. I grabbed a napkin and cleaned up her face. "She's going to surgery in two weeks."

"And the kids?"

"Ethan is going to take care of them for that week"

"Alright then" I looked at him, giving him a smile "I'll take care of the kiddo" he reached to me and rubbed my cheek.

"I love it when you cook for me" I said leaning into his hand.

"I'm trying" I took his hand and kissed his palm, then continued eating because his barbecue ribs were actually heaven.

"What about your whole Liz thing?" I asked, giving that he hadn't talked about it in a while.

"She's working on it, so far not getting us involved all that much" he replied shortly.

"Does that upset you?" He gave me a look over his glass as he took a sip, then twisted his lips.

"A little. She'll come around, Reddington will leave her no choice"

I gave an understanding nod, then leaned my hand to place it on top of his arm.

Sometimes I felt guilty for wishing that Don didn't get involved in Liz's things, I felt bad for wishing he wasn't the way he was, so helpful, so righteous, so overall good. Because when things went bad, they went terrible.

#donald ressler #donald ressler x oc #the blacklist #the bl fanfic #fanfic

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moshymosh · 5 years ago

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The Switch pt 8

A/N: Sorry about not posting this the other day but there will be a double post today, so enjoy i hope you all had a good holiday.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Stark!Reader

Summary: One woman’s dream and one man’s drunken mistake. Will things turn out ok or will things go downhill

|Previous part | Next Part|

"Stay with me now, guys. I've been hanging out a lot with Monet, and Y/N the past couple of days and- and there's similarities, and- and- and coincidences, I mean, I have to run this stuff by Y/N." Bucky said as he got up off his bed and began pacing his room. His mind was racing as he started putting things together.

"What's the matter?" Steve asked. Steve, Sam, and the team were starting to put some things together themselves but never voice their opinions to Bucky and Y/N.

"Here comes the crazy," Bucky said as he stopped and rubbed a hand down his face. "Somehow, it's like the kid is mine. She's more mine than the Viking, I mean in looks. And sometimes she has the same mannerisms as I did when I was a baby, from what I remember my mother telling me."

"The kid might be yours? Viking?" Sam questioned before he went quiet, thinking about something. "I don't know why, vaguely what you're saying- hmm? Bucky, Steve, come to my room?"

The boys ended the call, and both Steve and Bucky headed to Sam's room. Once they were there and sat on the couch, Sam began telling them about the night of the party and Bucky's drunken ramblings in Sam's room before steve put him to bed.

Bucky jumped up from his seat, slightly pissed off. "Hang on! Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Because- Don't get mad at me," Sam said, looking up at Bucky's now pacing form. "Because I-I- you never needed my help before this. I'm giving you everything I have. It was three years ago, you were so drunk and were talking gibberish. I didn't know that heated cup, Y/N's picture, and Vikings meant anything to you."

Sam sighed, looking down at his feet and asked. "What does that even mean?" Steve looked between the two, shaking his head at them being idiots.

"Nathan is the Viking, the Viking is Nathan. Don't you see what that means?" Bucky stated as he stopped pacing and faced Sam.

"Who is Nathan?" Sam asked, looking between Steve and Bucky.

"Y/N's donor is Nathan. Nathan is the Viking." Steve said exasperatedly. "I mean, come on, Sam, you were there."

"So, what about the heated cup?" Sam asked, still slightly confused.

Bucky rubbed his hands across his face, sighing. "Oh my god. Holy shit! I mean, you don't think that I couldn't-."

"What? Bucky, you're stressing me out." Steve said, watching the man.

"The donor cup was the heated cup. You don't think that I swapped the Viking's ingredient for my..." Bucky said as he made a swapping motion with his hands.

Sam nodded his head while he thought, but Steve was the first to speak. " Ok, wow, how would have that even occurred?"

"I'm trying to picture it, was there access to his ingredients?" Sam asked as he held his head in his hands.

"Was there access? I mean, I don't know." Bucky thought about it before he looked up in shock.

Steve watched him. "uh oh, oh jeez, I'm getting about feeling about this."

Bucky sighed and flopped back into his seat on Sam's couch. "Yeah, I think there was access." Bucky hid his face in his hands. "Yeah, there was access. Oh my god!"

Steve shook his head. "I don't like the way this is going." Steve said, looking at Bucky.

"Oh god, I had Y/N's picture in the bathroom, I think." Bucky said behind his hands before he dropped them. "I switched it."

"Aye!" Both Sam and Steve said at the same time.

"You switched it? Really?" Steve said, shaking his head again in disappointment.

"I hijacked Y/N's pregnancy?!" Bucky gasped out. "How do I- How do I not remember that?"

"We know about your love for Y/N, but that's an all-time low to get her to have feelings for you." Sam teased.

"Oh god, I have to go tell her!" Bucky exclaimed, jumping up from the couch.

"Dude, it's three in the morning. You wake Monet, and she'll be pissed." Steve said.

"Yeah... Yeah, you're right." Bucky agreed.

The trio all went back to their rooms. Bucky was awake the rest of the night, thinking about what he was going to do.

"Oh god, what did I do?" Bucky asked himself as he shook his head in his hands

------------------------------------------------

Tags: @vgiselle

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #seb stan x reader #seb stan x y/n #seb stan x you #Moshymoshwrites #Karmawrites

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spideyspoods · 5 years ago

Text

Deception

Pairing: Peter Parker X F!Villain!Reader

A/N: Screw tumblr mobile for deleting my fic (again)!!!! You’ll probably notice that this seems similar to @marvelsswansong‘s series Kalopsia (would recommend) and I’m sorry about that, but it happened to be purely coincidental and we came to the conclusion that it was okay to post anyways, but I made sure to add a disclaimer anyways :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Manipulation and a bit of angst. Far From Home spoilers!

Masterlist!

The class split up into their own groups, ready to explore everything Venice had to offer. Originally, Peter planned on sightseeing with Ned until he fell for Betty in what seemed like an instant. Unfortunately for Peter, he had no backup plan. He could either walk around aimlessly, pretending to be busy or muster enough courage to join Y/N L/N and her friends. It’s not like the latter was impossible, it was just complicated.

They’ve known each other since the very first day of high school and it seemed to be perfect. From the instant they talked, both of them knew that their friendship was there to last. She had stuck with him through the highs and lows; hell, she even knew about his biggest secret. Turns out hiding the fact that you’re some sort of superhero was hard to keep from your best friend.

So why was he nervous? Why did he feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest? He gripped onto the strap of his backpack hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Peter wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he might have a small crush on her. Sometimes, she would talk or act in a certain way to make it look like she felt the same way as he did. “Hey, Parker!” a melodic voice called out, taking him out of his racing thoughts. His eyes shot up to see the very same girl in the center of a few classmates waving in her direction, “Tell these idiots that I’m not the one who crashed into Flash’s car!” He laughed, inching his way closer towards the small crowd. He had remembered that day all too well. “Seems like I have a video that says otherwise.” Y/N stared him down, disappointed in him not covering for her while he shrugged.

The water trembled and began to form erratic waves that bashed against the wooden docks. Peter felt chills run down his spine and made eye contact with her, to which she understood. A second later, a geyser shot up to take the form of a man made of water. “Come on, let’s move!” Y/N pointed towards a closed in area, pushing people away from the scene. She waited for everyone to follow, before turning to see a green ray blast through the monster. Y/N smiled, shutting the doors.

---

The class was dismissed, heading back to their small hotel rooms for the night. Y/N dried the ends of her hair while chatting with Ned and Peter. “I still don’t understand how you were so calm during that whole Mysterio thing.”

“Hidden talent. I’m just a calm person.” Y/N folded the towel, and looked to Peter who seemed to be somewhere else. “Earth to Parker, you doing okay?” “Hey, give him a break. He just fought a water demon, Y/N.” Peter shook his head, “Yeah, yeah I’m alright. I just can’t believe I’m one day into vacation and this happens.”

“Be proud of yourself, Parker. It was kind of cool,” Y/N trailed off, smirking. Peter’s cheeks flushed, while Ned watched the two of them with a knowing look. Y/N broke off the eye contact and coughed, “Well I need to get going before Mr. Harrington comes for me. See you later.”

Y/N turned around and turned the corner, still hearing Ned’s voice. “Dude she likes you!” While it was true, she couldn’t let her feelings get the best of her. The door to her room creaked open, Betty already sleeping peacefully. The phone in her pocket vibrated and she picked it up.

about to meet him. he ask any questions?

Y/N quickly typed a reply back, none. get him it’s almost showtime.

---

The following day, everyone packed up and found a black charter bus waiting for them. Peter sighed, knowing the reason behind the sudden change. Y/N stopped next to him, looking for him to speak. “I think Nick Fury hijacked our vacation.” Her eyes bulged out of her head, practically whisper yelling. “Wait you met Fury? You better tell me everything, we have nine hours to kill.”

Y/N took the window seat while Peter sat right next to her. “Well I met Mysterio, apparently his name is actually Quentin.” She stifled a laugh which was met with a playful grin. “Sorry, but who names their kid Quentin?”

He continued to explain everything from the elementals to his new mission in Prague. “Also Fury gave me this gift. Well it’s actually from Tony, but he gave it to Fury who gave it to me-” he continued to ramble, before calming himself down. He pulled out a wooden glasses case and he opened it carefully. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, realizing what it was. He slipped them on, hearing a computerized voice. “Hello, Peter. My name is EDITH which stands for ‘Even Dead, I’m the Hero. Tony liked his acronyms.”

“Yeah, he did.” his voice faint, sadness panged his face. Y/N looked away, focusing on the real task at hand. She would have to wait for the next pit stop, seeing as if EDITH could look right through her phone if it was on.

“Y/N remember. We’re in it for the long game.”

---

Two hours later, they arrived to their rest stop. Everyone practically ran to the bathrooms, while Y/N turned to the left. She stood in a corner, frantically typing on her phone.

He has EDITH and explained everything.

Y/N pushed open the door, to reveal a small wooden room with a pool table. Her eyes darted to Peter with his pants down, in front of a tall European lady who stood still and intimidating. “Y/N! I promise, this isn’t what it looks like!” Her eyes welled with tears and it took everything in her to keep them from streaming. “Well it seems pretty clear from where I’m standing, Parker.” She turned right around, making sure that the door shut loudly. Y/N wiped the tears away, stomping back to the bus and into a seat as far away from him as possible. She didn’t know why she felt jealous or why she was this angry. Peter was her best friend, and they were in no means together on any term. Yet, it felt like it was an unspoken rule between them. Nothing seems to make sense anymore, she thought to herself. Her phone chimed one more time.

Perfect. Don’t let your feelings get in the way.

But it was too late.

---

Y/N had iced Peter out completely. It was better this way, as she knew what would happen in a matter of days. He had tried so hard to talk to her, only for her to walk away or find someone else to talk to. Ned was too lovesick to offer any genuine advice while MJ could have cared less. He had nowhere else to turn to aside from his Aunt May. She wanted more than anything to see the two together ever since they had met, even going out of her way to drop hints to the two kids. His phone continued to ring, before being sent to voicemail. He had almost forgotten about time zones.

---

They arrived to the empty opera house, a few minutes before curtain. His annoyed classmates found their seats, Peter scanning for Y/N in hopes to apologize. He stopped Ned at the door, “Hey where is she?”

“Oh she’s still not feeling well. You messed up big time.” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know, I was trying to apologize to her but-”

Parker, are you in position? Fury asked. “No.” Ned furrowed his brows as Peter muted his mic. “I gotta go.”

After a grueling fight with the fire elemental, Peter felt drained. Quentin’s eyes fluttered awake before slowly bringing himself to his feet. “Come on, kid. I need a drink.” He staggered to a bar, detaching his cape. “I’m underage!”

---

“I can tell something’s distracting you, kid. What is it?” Peter sipped on what seemed to be his third lemonade of the night. “It’s just that I had this chance with this girl and I kind of blew it.”

“How so?” Quentin took another sip of his drink, resting a bruised arm on the wooden bar. “I’ve known her for a long time and while I was trying on this suit, she walked in and thought something else was happening. Even though it wasn’t, she wouldn’t listen to me!” He paused, lowering his head “I was going to ask her out tonight, too. She’s been ignoring me and that whole mission thing, it’s kind of a mess.”

“You’re right, you did blow it. Well what’s her name?” He chugged the amber liquid in his glass, waiting for him to speak. “Her name is Y/N.”

Quentin’s brows shot up and he drew back. He swore he could have felt his heart stop for a minute. Damn it. “I’m sorry to hear that, Peter. You’re a nice guy, and I think she’ll come around. Just give her some time.” He stated, hoping that he didn’t hear the shakiness in his voice. At that moment, a bartender handed Peter back the glasses which he didn’t even notice were gone.

“Those were just sitting on the ground?”

“Yeah, seems like it.”

“Well try them on!” Peter reluctantly put the glasses on his face, looking back with a little smile. He tried to gage an emotion from the man sitting across from him, but his face was unreadable. “Can I be honest?” Peter nodded. “They look a little dumb.” With a frown, he took them off and handed them to Quentin. “Try them on.”

“I can’t.”

“Try them!” He pushed them up on the bridge of his nose, raising one eyebrow. Peter began to see Tony in him; someone he could trust. “For the next Tony Stark, I trust you.” he muttered.

“What?”

He repeated the same thing, a bit more confident. “Maybe Mr. Stark gave them to me so I can choose who to give it to.”

“Peter, come on. Be serious.” Peter took back the glasses and tapped the side, “Hey, EDITH. Transfer all control to Quentin Beck.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m doing the right thing.”

Any transfer will require confirmation.

“Stark gave you the glasses!”

“Stark gave me a choice, it’s my choice to make and I’m going to make it. Look, you’re a soldier! You stopped the elementals, you saved my life, you saved the world! He’d want you to have them.”

Awaiting confirmation.

“Confirm.”

Knowing that the kid was already too stubborn, Quentin reluctantly took them into his hands. “Thank you, it’s an honor. Now go and enjoy your vacation.” With one last smile, Peter collected his things and went out the door.

---

Y/N neatly folded her clothes back into her suitcase, zipping it up and setting it near the door. She huffed, just wanting to get this whole ordeal over with. The ornate hotel room filled with glimmering decorations and beautiful furniture felt empty, but she shook it off. She knew that she shouldn’t have gotten attached, everyone warned her but she did anyways. The silk curtains billowed in the wind and as Y/N went to close the window, she noticed two familiar figures with a projector piece. Peter and MJ. Shit.

Her phone chimed, a message coming from exactly who she thought it would be.

Got EDITH, meet me at the base. you and i have a lot to talk about.

Y/N bolted down the marble stairs and practically burst through the doors. She started to run, only seeing the faint light of the streetlamps. Minutes later, she heard someone call out her name. “Y/N!” Peter. He stopped her by holding her shoulders, making her face him. His brown eyes were filled with guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry, but you have to listen to me. Wait, I thought you were sick?” A part of her wanted to forgive him; to make everything go back to normal. Distancing herself seemed like the easiest way, but no one told her that it was the most painful way too.

“You’re right, I am sick” she snapped, wriggling out of his grasp. “Sick of you. I have to go.” Her words laced with venom unlike any other rang through his mind as she walked away without looking back.

---

Y/N took a deep breath before opening the doors. She had walked in the midst of their test run. Cloaked drones hovered, playing out a sequence. Quentin had taken notice of her entrance, making them pause. “Sweetheart.”

“Dad,” a bitter tone to her voice, “what do you need this time?”

“I thought we were on the same page. What was the one thing I told you not to do?” He crossed his arms, mirroring his daughter’s movements.

“Let my feelings get in the way.”

“Now imagine hearing that your target is head over heels for your own daughter. Crazy, right?” He looked down to her, eye contact unwavering.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Her mind drifting to the fight not even moments ago. “He told me everything that happened between the both of you. You’re making this harder for all of us, Y/N. You know, you’re just like your mother. You both let your feelings get the best of you.”

“Sure that I didn’t get it from you?” She stepped past him, only for him to grip onto her forearm. “Y/N you have to understand, I didn’t want to hurt him. Now you’ve left me no choice.”

“What do you mean? We agreed to leave him out of this!” Her voice rising.

He let out a wry laugh, turning away just to look back at her. “Were you not going to tell me that he knew? A projector is missing and both know who has it.” Of course he knew, she never managed to get anything past him.

“Dad, please” she pleaded. Deep down, she felt like a fool. This would have been avoidable, after all. Quentin’s eyes softened, and he pulled her in for a hug. “You know that I only want what’s best for you, right? In fact, I’ve got a brilliant idea and I can’t do it without you.” Her father’s demeanor changed under a split second, and she never knew what was going on in his head. An illusion of his own, she would tell herself. It looked like he was so wrapped up in fooling others with disguises and holograms that he forgot who he truly was. Her father wasn’t always like this, it only started to show years back when he let jealousy dictate his every move.

“What are we making this time?”

“Something tailored for the kid. Maybe these emotions had a silver lining, you know everything that he’s terrified of, right?”

Y/N hated that she continued to fight for him, knowing how many lives he had thrown away, but early on she realized there was no other way out. Quentin’s assistants followed him into the lab to get started on Peter’s nightmare. Y/N lagged behind, looking to the surveillance of Peter finding the drone.

I’m sorry.

thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated, but not required! my requests and taglist are open, both links are in my desc!

taglist: @parkeret @savedbystark @harrysbbby @cutiepiemimi13 @leelee--thebaek @softrdj @happylittlesuns @lovertony @anolddayslover @astromilku @ninja-boss-barbie @hollandsthot

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primal-screamer-blog1 · 6 years ago

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Mutually Assured Destruction (Playlist Here) Rating: Mature Pairing: Nikki Sixx/F. OC Description: Growing restless in his discontent, Nikki Sixx is plagued with past anxieties that he never could find the courage to confront. He’d seen and done it all but when it came to Ruby Moon, he’d always felt he had unfinished business. Now, years after their tumultuous relationship had seemingly come to an end, Nikki finds himself compulsively recounting memories and asking questions only she would have the answers to. current word count 16,606

Prologue One : Red When I See You Two : Attention, Affection Three : Think About What You Know Four : Patience A/N: This one took me awhile because honestly, it’s a bit light on Nikki. There’s a lot of exposition here but thankfully this will be the last chapter where that happens. We’re much closer to them being together than it may seem. Surprise feature in here. Hope you enjoy xo masterlist.

1983 Vince got put on the cover of Kerrang! Magazine. After that, every changed. The boys were hungrier than ever and still, no one would sign them. They were too new and too much of a risk; Nikki was lighting himself on fire every night while Mick was slowly locking in place. But the crowds were becoming too much to handle. They broke attendance records at clubs all over town and eventually someone called in the fire marshall. But with no album, they were barred from access to bigger venues - no one was taking them seriously. So they did it themselves. Nikki locked himself in the studio all summer with Motley Crue. Four long weeks, high on coke and shoved in a tiny recording booth with three other guys for seventeen hours a day, he was feeling tense and tight. It was up in the mornings with cocaine and down in the afternoon with full handles of whiskey. Managing his stress, and therein his substance intake, became more important than staying fed so he was flat broke too. And then the album came out. People couldn’t buy Too Fast For Love fast enough. By the time the first pressing had run out, they sold out a 3,500 seat arena in San Francisco, a full 378 miles away from L.A. And the record labels took notice. Elektra sent them on tour to Canada, footing the bill and signing them for the next seven years. The makeup, the stage show, the clothes, Tommy’s sticks spinning in the air; it’d worked. Motley Crue made it. And in the meantime, while Nikki was in and out the studio, up and down on planes and playing shows to thousands of people in another country, Ruby met someone. A few advertising executives from Palo Alto were taking the night off from their business trip in L.A. at the Seventh Veil. They were in L.A. because they’d just closed a massive deal with Calvin Klein and were contracted to run a billboard campaign. They were scouting locations. What they found, were models. Ruby and Roxanne could be seen topless, with their backs turned, fourteen feet high on five major highways in California. The girls were rendered in black and white, tight Calvin Klein jeans hugging their hips. They clutched hands, Roxanne looking down, her blonde hair splayed down her back, Ruby looking over her shoulder and smiling flirtatiously into the camera. California Girls wear Calvins. For the two weeks following, The Seventh Veil received calls daily asking for Ruby. Plenty of local boys had come in to watch her and Roxanne, to gape at the girls they saw on the billboard, but the same guys started calling at least once a day. And every time her manager asked her if she wanted to take it, she said no. She didn’t want to be a model and so she didn’t want the attention. She wanted to pay the bills and that was the extent of her interest in Calvin Klein. The paycheck was more than she’d seen in her life, but she considered it nothing more than luck. What she really wanted, one of the only things she cared about really, was to play music. She finally found a guitar player, a tall, skinny boy from Nebraska named Billie. Billie had shaggy black hair and was raised on classical music. He only wore black and when his fingers moved across a fretboard, his hands looked like frantic spiders, jumping and sliding across the guitar. He listened to DeBussy, read Fangoria and exclusively drank black coffee with a double shot of whiskey, no matter the hour. He also insisted that they were the Plastics and never The Plastix ever again. Ruby introduced Billie to Alex, a teenage Mexican punk with a skunky two toned shag. Alex liked the Circle Jerks, double cheese pizza and banging on drums. He also liked Billie and Ruby. That was about it. They were missing a bass player, but together, they started writing songs in Billie’s basement apartment every day. Ruby had no intention of losing focus. She was making money and making music. It was everything she had come to Los Angeles to do. So it was really frustrating for her when this guy kept calling. “Ruby, please just take it!” Roxanne begged her after picking up the phone. Roxanne had become paranoid with all the new found attention they were receiving. Ruby may have had her one persistent caller but when the guys came in, they wanted to see Roxanne. They were getting aggressive and it was beginning to stress her out. “Ruby if you don’t answer, he’s never gonna stop. Just take the call so he can leave us all alone.” Roxanne looked like she might quit right then and there if she didn’t. Ruby sighed. “What’s his name even?” “Says his name is Axl.” She raised an eyebrow. “Another fucking rock star?” Ruby rolled her eyes. She grabbed the phone from Roxanne, who quickly replaced it with a drink and stormed off. “Listen to me, you little creep. I’ve been turning you down for two weeks now. What do you fucking want?” She heard a low, heady laugh on the other end. “How about you turn me down to my fucking face?” She didn’t stand a chance. Axl was gorgeous. He had long red hair, a big, wide mouth and intense, startling green eyes. He showed up in a tight cut off Iron Maiden t shirt, a red bandana tied around his forehead and torn up jeans tucked into heavy army boots with the tongues pulled out. A toothpick hung from his lips. “Your name’s Ruby, right?” “How do you even know that?” She shot at him, her hands on her hips and her mouth fixed in a scowl. A smile spread across Axl’s lips. He let out the same slow laugh she heard on the phone. “You’re even cuter when you’re angry.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “How did you find me, asshole? Only local boys know where we’re at, what’s your deal?” “Your pictures on the fucking 405, sweetheart. You’re not hard to find.” “Alright, great. Look, Axl, right? I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” “There’s a company name on the back of the billboard,” He cut her off. “So I looked it up in the phone book and I called it. The guy on the other end told me he had no fucking clue who you were, but that I could call the ad agency and then he fucking laughed at me and was all like ‘good luck, kid’ as if I’m not standing here right fucking now. Fucking prick. Anyway,” Axl took a breath while he flipped his toothpick around. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he was rambling, his voice deep and his cadence slow. It was only hypnotic in that she had to try hard to pay attention. She found she was more watching him than listening to him, his green eyes shifting about. “So I called the ad agency and they were like ‘that’s Ruby Moon. She’s fucking something, huh?’ I was like god damn right, man. Where the fuck can I find her? And so like, they just gave me your fucking information, which like, totally fucking warped, by the way. Turns out, I been living down the street from here the past six months. Fucking bizarre. So I figured I’d call you up and see if I could come talk to you.” “Yeah…fucking bizarre.” She trailed off, staring at him. He seemed frustrated about something, more than just a little cagey. He stood with his arms across his chest and though he went on in a bit of rigid tone, he looked at her like all he’d done was casually comment on the weather. But recounting his story, something about him seemed almost painfully sweet, if not niave and sentimental. She loosened up a little. “You really did all that?” “Yeah, I mean…you got eyes that knocked me the fuck out.” Finally, he smiled. She had to look away to keep from blushing. She felt embarrassed and flattered. She didn’t know why. She got asked out on dates constantly working at the club, but Axl didn’t seem all that interested in the strip club. He seemed interested in her. "So....what?” She almost stuttered. “Did you like wanna go on a date or something? Is that why you're here?" "Nah, I just had to come see what you were about." She tilted her head at him, confused as to what exactly he was here for. A slow look of realization spread across his face. “Oh, wait, would you go on a date with me?” “That’s not what you came here for?” “No fuckin’ way. You’d go out with me? For real?” She couldn’t turn him down at that point. Axl didn’t take Ruby out to dinner or for drinks like most guys did. Instead, he bought two 40 ounces of malt liquor from the gas station and took her onto the public transit bus. She agreed to go out with him that night, his fascination with her quickly becoming mutual. It was 2:30 in the morning and she’d just gotten out of work. “You know, I have a car. I could’ve drove.” She told him, pulling a black denim jacket over her cropped tank top. “Get your own date.” He nudged her in the shoulder. “I’m not letting you hijack mine.” Axl told Ruby that he was from Indiana and, like many, moved here to start a band. He wanted to sing. “My voice is kinda weird, not a lot of people really get what I’m trying to do.” He said. “I’m with these guys right now, Hollywood Rose. I don’t really know how long it’ll last. This guy Izzy is a fucking great guitar player though. I just want it to go somewhere.” She told him about the Plastics and their new direction with their new guitar player. “Kind of punk, kind of glam, but also, kind of not at all.” She explained it. They talked about influences from Kiss and Aerosmith to Velvet Underground and Patti Smith. Axl argued that punk was transgressive. “Devil’s Advocate.” He added. “I love punk rock.” “Transgression is exactly the point, right? Transgress in technology, you can progress in ideology.” She tapped a long finger nail to her temple. He almost laughed at her. “Why the fuck are you a stripper?” “Because I fucking love it, asshole!” “You sound like you went to college.” She laughed. She wasn’t about to tell him her life story. They got off at the last stop. They’d been on the bus for about an hour and the streetlights stopped appearing. There was only one other person on the bus, a small old woman asleep in the front. Axl and Ruby sat in the back, each of their legs flung over the others and giggling while they traded a bottle back and forth. “Is this where you murder me?” She asked, peering out the window at the desolate road they plugged along, hills rising all around them. “We don’t have to go.” He said, looking concerned. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” Ruby pinched her brows together, not used to hearing something like that come out of a guys mouth. For a moment she considered what he meant; she really had no idea who he was or where they were. “I’ll take my chances.” She grinned at him. He smiled back at her and put his hand on her thigh. She let him keep it there. When the bus finally stopped, they were on a wooded road at the last exit before the Hollywood sign. Axl kicked at the dirt under his boots and lit up a cigarette. Ruby looked up and down the road, cracked and covered with potholes. It was hard to see the night sky, tall trees stretching together above them. She could tell they were high up in the Hollywood Hills, the temperature having dropped significantly from when they left the strip. “Where are we?” She asked, joining him and lighting up her own smoke. “Mount Lee.” He exhaled. “C’mon. We’re not too far.” “We’re going hiking?” She asked him, watching him start to lead her down the road. “Not even. There’s a path right up here.” He said, sticking his hand out at her. “C’mon.” She looked at it for a moment, unsure of herself suddenly. “You want me to hold your hand?” “What are you, a robot or something? Yeah, hold my hand.” She thought about it for a moment. All the intimacy she encountered since she’d been in California had only taken place in someone’s bed. In a bathroom stall, up against a wall at a party, all the same; she realized this was the first date she didn’t feel any expectations. She felt that she could just as easily tell Axl no as she could take his hand and walk with him and it wouldn’t matter to him. So she did. His hand was big and warm. She smiled as he led her past a large wooden sign, Trail Marker 13.3 Miles etched into it. They went into the brush and down a small dirt path. She was thankful she changed into her street clothes before leaving work, dreading just the idea of walking around the dirt in heels. “How did you find this spot?” She asked as they weaved through the dark, trees and foliage closing in around them. “I was in a pretty fucked up place when I first got here.” He told her, pulling a branch out of the way and holding it back for her. “I used to come up here and drink by myself when I didn’t have a place to stay. Just wander around in the dark feeling like a fucking wolf.” “Are wolves nocturnal?” “What?” “Like are they mostly active at night?” “I don’t fucking know. They’re always howling at the moon and shit, right?” “Yeah, I guess so.” “We’re almost there. It’s right up ahead.” The full silver moon above illuminated a small clearing of tall grass and purple wildflowers. Axl walked in ahead of her and sprawled out in the grass. She looked up and took a hesitant step in. There seemed to be a million more stars in the sky than there were in the city, the night a crisp, clean black and white. “C’mere.” Axl called out to her, tipping the bottom of his bottle up at the sky. She stepped all the way out into the clearing and he picked himself up on his elbows. She sat down next him and took the malt liquor, taking a deep swig of her own. “It’s really beautiful up here.” She told him. “You’re really fucking beautiful up here.” He said, staring back at her. She instinctively looked away to hide her smile, feeling on spot under his gaze. “No, c’mon. Lemme see it in person.” He gently placed his big, warm hand on her neck and guided her face back to him. Her smile fell slightly and she blinked up into his eyes. His wide grin came back. “God damn it.” “Why are you being so sweet to me?” “I dunno.” He shrugged and gave her a knowing smirk, keeping his answers to himself. His hand slid from her neck to her back and she pulled in closer to him. “Why are you so surprised?” He asked her. She nuzzled her head into his chest before pressing her lips softly to his throat. “I dunno.” He made a satisfied hum and worked his hand into her hair. He gently tugged it so that she looked up at him. He held her there for a moment and moved the loose strands out of her face.“Why’d you come out with my tonight?” He searched her eyes, the same color green as his. She caught her breath and let out a sound between a whimper and a giggle, feeling on spot. He let his hand fall and trace her collar bone with his thumb. “Give me a break. You know you’re gorgeous. That’s why you wanted to see me in person, right?” “Be for real.” He tried not to smile. She took in a deep sigh and looked down, needing a moment from his concentration. “Honestly?” She began, considering her words. “You seemed exciting.” “Bus ride change your mind?” “No. Not at all. Most guys just wanna go out with me so they can tell their friends they got with a stripper. I still don’t really know what you want.” She pulled his hand up to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “Axl.” She murmured his name, glancing up at him. They both let their guards down. He pushed his mouth onto hers. She felt a warmth spread in her chest as she breathed in deep, pulling herself onto his lap. She draped her arms down his back, his hands holding onto her hips and grabbing at her thighs as his tongue opened her mouth. Beneath the moonlight, Ruby and Axl kissed and touched and rolled on top of each other until it faded and the sun took its place. In the vibrant orange and pink of daybreak, the crickets making their last calls in the trees, Axl pulled Ruby’s shirt over her head and kissed her breasts. She took off her bra and he took off his pants and a warm breeze rolled over them, until eventually, they were naked in the morning light. He held her tight and pushed deep into her until she squeezed around his whole body; his cock, his waist, his shoulders. Her nails grazed down his back, on top of her until she loosened again. She smiled in his arms and he kissed her forehead and her lips and her shoulders, pulling her jacket around her and laying naked in the sun until they heard a group of hikers falling in in the distance. For the next three weeks, Ruby had Axl in the morning, band practice in the afternoon, work at Seventh Veil at night and would be back in bed with Axl by the end of it all. They showed each other songs the other had written and smoked joints by the pool in her apartment complex. They sang duets in the shower together and sat in awe of the other’s voice. Izzy or Billie would stop by to shoot the shit and play guitar, exchanging ideas for the Plastics and Hollywood Rose. The diner down the street from her house had already taken note of her usual egg white and black coffee. Now when she came in, they had a cheeseburger and a double order of fries ready for Axl. They would eat, smoke and talk into the night until they found themselves tangled up in her bed again until the sun came up again. Until one morning her phone rang. “Ruby! We saw you and Roxie in a magazine in goddamn Canada! What the fuck?” Tommy’s excited voice came over the end. “Tommy?!” She gasped excitedly into the phone. She hadn’t heard from any of the boys in Motley Crue since they left for tour. She kept so busy, she almost didn’t notice they’d been gone for longer than they said they’d be. “I’m so excited to hear from you. Where are you guys?” “We’re in Toronto! We’ve been selling out every night, they had to add extra dates to the tour!” “No fucking way, that’s amazing! Are you loving it?” “I’m having the time of my fucking life, Ruby Red. I hope this tour never ends.” “I fucking hope it does. I need you guys to come back! I miss you all so much.” “I’m always missing you, California Girl. You’re famous now too!” He said, referencing the slogan on her ad. “She’s from fucking New York!” She heard Nikki’s muffled shouting over the phone. “Wow he’s just so supportive.” She said sarcastically. “Ah, you know Nikki. He’ll never be happy.” Tommy laughed. “Hey, fuck you!” She heard Nikki again. “Dude, take the phone.” Tommy rustled around and Nikki muttered something unintelligible to him. “Talk to Ruby, dickweed. Ow! Alright, well whatever. I tried!” “Don’t worry about it, Tommy, he’ll have to talk to me someday.” She joked. “Hey, we’re gonna be back in two days. The label is throwing us a party at Nikki’s new place and you gotta be there! I wanna hear all about how you got in a fucking magazine.” “I got nothing but time for you, T-Bone.” She hung up the phone in the kitchen, pulling her blanket around her naked body. Her bare feet padded across the black tile and into her bedroom where Axl still slept. She leaned against the doorframe and looked at his hair falling down his back, his shoulders gently rising and falling with his heavy breathing. He let out a snore and she giggled quietly before falling back into bed with him. He made a noise in his throat as she laid kisses on his shoulder blade. “Who’s on the phone this early?” He groaned and rolled over, pulling her on top of him, keeping his eyes closed. “My friend Tommy. He’s a drummer. They’re coming back from tour in a few days.” “Fucking lucky.” Axl pulled a pillow over his face. Ruby sat up and ran a finger down his ribs. “Hey Axl?” “Baby.” He sat up, hearing a slight rise in her voice that let him know she had something serious to say. He held back a yawn, trying to rub the sleep from his heavy eyes. She grabbed onto his hand - something she no longer found intimidating. “You mind if I just hang by myself tonight?” He quirked a somewhat spiteful smile at her. “You finally getting tired of me?” “God, no.” She laid a kiss on his shoulder. “I just wanna get some alone time before my friends get back into town.” “You’re just so popular.” He teased her and gave her nipple a hard flick before laying back down. “Get on top of me, popular girl. I wanna feel like a fucking football player.” “Oh my God, fuck off.” She laughed as he pulled her on top of him. He fucked her good and hard before kissing her goodbye. “I’ll call you in a few days. I gotta see Izzy anyway. Says he found this wild guitar player I gotta check out, so we’ll be tracking him down.” Ruby took the night off. The piping hot bath tub simmered as the bubbles grew taller. With a bottle of champagne and the local rock station playing, she slipped in for the night to clear her head. However the radio had other plans. “Ladies and gentlemen, exploding hot on the scene and closing out their first international tour, we have Motley Crue rocking the airwaves tonight with their first hit single, 10 Seconds To Love! Check this one out, listeners and stay tuned for your chance to win a signed copy of the record! Rock n Roll!” She popped the bottle and let the foam run into the tub. She wouldn’t be bothering with a glass. She hadn’t thought about Nikki since they left. She made an effort not to. Things had been strained between the two of them in the weeks before tour. Without seeing much of the other, their last serious conversation didn’t have much resolve. And how could it? She thought. She didn’t know where things were going with Axl. She knew that she really liked him, but she also knew when she told Nikki she didn’t want a boyfriend, she meant it. She drank from her bottle of champagne and submerged beneath the bubbles. She thought about Nikki. She thought about how much she missed him. One late night while the boys were recording, Nikki had shown up on her doorstep unannounced. His head was hurting and his stomach was growling. “I can’t get these fucking songs out of my head.” He sighed in the doorway, soaking wet from the downpour outside. She rushed him in and got him a towel while he dropped his sopping t shirt in a puddle on the floor. “Take a shower.” She told him, holding the towel out at arms length. “You stink.” When he emerged, clean and warm, his hair was wet and laid flat. He shivered in his briefs, joining Ruby where she sat on the couch. She was in a pair of sweatpants and an old high school chorus line t shirt, makeup wiped from her face and her hair pulled back. It was a rare sight for both of them to be seen like this. As he sat down, she got up and rounded into the kitchen. She came back with a heaping plate of leftover spaghetti in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other. “Eat up.” She told him, handing him off the plate. “Sorry for showing up so late.” He said, leaning over and scarfing down the food. “It’s fine.” She said, watching him with concern. “When’s the last time you ate?” “I don’t know.” “Jesus. You gotta take better care of yourself, Sixx.” “I gotta get this fucking record done first.” After a few huge bites, he took the rum from her and washed down his massive helping. He hadn’t realized he was so hungry. He sighed and finally relaxed into the couch. He pulled a wool blanket off the arm and wrapped it around himself. “Your place is so fucking nice.” “Having a job is nice.” “I’m gonna have a place of my own one day.” “Yeah you fucking are.” She grabbed the rum back from him. “This album is gonna blow people’s minds, Nikki. When you see that, you’re not even gonna remember nights like tonight.” He shifted in his place, hiccuping from how quickly he drank and ate. “I want to though.” He chugged more rum. “Well, you’re definitely not going to at this rate.” He looked up at her and blinked hard, his eyes bloodshot through smudged eyeliner he wasn’t able to wipe off. He groaned. “Ruby, I’m sorry for being such a shit head.” “What ever could you be talking about, Nikki?” She smiled sarcastically at him. “You’re the worst.” “No, please, say it again. I wanna hear a long apology.” “C’mon, I’m being serious.” “I am too! Suck it up, Sixx. I’m gonna give you all the shit I can.” “Fine. Fine. Fuck. I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole. You don’t deserve any of that.” He rolled his head on his shoulder to look away from her. “You’re allowed to do whatever the fuck you want. I can’t complain about you living your life. That’s fucked up for me to do.” “Nikki, you know I love you. Right?” “You do?” “Of course, I do. You know I do. Why else would I let you in my house at three in the morning?” He chewed on the inside of his lip, frustrated with himself and for some reason, still frustrated with Ruby. He meant what he said, it’d been on his mind all day. But hearing her say that she loved him somehow made him feel worse than before. He pulled his knees into his chest. “Yeah, sure. Love you too.” He didn’t mean it the same way she did. Not in this context anyway, and he knew it was the only context he’d hear it in. She pretended not to notice. “Nothing is ever coming between us, okay? I promise.” In the tub, she thought about Axl again as she remembered her words to Nikki. All she could do was sink deeper into the bubbles and hope it was true. Taglist: @triplehaitches @vamprlestat

#motley crue #nikki sixx #fan fiction #fan fic #motleycruefanfiction #motley crue fan fic

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munchyn · 6 years ago

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Blue Eyes| Daniel x Reader Chapter 10- Philophobia

I grabbed the armrests of my seat as the plane started its process of landing. I wasn't usually afraid of flying.

The plane shook and I gripped onto the armrests tighter. I pressed myself against the back of my seat to try to keep myself in place. The plane was almost reaching the ground and when it finally landed, the shaking stopped and I felt it was finally safe to open my eyes. When had I closed them? My face hurt from how hard I had been clenching my eyes shut.

I looked down the isle and saw Jonah looking back at me with a worried look. I smiled at him and and hoped he hadn't seen me in my frightened state. But the odds weren't in my favour. They never were.

I stood up from my seat and reached up to open the compartment. The man I had been sitting with throughout the flight helped me get my carry on from the it when he saw me struggling.

I got my backpack from underneath the seat and walked down the isle with the other passengers. When I got to the rows where the boys were sitting in, Daniel went into the isle and held my free hand.

"You're hand is so sweaty," he said and I tried pulling my hand away but he held on tighter. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say. "It's just been a while since I had been on a plane." That wasn't true. I had flown on a plane last summer when me and my family went to Greece for a holiday.

I followed the passengers down the isle and smiled at the flight attendant before going off the plane and through the bridge into the airport. Me and the guys passed the passport check and got our luggage. Once that was done we went out into the LA air. Which was a little chilly, something that I hadn't expected.

I looked around at the people that where currently surrounding me to see if I could find my aunt among them. I saw her waiting next to her van and I ran over to hug her. We greeted each other and she helped me get my bags into the van.

I looked back at the guys and saw that they were coming over here.

"Hey there," said Jonah. He took my aunts hand and shook it. "You must be Y/n's aunt, I'm Jonah."

"Pleased to meet you."

The guys all shook my aunts hand but Daniel looked like he was going to have a heart attack. His hands were shaking slightly and his eyes darted back and forth, not knowing where to look.

Daniel POV

I took Y/n's aunts hand and shook it, I smiled at her. Did she see my tooth gap? What did she think of me? Why am I stressing out? It's not like she's Y/n's mom. But she could tell her about me! STOP DANIEL! BAD GIRAFFE!

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. I looked over at Y/n only to see she was trying not to laugh at me. "What are you laughing at?" I ask her.

"Nothing," she said. "It's just you looked so nervous around my aunt."

"Hey," I say. "It's not my fault that I don't want to look like a high school dropout that doesn't know what half of the english vocabulary is."

"Hold up," says Y/n. "If being a high school dropout means looking like Zach then sign me up."

"You are a million times more beautiful than Zach," I say. "Its better to be pretty and smart than just being good looking."

Y/n POV

"You're a million times more beautiful than Zach," said Daniel and he looked at me with a face that proved he was being sincere. "It's better to be pretty and smart than just being good looking."

Did I hear him right? Did he just call me beautiful? Me ears could use a good cleaning.

"I'm still not denying that Zach has an amazing face," I shrugged.

"Thank you Y/n!" yelled Zach.

"If you guys would like, you could come have some food with us," said my aunt. "It isn't a problem.

"Yeah," said Corbyn. "We could get our bags taken to our house."

We gave the boy's luggage to a kind man to take it to their house. Once that was done, we got into my aunts van. Jonah sat in the passengers seat next to my aunt, who would be driving. Me, Zach and Jack in the middle seats and Daniel sat with Corbyn in the pull out seats.

"So what are you guys planning on doing now that you're back in LA?" I ask them.

"We're planning on working on songs," said Zach.

I put my hand up to my chest and gasped dramatically, "You don't say!"

"Haha very funny," said Jack. "We're planning on working on songs, I'm not going to tell you anything about it."

"You say it as if what happens next in your music career is Avengers: Endgame," I say. "And I didn't watch it yet so no spoilers."

"Music career?" asks my aunt. "You guys write songs?" Jonah, Zach and Jack all nodded. Daniel and Corbyn probably did the same, but I couldn't see what they were doing.

"I went to one of their concerts with a friend that's a fan of theirs," I say.

"Is that how you met each other?"

"No," said Daniel. "We met at the mall and helped Y/n find her friend. After that we hung out a bit."

"Well," said Corbyn. "Daniel and Y/n hung out. The rest of us were left in the hotel."

"You liar," I say. "You guys hijacked our night out!"

"You mean your date," says Jack.

"Well," said my aunt a little awkwardly. "We're here."

"Finally!" screams Zach. "This was getting too awkward!"

A/n (aunts name) parked the car in the Kentucky Fried Chicken parking lot and we all scrambled out of the car. I had to give Corbyn and Daniel a little help to push the seats forward to let them out.

We got our orders and sat down at a booth. My aunt sat at a different table to give is more privacy. I sat between Jonah and Corbyn. Daniel sat diagonal from me with Zach and Jack next to him. They were already arguing and talking and it was obvious why the whole fandom shipped them. UGH JACHARY! SORRY, I'M FANGIRLING!

Me and Jonah had our own seperate conversation. A mature one without the others saying incredibly stupid stuff in it. Jonah was definitely the most responsible member of the band. Basically the opposite of Zach.

"You looked pretty scared back on the plane," said Jonah, changing the topic so that we would no longer would be talking about Hogwarts houses. "Were you okay?"

"Yeah," I lied. "It's just been a while since I had flown." The same lie I had told Daniel.

"You went to Greece last summer Y/n."

"How-?"

"I may have stalked your account," he said and I rolled my eyes.

There was no escaping this. Might as well just let it out now. "So I have this thing," I said. "Well, um... uh." I rubbed my face with my hands. "All the guys that I've had any kind of relationship with have all had blue eyes. I can't explain it, it's like a magnet." Jonah raised an eyebrow, questioning why that made me scared of riding on an airplane. "All of them have either died or disappeared. It just happens."

"And you were scared that something was going to happen to Daniel on the plane," said Jonah as he slowly nodded.

"It's like I have a curse," I say. "I don't know what Greek god I pissed off to be given this kind of love. It's probably Aphrodite but you never know."

"Wait Y/n," said Jonah, stopping my rambling. "Are scared of loving people."

I bowed my head down. He had probably noticed the fear and sadness in my voice as I had been speaking. "To be honest," I said. "I'm terrified of love."

#daniel seavey #corbyn besson #jonah marais #jack avery #why don't we #zach herron #wdw imagines #wdw oneshots #daniel x reader #x reader #Blue Eyes| Philophobia

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madamehearthwitch · 7 years ago

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Madame HW Talks Camping...

Yeah, so I started writing a reblog reply to an ask @heatherwitch got about camping, and it got completely out of hand. So rather than hijack the post, I decided to just write my own, lol. (Hope that’s okay, Mouse!)

I was a Scout Leader for a while, and one of the big things we’d teach the kiddos about camping was the importance of a good night’s sleep! It’s not impossible to get a great sleep while tent camping, you just have to prepare for it. Most ruined trips I know of were the fault of not properly preparing for sleep. Personally, I can’t have a good trip if I’m cold, wet, and miserable when I’m trying to sleep.

Bed Roll

Even though I’ve not been a leader for a loong time... I still use my bedroll for camping!

Waterproof tarp or plastic sheet

reflective sheet*

self inflating foam sleep pad**

sleeping bag***

* You can use a simple mylar emergency blanket. I find them really crinkly (loud) and they can be prone to tearing. Something like what I’ve linked is a little sturdier and less annoying.

** You can get... a little crazy with the sleep pads. There are some suuuper expensive ones out there. If you camp a lot, and you’re old like me, it’s worth investing in one. But if you’re just going once, you could use a fleece blanket or two and a yoga mat. The one I linked is similar style to what I use. The cost goes up with thickness, etc.

*** Personally, I like a good sleeping bag. I aim for one that’s good for at least freezing, but -40 is even better. If you’re camping anywhere near mountains, it can get REALLY REALLY COLD at night. When you get up in the morning, just fold the sleeping bag over itself once or twice. This keeps it from getting cold in the evening when the temp drops and you haven’t gone to bed yet.

Lay it out in that order (with a pillow), then roll it up and secure with rope.

(source)

If you’re cold when you’re sleeping, sleep with a hat (pref wool) on your head, and wool socks on your feet. Those are the places that heat escapes the body the most.

(this got long, I love camping and apparently I’m feeling rambly this morning)

Wool is my best friend when I camp. Wool socks keep my feet so nice and warm at night when it gets cool. If there’s a chance of rain... don’t bring jeans. The fibers in jeans collect and trap water... it’s not fun at all. Khaki pants and fleece are what I love.

Bug Spray

Idk where you’re camping, but bug spray, lol. Keep in mind that bears are attracted to one of the compounds in citronella, so I personally avoid it when I’m camping. You’d be surprised where bears will show up, many of them give no fux about being around people.

When I can, I store my food locked in my car at night, in sealed containers. I’ve stayed at some great state parks that have bear proof lockers in the campgrounds. DO NOT leave garbage lying around your campsite at night. Put it in the approved garbage bins. Wash all dishes.

Dunk Bag and Mesh Kit

(source)

I like the dishes pictured above. Metal lasts a long time, is durable, and won’t melt with hot food. Not porous, so easy to clean. North West Rafting Association (source of picture below) has a great post on camping manners that includes what is, imho, THE ONLY way to wash dishes while camping.

Once dipped into the bleach rinse, I put all dishes into the mesh bags and hang to dry.

Food

Like Mouse said in their response... bring more than you think you’ll need, lol. I could do a whole series on camping recipes. I like to think of camping as a chance to go well outside the regular kitchen cooking, and I have a lot of fun with outdoor cooking. Mostly lighting things on fire and cooking in the coals of the campfire. There’s tons of blogs available on it.

Misc

Less practical, and more fun... I really like bringing a watercolor set with me when I camp.

You can get it for pretty cheap on Amazon. It’s small and easy to carry around with you. I usually use a small watercolor or mixed media field journal (spiral bound for ease of use). Then I have fun doing little paintings of the things I find :D It’s really easy to pack along on a hike.

MrHW and I also usually bring along some coloring books and a big set of pencil crayons.

I like a good old fashion gas lantern when I’m camping for night time. I also really like candles but sometimes (more often these days) they aren’t allowed. It can get dark AF at night. Good lighting is the key to staying up and enjoying the twilight hours!

Card games! (or board games)

Depending on your packing space, card games can offer a lot of fun without taking up too much room. But if you HAVE the room, bringing board games with you is always fun!

Board Game Geek has a great thread on small, packable card games. For me though, Munchkin and CAH are the top of the list (I think the BGG predates their popularity? I’m bad with time, idk)

If you have any other suggestions for camping I’d love to hear them!

#camping #outdoors #summer is coming

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parkjmini · 7 years ago

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Precarious // 8

mafia!bts: park jimin precarious: adj. dangerously insecure or unstable Psychotic, that’s how he viewed himself. He was a precise hitman who never made a mistake, until now. Set on an all kill mission, he brings back more than just blood stains. word count: 2710 warnings: explicit language, violence, drugs

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] 8

im back from hiatus (-: AND i thought id surprise yall with a chapter of Precarious finally after all these long, waited months anD I made this one a little longer as a treat bc i never update this story )-:

“Where the fuck have you been all day?” Jungkook pushed Jimin’s chest as he walked through the door. He didn’t respond. You, shyly, tried to hurry pass into Jimin’s room.

“(Y/N), stay.” Jin offered and patted the seat next to him on the couch. Everyone watched as you scurried quickly next to Jin, your head ducking down. It always scared you when all seven of them were gathered together, especially with Namjoon in the room. He terrified you the most.

Peering up, you saw Jimin taking small peaks in your direction. He was leaning coolly against one of the columns. Namjoon stood more in the middle, orchestrating everything. “We have a big shipment tonight. A big expensive shipment.” There was an evil shine over his eyes as he spoke.

“Why can’t Hoseok and Yoongi handle it themselves?” V asked, addressing J-Hope and Suga as their real names. They often tried to call each other by their aliases because you were around, but there was always someone who falters through. V --- Taehyung --- was the one to always forget. He’s messed up enough for you to catch all of their real names.

Steam came out of Namjoon’s ears and his lips remained in a thin line. He exhaled sharply, obviously annoyed with Taehyung’s statement. “Did you not just hear me say it was a big and expensive shipment? Do you think I am an idiot to allow only two of my men to transport when goons are everywhere trying to get their hands on the same stuff? When did we decide that it was okay to question me?”

“Do you want to die, V?” Jin slapped the back of Taehyung’s head. The young boy groaned in pain and apologized. Yoongi merely scoffed and rolled his eyes.

It seemed like Jin was second in command. He was very close with Namjoon and cared for him deeply. You figured out that he was the oldest among all the men. Jin had a bad case of rambling and making small talk.

“Pick up is at 2 AM at the loading docks. There will be two trucks filled with drugs, one arriving at 1:30 AM and the other arriving five minutes after. That’s where we come in. Get on those trucks and complete the exchange.” Namjoon paced and Hoseok leaned back casually in the couch.

“We’re hijacking them?” Jungkook asked.

“Why the big surprise, it’s not the first time you’ve done it.” Namjoon tossed two cream colored folders on the coffee table. Yoongi was quick to shuffle through the papers.

What he said next ran a shiver down your spine, “we’re messing with the cartel? This is going to be fun.”

“No live witnesses. Take care of it.” Namjoon eyed Jungkook and Jimin. They both nodded, but Jimin seemed out of it.

Namjoon scanned the room and he walked towards you. “Stay here and watch the house.”

“I love house watching---” the minute that left your mouth, you regretted it. You decided it wasn’t the brightest idea to sass the man everyone was afraid of. “I’ll stay.” You gulped.

He grinned and turned back to everyone else. “Times ticking.” He headed for the door and everyone started to spring up to follow.

However, Jimin began strutting towards you. Jungkook, puzzled, stopped him and shook his head. He shoved him off and Jungkook stared at his partner make his way to you.

You met him halfway, near the stairs up to the open front door. He automatically wrapped his arms around your waist. He head rested in the crook of your neck. You closed your eyes to soak in his embrace. “Be careful.” You whispered into his ear. He nodded into your shoulder.

Opening your eyes, you saw Jungkook glaring at the two of you. “Lover boy, we need to go. Now.”

Jimin kissed your cheek before letting you go and running out the door. The mansion was empty and you stood in their grand living room alone.

You missed Jimin already.

Jimin threw his hoodie in the corner of the van. He tied his bandanna around his face. His black t-shirt clung loosely to his skin. He stared out the window, thinking about the kiss you two shared earlier that night. He has never felt so warm inside. He loved how soft your lips were and how perfect they seemed to fit.

He didn’t want to leave you alone at the house, partly because he was uneasy about you sneaking out and leaving him forever. He didn’t know how you felt about him, but he had made his actions clear. He really liked you.

“So you fucking her now?” Jungkook whispered. Jimin snapped his head to see Jungkook’s dark brown eyes staring. He couldn’t see the rest of his expression because of his bandanna.

Jimin was thankful that no one else heard the kid speak. He shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it? You’re in love with her and she’s in love with you?” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“No. She makes me feel different, safe almost.”

Jungkook threw off his hoodie as they approached the dock. “That’s ironic. The only danger you encounter is yourself, Jimin.”

The vehicle came to a stop. Clicks of a loaded gun filled the dark car. Namjoon counted down with his fingers. 1... 2... 3...

Then the doors slid open and everyone ran out. Jimin hurried behind the large loading tanks, closest to the entrance. The time ticked to 1:30 AM and right on cue, a big truck crept up slowly. There were two people visible to Jimin. There was the driver and someone in the passenger seat. Jimin turned around and spotted Jungkook a few feet away. He nodded and signaled for Jimin to go.

The passenger was the person closest to Jimin. Pointing the gun, he aimed directly for his chest as he stepped down from the tall vehicle. In seconds, he fell to the ground. Jimin sprinted to the other side and opened the door to the driver’s seat. Everything happened so quickly. The driver fell from the seat in a blink and soaked in his own pool of blood.

Namjoon came from Jimin’s left and pulled himself up into the trunk. He jogged to the back of the truck and Hoseok was already latched on. He was undoing the lock with incredible skill. Taehyung rolled a smoke bomb and voice erupted from inside the trunk.

Hoseok slid the entire back up and exposed the stacks of drugs along with the several cartel members. They were coughing at the sudden suffocation of air. Jimin took his chance and shot repeatedly, seeing red.

People began running from behind the tanks and attacked Hoseok and Taehyung. Jimin wasn’t registering the surprise ambush. He shot at their heads. Hoseok, taking the opportunity after almost being strangled to death, shot Taehyung’s attacker in the face.

It was suddenly 3 against 5 as more slowly appeared. Namjoon didn’t hesitate to step on the gas. Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok jumped onto the truck before it was too late. They were all shooting at the others who tried to stop them.

“Did you know?” Taehyung asked, panting.

“No clue. I guess they were expecting us.” Hoseok shrugged nonchalantly. Jimin watched as the second truck pulled up and Jungkook, Jin, and Yoongi repeated the same offence. They were becoming smaller and smaller as they drove away.

Suddenly, they were swerving and a sharp turn caused them to topple over onto the dead bodies. “What the hell, Namjoon..”

You wandered the vacant house, swinging yourself around the large columns in the living room. Your mind replayed your sweet moment with Jimin, forgetting that a feeling like this had existed. There was a time before this mess when you were happy. You didn’t think you’d feel it being with him, of all people.

It was almost foreign. This feeling of joy and wanting to be with someone. Your stay here had been long and difficult. It was not the life you had ever wanted, but it had to be something you had to deal with. And Jimin was there to guide you through it, along with his own repressed insecurities in his own mind.

However, your emotions were skewed, almost lost. It died along with your family. It felt wrong to be revived, mainly because your family couldn’t have the same chance. You hoped that you’d be okay one day and that Jimin was going to be there to heal with you.

Your mindless swinging stopped when you heard a car pull up and there was hushed chatter outside the door. Hiding, you crouched behind the large couch and held your breath.

There was loud, whispered yelling. Multiple voices echoed and you grew extremely terrified, your palms becoming slick with sweat. Your heart thumped loud enough for you to hear it in your ears. It couldn’t have been them; it was too early.

You waited and the voices stopped once they reached the door. The latches came undone, swiftly, and the figures staggered in. The lights flicked on and it revealed to be the gang.

Namjoon spotted you right when he entered and chuckled a little. “Next time, find a better hiding spot.” Everyone flooded in and you got up to see where Jimin was, but he never entered in.

“Where’s Jimin?” You asked frantically, looking past the weary expressions and shifty eyes.

“I told you she’d ask.” Jungkook groaned. “She’ll never notice he’s missing, yeah right. They’re practically attached to one another.” He rolled his eyes, for the hundredth time that night.

“Jin, handle it.” Namjoon ordered and Jin escorted you over to an empty room.

Jin’s concern expression didn’t sit well with you and you shook your head, assuming the worse. “Is he dead?” You asked, teary eyed.

He tilted his head and laugh a little. “No, Jimin? Dead? No way. There were detectives at the location and Jimin was bait.”

“He’s in custody?! And you all let him get caught? What is going to happen to him? Is he going to jail? ---”

“---Why do you care so much about what happens to him?” Jin cut your frantic questions and you blinked blankly at him, unsure as to how to explain yourself.

“Uh-- I--- well, I don’t know. Maybe because I worry for him.” You refused to make any further eye contact, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Why do you worry about a horrendous man who murdered your family and kidnapped you? Why care for a killer?” Jin pressed on and you leaned against the wall, searching for any way to counter his claims.

“Why did he let a rich, self entitled brat live when she was destined to be killed… by him? I guess we both have questions we can’t seem to find answers to.” You sighed and the young man before you smiled devilishly. “Now, moving on to questions that can be answered: what is going to happen to him and why was it him?”

“It was Namjoon’s orders and Jimin listens to him like a lost puppy, trying to seek comfort in a dark world. Jimin will be set on bail, which we’ll pay to get him out. He’s only going to spend a night in a cell at the station and then he’ll be back in your arms, babe.”

“All the while detectives grill him the entire night and hope that he breaks. That’s emotionally damaging.” The image of a stone-faced Jimin sitting alone in an interrogation room popped in your head, chills running down your spine.

“This entire lifestyle is emotionally damaging, you would know, wouldn’t you?” Jin taunted and patted your shoulder.

“I don’t think people want to join the mafia. Majority are forced, sometimes it’s their only option.” You groaned and stomped your way to Jimin’s room. Jumping onto his big, empty bed, you filled it up with your warmth. Your sad heart fell to the ground after being lifted, hoping that Jimin was okay.

“Why were you there? Was Kim Namjoon there with you as well?” The officer nailed Jimin repeatedly for the past two hours, however, he did not budge. He stared straight ahead like he was trained to do and he ignored every comment made towards him.

“He’s not talking and the bail has been posted.” His partner squeezed the bridge of his nose in distress and frustration.

“Fuck! We had them this time. What were you doing at the docks!?” The older officer screamed at Jimin’s face and Jimin only responded back with a blink.

“Maybe we need leverage.”

“Check the files, see what you can dig up.” He commanded and hurried to shuffle through the piles of manila colored folders.

The younger deputy cleared his throat and pointed at a paper out of Jimin’s view. “There was a murder of a family, did you have anything to do with that?”

“It was a family of four, but the daughter is missing. You didn’t do your job correctly, did you? She’s out there somewhere and when we find her, you and your entire mafia is going down.”

Jimin’s eyes shifted nervously and he lost his cold hard expression.

“Where is the girl, Park Jimin? You seem to be uneasy at the mention of her.” They continued to crack him further and Jimin gulped. He hated how they mentioned you and the sheer percent of fear set in his system. Jimin wanted to protect you, away from all your troubles. However, he was unaware of how to do so and acted too hastily.

You were his special secret, the only thing that brought him serenity and comfort. He couldn’t let anyone use you; he was not letting anyone have the chance to rob you away. He was genuinely afraid of losing his only happiness.

“I hope you never find her.” Jimin finally spoke and the two men stared at him in disbelief.

“So he speaks?” The older man groaned sarcastically.

“Boss! Bail has been paid, he’s out.” Someone opened the door and yelled inside. Jimin held out his cuffed hands to be released and the frustration in their faces brought him delight. Nonetheless, he remained wary at the mention of you.

He was unsure how much longer he could control himself. There was too big of an affect on him and he needed to shut them down; you interfered with his work. But he didn’t want to repress his feelings anymore. He had forgotten how nice it felt to feel loved or love someone else. Confused and conflicted, he walked out of the station to be greeted with Jin leaning against the car.

“You look horrible. Rough night?” Jin jumped at the sight of Jimin. He shook his head and slumped his heavy body into the vehicle and Jin joined him.

“I have a surprise for you that will make you feel better.” Jin said and Jimin peered over, curiously wondering what could possibly make his miserable night better.

You popped up around Jimin, who sat in the passenger seat, and kissed his cheek. “Did they grill you that bad?” Your voice was sweet melody to his ears.

His heart almost leaped out of his chest at your touch and remained quick at your affection. “Surprise! I couldn’t leave her at home because she was being so persistent.” Jin groaned and started up the car.

Then Jimin remembered what the police had said, “we need to go. It’s a risk that she’s out here with roaming police all around.” He tried not to get mad, he held it in. His fists were clenched tightly at his lap and Jin was pulling out of the parking lot.

“We’re going to be fine. I’m not going anywhere without you, Jimin.” He unclenched his fists, his heart settling calmly in his chest. Your reassurance brought him comfort and made his anger disappear.

“I missed you.” Jimin breathed into the silence and your rosy cheeks accompanied you for the ride back to the mansion. “You should be asleep at this hour.”

“I couldn’t sleep in an empty bed. It’s better with you in it anyways.” You smiled, in return, causing a light pink to dance across Jimin’s cheeks under the morning dew.

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