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dameronology · 4 years ago

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love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno. {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing.

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it.

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors.

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day.

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you.

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing.

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway.

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error.

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done.

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum.

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them.

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents.

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead.

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled.

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous).

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek.

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up.

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned.

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied.

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured.

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that.

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it.

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you.

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog.

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved.

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal.

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing.

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled.

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years ago

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Nighmares/Hallucinations

Word count: 1353

Notes: Hello! I don't have much to say except that I hope the anon likes it bc I think I might have taken the request a little too freely, and I'm sorry. I just couldn't write anything other than this, for some reason I just scrapped everything bc it sounded horrible. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

(This is a fill for @3ambird‘s batfam bingo!)

Duke found himself staring at the ceiling again. His heart was no longer racing, but he wouldn’t exactly say that he was calm either. This is the moment after the end of a race you lost, when all of the adrenaline is starting to wear off and the hopelessness sets in. That’s it. You’re out of the competition, buddy.

Except that this isn’t a race, and Duke hasn’t just lost his spot for the finals. He had simply lost sleep.

He gets up, silently opening the door so as not to wake anyone up. As he walks through the hallway, he raises an eyebrow when he finds a sleepy (and now paralized) Damian with a hand on Dick’s doorknob.

“Say a word, and I’ll cut off your tongue, Thomas.” He whispers threateningly.

Duke puts his hands up and pretends he’s zipping his mouth up. Damian nods and slides into the room.

Duke keeps walking heading out for the balcony in the living room of the second floor. It was always so bright, illuminated by the stars and the moon, and he didn’t even need to turn on any lights in clearer nights such as this one. It really was a pity that this sky was only visible in the outskirts of Gotham. The people here suffer so much, it would be only fair the sky would be able to bring them some comfort before bed, but just as everything else, it seemed to be a privilege for the richest.

“Hey,” Jason greets Duke from the edge of the balcony, startling the boy a little “What are you doing up, punk?” He smirks.

“Could ask you the same question.” Duke shoots back, leaning forward against the handrails.

“Yeah, but I asked you first.” Jason says, laughing. The smell of his minty gum hits Duke’s face hard, almost making him sick.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs.

“That’s a bit clear.” Jason laughs again, and more of the gum’s minty scent flows through the air. Duke takes a step back.

“God Jason, what’s with the dreadful gum?”

“Don’t like it?” He smiles, blowing in the teen’s direction. He laughs as Duke fans his breath away.

“No. It’s making me sick.” He frowns.

“Well, sorry, but I really can’t help it.” He raises his shoulders “I’m trying to quit smoking again. This is better than cigar smoke, I’m sure.”

“Actually, yes.” Duke raises his eyebrows “And I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, well, I died once and it was dreadful enough.” Jason shrugs “If I’m gonna die again, I just hope it’s not from lung cancer or a heart attack. Besides, I don’t wanna risk the one good part of me if y’know what I’m saying.” He exaggeratedly winks and points down at his crotch.

Duke laughs, rubbing his face at the nonsense.

“But you didn’t answer my question, not really.” Jason tries again “What’s keeping you up?”

“What do you care?” Duke smiles, but he’s a bit confused. Jason frowns.

“You’re my brother.” He says “What do you mean ‘What do I care’, is Dick the only one allowed to be caring in this house now?”

“I guess not.” Duke raises an eyebrow “I just never took you for the type to want to chit chat at four in the morning.” Jason stares at him blankly, annoyed “Alright, alright!” He puts his hands up “I’ve been having some pretty bad nightmares since the last time with Scarecrow, that’s all.”

“Ah, I get it.” Jason nods, supporting his weight on the handrails as he looks up to the starry sky “I’m always having my fair share of nightmares too.” He pauses to chew at his gum for a while, considering his next words “I guess this is where I should say it gets better, right?”

Duke chuckles.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Well, I can’t.” Jason hunches over, eyes dropping to the pale green grass lit by the moonlight “I don’t think I need to lie about this to you, kid.”

“You’re not that much older than me.” Duke complains “But yeah, I don’t think you do.”

“It’s enough of a difference for me.” Jason smirks at the boy “And in all honesty, I’ve never really been as good as Dick with the comforting talks.” He directs his gaze to the horizon, and God knows where his eyes are focusing right now “The thing is, when we live the way we do, we all get a little fucked up, for good. If nightmares are what we have to deal with, then, hell, I think we have it easy.” Jason spits his gum out, somehow hitting the trash can under them perfectly. He sighs again “Tim has panic attacks sometimes. Cass never learned how to read and still has problems communicating. Dick seems positive and productive to an outsider, but he struggles with anxiety and God knows how many other undiagnosed mental illnesses. Damian clearly has PTSD, even if he refuses to talk about it.” Jason shrugged.

“Well, I can’t assume that him dying could’ve been any easier.” Duke says. Jason huffs out a sad laugh.

“No. I mean, yeah, but also, no.” Duke frowns at the comment “He grew up in the League of Assassins. You weren’t here before, but you had to be blind not to see it.”

“Fair enough.” Duke says “But man, please don’t act as if you’re not just as fucked up, if not more.”

“I guess so.” He shrugs again “I just think I know how to hide it a bit better.” He pulls out the gum box, analyzing it “Or at least I used to.” Jason pulls out another gum and pops it in his mouth.

“You never really did.” Duek replies softly “You just went away so no one would see it.”

Jason bites the insides of his mouth for a moment.

“It’s not like anyone would want to see it, or even be able to help me.” Duke wants to say something, wants to yell at Jason and say that they love him very much, but he knows he’s right, to some extent. Everyone was a bit too fucked up to be able to pick him up properly “So you know... Roy and Kory... helped. As much as they could. Bizarro and Artemis too.” He chews a bit, eyes fixated on the trash can “I didn’t... completely give up on myself. I just... y’know, you can’t find everything at home.” He shakes his head for a moment “God, I’m supposed to be helping you... forget it, I’m not even making any sense.”

“No, you’re making perfect sense.” Duke says “And I’m not a child. You’re awake too, and I bet it must have something to do with your own nightmares.” He smiles softly “We can help each other.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jason looks at him again, smiling.

There’s a weird silence for a moment. Neither of them want to talk about it, and both of them know it.

“I’m... I’m really glad you’re here.” Jason starts, eyes fixated on the horizon again “I know I don’t always show it but I really am happy to call you my brother. It’s... a refreshing change of pace from all of those idiots.” He laughs, mostly to try and dissipate the feeling that he gets whenever he’s baring his heart. Duke laughs with him.

“Thank you.” He says “I’m happy to call you brother too.”

“Okay, come here.” Jason smiles, pulling Duke into what starts out as an awkward and overtly heterossexual hug.

But then both of them realize that they are alone. There’s no one there to judge. And Duke leans into his brother, pressing his chin on Jason’s shoulder as the older man allows himself to pull him closer, resting his cheek on the top of Duke’s head.

“I love you, man.” Jason says “And life is too short for me not to say it.”

“I love you too.” Duke replies “And yes, but please stretch it out for as long as you can. It’d be painful to live on a planet that doesn’t have Jason Todd and his trademark awful minty breath on my face.”

Hey! If you liked this, consider rebloging, pretty please? It helps spreading my work so more people can read it, as oposed to the notes. Regardless, thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!

#Duke Thomas #Jason Todd #batfamily #Signal #Red Hood #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Green Eggs and Ham: “Train” Review or A Little Better Now (Patreon Review for Emma Fici)

Hello you happy people and all aboard! We’re back on the Green Eggs and Ham Train for a Train themed episode. Train. As you can tell I like trains... admitely I don’t see enough episodes et on them and I don’t buy books or obess on them but I like the idea of a train, the comfort, the use of a mode of travel that was once common but is now simply used on occasion with the dawn of air travel, and it confining our heroes to a smaller space with limited room to move. it’s good stuff. I even tolerae the band train... I mean yes their music is okay at best, but the lyrics.. are wonderfully delightfully insane. Who else would use a garbage bag as a genuine romantic metaphor?

When last we left off things ere a bit ehhhhhhhhhhh: Sam went from delightfully quirky with some issues ot adress to annoying, and Michelle went from kin dof a bitch ot ENTIRELY THAT BITCH. Outside of Guy’s mental breakdown/heatstroke episode involving hallucinations of green eggs and ham, yes that did in fact happen, it wasn’t much to write home about and I worried the series simply had a good PILOT but the series itself wasn’t going to be fun sit through.

If I was right or I was rilla.. will have to wait till after the cut. But first as always i’d like to thank the person who payed for this episode Emma Fici. Emma is one of my closest friends and one of two patreon patreons. If you’d like a reivew of your choice eveyr month guarnateed, then please hop over to patreon.com/popculturebuffet and back me at the 5 dollar level. You also get access to my exclusive discord where I ocasoinally post about work in progress stuff and tlak to my falns, to pick a short any time I do one and EXCLUSIVE review, as well as helping me hit my stretch goals. So line up, sign up then join me under the cut.

So we pick up where we left off with Guy hurtling into a lake. Eh I dunno i’ve heard being naked ina lake is pretty neat.

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All you’d have to do is take off the hat and your there. But Sam saves him wiht the weird train of hats he put at the end of the car for some reason, and our heroes are saved.. but down a vehicle. Oh and Sam’s vehiclular neglgence costs a bunch of fish their home.

And our heroes are without a car and Guys at the end of his rope with Sam.. I mean granted he’s been there since he met the guy but it’s down to like the tiniest thred, not helped by Sam casually stealing his wallet to pay for train tickets depsite Guy , UNDERSTANDABLY, not wanting to hang out with the guy who has stolen with him, gotten him implicate din animal trafficing and dosen’t really respect personal space. Also it’s taken me embarassingly long to remember Micheal Douglas played my boy Hank Pym in the Ant Man and the Wasp films. Seroiusly I don’t know HOW I forgot that, him being aged up and thus unable to do ANY of the things he is constnatly denied credit for in canon (Founding the avengers, being the first ant man.. and the first goliath and the first yellow jacket and the first giant man.. and the only doctor pym...).. but instead the film kept his troubled nature and ego, but removed the domestic abuse (which is something I will not go into but needless to say the comics version went above and beyond to try and make up for that and redeem himself soley because it was the right hting to do) and by making im older still gav ehim a roll as Scott’s mentor. What i’m getting at is I freaking love Hank Pym and I could’ve been making hank pym jokes for several episdoes now. That’s a mistake I itned to recitfy.. right away as Guy looses his suitcase as a result of it and whie he lcaims not to be bothered his voice says otherwise. Eh i’m sure the world can wait for ultron Guy.

So anyway, Guy reluctantly agrees to the train travel idea and being parked across from Sam on the grounds he has no real other options. Meanwhile the BAD GUYZ.. and i’ve also decided to drop spoilers as the series is two years old, most people reading this have probably seen the series, and it makes analysis rough when I have to dance around spoilers. So yeah the BAD GUYZ aren’t villians.. kind of a dickhead on the blue guys part, but not EVIL. They figure out their going by train it’s a whole thing.

ON the train we run into michelle again...

Yeahhh for the first half she’s as inusfferable as she was the last two episodes and it lead me to believie the rest of the series was going to be constant suffering as she’d be in every episode, likely because they DID get Diane Keaton for this and you don’t waste Diane Keaton. You just don’t. But while they got their money’s worth in having her on screne wise they just..w asted her for the first 2 and a half episodes: Michelle is a judgemental, unpleasnt suffocating bitch and it’s going to take a lot , even if this episode helped, to make me truly like her as a person.

Case in point her first two scenes this episode are just.. dragging her daughter past a play place uncarring about her feelings because while I DO get she cares about her child’s saftey and is terrified afte rloosing her husband.. it dosen’t EXCUSE her actions. It dosen’t forgive her locking her daughter up constanlty, not talking to her like a human being and oh yeah PUTTING A FUCKING LOCK ON HER SHE CAN CONTROL. I mean my god I don’t think they INTENDED for her to come off as abusive as she does, and i’ve seen far worse inteitonally and untietionally, but it’s still not remotely plesant. There is a larger issue baked into that the episode brings about, but we’ll get to that.

And naturally at breakfast.. she procedes to top herself. ONCE AGAIN she treats guy like trash as guy UNDERSTANDABLY didn’t want to talk to her after her previous layers of bullshit which, just as a refresher, involved insulting his invention constnatly (even if it turned out ot be dangerous she did not know that till the last second) then refusing to help a man BAKING in the desert and mocking him to his face.

So yeah unsuprisingly instead of you know, APOLOGIZING for that episode or anything else she mocks him again and calls him sad. I just.. I get they were trying to have her come off as a jerk and then slowly develop.. but you can’t overdue the jerk part. It has to be juts the right amount and if it is this much there has to be a commpuance. There is none as far as I can tell because god is a spiteful two faced prick.

So naturally Sam forces the two parties together, and orders green eggs and ham for everyone, except guy who refuses. We do get a really great bit though as EB turns down the idea and we get a tremendous rant from Micheal Douglas as he talks about how a girl in his clash, veyr likely just him, got a rash from tring new things and you shouldn’t and to watch out for the scarlet beetle he’ll steel your ants and try to conquer your planet and is not a guy in a costume but in fact an actual beetle. EB naturally tries it.

We get a brief interlude with Snerz that’s funny enough: he outright calls his visotrs flunkies, they enter to the song money, and his minon throws dollar bills at their feet. I imagine this is what visitng Mar a Largo is like. They turn up his noses until he mentions getting a chickarffe for his animal crutelty wall. And i’m torn about Snerz. On one hand he can be generally entertaining in his dickery.. but ont he other I do question why he’s in EVERY episode. We don’t NEED him in eveyr one and I feel he’s only in them because Eddie Izzard was expensive so they had to get him as a regular to justify the cost. We really DONT’ need this scene funny as it is and it adds nothing so far. Maybe i’m wrong and these guys end up being important. I don’t know.

So yeah so far this episode was miserable getting through and I expected it to be another long sit... I was wrong. The second half.. is really damn good and reminded me why I liked this series so much. No really. We get two stories,both really good following one half of each pair teaming up. As for why their split Guy is annoyed with Sam, as well as dosen’t want him letting the chickaraffe out because you know lots of people dosen’t want ot go to jail and leaves to find a quiet place to work on watching paint dry while Michelle tucks a sleeping EB in, her first really truly humanizing moment, which should NOT have taken three episodes but hey, i’ll take it, and goes to find the same.

So starting with Sam and EB, naturally Sam takes all of a minute to let his buddy out and it gets loose on top of the train. EB hears the familiar sound and gives chase and the two meet properly. After Sam covers for his buddy and realizes the creature is asleep in his car safe now, he properly talks to EB and we get a truly magical sequnece: The two talk with Sam whoelheartdly supporting her free spirit and finally giving the girl what she badly needed: someone who treated her not as something to be tied down but you know.. a child who just wants some expression and as she literally lets her hair down, It’s truly adorable and it just has a magical quanitity as they enjoy the beautiful view from the train top.

Granted this takes at urn later when EB brings up her mom, and Sam.. supports her mom, pointing out she’s just looking out for her.. which she is but in a deeply unehalthy way and I don’t like the show just.. brushing over Michelle’s terrible actions because “she’s her mom”. But it’s also hard to tell if they are: Sam’s mom left him as we’ll find out, so he likely colors his memories of her rosey and simply envys EB still HAVING hers. It’s not BAD stuff but I don’t like a work saying “You should love your family just beacause your related”. Instead of because they lovea nd support you and if they dont’ love you or treat you remotely well or don’t give an ass about you fuck them. Thankfully I DO love my family and have no issues with them, my immediate family at least, but i’ve had friens with downright abusive or neglectful parents. It’s not that black and white. Ducktales also hammered in the family theme but was transparent in how it can me messy, harm each other and that it took true love and consideratoin for it to work at it’s core.

It’s still not a terrible scene and what comes next is neat as earlier it was shown the train has loops, because Seussworld, and now that’s a problem because their on top of it. Michelle’s jail braclet thing ends up coming in handy the first loop, as while she can’t unstick it means she and sam can suririvie it. They do get it loose, turns out the password was indeed password, because of course, and they end up narrowly suriving a roller coaster bit of track, with the help of MR. Jenkins who I can finally name because EB names her in the next scene. Understanding her need for a pet, Sam deputizes her, and gets her back in bed in time for the next plot.

Speaking of which winding back a bit as these two go back and forth, Guy goes through two rather hilarious cars: First a bath car that has a bubsby berkely style water number and then a model train car.. with the train on the track showing guy watching guy watchin gthe train etc.

It’s great. Guy ends up finding the quiet car.. and Michelle. And in her first scene of acting like a human being and not if julie powers was a soccer mom, Michelle, while standosfish as usual, not only unites with guy to shush a loud guy in the car, but is genuinely apricative when Guy helps her get her place back, she was doing some literal bean counting.

The two genuinely hit it off, first with some adorable silent bits and then by talking, with Michelle appreciating his now safer job and warming up to him. Keaton and Douglas have GENUINE chemestry and it annoys me itt took the series this long to use that instead of wasting Diane Keaton on being

It’s really great stuff and i’m actually rooting for the two.. once she gets her shit together obviously. Guy does make the mistake of lying abotu knowing about the chikcaraffe.

This ends up being bad as he finds out EB knows the next day and after she leaves the car RIGHTFULLY tears the fuck into same for getting him accused of crime, stealing from him and now puttin ghim in a precarious situation. While Guy DID lie, he idd so well meaningly and trying to impress someone whose ineherntly judgmeental. Douglas also does REALY well in the scene, calling sam out but it dosen’t feel cruel.. it’s justified. While guy is miserable and does need to work on himself.. Sam also needs to work on himself and is putting guy in serious danger just by forcing him into his animal smuggling scheme.

So Guy leaves.. and naturally given the unvierse hate shim runs into the BAD GUYZ, who aren’t much better. No really they refuse to belieive guy might be innocent, use excessive force on everyone. They have better GOALS than sam but I woudln’t really call them good people. Smash to black and we’re out.

Final Thoughts: This one was better. As I said the first half or rather third drags slightly but once we get to the two seperate plotlines it’s REALLY damn good stuff and reminded me what the series was capable of in character in creativity. Hopefully it keeps this up

Next Time on the Blog: We return to mewni for the penultimate chapter of season 3 as Moon and Eclipsa have some fundemtnal disgareemnts on how to handle Meteora that wind up costing both dearly.

See you at the next rainbow

#green eggs and ham #guy am I #sam I am #dr seuss #netflix #animation #patreon

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rxsie-the-demon · 4 years ago

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Brooklyn Baby | JJ Maybank

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: heyo! so i haven’t written fanfic in FOREVER, and i never have on tumblr. so please be patient with me (haha). this is gonna be a series, basically everything that i want (dreamed?) about that happens in season 2 of outerbanks. i hope you enjoy!

chapter summary: Nikki Reddy is new to Outer Banks High School, aka ‘Kook Academy.’ After befriending Topper, Kelce, and Scarlet and getting a crash course on OBX culture, she meets the school outcast, Kiara Carrera

warning: swearing, mentions of drowning, shooting, death, smoking, etc. nothing super bad, just usual stuff from s1

word count: 2075

CHAPTER 1: Shades of Cool

I honestly had no idea what was going through my brother’s head when he decided to say, “Fuck it, let’s move to the Outer Banks.” In the middle of the school year. In the winter!

Like, he could’ve at LEAST waited ‘til the summer or spring. But nope, we’re going to the Graveyard of the Atlantic in fucking January.

JANUARY.

I can’t even wear cute sandals or shorts.

I sighed deeply and turned into the parking lot of Outer Banks High School, or as some kid I heard called it, Kook Academy. I have no idea what that was supposed to mean because no one at the school seemed crazy. But then again, this was my third day here. For all I know, these kids are batshit crazy.

I parked her white Lamborghini Aventador that I had gotten for my sixteenth birthday (just Sweet Sixteen things) and grabbed my pink Kanken backpack and flung it over my shoulder, brushing her shoulder lengthed hair out of my way. Stupid hair always getting in the way of everything. While I walked into the building, I pulled her schedule out of the pocket of the bag, not remembering where my AP US History class was.

“Nikki! Hi!” I heard a girl’s voice call out. Turning around, I was met with the energetic, and for a lack of a better word, preppy girl who was assigned to show me around the school two days ago. Scarlet, I remembered. The girl whose name matched her hair. Next to her, the tall, HOT, tan blonde friend wearing khakis and a sweater, and the other boy, also tall, equally hot, dark-skinned friend. Topper and Kelce, was it? I couldn’t remember. Or was it Topher, like Christopher? I knew a guy who went by Topher instead of Chris. He was a weird guy.

“Hey! Scarlet, right? And...Topper and Kelce?” I gave them a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I suck with names.”

“No, it’s all good, broski,” Topper smiled. “And you got them right if that makes it better.”

I sighed with relief. “Oh, good.”

“I LOVE your dress,” Scarlet cooed. I did too. A yellow plaid cami dress over a thin, white turtleneck sweater, complete with white converse and a simple silver necklace with an ‘Om’ symbol.

“Aw, thank you! I love your outfit, too! I could never rock a green tube top and jeans, you’re BLESSED.”

“We should start walking to class, guys,” Kelce interjected, “Otherwise we’re going to be late, and Miss Newbie here doesn’t need that on her third day of school.” Topper rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Facts, love. Let’s get a move on,”

As we turned to walk to class, we passed by this girl whose rather dull aura caught my attention. I only saw part of her face when we walked by her, but she had sunken eyes as if she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in who knows how long. Her frizzy brown hair was spilling out of the hood of her black sweatshirt, and her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her black sweatpants.

Honestly? I thought she looked like shit. But not in an insulting way, in an “Are you ok? Do you need a hug?” kind of way.

“Hey, Top,” I turned next to him to asked, “Who’s the girl in all black that looks like she’s gonna pass out?”

The three OBX OGs spun their heads around to catch a glimpse of who I was talking about, before letting out a laugh at her question. “Ah, that’s Kiara. She’s a freak.” Top responded, chuckling.

I smiled sarcastically, a little mad that they outright insulted someone like that, but couldn’t show it because, well, I had no other friends. “True, but uh, how so?”

“She’s friends with Pogues, that’s how.”

“...Pogues?”

“The poor kids on the island, from The Cut. They’re all freaks and whores, they run around, stealing stuff, trying to shoot people.” Scarlet chirped up, emphasizing the different words. I nodded slowly.

“Yeah! This one Pogue, John B, like, he stole my girlfriend, uh sorry, EX-girlfriend from me, and his buddy JJ tried to shoot me in the head!” Topper exclaimed. Nikki’s eyes went wide.

“Wait...hold up, wait, he- WHAT? WHY did he try to shoot you?”

“I got into a fight with John B.”

“OK BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE’S GONNA- WHAT?”

“OK OK, I may have stuck his head underwater for a bit. I wasn’t gonna KILL him, I was just messing around, you know?” Topper looked at Kelce and Scarlet, who agreed with him, “Gotta show those dirty Pogues their place.”

I laughed dryly. What the flying fuck?

We stepped inside the classroom and took our seats, with me right behind Scarlet, and Topper and Kelce on either side of her.

Scarlett spun around. “Bro, our teacher isn’t even here!” She rolled her eyes and pulled out her Puff Bar from her bar and took a hit. She looked over at me and held it out for me. I shook my head no and turned to Topper. “Wait, Topper, that ex-girlfriend. Does she go here?”

Kelce and Scarlet immediately looked over at Topper, who looked like I just ran over his cat.

“Oh I’m sorry,” I immediately apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked about-”

“No, no, it’s ok,” Top said awkwardly and coughed. He turned to face me with a sad smile. “Uh, remember how I mentioned she’d left me for some Pogue?”

“John something, yea?”

“Well, he killed her and himself, about six months ago.”

My jaw dropped. “What the fuck?! How are you so casual about- Shit I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, he shot the last sheriff, Sheriff Peterkins, who by all accounts was actually a sweetheart. Then he proceeds to convince Sarah, or maybe he blackmailed her, I don’t know, into riding his boat into a tropical depression. We found the wreckage of the boat a couple weeks later, but...their bodies were never found...”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yeah... That girl, Kiara, she was best friends with both John B and Sarah. John B was, by all accounts, trash, but he was still her friend, I guess.”

I nodded slowly, trying to process all the information Topper had just dumped onto me.

Despite my extremely wealthy upbringing, I was raised to not be classist. Or at least, I hope that’s how I turned out; Scarlet, Topper, and Kelce also don’t seem like the most honest people. But these...Pogues that they were talking about...don’t seem like the sweet people.

But something about that girl’s eyes...they seemed so sad. You don’t feel for someone like that unless they’re a good person. Right?

*****************************************************

Our teacher was droning off about...gosh who even fucking knows, I stopped paying attention the second he walked in.

I was on autopilot mode, taking down notes but not, like, actually paying attention. Instead, my mind was on these really cute boots I saw while online window shopping yesterday. I had bookmarked the link. Maybe I’d buy those?

“Nikhita!” My teacher called out. Hearing my first name, I snapped back to reality.

“Hi!” I smiled back. The class chuckled a bit.

Mr. Obi, a Nigerian man with the biggest glasses I’ve ever seen, rolled his eyes. “Hello. Did you hear what I said?”

“Not at all, sir, not at all.”

Topper and Scarlet were losing their minds; the former had to put his head down on his desk because he was laughing so hard.

He sighed and shoved his glasses up his nose. They slid down again. “I asked you what was the impact of the election of 1860?”

Shit shit shit shit shit

“Uh...wait, we want to war? Yea, that, like, started the Civil War.” I said, thankful I knew the answer. Mr. Obi was unimpressed.

“Mhm. Anyway, so...” and he continued to drone off.

Topper turned to me, smiling, and we both laughed.

As the lesson went on, I kept glancing at the clock. Ok, 45 minutes left, which means we’re halfway through class.

Mr. Obi kept going on and on about the Civil War, until, 15 minutes later, a little alarm went off on his phone. He turned and pressed the ‘Stop’ button.

“Right on time. Ok, so, I shortened today’s lesson because I wanted to talk about your project. Nikhita, you got here two days ago, the first day back from winter break, so you have no idea what I’m talking about, and I’m sure most of your classmates have forgotten. So I’ll refresh your memories: the second semester of U.S History is not going to the usual. You’re going to have a semester-long project that can be about anything. Literally anything, so long as it has something to do with either world history or current events. Yes, I know this is a United States history class, but we expanded this project to make it more interesting for you guys..”

Mr. Obi stopped for a second, looking at all of us. I nodded, partially because I felt bad because everyone was just giving him black stares, and because I found this project interesting.

“Now, in the past years, I left my classes to choose their partners or groups. But before the break, I’m sure you all remember the catastrophe that was your mini-project, yes?”

The class mumbled something incoherent, except for the boys in the back of the class who started cheering, which made our teacher smile.

“Well, because of that, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you. Well, more like the Pyramid of Doom.”

The Pyramid of Doom. This mini pyramid statue that has a little opening on the top, with all of our names in them.

Mr. Obi opened the Pyramid and began. I stayed quiet, listening to see who I was going to be paired with. Hopefully one of my three friends, or maybe one of the boys in the back. They’re cute.

When my name was called, I leaned forward to pay attention. The intensity, the suspense. Who was gonna be my partner?

Mr. Obi stuck his hand in the Pyramid and pulled out the next piece of paper. “Kiara Carrera.”

My eyes went wide.

******************************************************

“So, you excited to be partners with the freak for class,” Topper asked, taking a bite of his pasta. I laughed sarcastically.

Outer Banks High School has an A/B schedule, which means third block is two hours instead of 90 minutes, and everyone has a different lunch at a different time, depending on their class. On A days, I have lunch with Topper and some other kids. On B days, I’m by myself.

Today’s an A day.

“It’ll be fine. She doesn’t seem that bad.” I turned to my left to face him, popping a grape into my mouth. Yum. I love grapes.

“Yea, just wait ‘til you get to know her,” this boy across from us said. “She’s so weird. She hates being a Kook. Like, she never goes golfing.”

“Or shopping!” One girl piped up. “She just likes to sit at the beach and surf, and smoke weed and stuff.”

“Well, that sounds fun,” I shrugged. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love going to country clubs, and shopping, and going out to get breakfast, but I love chillin’ at the beach. Maybe she just has different interests?”

“Ok, that’s fine,” Topper stated, “but she’s friends with Pogues. And not just any Pogues - John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward.”

“Ok, but like, one of them’s dead. Look, I’m all for holding people accountable for their actions, but...bro, stop tryna cancel a dead dude,” I laughed. Topper punched my arm, and I winced jokingly.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, and I blushed a bit. Topper’s cute, definitely, and I like the attention, but I knew what was going on. Sarah Cameron, the dead girl, was this school’s Queen, with Topper as King. He’s looking for a replacement, not an actual girlfriend.

But...I liked the attention. I put my head on his shoulder.

“Hey, so, my friend Rafe’s 20th birthday party is this Friday. He’s a family friend and I would love it if you’d join me at the party.”

I turned to look at him, debating whether or not I wanted to go to some rando’s birthday party. But Topper knows him, and it seems like everyone else does, too.

“Sure,” I smiled. “Why not.

__________________________________

chapter two

#outerbank #outer banks #jj #jj maybank #john b #john b x sarah #obx kiara #pope #jj fluff #jj smut #jj angst #obx fic #obx

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corpse--diem · 5 years ago

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Leave What’s Heavy Behind | Nic & Erin

Summary: Now that the party’s over, Nic and Erin address the mind-controlling squid in the room. Featuring: @bountybossier and Dundee When: Immediately following this chatzy (May 2, 2020)

Erin tossed what felt like the fiftieth red solo cup into the trash bag in her hands. It was like a scavenger hunt at this point with the way they kept popping just when she thought she’d found the last. Not that she minded. With all the effort that Skylar and Nell had put into Nic’s surprise party, cleaning up however she could only felt right. It had been her best excuse to stay long after most of the guests had made their way home too. When she set the garbage bag down, the crinkling ceased and the house shook with silence. A good silence. Like the pause you took to catch your breath after a long, hard laugh. Today was a good day. “Did you have a good time too, buddy?” Erin cooed softly at the tiny dog passed out on the couch, gator suit still intact. She still struggled to wrap her head around it. A big man, his tiny dog, in their very real home, surrounded by people who genuinely cared about him. Living instead of existing. It was a hell of a thing, and far from how she’d originally found him. Holed up in a dirty hotel room and drinking himself stupid. He did good here. Real good. Her brow narrowed, derailed suddenly by her own thoughts. How many of those guests knew what he’d done but chose to come anyway? Were they afraid? Had they been there for him when her own fears had held her back?

Fuck. Guilt that she’d been ignoring all day crept back in with a fury. Nearly convinced her to duck and run. Disappearing would only make this worse, she did know that much. Didn’t take long to find him again, or to ease a gentle smile back onto her lips. That much always came easy around him. “Think I’m gonna head out,” she gestured towards the front door with her thumb. Felt that tension return with a snap. “Can I—uh, I mean—do you need anything before I do?”

The joyful noise of the party and the silence of its after became a liminal space that Nicodemus settled into. Settled. He had, in a way, hadn’t he? He was cleaning his house. A house he shared with someone he cared a great damn deal about. Not some crumbling hotel room or his own little space in the woods. It was a wide space with so many damn doors and windows, so many walls, that he didn’t know whether he was being constricted or allowed to breathe. He told Skylar he wanted to make it safe. Make it a home by any definition that they wanted. He meant that. His brow furrowed as he moved about, cleaning messes as he went. It didn’t take him long to figure out what Walker left him and he tucked that away into his room. He could hear Erin moving about in the other room. Smiled a bit as he heard her talking to Dundee. It felt like one of those tv shows he caught a sneak at when he was younger. Nearly just as distant too. Surreal. Damn the quiet. He was thinking too much.

Everyone had parted, exchanged their gifts and their goodbyes, but she remained. She didn’t have to but she did. Even after. Was she still afraid of him? He didn’t blame her. Wouldn’t ever. There many things he didn’t know, like how to rightly read the space between them, but he knew that. When she spoke to him, he looked over and for a breath, let the silence settle again. “Yeah, it’s gettin’ that time, huh?” He finally said, hands loosely together. “I can, uh, walk you out.”

Oh, yep. This was weird. It’d been easy enough to avoid the awkwardness with a house full of people the entire night but it was here. Screaming between every pause. He’d always been hard to read, and maybe it was the guilt needling Erin’s insides, but she had to wonder if he was relieved she was finally leaving. “Sure, yeah. I’d like that,” she answered finally. Forced another smile when words felt too hard again, then headed slowly for the door. Hesitated when they got close, turning just enough to glance over at him. “You had a good time tonight, I hope?” She asked, shoving her hands into her back pockets when she didn’t know what to do with them. “I haven’t seen you laugh like that since…” she paused, narrowed her brows together, though her smile grew more genuinely. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much in one night.” A nervous laugh slipped from her and she was looking over at the door again before meeting his eyes the best she could. “Looks good on you. Should try doing it more often.”

Shit, he was making it weird, wasn’t he? It was hard to match a bigger elephant in the room than mind-controlled murder. The blatant admittance of it. “You got it.” As they walked to the door, Nicodemus kept trying to grasp what to say in his hands. It slipped through like fresh blood. He fought to keep them from clenching. A nervous, cold sweat chilled his back. Had his bones shaking like something anomalous. Damn it. Damn it. Could load a gun after being shot but he could hardly speak as he was about to leave. He blinked. “Huh?” Jesus. “Oh, yeah. Was nice. I didn’t even remember it was comin’ up,” he said. Nearly grimaced. He didn’t think of his life in birthdays or holidays. It was days not dead, days not being the one in the bag. She didn’t need to say it to know what she meant. It was hard to forget. “Unexpected but not...bad.” Just as much as he remembered shaking from near-death experiences, near-life experiences registered about the same. His smile, small and uncertain, crawled out from under a mossy rock. Then she was looking at the door and it went away. Right. “Think so?” His brows lifted in muted surprise. He was mindful as he could be as he passed her to open the door with a soft click. “Guess it’s better than blood, huh?” Immediately, he winced and nearly buried his teeth into his cheek.

There it was again. He smiled and for just a second all the awful things sitting between them felt not nearly as impossible. Then he opened the door. Erin’s chest jarred. Oh. She didn’t need to be told twice. “Yeah. Just a little bit,” she laughed quietly, hoping to dispel some of the anxiety crawling back up her throat. She stepped just past the threshold. Couldn’t muster the more clever banter they usually tossed back and forth. It felt wrong. This all felt wrong, and no part of her was able to turn around and walk up that driveway yet. So she stood still, quiet, for a few moments more. Felt her cheeks burning as her brain urged her to say or do something more than awkwardly stand on this his doorstep. “I’m sorry,” she finally blurted out. It felt loud in her head and she hoped it was just because of the sobering silence. But she nodded, swallowing thickly as she continued. “About—I should have been there for you and I wasn’t.” It was simple and it wasn’t. They both knew that. He had killed a man. He didn’t want to, wouldn’t have, if he had any control over the matter. But he’d asked for her and she didn’t come. Turned her back to the person she was closest to in this entire fucked up world when he’d needed her most. Her reasons were logical—he could have been dangerous. Still could be. Wasn’t like they knew how this worked.

She took another breath. “I fucked up and I get it. I get it if things aren’t--” The words felt like razors in her throat and her eyes glossed wetly. Fuck. That didn’t take long. “If things are different now. Because you wouldn’t have hesitated. Not for me or anyone else who showed up here today.” She took an unconscious step backwards, letting her arms hang loose at her sides, clenching and unclenching her fists. Terrified, but not of him. “I get it and I’m sorry. But, uh--you deserved today. Don’t let me ruin that. Just wanted to make sure you knew it. All of that.” Oh, god. She had to force herself to stop rambling. Fucking nerves and emotions and mysteriously strong green alcoholic refreshments didn’t mix. Her hands shook and she nodded at him, forcing a tight-lipped smile. Time to fucking go. “Happy Birthday, Nic,” she added and turned to retreat.

He couldn’t blame the alcohol for the twist of his guts or the cold heat that gripped his skin. He had stopped drinking hours ago. No, it was different. It was fear. It was restlessness. It was an anxiety that gripped him tight, compressed him into something small. It was new. Wholly new and it caught his breath in a dead man’s grip as Nicodemus looked at Erin. Shit. Had his lung been punctured? Was it collapsing as he stood there? It felt painful, that side pain that nudged against his insides like a thin spearhead. Then she apologized to him and he froze, hand against the doorframe. He tried not to splinter it. Everything felt too fragile as it was. Dark eyes stared at her. Stricken. It was a slow bleed, the way he looked at Erin. The initial sharp sting, the acceptance. How it had changed over time, what time was even left, startled him. Words failed him as he looked at her. Couldn’t look away from her. She turned to leave and he moved.

Fragile.

His hand caught around her wrist, thumb against the pulse point inside of her wrist. A quiet thunder rumbled overhead in the grey. The grip he had was loose yet secure. “Don’t,” he said, voice alive with a faint tremor. “Ain’t got shit to be sorry for, Erin.” He said as he simply held her wrist and didn’t move. He was dangerous. He knew that. Had made a life off of that simple fact. The talk he had with Skylar hummed in his head. “You wanted to be safe, Erin,” he assured, brows furrowed in disbelief. “I want you safe too. I know I ain’t always that.” It was odd to voice it, but he wanted to be. For her. For Skylar. Orion. Nell. Everyone that he had met and given an inkling of a damn about. He didn’t know when that had started. Both warning and safety, could he be that? He didn’t know. Couldn’t wrap his head around it. His tongue wet his lips as he looked away. Swallowed the nervousness that tasted like sea salt. “Maybe shit’s different, but…We can be here now. That’s somethin’.”

Safe. It seemed like a hell of thought now as she stood here. Fear was at the heart of all this agonizing but Erin couldn’t feel that anymore, she realized. Not any fear of physical harm, anyway. She’d barely blinked as he stopped her. Like one of those things you saw in movies that you hoped would happen but didn’t actually experience in real life. She wasn’t afraid of him. It’d been a slow trickle all day as it left her, leaving that well dry. The only fear she had was of her own making. Maybe there was something more hiding behind his dark eyes, something to fear. There was a reason, a very good reason, to stay away. But she couldn’t see it now. And even if she did, the vulnerability in his voice crushed all good reason to dust. “You do. Feel safe, I mean,” she admitted quietly, a somber smile briefly gracing her lips. He’d killed a man, maybe didn’t have his mind completely to his own, but her logic was wrong. Maybe there was something more wrong with her for feeling like this, but—here she was.

Her eyes dropped to the hand covering her wrist, and she turned them enough to graze her thumb against his palm. “I can be here,” she nodded in agreement, her feet cementing themselves squarely in front of him. “I want to be here.” Admitting that was maybe the most terrifying part of this whole thing so far, she thought. But she was glad for it. Her chest felt a little lighter, calmer. “Different doesn’t always have to be bad, right?” She asked, glancing up at him with a little more courage than before.

His lips parted by a fraction, cold breaths puffed against slightly chapped lips. Her wrist was warm in his hand. Real and tangible. Alive. Nicodemus was too. The difference between being alive and living was manifesting itself slowly in the space between his heart and his head. A barren space that had long been detached from one another. Drop a little red into it and watch the way it expanded. Ran along the grooves of something not quite empty. Not quite hollow. The worry that had haunted him from the corners of his skull were banished, exorcised, when Erin smiled at him. Breath filled his lungs and his eyes slipped shut for a moment. Thank fuck, went unsaid, but he felt it nonetheless. She had come to mean a great deal to him in such little time. A friend, something dear. A handler of the dead guiding a man with one foot in the grave already.

“I’d, uh, like it. If you were. Here.” He wasn’t much for metaphor or fancy words, but he was human and he could feel more than he could ever say. Her thumb tracing shapes compelled him to meet her eyes as she stood in front of him. Maybe it wasn’t so much a mess as he thought. Still a mess, but not as much. It was in their natures to be a little messy, wasn’t it? “Nah,” he finally said, pulling himself from his quiet. Quiet, tender like a bruise. “Maybe not always. Not right now, at least.” Whatever it was, he wanted to pull it out of River Styx and keep it between their hands. “D’you want to come back in?”

Erin’s worry from earlier felt so unfounded suddenly. She would have felt mortified for the dramatics if she could think about anything other than the way he was looking at her right now. Like he was thankful she wasn’t walking away from him. It was odd being looked at like that. Knowing maybe someone needed her as much as she needed them. Need. First time that word crossed her mind when she thought about the man in front of her but it fit in a way she didn’t expect it to. Her smile felt a little stronger when she looked up at him again, tilting her head slightly. “I think it’s pretty obvious I do, dumbass,” she teased, her voice soft and quiet. She squeezed his hand. “Don’t, uh--get weird on me here or anything, okay?” Watching him, she took the most gentle step forward. So tentative that she was probably being overcautious, but she hadn’t forgotten the fate that poor, inflated crocodile had met when they entered the party. In the back of her mind, maybe there was some genuine worry, but her arms were coiling around his sides anyway, pulling him in against her. If he wouldn’t accept her apology, he couldn’t ignore this.

He didn’t think he’d be happy to hear the words dumbass again but hell, there it was, causing him to smile to himself. Yeah, sure he was a dumbass. Nicodemus, over hours and days and weeks, had come to the realization that he was something more. Even just slightly. He could smile and laugh, could care and maybe even be cared for too. It didn’t change what he was, but just maybe, who. It was a damned silly thing to hope and he knew that. Hope didn’t last long. It was the first to die on any given field. But maybe, when she smiled at him, he could believe in a silly thing. Just for a little. Just until he looked at another crumpled paper and decided what it was worth. “That depends, y’know. People already think I’m pretty fuckin’ weird.” Reflexively, he braced as she took a step toward him. Not her fault. Then she had her arms around him and he realized that he was standing there like a bies had caught his eye. Like...a dumbass. Damn it. Carefully, his arms went around her too. Gently. With his eyes closed and a slight smile, he murmured by her ear. “I don’t think Dundee’d mind if we scooted him over on the couch,” he said. He pulled away for a second to look at her, the slightest worry etched into his face. “If you wanted to come in. Lookin’ like it might rain.”

“Because you are. Weird. I thought we went over this?” Erin huffed out a laugh, relief trickling from her chest. When his arms finally wrapped her, she squeezed him tighter. His arms were warm and comforting in all of the ways that they probably shouldn’t be. “If he’s got a problem, he can take it up with me,” she chuckled again, pulling back when he did. Thunder rumbled above them almost as if on cue. She nodded, one hand moving almost without thinking to cradle his jaw. “I already told you I do,” she insisted, raising a brow. She was here, after all. And maybe it was because of the shadows, but his worry lines seemed deeper than she’d seen them before. Her tone remained soft though and she ran her thumb against his cheek for a moment. When the sky rumbled again and broke above them, she pulled away completely as the rain started to come down and ran inside. Dundee didn’t seem to be bothered by the noise, and she watched him carefully to make sure he was still breathing as she took her jacket back off. “There any birthday cake left?” she asked, glancing back at him once she was sure.

Nothing ever felt real until it was taken into someone else’s hands. Erin’s skin against his ground and brought him back from that place he wandered off to. It wasn’t a good place. He had decided that much. Nicodemus sighed out something of a laugh through his nose. Shook his head slightly. How the hell had he gotten here? By the word of someone that promised a fruitful bounty in White Crest. How far off that seemed. Then again, life came by quickly and it never came assured. “Don’t know about that, he can be real particular,” he rumbled out. “You’d think he was a bigger dog sometimes.” He had never been intimidated by a rat dog before, yet there he was. She had, hadn’t she? Assured him that she wanted to be there. Hell, it was real. It was good to have something real after having his mind held in the hands of something else. As the sky opened up, he followed behind and shut out the rain. Took in a breath that pained the constriction of his ribs. Exhausted and alive all at once. Human almost. “I’m sure there’s some gator bits left, yeah,” he said as he approached Dundee. Black eyes met his own and they looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, the dog acquiesced and scooted. One point for him. The hunter paused before he looked over at Erin. “You...You can ask. About the whole thing. I don’t mind talkin’ about it.” Maybe it would help. Maybe it wouldn’t. But to have it sit back on his neck, even after he had talked to Nell, was choking him.

Erin didn’t actually want cake. Or food. Not even whiskey, really. It was just filler, and he cut right through it without her having to make the crude segway. She wrung her hands together, hovering above the couch. Where to start? “Did you know what you were doing? I know you couldn’t stop it but--could you see it as it was happening?” She asked, sliding into the spot beside him. There was nothing but genuine curiosity. Losing control like that? God, that was fucking terrifying. Her spine went cold at just the thought. She narrowed her eyes, another question popping out before she could stop herself from asking. “Is it--whatever it is--still in there?” In him. A little lurch of fear jumped back up her throat. She swallowed it down just as fast. She wouldn’t leave, and she intended on keeping that promise. Her shoulders rested against the back of the couch to emphasize it. Nope. Not going anywhere.

Nicodemus worked out the rust of his jaw as he sat. He thought he had done that during the party but no, it wasn’t the same. That was small talk, words to pass the time and fill in space. Not that he had minded it. But it was inherently different. In a way, talking about it might be a way to purge it. An experience like that didn’t just go away, but it didn’t need to consume. He needed to have bigger teeth, a stronger jaw. Bite back harder. He just didn’t know how. “I did, yeah,” he said. “It was uh, out-of-body. I was there but I wasn’t. My hands doin’ shit but it wasn’t me.” He could still feel the way flesh gave when he stabbed into it, the weight going limp as the poison seeped in. He breathed in through his nose sharply. Her question was a fair one. Couldn’t blame her for asking. “Nah, I don’t think so. I feel different, yeah, but not...that different. If that makes sense.” He glanced over at her, dark eyes on her blue ones. “Think it’s just me now.”

That night was playing out behind his eyes and Erin could see the bitter struggle that took hold of him while it looped. This wasn’t something they could ignore or pretend wasn’t happening. Only way past it was through it. And he was doing just that. Talking about it the best he could. It was a start. “It makes sense,” she assured him, holding his gaze. Couldn’t help but wonder if there was something she missed before. A spot or darkness--anything at all to let them know everything wasn’t alright, wasn’t alone in there. There was nothing different. Knew it the longer she stared. She didn’t know what to make of that either. Just knew she still felt that good kind of ache in her chest when he stared back. “Feels like it’s just you,” she said softly, a little smile lifting the corner of her lips. “I’m sure it’s hard to disconnect the two but,” she shook her head, reaching for his hand. “What you did wasn’t you. I know that. And I think somewhere in there, you know that too.”

Did it make sense? Hell, it hadn’t to him. Not at the time. A month’s worth of disorientation had left Nicodemus winded. Tired. Confused. But it would come back. Between Skylar, Nell, and Erin, he was being brought back. Pulled in from the tide that had wrapped around him and pulled him to the sea. Fuck that squid. Whatever the fuck it was. Demon or otherwise. He could feel sorry about what happened or he could be angry. He chose anger. Perhaps even acceptance. The past couldn’t be changed. That made sense. He held onto that, the same way he held Erin’s gaze and her hand. “Gettin’ there, I think,” he muttered. “The disconnect. The person that did that doesn’t have the shit I do now. I’ve been tryin to keep that in mind.” He matched her smile with a tired one of his own. Then startled slightly when he felt paws digging into his thigh. Dundee looked at them, perched atop his leg. Looked at them for a long moment before, like a long-haired blonde sausage, he laid himself out across the small space between them. The hunter went quiet. Then he snorted. Finally, a full laugh came out of him. “Yeah, don’t think anything’ll happen to us with this little shit here, huh?”

“You will get there,” Erin nodded firmly, repeating his words back to him. There wasn’t much she could do but listen and assure. He would get past this. That wasn’t something she’d bend on. They were in whole new depths and the most they could do--what she knew she could do--was help keep him anchored before his own thoughts drifted him too deeply off to sea. Her eyes dropped to his hand wrapped in hers. The same hand that had was drenched in another man’s blood and capable of so much darkness. And still, the same one that squeezed her own with the kind of softness she saw in his eyes. It’s why she would stay and would always stay. As long as he’d have her. “Both of those people deserved better. And you’ve got a lot of people who love you to remind you of that,” she smiled softly, the proof in the mess they hadn’t gotten to cleaning up, scattered around them in the shape of empty beer bottles and Clint Eastwood cutouts. Cheesy, sure. But true. A support system as strong as an army to keep him anchored. That’s what they were there for. Even the sad excuse for the dog that suddenly rose back to life was on his side. Fuck. She’d nearly forgotten about Dundee until he popped in to nestle between them.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she laughed, petting the top of his head once he was good and comfortable. “Am I hogging all of your daddy’s attention, buddy? I’m so sorry,” she cooed, scratching behind his ear. “Honestly, I’m not sure you need anyone else but this guy on your side. He’s pretty tough,” she said, starting off serious before dissolving into another fit of giggles as the dog stared between them, still snug in his gator suit.

She seemed so...sure. Nicodemus had been so sure before too. He had been sure of plenty before he had wandered into White Crest with his hands around the wheel of a rusted truck and a clean gun under the seat. Certain that he wouldn’t spend longer than a month there. Certain he would fade away over state lines as quickly as he had arrived. That he wouldn’t leave a mark or get attached, as he was certain that he wasn’t the type to. Loneliness unheard had a way of echoing such things. All those certainties faded as the seasons changed. Fluttered to the earth and then turned over, grew into something new. New and not quite understood. A lot of people who love you to remind you of that. That ‘L’ word flared up a fear in him that turned his insides, shot momentary panic through him. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Not with Dundee where he was and Erin where she was. Not without a sudden violent shift. Maybe that was the point. His mother had wanted such things for him. Wanted him to choose that over the knife. Even still, he chose the latter. In a way, perhaps, they were both knives. One opened a wound to a beginning and the other to an ending. A sardonic smile shifted his face.

It wasn’t unlike him to consider the edges.

“He’s confusin’,” he muttered as he idly ran his fingers down Dundee’s crocodile-covered back. The dog didn’t seem particularly bothered one way or the other. “One second I think he hates people and then he goes and does this shit.” He gestured to the complete relaxation that the creature had settled into. The hunter breathed in slowly, let it out just the same. Then he looked at Erin with slight concern. “Thanks. I wanna try, at least. Not sure at what, but I...dunno.” He looked forward again and worked his jaw. “Can...Shit, can I kiss you? That weird? I know the dog’s right here an’ all…”

There would always be more Erin wished she could do or say to calm some of that chaos in his mind. It wouldn’t happen overnight. Probably not tomorrow, or the night after that even. But he had the tools. He just had to see them for what they were, who they were, and to let himself heal, she supposed. Try to, like he said. Trying was all they could hope for. Just like how she’d try to be what he needed during this. They were both learning, both trying. Her head rested gently against his shoulder, hiding a smirk that came on as he pet Dundee again. “Maybe that’s why you two get along so well,” she teased, running her hand along his arm. Really wasn’t that far from the truth, she realized. She opted to keep that part to herself.

Couldn’t help but let another laugh out, short and soft at his question. So sweet and earnest that it had taken her off guard. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ she shook her head, biting back another one. Finally chanced a look up at him, turning just enough to face him without startling the man or the dog, though she cared considerably less about scaring the latter away right about now. “Yes,” she answered, carefully turning his jaw towards her, her hand lingering against the warm skin there. She could understand his hesitation. Disaster after disaster had ruined every chance they’d had to talk about that since it’d happened, so it was a simple question but a good one. One that brought a sense of relief from that other tightness she’d almost forgotten was still sticking to her ribs. She was already leaning in, tugging him closer, lips inches from his when she paused. Swallowed hard, meeting those dark eyes with her own. Felt her heart race. “Next time you don’t have to ask, okay?” She asked, still smiling, though her tone was all but telling him. Whatever this was, she was in it. All the way. Just hoped what she couldn’t say right now came across with that small offering.

Any slight flare of negative emotion that came up when Erin laughed quickly went away when she looked up at him. Nicodemus fell into an easy, tired smile. In a funny kinda way, it was about the falling to begin with. Slow. Unsure. Maybe not every fall had to be a terrible, disastrous event. Cataclysmic. It could be quiet. It could be gentle. When her breath warmed his lips, the corner of his mouth lifted. “Next time, huh?” The faint laugh didn’t hide that anxious tilt of his heart, his head, but she had said it. Her words were between them and he’d hold onto them. His hand came up to cup her jaw like something delicate. His forehead pressed against hers before finally, he kissed her.

The future wasn’t something he looked forward to. Nothing he ever saw as guaranteed or deserved. But if she wanted him there in a way that he also wanted to be, in a way that terrified but prevented him from fleeing, he would be. The next day and the day after. One small defiant handful of grave dirt after the next.

#chatzy #chatzy: nic #leave what's heavy behind #wickedswriting #//i would like to file a complaint #lora wrecked me w this chatzy

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airtosted · 4 years ago

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Just out of curiosity because your art is one of the most popular in the bitty tag-- what is the appeal of an "Edgy"? I only ever see them being mean and hurting people, it seems like they're sort of abusive. You seem to like them so I thought I'd ask.

First of all, thank you for asking nicely. Honestly, I got this question before and the persons asking weren’t very nice during the conversation, so it’s refreshing to see there’s still some civil and mature people out there. So yeah, thank you~

Secondly, I like Edgy because I find his character very intriguing and complex. I’ve seen around people posting their opinions or commenting on other people’s posts saying how they strongly dislike the Edgy bitty before, going as far as saying that they should be killed or burned because they’re nothing but abusive trash that only bites. Looking at it from those people’s perspective it does seem like the Edgy bitty is abusive and mean and uncapable of learning to behave good or having some manners and nothing more than just some wild animal or something.

But the thing is, that’s not how I see them. I see a creature, a small few inches skeletal creature, that has his own thoughts and feelings and wants to be loved and accepted, kind of like humans in a way. Lot of people see Bitties(and I don’t mean just Edgy, but all the other types as well) as a less intelligent creature or a “pet” cause of their size and their need to depend on humans for survival. They see a pet who they want to order around or control. Or as something they can use to earn money thru entertainment. But I see there’s more depth to them than that. Looking at all the things the bitties are capable of you can see that they’re capable of understanding and sympathizing with humans. I see them as creatures who are smarter(I’d go as far to say even ‘more human’) than any animal/pet. When I see Bitties I honestly think of a very little person who I could befriend if they were real and not just fictional characters. It’s just some would be easier to get closer to/along with than others.

To make it easier to understand what I’m trying to say I’ll compare them to a cat; some cats are more friendly in nature and don’t mind you getting close to it and touching/petting it, no matter if you own i or not, while others are more prone to bite you or scratch you if you try to approach them or pet them, but not to be mean, but because they feel scared, trapped or don’t trust people anymore due to past bad experiences.The first kind of cat reminds me of baby Blues. The last makes me think of Edgys which I’ll talk more below since your ask was about them not bitties in general.

Now that I covered my basic opinion of bitties, let’s talk about Edgys. You say edgy is mean and you know what there’s some truth there, he can be mean sometimes. But when he does that stop and think why he’s saying that. Usually people’s first thought is that he’s not trained good and needs to have that kind of talk/behavior punished(or worse, beaten) out of him. He’ll say you’re stupid or that he’ll kill you, but IMO he’s not saying that just for the lolz or because he’s stupid and doesn’t know such behavior isn’t socially acceptable, no, he's saying it because he’s scared. He’s trying to act tough to push people away in fear of being hurt or killed. So he insults and threatens you because he knows people don’t like that and there’s a big chance you’ll give up on your attempts and walk away. Sure he could teleport away, but bitties can’t use a lot of magic because it tires them out. The more magic they use and more often tires them out faster. And if they don’t have anything to eat to fill up those reserves back they’ll be weak. And a weak bitty could potentially be a dead bitty, as how Edgy would probably see it having his soul originate from his larger counterpart that lived in a kill or be killed kind of world. So teleporting away is out of the question or it wouldn’t help him much, and he can’t fight back(I like/support the headcanon(last paragraph of the backstory)) made by Poetax where she said that the bitties have some restrains regarding their magic), so what can he do? He curses up a storm and yells at you to back off, hoping his plan A works.

But let’s say the human isn’t listening and still tries to touch him or capture him. Proceeding like so he might go for plan B and now you’re entering the biting zone. Is biting someone considered nice behavior or fun? No. If you don’t listen to Edgy’s warning then there is a 100% chance he’s going to try to bite you. His bites the way I see it are a reaction to being small and being treated as someone small. He is anxious about being small and being controlled by those larger than him. Let’s be honest nobody would like that. Having someone huge like a giant compared to small you, with the possibility they might treat you like a marionette and/or hurt you just cause you are small and can’t fight back.... yeah, I don’t know about you but that’d make me very anxious and scared. So I see Edgy usually biting for two main reasons;

1) As a way to gain control of the situation he’s in. If people aren’t respecting his physical boundaries(which he let you know previously) then he’s going to bite you.

2) He bites as a source of his only power and influence. Because again he be a smol bean and yelling sometimes doesn’t work. But listen, I believe if Edgy feels comfortable and that he is in a place where he is respected/safe and doesn’t need to keep his guard up all the time around the person, he will respect the other person in return. Living with Edgy doesn’t have to be painful or full of constant biting, it just takes time and patience to earn his trust and show him you’re not going to hurt him. Basically if you guys are cool his biting will drop to 0, or at least will go from being painful and bloody to playful nipping.

But you also mentioned that you see him as abusive?? First I want to say I don’t support abusive behavior or abusive manipulating people. I know sometimes it can be hard to tell the difference, believe me, it took ME almost 13 years to learn it. But an abusive person and hmm let’s say a person with anger or anxiety issues(mixed with lack of trust in people) are two different things. An abusive/manipulating person will appear nice in public to trick others into believing they are this person they appear to be, and they are controlling their emotions and/or situation while doing so. They’re master actors to put it simply. Since Edgy is based of his larger counterpart his anger issues are mellowed down a bit(at least how I see him) so he is more grumpy than angry IMO, but his larger counterpart(who is actually Poe’s UF Sans named Red from her story The Skeleton Games) WOULD fall into the category of someone with anger and anxiety issues. His bouts of rage and yelling are at the moment when they happen uncontrolled and results of his emotions taking over. He doesn’t know how to control his emotions or how to express them in a more easier less vocal way, but that’s not something he couldn’t learn(with a little bit of help from a professional ofc) over time. Red doesn’t pretend to be someone he isn’t, he has a basically ‘what you see is what you get buddy’ kind of attitude about himself. He is not trying to control anyone, he is just scared about dying or worse losing his bro, anxious when he’s around humans he doesn’t trust, angry at the world and humans cause they trapped his species under a mountain and all in all in general just a big huge depressed self hating mess. But he just needs someone to help him out. He needs someone to help him work out his anger issues and to let things go. He needs someone to help him get his HoPe back.....

And Edgy taking after him has similar like issues. He is scared of being hurt, anxious around humans who he doesn’t trust cause of many encounters with bad people in the past, angry at the world and humans cause they made him so small so they can boss him around and control him. In short, the way how I see him is that he is just a big tsundere character who’s been hurt, and wishes to be accepted and loved like the other bitties by a owner, who instead of judging him based on their first meeting will try to understand him and break down his walls. He needs a owner who can withstand the storm long enough to see his mask crack and they’ll see there is some goodness in his soul. Despite him being classified as a monster, Edgy isn’t a monster. That’s how I see him and that’s why I like him. To me he is more than just some abusive, mean bitty who likes to bite people all around. There, you have my answer...

Of course, you don’t have to agree with me on this. :) You are allowed to have your own opinion or to disagree with me. I just hope that reading this might help you see things from my perspective and help you understand my adoration for the little nibbler. Or just make you stop and think a bit more about the character and see that he could be a good companion/friend(see how I didn’t use the term pet, Edgy isn’t found of being called or considered that) if you give him a chance.

💀❤ If you have patience and a lot of understanding you might make a good friend for life who will be loyal to you as long as you never betray or abandon him.

💀❤ He will protect/guard you from dangers, despite his small size. He will protect you because you are important to him.

💀❤ You’re his owner, the only owner who he trusts and loves(though he’ll never say it out loud) and he feels safe around you.

💀❤ He feels happy around you... He feels finally like he found his home...

💀❤ He feels finally like he is worth more than his EXP now that he has you...

#ask skorpi #skorpi answers #bittybones #anon ask #Ho boi my fingers hurt from writing so much lol #but I finally answered this once and for all and I never have to write my answer again

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

Text

The Serpent and the Frog

Summary: After Virgil goes missing, the other Light Sides goes looking for him. They don’t quite find the person they want to.

A/N: This was supposed to come out yesterday with the last Superhero story, but here’s another one for this week. Enjoy.

To say Patton was panicking was an understatement.

It was 11 at night, the three Light Sides were walking up and down the Gainesville section of town, Logan was occupying his concentration, instead of over-worrying himself, by calculating a radius Virgil could have walked or been taken — willingly or otherwise — by car or bus within the last five hours since he was last spotted by Eric. He didn’t want to have to recalculate his estimates or add in a trajectory with airplane routes.

“How could I not notice!?” Patton was sobbing, repeatedly having to dip his hands under the mask to clear his eyes. “What if he’s hurt or lost?”

“We will find him Patton,” Logan reassured sharply, also trying to keep himself calm. “Virgil would not have let anything happen to him without a fight.”

“I bet it was that nasty snake, or the Duke,” Roman had kept his sword drawn the whole time.”

“If we cannot find him within the next ten minutes we will ask them personally,” Logan promised.

“When I see them, I’ll—” Roman began to vow.

“Pat!”

All three of the Sides turned to see Virgil, still in his cloak, his eyeliner and eyeshadow looking like it had been hastily reapplied.

“V— Anxiety!” Patton yelled out in relief. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

When Patton got within arm’s length, Virgil shot out one of his spider legs and hooked into Patton’s sleeve, using Patton’s momentum to throw him at a nearby trash can.

Patton let out a little pained squeak.

“What the heck?” Roman demanded, his sword instantly turning into a wooden katana as he dropped into a fighting stance. “What was that for?”

Virgil’s remaining spider legs popped out and he just smiled at him.

“Fine, en garde!” Roman yelled and charged.

“Roman, that would be unwise,” Logan began but fell back into silence, folding his arms in front of him, as Roman went to hit Virgil on the arm.

“Virgil” pulled out a black cane with a hook suddenly appearing in his hands and the Side hooked into Roman’s sash and sent him crashing into Patton who was standing back up.

The Side turned back to Logan, “Next?”

“No, I don’t think so Deceit, you’ve saved us the trouble of looking for you,” Logan refused.

“You monster,” Roman jumped up, his sword turning back into proper folded steel. “What did you do to Virgil?”

“Nothing,” Janus shrugged, his tone terse, “I resent the question.”

“Do you know Anxiety’s current location,” Logan asked.

“No,” Janus spoke with an overly smug tone. “I thought he was all buddy-buddy with you all.”

“So you took him as revenge,” Roman accused. “You couldn’t let him be himself.”

“I wasn’t letting him be himself?” Now Janus was sounding a bit angry. “If he was so himself and happy, why did he come to me, crying his eyes out?”

That was only partially true, Virgil had been crying, but he’d been brought to Janus, and would hate that Janus had admitted even part of that. But the Light Sides didn’t need to know that.

“You liar,” Roman rebuked.

“Is he okay now?” Patton cut in, trying to look around Roman.

“He’s lying,” Roman reminded.

“He knows where Vee is,” Patton reminded angrily. “Is he okay? Is he hurt?”

“Oh now you all care,” Janus spat at Patton, pulling Roman away and almost throwing him into the busy street just to keep him occupied. “You let him wander around as if all of us didn’t have a target on our backs. You act like a caring parent but you basically threw him to the wolves!”

Unbeknownst to any of the Sides, even Logan, the nearby pharmacy sign had arced and shorted a bit and Anti leaned against the sign, watching the Side arguing and waiting for a point to jump in and attack Logic again for his frustrating tech. But as he started listening to Morality and Deceit, he started to become more interested in the living soap drama in front of him.

“What was I supposed to do? Force him to talk and stay next to me the whole time?” Patton shouted back.

Roman was gearing up to try and attack Janus again, but the romantic Side was pulled back by Logan and told to wait for Patton to calm down and an actual fight to break out.

“How about something?” The deceitful Side demanded. “How about making sure he wasn’t climbing ass-backwards into a lion’s den and almost getting mauled to death?”

“He was fighting lions?” Patton gasped in shock and horror. “I love giant kitties.”

“I assume you are speaking figuratively,” Logan commented.

“Of course I am!” Janus shouted at the top of his lungs.

Anti was quietly chuckling to himself, his legs dangling over the roof of the pharmacy, he’d summoned a popcorn bag full of computer parts and pieces of a motherboard.

“You had one job,” Janus reminded Patton sharply, “you promised me you’d take care of him, and look at the mess you got him into. Dark is looking for your identity and he’s paying for the fact you have awful people on your side.”

“I didn’t do anything to Dark but be a good person,” Morality looked and sounded scandalized.

“You had to have done something,” Janus reminded. “You’re so careless, this is exactly why I took the others and left.”

“I was still new and emotional,” Patton defended heatedly. “What did you want me to say?”

“Try the next time you saw us when you called me a manipulative snake and an awful lawyer,” Janus answered.

“You were both of those things and you tried to make me look bad in front of the others,” Patton pointed out.

“Oh honey, I didn’t need any help with that,” Janus snidely commented. “You did my job better than I ever could.”

“You refused to let me be the defense attorney in your fake court case, of course we think you did a bad job,” Logan reminded.

“Hey,” Roman cut in. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Don’t defend him on this,” Logan ordered, shaking his head once. “Not for this.”

“In other news,” Janus tapped his cane to the ground. “I am stepping in, and taking Anx and you can’t stop me because I still have all of his stuff.”

“Villain!” Logan called out, finally noticing Anti who was watching them from the pharmacy rooftop, quickly alerting the others.

“Aww, come on, yeh paused my show,” Anti complained, motioning with his bag of computer parts. “It was just starting to get good.”

“Begone foul demon!” Roman exclaimed, pointing his sword towards him.

“I mean,” Anti jumped down to the ground, motioning to Patton, “I get why you didn’t want to tell the rest of us, Snake Eyes, your ex is a wet blanket.”

“But I—” Patton began, before Janus slapped his hand over his mask, giving him a sharp look.

“My personal life is none of your business,” Janus spat. “Nor has it ever been.”

Anti just cackled a little bit, “Come on, I figured that like Dark you had better taste in men. Not this.”

“You can’t talk to the Captain like that,” Roman threatened.

Janus whispered something close to Patton’s ear, then he started to walk away. “Well, if you want some of the hero’s time, I’ll give it to you. I’m done.”

Anti looked at Logan, weighing his options a bit, then shrugged, “Nah, I’m already in a good mood, besides, I hear Dark an’ one ‘a his boys are tryin’ ta make a deal by the wharf, see yah.”

Then Anti disappeared into a cloud of green and black pixels, shooting into the closest electronic.

Everyone waited for a bit, before Logan commented, “He’ll be back.”

“What was that about?” Patton demanded, clearly upset at Janus. “We were never dating.”

Janus rolled his eyes, “Well if you want Virgil to come out the other side of this, you should do as I say.”

“How is that helping Virgil?” Patton demanded.

“Because which is worse,” Janus began, “if the other villains think we were together, or they find out about Thomas?”

“A lot of people know we can fuse,” Roman scoffed.

“Deceit is right,” Logan cut in.

“He’s a liar, Roman reminded.

Logan frowned. “Any missing Side will be an eventual combination of Thomas lacking, and we do not know the state or which power Thomas will have when he comes back and making him even slightly vulnerable is something we can’t allow.”

“But this is dishonest,” Patton reminded with an edge of panic. “Lying is always wrong.”

“It’s not that much of a lie,” Janus smiled. “We were together once.”

Patton sputtered and shifted his weight uncomfortably, “Not like that.”

“Don’t worry,” Janus took Patton’s hand and kissed the back of it, “I won’t interrupt your little relationship with your lovebirds.”

Patton ripped his hand away, blushing, looking away. When he finally spoke he looked into Janus’s eyes, “You’re keeping him safe, right.”

Janus let out a disbelieving scoff, “Better than you are.”

“And you’d let him come back if he wanted it, right, because I’d hate to destroy your apartment,” Patton asked.

“If he wants to,” Janus said after a break pause, keeping Virgil’s face when the anxious Side told him he didn’t want to be a bad guy. Janus didn’t want Virgil to go back without understanding, but to Patton and the other Light Sides’ credit Virgil made it hard to protect them.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to do some research for a mission,” Janus turned, calling over his shoulder. “Anxiety is at the apartment, if any of you care to visit, but so is Remus so do so at your own risk.”

Patton looked hopeful, they just watched Janus disappear with one of his illusions, “Let’s go.”

“We should save that for tomorrow,” Logan interrupted. “While he might be awake at this absurd hour, we should visit him tomorrow now that we know he is in a safe location.”

“He’s living with the Duke and a glorified car salesman,” Roman scoffed.

“We know his location, and he had lived with them for years before moving into the base,” Logan reminded. “Tomorrow when we are refreshed we can pay him a visit.”

Roman argued his point a little bit but they headed back to the base, it was late and they wanted to be ready for the troubles of the next day.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Thomas Sanders #Jacksepticeye #Patton Sanders #Janus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders #Antisepticeye #misunderstanding #fake relationship #no one in the relationships are having a misunderstanding #magic #illusions

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super-legalizelove · 6 years ago

Text

Richard Madden Oneshot

Richard Madden X Reader

Prompts: None

Warnings: Cussing

Words: 6,701

You slam your computer closed letting out a groan of annoyance and you rub your face, on the brink of tears from frustration. You had been trying to write your novel for over three months now but every time you would write you would trash it, not finding the words right for the book. You had dropped out of school to write and since then you had taken on a shit paying job at a local newspaper and you only wrote with the little time you had to yourself. You had planned to write a romance novel, you loved reading about love but it was nearly impossible for you to write about it because you had never been in love.

You get up from your desk and make your way to your kitchen hoping to find some sort of edible food, in hopes that it would get the gears in your mind going. You find yourself severally disappointed when there was nothing but a sip of milk and butter left, you did not feel like getting groceries tonight so you decide to go a few blocks over to the sandwich shop and get dinner. You pull your hair up into a hat and you put on a jacket and leave after making sure you had your wallet in your pocket. The streets had a few cars on them but the sidewalks were empty. It was spring but London was still having chilly nights which made you pick up your pace so you weren’t out for too long. You see the sandwich shop and quickly go inside being greeted by the warmth of the shop.

“Ah Y/N good evening.” Tony the shop owner greets with a grin as he is leaning on the counter.

“Hey Tony, can I just et the usual?” You question and he nods with the grin still on his face. He calls my order back to his son and turns back to me.

“How has writing been? I am still waiting to read your book and brag that a famous author is a regular in my little shop.” You giggle at his flattery.

“I don’t know if it will ever get done, but I appreciate your support.” You put down some cash for him and he shakes his head sliding it back to you.

“On the house for my favorite customer.” You smile as he hands you the sandwich in a plastic bag. “Now get back home and rest, don’t overwork yourself.” You nod, thanking him and you exit the shop making your way back home. While walking you notice a cat walking in the middle of the street and it appeared to be hurt, without looking you make your way into the street to check on it and suddenly you were pulled back and you fell on top of someone as a car rushed past you and the cat ran away.

“What the hell was that for?” You exclaim, getting up from the ground looking at the stranger who had pulled you. He was very handsome with black curly hair, a strong jawline, and piercing blue eyes. He gets up from the ground dusting himself off chuckling to himself.

“You were not looking and were almost killed by that car. You’re welcome for saving your life by the way.” he retorts, and you scoff running your hand through your hair finding his tone to be very rude.

“I was fine.” You look towards the road and see no sign of the cat which made you even more frustrated by the stranger's actions. “And the cat was scared off.” You say your frustration showing.

“You walked into the street for a cat?” He laughs looking at you with disbelief.

“Are you laughing at me?” You glare at him not finding this amusing. You were tired and still had your computer at home waiting for you to open it and actually write, you were not in the mood to be judged by this stranger.

“Look I am sure the cat is fine, it ran off that is a good sign.” He answers, looking at me with his blue eyes, you now notice that he is wearing a baseball cap and a hoodie, with sunglasses in his hands which you found very suspicious.

“I am sorry but I really am not in the mood to carry on with this conversation. I just want to go home.” You start to walk away but soon enough notice that he is walking at your side with a grin.

“I didn’t catch your name.” Your roll your eyes and glance over at him.

“That is because I didn’t tell you.” You retort.

“Look I am sorry that I laughed it was not my intention to make you angry. How about we start over?” He questions and you stop walking and look at him.

“If I agree will you please stop following me?” He chuckles and nods, finding it refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t know who he is, someone who treats him like any other person you would meet. “Fine.”

“I am Richard.” He smiles, putting out his hand for you to shake it. You hesitate but then take it shaking his hand.

“I’m Y/N.” you give him a small smile, now feeling bad about being rude to him when he seemed very nice.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Y/N.”

“And you too. I better go back home it is getting late.” He grins and nods looking at the ground then back to you.

“You have a great night. I hope to see you again Y/N,” You blush and turn around walking back to your flat thinking about your encounter with Richard.

After a long night of staring at your computer screen, you wake up the next day feeling as if you had only slept for five minutes. Checking your phone you see that you have time to get coffee before work so you quickly get dressed leaving your flat with everything for work. Wearing your pencil skirt and button up shirt you could not help but shiver at the wind hitting your body, you really needed to invest in a proper jacket. You reach the small coffee shop and breathe in the wonderful smell of coffee and pastries, you go to the counter as your friend Rose walks up.

“Goodmorning Y/N. Long time no sees.” She grins and you giggle pulling out your wallet.

“Blame it on work and my computer, they don’t let me go out much.” She chuckles and shakes her head.

“Well you better believe that I am dragging you out soon, I need a bar buddy. Now, what can I get you?’ She asks.

“Chai Latte?” You propose and she grins entering it into the computer. While the other person working began working on that she looks back to you.

“So anything interesting happen lately?” She questions and you smile thinking back to last night.

“I actually got saved by some guy last night.” She looks at you with wide eyes encouraging you to go on. “There was a cat in the street and I walked out without looking and he pulled me back saving me from getting hit by the car.” You explain wanting to leave out the fact that you got angry at him for saving your life.

“Did you get a name? Was he Cute?” SHe pushes and you giggle shaking your head.

“He was very handsome, his name is Richard.” You admit and she grins widely.

“Did you get a number? Y/N you haven’t gone on a date in years! Now here comes a handsome stranger who saves you? It is a sign!” she exclaims.

“I didn’t get his number, there is a reason I don’t date rose. I don’t have time for it.” You giggle as your drink is finished, you grab it from the counter. “I will text you later I have to go to work.” You call to her as you leave the shop.

“If you run into Richard ask for his number!” She orders before the door closes and you laugh to yourself shaking your head. Walking the streets you make your way to your job wondering what they were going to have you do today. They never gave you any big stories only the small things that no one ever reads, and as much as you hated it you could not afford to quit.

You walk into work and show your badge making your way to your desk and you set down your bag and coffee down, freeing up your arms. You sit down and open up your computer opening up your emails, seeing one from your boss asking you to meet him when you get into work. Sighing you take a sip of your coffee then you make your way to his office, Jason or Mr. Reed, as he likes to be called, was a sexist pig but his father owned the company so he became your boss. You knock on his door and hear him call for you to come in.

“You wanted to see me?” You ask, shutting the door behind you. He was sitting in his seat and he grins at you while looking you up and down, his stares making you want to bathe yourself in bleach.

“Yes Y/N please sit down.” You follow his orders and sit in the chair in front of his desk. “I was reading your last article about the littering problem in London.” He states and you nod with a small smile, you worked on that article for weeks and it was your best work in your opinion. “I don’t think it is what the paper needs. When people read the paper they don’t want depressing facts, they get enough of that from the front page. I want you to write something else, how about dating in London? The best spots to go, the best things to do?” He offers and your smile disappears.

“I worked for weeks on that article.” You protest.

“And I am telling you it is not going to work.” He retorts, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t even write an article on dating, I don’t date.” Your answer.

“Then take the rest of the day off and figure it out. That is the article that I want.” You look at him in disbelief and stand up from your chair.

“No. I am so tired of you telling me that my writing is not good enough. I have been working here for two years and I have only been able to write articles that don’t even matter, while men who have been working here less than half my time have written multiple articles for the first page. So fuck you. Fuck this company. I quit.” You glare at him before storming out of his office slamming the door behind you. You grab your things from your desk and leave the building making your way back to your flat. You grab your phone and call Rose on your way home.

“Y/N what’s up, I just saw you.” she laughs into the phone.

“I want to go out tonight. I don’t care where just meet me at my place at 7.” She squeals on the other end and agrees and you hang up once you get home. Going into your flat you throw your things onto the floor and flop onto the couch letting out a frustrated groan, sinking back into the cushions. After a minute you then sit up with wide eyes. “Oh my god, what have a done?” You exclaim out loud. You had just quit your only source of income without even thinking about it, what were you going to do.

After a day full of worrying and searching for a job you looked at the time and decided to get ready before Rose got there. You picked out a low cut long sleeve, silk shirt and a black leather skirt paired with black heels. You did your makeup to match your outfit when you heard the doorbell ring. You answer the door seeing Rose dressed up in a white, form-fitting dress with a wide smile on her face.

“You look great! You are going to be turning heads tonight!” Rose exclaims looking me up and down. You blush and shake your head.

“They will be too busy looking at you. Now where are we going?” you ask and she grins.

“Get in the uber and find out my friend.” She giggles and you grab your bag and leave the house getting into the car with her. “So what made you want to come out? What happened?” She questions knowing when something was going on.

“I may have quit my job today.” You admit and she grins grabbing your hand.

“Finally! You dealt with their shit for too long!” You giggle softly looking at your hands, you couldn’t focus on the positives only on the fact that you were out of a job “Hey, I am serious. I am so proud of you.” She grins hugging you the best she could in the car. You smile and hug her back so grateful that you had her in your life. “Now just forget about that and let's have fun.” You smile and nod. You both exchanged small talk during the remainder of your ride and pulled up to a club that you had never been to before.

Once getting inside Rose dragged you over to the bar where you both ordered shots to get the night started. You sat at the bar while she was off dancing with strangers, you were watching her dancing between a guy and girl and you laugh to yourself, you had always admired her confidence and how she could always make herself at home no matter where she was. She soon enough makes eye contact with you and motions for you to come over. You quickly shake your head, and she rolls her eyes running over to you.

“Come dance! I am not going to let you spend your whole night at the bar.” You groan as she drags you out of your chair and to the dance floor. She holds your arms dancing trying to get you to move, at first you just let her but you soon enough gave in and began dancing with her. Your worries melted away as you swayed to the music laughing and smiling, it had been so long since you relaxed and had some fun and you were loving it. After almost an hour of dancing, you tell Rose out of breath that you were going to get a drink, she nodded and continued dancing. Smiling you make your way to the bar and you order water, not wanting to wake up with a giant hangover.

“You looked to be having fun out there.” A familiar voice says from beside you, you glance over and see Richard smiling at you while leaning against the bar. You blush a little and sit down on the stool turning to face him.

“I was having a lot of fun.” He grins and sits down also. “ I want to apologize for last night, it was just not going well for me.” He shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, everyone has those days. I hope you are having a better day.”

you look down and shake your head, you didn’t notice until now but he had a strong Scottish accent, and in your slightly intoxicated state, you were finding him even more attractive than last night.

“Is it bad if I say it is even worse, I just have alcohol this time.” You giggle and she chuckles at your answer.

“Now what could have happened to make such a beautiful girl have a bad day?” He questions, a smile plastered on your smile. It was odd but you found it very easy to talk to him even though he was a stranger.

“I quit my job, and now I have no income.” You answer, biting your lip your smile falling from your lips.

“Was quitting what needed to happen?” He questions, and you think about it. You never thought about if it was what needed to happen.

“Yeah. It did need to happen. Maybe not right away but it needed to end.” You answer with a content smile on your face.

“Then it is not so bad. You will find another job.” He grins and you nod, finding comfort in his words.

“So what do you do for a living Richard?” You ask, wanting to get the conversation off of you. He thinks about his answer for a second before actually answering you.

“I work on movies and TV shows.” You give him a surprised look.

“Like stage work?” You question and he doesn’t answer right away yet again.

“Yeah, stage work.”

“Have you met anyone famous I would know? “ You question, smiling. He found it almost shocking that you didn’t know who he was, almost every girl in London was running after him which is why he often went to the more quiet side of town, where it just so happens you live.

“Depends, what do you watch?” He questions.

“Not a lot, I usually am to busy with work to watch TV. I really like that show Parks and Rec. I find it hilarious. I mostly watch things like that, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I watched a movie without falling asleep.” You giggle and he smiles

“I think you are one of the only people I know who doesn’t watch television.” He laughs and you blush, feeling embarrassed. “But I admire that, most people are glued to their screens it is refreshing to meet someone who isn’t like that.”

“I am just glued to a different screen. I am a writer so my computer has my attention for most of the day.”

“Wow a writer, have you had anything published yet?” He questions, sounding actually interested.

“If you count shitty news articles from my old job. I am trying to write a book but it’s kinda hard to write about something you know nothing about.” You explain and he nods his head.

“I can understand that.” You smile, but your conversation became interrupted by Rose coming over to hug you.

“I thought you were going to come back!” She exclaims obviously more intoxicated than me. She looks away from me to Richard and a grin grows on her face. “Oh, I see.” You blush while Richard laughs.

“Rose this is Richard, Richard this is my friend Rose.” You introduce them and Rose’s eyes widen at the mention of his name.

“Wait, Richard? Like hot Richard who saved your life last night.” You blush crimson at her lack of a filter while Richard grins looking right at you.

“Hot Richard?” He questions, amusement in his voice. Before I can answer Rose speaks again.

“Thank you for saving her. I think you should go on a date, she never leaves the house she is always writing.” She blurts out and you wanted to crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment.

“I would actually love to take you on a date, I was going to ask later on into the conversation but now is a good time.” He chuckles, and you look at him with a smile while on the inside you were screaming because this hot guy who saved you was now asking you on a date.

“I would love that.”

“How about dinner tomorrow night?” You nod and he grins, and you write your number down on a napkin. “I will text you for your address.” You smile, a blush is still evident of your cheeks.

“Now that’s out of the way, Y/N and I have to go. I have work in the morning and I need to eat some greasy food now or my hangover is going to kill me.” She giggles, pulling me away from the chair.

“See you tomorrow Richard.” You call out.

“Have a goodnight Y/N.” You smile and leave the club with Rose, making your way to the closest fast food place. You spent the rest of your night with a smile on your face.

The next day you looked through the paper looking for jobs but had no luck. While cooking yourself some lunch you hear your phone go off in the other room. You wipe your hands quickly and run out to see an unknown number calling and realize that it must be Richard.

“Oh my god! Why is he calling?” You ask yourself looking at the phone, you shake your head and straighten your hair even though he can’t see you and you answer the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/N it is Richard.” He answers in a cheerful tone, you hear people talking in the background but don’t pay too much attention to it.

“Oh, Richard Hi! How are you?”

“Wonderful now that I am talking to you.” You blush at his words, smiling like a freak to yourself. “I was calling to see if we were still on for our date tonight?”

“Of course we are.”

“I was thinking I could pick you up at 7?” He questions and you nod then mentally slap yourself realizing that he can't see you.

“Yeah, 7 sounds great!” You roll your eyes at your nervousness. “What should I wear? Anything fancy?” You hear him chuckle into the phone.

“Wear whatever you want. You will look lovely no matter what.” You cover the phone and let out a quiet ‘OH MY GOD’ then put the phone back to your ear.

“Alright, well I will text you my address.” You smile.

“Sounds amazing. I better get back to work. I will see you tonight.”

“See you tonight!” You smile and hang up the phone. Feeling butterflies in your stomach you sit on the couch with a dumb smile plastered on your lips. Is this what it felt to have feelings for someone?

Richard’s POV

I hang up the phone with a grin and put my phone back in my jacket pocket. “Who was that?” My coworker Tom Brooke asks. I chuckle and shake my head, walking back to set in my freshly pressed suit.

“You are a horrible liar Madden. Whoever it was has you smiling like a damn idiot.” Tom laughs.

“Just a girl. I met her the other night and I invited her to dinner. No big deal.” I explain, shrugging it off like it was nothing even though inside I was so nervous and excited I felt dizzy.

“Since I have known you, you have never dated anyone that is not also in the acting business. So is she an actress?” he questions trying to pry more information from me.

“No, not an actress. But she has no idea who I am. She just believes me to be any other man, not an actor.” Tom looks at me with surprise.

“How is that even possible?” He laughs. “You are one of the most famous men in the UK at the moment.” He points out and I shrug a grin on my face.

“She doesn’t watch Television or Movies. She is perfect, she treats me like a normal human.” Tom shakes his head a smile on his face.

“You Richard, are a lucky man. But she will find out at some point.”

“Hopefully she will know me for me when that time comes.” I shrug when the director calls out for us to get into places. I make my way to my spot and think about my date tonight. I just have to let her get to know the real me, not just what the media makes me out to be.

Reader’s POV

Later that night you take a warm shower making sure to wash all of you and shave everything wanting to look good for your date. Once out you make your way to your closet in your robe and search the all of your clothing before picking out a light pink lace dress that fits you perfectly. You paired it with nude heels then sat down to do your makeup and hair. You curl your hair and do natural makeup then made your way out to the living room pacing back and forth anxious for Richard to arrive. The doorbell rings and you squeak, filled with excitement and a little bit of nervousness. You straighten yourself up and walk to the door taking a deep breath before opening it. Richard is standing there with a smile on his face, holding a bouquet of flowers, you smile widely at him.

“I brought you some flowers.” He grins handing them to you. You take them and smell them the smile plastered on your face.

“They are beautiful. Come in and I will put them in a vase.” He nods as you let him in shutting the door behind you. “Well this is my home, it isn’t much but make yourself at home.” You smile, walking into the kitchen on the hunt for a vase.

“It is beautiful.” He smiles, looking around at all your things. You blush slightly finally finding a vase and you fill it up with water putting the flowers inside.

“Thank you.” You leave the vase on the counter and make your way back over to him. “So what did you have planned for tonight?”

“Well I was thinking about dinner at my favourite place, then I had a surprise.” smiling you nod.

“Sounds amazing.” He grins and takes your hand leading you out of your flat towards his car.

Richard had taken you to a local sushi restaurant where you had gotten a table towards the back, hidden away from people. At the moment you were laughing about a story Richard was telling you about his childhood.

“I was convinced that my mother was going to murder her only child at that moment. I learned after that to never play football near the house.” He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink.

“I can’t believe you broke the window and then proceeded to break an urn.” You giggle, finding this evening very fun.

“My mum had her hands full with me as a child. I don’t know how she handled me.”

“She seems like a very respectable woman to me. And to me, it seems like she did an amazing job raising you.” You smile, and he grins nodding thinking back to the times with his mother.

“Enough about me, what about you, do you have any siblings?” You smile and nod, thinking about your little sister.

“One sister, she is 10. She is the complete opposite of me though, every time I see her she is talking about some cute boy in her class or the cute boy on the television. I am convinced she is actually boy crazy.” You giggle. “I am pretty sure when she hears about this date she will want to meet you right away.” He grins studying how your face lights up when you talk about her.

“It would be an honor to meet her, it only seems right to get her permission on dating her beautiful sister.” You blush and shake your head, he was so charming and you were not used to being talked to in such a way.

“I think she would love that.” You smile, you both finish your meals with small talk getting to know each other. Richard was so charming and you felt so happy talking to him, he was the first and only person to give you this feeling. After dinner, Richard leads you to the car and opens the door your you. Once you both were inside he starts driving and you can’t help but look over at him taking in all his features. He truly was such a handsome man, it was a wonder you never noticed him around before.

“Alright, we are here.” He grins, pulling into a parking lot. You look at the building and see a bright sign advertising Bowling and you smile looking at him.

“Bowling?”

“Psh yes bowling, you are about to lose so bad that you won’t know what to do with yourself.” He jokes and you giggle rolling your eyes.

“You wish. I am going to kick your ass.” He grins, getting out of the car walking around to open the door for you.

“Let's make a bet out of it?” He proposes and you raise an eyebrow.

“What will the bet entail?”

“Loser has to cook dinner for the winner. “ He grins and you think it over before nodding.

“Deal.” You grin walking inside the bowling ally.

After almost an hour of bowling, you make one final strike winning the game. You grin and walk back over to him, standing in front of him looking up into his eyes. “Looks like you owe me dinner.” You grin and he chuckles, looking in your eyes then down to your lips. You blush and step back slightly getting nervous.

“Well, a bet is a bet. I am going to blow your mind with my cooking skills though.” He chuckles and you smile, happy that he didn’t take offense to your distancing yourself.

“ That is for next time. I should probably get home, I have a long day of finding jobs tomorrow.” He nods, and you both leave and he drives you back to your flat. Being a true gentleman he walked you to your door and you turn to face him a smile on your face. “Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I had a great time, and I hope to see you again.” moving closer you kiss his cheek lightly pulling away to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

“I will text you.” You smile. “Goodnight Richard.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” He smiles and heads back to his car as you head inside closing the door behind you and you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. Smiling you make your way to your couch and pull out your computer and for the first time in a long time, you actually wrote.

The next few weeks flew by and you went on even more dates with Richard and declared that you were both in a serious relationship. Your week was getting even better because you were on your way to a job interview at a local magazine. While walking you noticed girls walking past and they would whisper and point towards you and you frown but continue walking. You walk past a newsstand but quickly backtrack a magazine catching your eyes.

‘Richard Madden’s New Girlfriend?’ The cover read and you grab it seeing a picture of Richard and you on the cover. You grab some cash and give it to the man at the stand and walk away to a near bench and open the magazine to read the article.

“Heartthrob and Game of Thrones actor Richard Madden seems to have found someone new. After his breakup with Ellie Bamber, he has been spotted on dates with this mystery girl. Although we have no name for her Richard seems to be very smitten with her, even seen bringing her flowers. How long until we get to know our mystery girl?” You stop reading and let out a shaky breath, completely shocked by this. On the pages, there were many pictures of you and Richard together on dates and you started to wonder why he hadn’t told you about this. Shaking this from your mind you make your way to the interview trying not to think about it.

The interview went well but once it was over you couldn’t stop thinking about Richard lying to you about his job and how he didn’t tell you that he was one of the most famous men in London. You go straight to the coffee shop and head inside seeing Rose working, she smiles at you but soon frowns seeing your expression. She tells her coworker that she would be right back then brings you to one of the back tables sitting down with you.

“What is wrong Y/N?” She questions and you put the magazine on the table sliding it towards her.

“He lied to me. He told me he worked for stage crew on movies and television not that he stared in the films.” You scoff, the one time you find someone who you like you find out they had been lying to you for weeks. Rose picks up the magazine with wide eyes reading it.

“I knew he looked familiar!” She expresses and you give her an unamused look. “Look Y/N he probably lied because he didn’t want to be treated differently. You like him so what is different?” he questions.

“I don’t want to be on the cover of magazines for all of London to see!” You exclaim. “I wouldn’t have cared if he was an actor, I don’t care but I don’t want people looking at my life under a microscope. He should have told me.” She sighs.

“Y/N talk to him.” She says. “I have to get back to work but I will call you later. But seriously call him.” She kisses you on the cheek and heads back to work and you sigh, leaving the coffee shop, going home thinking about what to say to Richard. Once home you pull ot your phone and call him, sitting on the couch.

“Goodmorning Love.” He answers in a cheery tone, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat.

“Are you busy?” you question.

“No not at all why?”

“Can you come over?” You ask he tells you he will be over in a few minutes and you hang up the phone. You take a deep breath and put down your phone. You weren’t mad, you just wanted to know his reason for not telling you.

Once Richard got there you let him in and grab the magazine handing it to him with a straight face, his face soon falls once he sees it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You question and he looks at you noticing the hurt in your eyes.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I just liked you so much and I didn’t want you to treat me different because I am famous.” He explains, setting the magazine down looking at you his blue eyes filled with regret.

“I wouldn’t have treated you different Richard. I like you for you, not because you are an actor.” You chuckle slightly finding it silly that he thinks of you like that. He steps closer and takes your hands.

“I love you.” He blurts out and your heart skips a beat and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. You smile and kiss him lightly.

“I love you too.” You whisper against his lips, and he grins kissing you deeper.

Richard had gone public about you two dating and you soon grew used to the paparazzi and even got to meet some of his friends. Today Richard had an interview with the BBC for his new show the Bodyguard and he invited you to come and watch. You were sat in the green room while Richard went out to be interviewed. While watching, you hear him get asked a question that catches your attention.

“So tell us about your girlfriend Y/N. No one seems to know anything about her.” The interviewer states and Richard got a large smile on his face.

“She is wonderful, a one of a kind girl.” He chuckles thinking about you. “I seriously think I have met the one.” He states and you blush at his words.

“So how did you two meet?”

“I saved her from getting hit by a car,” he states and you laugh thinking back to that day. “ It was late at night and I was walking and saw some strange girl walking out into the street towards something when a car came coming towards her. I pulled her back and we fell and she got so mad at me.” He chuckles

“Now why in the world was she mad at you?” The interviewer questions a smile on his face.

“I scared away the cat she was trying to catch.” He grins and the audience laughs. “I am just lucky I got her to give me a second chance.” You smile and the audience awe’s at his story.

Once dating Richard you had finally finished your book and sent it into a publisher. You did not expect much but it was worth a try. Laying in bed with Richard you had your head on his chest as you were both watching Game of Thrones. You made him watch it with you so you could see one of his shows. You hear your phone go off and you sit up grabbing it while Richard paused the show.

“Hello?” You answer. “Yes, this is her.” Richard looks at your curiously while sitting up in the bed. “Okay.” He can’t hear your conversation and all he could see is a serious look on your face. “Yes, Thank you.” You smile a little hanging up the phone.

“Who was that?” He questions trying to read the expression on your face.

“That publishing company.” You answer, and he looks at your expecting you to go on.

“And? What did they say?” You let a grin take over your face.

“They are going to publish my book!” You exclaim. He grins and brings you into a hug, kissing your head over and over.

“I knew you could do it! My girl a author, soon enough you are going to be more famous than me.” he grins, you pull away and giggle. “I am so proud of you.” You smile, kissing him.

“I can’t believe that it actually happened.” He grins and kisses you again.

Once hearing the news of your book you decided to go visit your mother and sister and Richard insisted to tag along wanting to finally meet your sister. Once there you introduce everyone and your mother and sister took an instant liking to Richard which made you very happy. You spent the night unpacking and Richard was busy answering the many questions your sister had for him.

“Y/N?” Your sister asks sticking her head into your room.

“Yeah?” You question motioning for her to enter.

“Do you love Richard?” she asks, sitting down on the bed. You smile and nod, you had never been more certain of anything more than you were that you were in love with him.

“More than anything.” She grins and nods, leaving your room without another word. You giggle and shake your head at her, wondering what she was up too. Soon Richard enters with a knock, you turn and smile at him. “Is she finally done asking you questions?” You giggle and he grins, shaking his head.

“She just wants to make sure you are happy.” He smiles, kissing you lightly.

“She can rest assured that I am.” He grins and looks you in the eyes with a look that made you curious.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face” You question and he chuckles shaking his head?

“I love you more than anything, and I can’t imagine my life without you. Which is why I was wondering if maybe you would marry me.” He smiles, getting down on one knee holding out a small diamond ring. You gasp and cover your mouth feeling tears prickle your eyes.

“Are you serious?” Your question and he chuckles nodding. “Yes! A million times yes!” You exclaim. He grins and puts the ring on your finger as you pull him up and kiss him passionately. You had never been in love until Richard, and this just felt right. He was the only one for you.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this one-shot! I spent a lot of time writing it and I really hope you all love it! XOXO

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prophetrick · 5 years ago

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This was a meme for a drabble of a muse in the future. I'm not sure why I had the inkling to do so, but you know those readerX/reader insert things? I wanted to try that, but I hadn't figured out how to go about it. That's why I called it special. Eventually, I settled on the idea of Reader having died and attached themselves to Hiro for who-knows what. I figure that a ghost should be able to see that kind of thing. Aura colors are going by White Wolf rules since I've got that as a backdrop for this trash-heap of an au. I've had this for too long in my inbox, and I did say I'd have it out out by tonight. It's rushed. Maybe I might end up doing more of these. Who knows.

-----Once upon a time, you never bothered to look up at that annoying, shiny ball up in the sky. Now, you've learned to appreciate just how invigorated you were when the sun hit your skin. Even with how ominous the sun hung over the horizon, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for the fleshbags that could catch some rays. Still, way up on this building, there was some beauty to be had with the scenery. A bit too picturesque for a base. It's torture; the pollution did manage to beat up this patch of mud, but the people below had seen to it that was within "reasonably safe levels"--whatever that was. You didn't have to worry too much. Being able to smell the sea salt, rolling around in the grass...now, all that you could do with. And you knew just the guy to help you. Enough sun-gazing for now. Time for breakfast.The advantage of being incorporeal? You could move flit around with nary a care and most people wouldn't stop you, or physics for that matter. You're off to find your "buddy" so you can bug him.---When you make your way back to the makeshift bedroom--barracks made of cots, you find people lying in cots. Clothes and blankets were neatly folded where no one occupied. You watch the flickers of strangely-colored lights that cover around them, and you hover over the people until you find your friend.The same can be said for certain members of the Future Foundation, though. The Future Foundation's members rock some similar colors to a certain extent. You have an idea of what these mean as you watch them interact with each other. The guy you're looking for, Yasuhiro, is off to the right. You can see his profile thanks to his bushy hair.Yasuhiro says that's what an aura can look like. He's quite the light show, all right, for reasons you can't quite explain. When you see him sleep, you find the texture of his aura grainy and errant in grey, powdery green, and a slight tinge of brown. As he wakes, a rose gold adds to the mishmash.You liken it to the crackling of white noise on a television, with a thin, black vein streaking from time to time. A trippy-looking television.You hear him mutter to himself and turn over in the cot. He tightly wraps up in the blanket, and you're half-convinced that he was making a show of defiance.Breakfast--rather, any meal--was not to be missed! He was the only one who let you shared his food with you, in an odd manner of speaking. You place a hands onto his shoulder, and you feel yourself sinking into him until your vision fade to darkness. Though you'd long discarded your body, the sensation of warmth envelops you. That familiar pins-and-needles sensation spreads over you, tugs at you with dull throbs. You've done this before, but you're not sure if you'll ever get used to it.>Morning.You're not sure if you'll get used to hearing your voice reverberate in a body that you weren't born with, either.O~It's that time again, is it?~OHis--no, your mouth opens with a yawn. You look at the wall clock and hear Yasuhiro's voice grumbling. He never did like waking up earlier than the alarm. Who could blame him? At least with you, he'd siphon off some morning magic that kept you perked up for the day.O~Five more minutes, okay? I'm, like, so weak in the mornings, y'know?~O You could sense him receding into the inky blackness. Each time, it was marked by more pin-prickling. You were in charge for now, at least. Left. Right. Left. Right. His movements stiffened from the uncomfortable position taken up in his cot. Stretching and twisting don't do anything to shake it off, but it does help you get more accustomed to him while you take him through his daily routine. Shower, dressing up, all that goes by quickly. You've been with Yasuhiro for a few weeks, and you can't tell if it's the rations slimming him down or the weekly training that's toned his muscles. All you know is that he's filling less of his boxers. He's got a few grey hairs sprouting at the roots, too. In times like this, that wasn't uncommon.By now, Yasuhiro's co-workers fill in. You greet them in his usual manner, a crack about conspiracy theories here, aliens there. He's given you a good script to to make up, really, so you don't draw too much attention to yourself when you flub up something he'd say. Playing the fool has perks, he'd tell you every now and then. Now you're heading to the mess hall, having been refreshed by a nice shower. You're agile, but that may be the promise of food leading you on. A chill pricks at your face. In the back of your mind, the outline of his face forms. >Oh, Now you wake up. Why do you leave me to do the dirty work?O~If you think this is dirty, you've seen nothing. Trust me. I've always had problems waking up in the morning, ever since I was a kid. You have an easier job waking up than I do. Besides, this is a good deal, don't you think? I scratch your back with living until we can help you pass over, and I get an early riser! Ain't bad, if I say so myself!~O

#ptdrabbles #ptxreader #thanks for the ask!#i'm sorry it took so long.#i can't tell if my writing is getting worse or if depression is taking a massive chunk out of me #i'm starting to think i'm degrading #Anonymous

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irondadgroupie · 6 years ago

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Bohemian Rhapsody: Chapter

A/N: Let me tell you guys, the most difficult part of this story so far, along with a chapter we are currently struggling with, was finding info about extubation. Every teaching video featured asleep patients and it was so difficult to find info about how to do the procedure while the patient is awake.

@iamwhump and I eventually managed and we’re pleased with the results.

“And we’re done,” Tony proclaimed with a smile and started unfastening the belt. “You did amazing, as always.”

Peter attempted to smile but only managed to curve one side of his mouth.

Tony gathered the breathing aid into his arms and pinched the boy’s nose with a smirk: “Teacher’s pet.”

Peter shoved out his tongue: a trick he had learned from the extubation test the doctor had performed earlier that morning. In order to take the breathing tube off, Peter had had to reach numerous values and the boy had done so with flying colors. His 02- stats were up, he could lift his head off the pillow and show his tongue on command.

Tony tried to appear strict: “Hey,” he bumped the boy’s forehead. “None of that attitude or I will leave you in that machine.”

Peter fisted his hands and glared.

“You’re so cute, when you’re angry,” Tony cooed and pinched Peter’s cheeks.

The boy would have snorted if not for the tube in his throat.

Tony took a moment to water the flowers on Peter’s bedside, Pepper had brought the boy yellow tulips, their color was like the bright autumn leaves Tony saw from the windows. He could not remember when he had last gone out.

“When you are off the ventilator, we are going on a picnic in Central Park. Sound good?”

Peter nodded eagerly.

“Of course, we need to give it some time since you need to adjust back to eating solids. Maybe just a walk?”

The boy looked a bit crest-fallen but blinked ‘yes’.

Tony took a cup of ice-chips (they really were not too bad when you got used to them) and sat down by the bed again. He took one, fingers already melting the thing and began to slide it over Peter’s lips. At first, Tony had been worried Peter would be embarrassed with such an intimate gesture but it seemed the boy was only grateful that people were looking into his basic needs.

“You know what I just realized?” The man tried to slide some water into Peter’s mouth. “You get to do-over your first word!”

Peter weakly lifted an eyebrow.

“What was your first word?” Tony wondered aloud. “Was it Mama? Mine was Mama.”

Peter tried to shrug.

“I have to ask May about it. But anyway, you have been here for a month, everybody is eagerly waiting for you to speak again.”

Peter shook his head and touched his throat.

“Yeah, your voice might be gone for a while but is important to try. We don’t care if you sound like an old man with stage 4 lung cancer- we love you either way.”

Again, Peter made a weak attempt to smile, and Tony almost melted at the sight. He could barely stand the wait to seeing the typical, broad Peter Parker smile back on the kid’s lips. “Talking about that… you’ve gotten another gift.”

‘Another’ as in ‘one other’ was more than an understatement, but he knew that Peter’s attention span wasn’t exactly long enough to focus on things for too long, and he didn’t want to make the boy feel bad for falling asleep in the middle of a gift opening.

“That one’s from Larry. That small, blond, lab guy, you remember?”

Peter seemed to consider the answer for a second, then nodded.

“Although… technically, it’s from me. And if you narrow it down it’s actually from Pep, so…” The glance in Tony’s eyes brightened when the kid rolled his eyes. No one could ever even possibly understand how much that simple movement meant to Tony, after almost a month of Peter laying limp and motionless on the bed. That’s probably why he’d let it come to that in the first place.

“We never really got to celebrate our huge progress on your formula. And – you know I wasn’t a big fan of the idea – “ Who would’ve? “But you’ve been rambling so much about it that we just couldn’t resist, so…” Tony made the reveal dramatic, currently still hiding the present from Peter’s rather limited line of vision. “This is a lucky charm, alright? Not a mascot or anything.”

Who was he kidding? Sure the stuffed yellow platypus with his white coat and the protective goggles was a goddamn mascot. It was just less embarrassing to sell it as a lucky charm since he was giving it before the extubation. As soon as the color and form were within Peter’s sensual reach, the surveillance monitor began beeping in a quicker pace, causing Tony to immediately freeze mid- motion. “You alright, kid? Does anything hurt?” The man frowned when Peter blinked a ‘no’. “I’d make a guess that this is the excitement talking.” May remarked casually, making her way back to her nephew’s bedside. “Who wouldn’t be, at the sight of a stuffed platypus five times the natural size?”

She threw Tony a glance, and he caught her words without verbally hearing them. “So much about not spoiling him, huh?”

With that said, Tony wished she’d needed a few minutes longer refreshing, so that he could’ve secretly revealed that he’d ordered a smaller one, too – and more practical at that – for Peter to actually have beside him.

May just huffed, doing her best to hold back the laughter. One media cliché was obviously true: If anything, Tony Stark was a man of big gestures. Instead of mocking him, however, she decided to help Peter explore the texture, gently supporting him by wrapping his fingers around it. “Oh my goodness.” She exclaimed. “How’s this thing so fluffy?” “Hey, if I’m already ordering individualized stuffed animals, I’m ordering the good ones.” “I see.”

There was a short pause during which both adults just enjoyed the sparkle of happiness in Peter’s eyes. “So, a lucky charm, I heard? Good that you have it, but you wouldn’t need it, sweetheart. Yours is gonna be the smoothest extubation the medics here are ever going to see.”

Water heater clicked. Tony lifted it from the platform and filled the instant noodles cup to the line and added in the sauce powder.

“You know those have little to no nutrition,” May pointed at the man with a plastic fork as she held a container of Caesar salad on her lap.

“But it’s quick to eat,” Tony shrugged and sat on the seat on Peter’s other side. The boy was resting up after getting excited about his gifts. The doctor platypus was lying on the bed beside him, the boy’s arm slightly cuddling it.

It was a such an adorable sight; Tony would have saved as his phone’s background if not for the ventilator.

Once he deemed the noodles cooked enough to eat, he began his lunch hour, eyes on the clock.

“Slow down or you’ll burn your mouth,” May chewed on a piece of chicken.

“We running late on schedule.”

“Stark, your money runs this hospital. They will wait.”

“I just want to see Peter get out of that fucking monster.”

Peter moaned something in his sleep and turned around towards his aunt. Tony froze in place, heart in his throat and May’s soft glare fixed on him.

“Shhh,” May calmed the boy down and stroked his hair. “You’re okay, sweetie.”

Peter’s fingers twitched. Tony sat down his meager lunch and lifted the stuffed animal. Maybe a bit juvenile gift for a teenage boy, but hey, the boy loved animals and anything cute. He was not going to judge.

Peter was going to need all the comfort to manage the dreaded but highly anticipated extubation.

“Here’s your little buddy,” Tony whispered gently, tickled Peter’s cheek with the platypus and tucked the toy tightly under the boy’s arm. “All good now?”

He would have sworn the boy purred.

Tony chuckled and sat down again.

“We need to figure out what to do from now,” May approached a new topic.

Tony nodded, eyes on the food, he didn’t want to spill. “Agreed. I have already called a speech therapist. I can imagine Peter is going to have a hard time controlling his voice. Plus the pain.”

“Also, then we need to think of easing him into eating again.”

“Nutritionist?”

“Yes. Also, I highly recommend a psychologist.”

“You think he might have PTSD?”

“Maybe not necessarily PTSD since Peter doesn’t remember what happened,” May frowned. “I was thinking more about the adjustment period. He missed a month of his life. That has got to be a huge issue.”

“But he is very resilient,” Tony tried to think of the positive. “But yeah, I’m more worried about the physical incapabilities. He is used to running around. I have read that prolonged hospital stays plus immobility can cause depression.”

“There is a risk of that. Also, I would like Peter sees a neuropsychologist.”

“Alright, I can make a call,” Tony nodded. “You’re the expert here, I trust your word.”

May gave a small smile. “Recovery from coma can be very strenuous on all of us. Peter- well, it can take a while until he is himself. We need to patient but strict. If we don’t give up on him, he will feel secure and commit to the process.”

Throwing the empty cup to the trash can (which was again overflowing), Tony considered the words. So far, things had worked out great but Peter only managed to stay awake for so long and even then, he was not fully there. The boy’s attention span was short and he zoned out frequently. The doctor had assured them it was not all because of the brain injury, the drugs played a big part in it.

Little steps, Tony reminded himself. They‘d see how things worked out along the way. The only thing they could do was prepare for everything.

The noodles Tony had had for lunch threatened to make a comeback as Peter was preparing to get the breathing tube out. The boy passed the final exam with flying colors and got to choose a sticker as a reward.

Peter chose one of a puppy with a soft coat.

Tony smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“That was great, kiddo, and all you had to do was show your tongue and lift your head.”

“Maybe the most important test of your life,” May smiled and stroked the boy’s knuckles with her thumb.

Tony shook his head. “You know he has SATs coming up?”

“Oh please, you can get him to any school already.”

The man grinned. “True.”

Peter tried to smile but it was lopsided, the breathing tube was in the way.

The boy was laid on his left side with nurses and two doctor’s hovering around him. Everyone was gentle and made cheery small-talk as they took note of his vitals and went through the process so Peter would know what to expect.

“We will keep you in the loop,” one of the doctor’s patted Peter’s shoulder. “You just relax and focus on breathing, let us do the hard work, alright?”

Peter tried to give a thumbs up but the attempt was miserable. Tony chuckled as he took his place behind Peter’s back. May sat in front of the boy so Peter could look at her, Tony would provide more physical love and support.

“Alright, we’ll begin now.”

Peter clutched the platypus plushie to his chest, a whimper escaping his throat.

“You’re alright,” Tony grasped the boy’s shoulder and stroked his hair. “You are so strong, so brave-”

“Just breathe, Peter,” The doctor said as he and a nurse worked on releasing the tube. It was a slow process with many steps.

“This might feel a little uncomfortable.”

Tony did not watch the process, his focus was only on Peter. He offered silent support, rubbed the boy’s arm and then placed his hand over Peter’s. He pressed the stuffed toy tighter to boy’s chest.

“Breathe, kiddo, breathe,” Tony tried to ignore the sounds coming near Peter’s mouth. What on earth were they doing, shredding the boy’s throat?

“Alright, Peter,” The doctor finally said as the only thing left was the final process. “I need you to take a deep breath and then we’ll pull the tube out. You need to exhale or cough as we take it off. You might feel nauseous but that will abate soon, I promise.”

Peter nodded and grasped May’s hand tighter.

Tony stroked the boy’s knuckles: Peter’s hand was chilled from anxiety.

“What if there are complications?” He asked and rubbed a place just beside Peter’s ear.

“Peter is what we would describe as a low risk patient,” The doctor explained. “We will put him on 100% oxygen the minute the tube is out to secure the airway and monitor him carefully for six hours.”

“He has never been taken off ventilator when awake,” Tony countered. “The only time he has been put under was when his wrist was operated.”

“Oh yes, I remember,” The doctor’s eyes twinkled. “You insisted on being in the room when they removed the breathing tube.”

Tony flushed but tried to regain his composure, even under May’s triumphant smile: “Well, it was the first time we ever put him under, I had to make sure there would be no complications.”

“You took very precise notes of his vitals-”

“Are we doing this during this century?” Tony snapped and rubbed Peter’s hand: the boy moved it so Tony’s hand laid between his own and the toy.

A nurse stepped closer.

“Here it goes, Peter,” The doctor took a hold of the tube. “Deep breath in.”

“Start thinking of your first words,” Tony whispered to the boy’s ear. Peter’s lungs expanded, he was eager to get the ordeal over with.

“And breathe out.”

Tony could not describe the sound Peter made, it was something between a long gag and a moan. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and clutched May’s hand tighter.

“A little more, sweetie.”

“Very good,” the Doctor pulled the tube out and Tony who had been waiting for words, something akin to “Thank God!” or “Hallelujah!”, cried in alarm as Peter spit out saliva and mucus.

“It’s okay,” The doctor pressed a mask on Peter’s face and Tony heard the air current that was forced through Peter’s mouth and nose. “Now just focus on breathing.”

“You’re alright, sweetie,” May rubbed Peter’s arm as a nurse moved a stethoscope over his chest. Tony could not help thinking how those muscles had deteriorated during bed rest.

“Good breath sounds on both sides.”

Tony grinned and leaned over to gaze at Peter’s hazy eyes: “You just keep being an overachiever. I’m really, really proud of you, kid. My heart’s bursting.” “Oh Peter.” May whispered, her hands moving through Peter’s curls. “You make Tony all cheesy. You make the man of steel cheesy. And me the happiest aunt on earth, believe me.”

Tony was about to return the quip, knowing that it usually cheered the kid up, but Peter’s eyes were glassy with confusion, pain and exhaustion. The man could barely imagine – and he certainly didn’t want to – how raw his throat was, or how much his lungs probably burned with the artificial support of his breathing finally gone.

A few weeks ago, when his life had still been within the ranges of ordinary, he’d never have considered allowing his feelings show, especially not with so many people in the room, waiting the ordered three minutes to check whether or not Peter’s vitals would remain stable, so they could immediately re-intubate should the need arise. Tony hoped it wouldn’t get that far, but right now, his main priority was his kid’s mental well-being.

“It’s fine. We’re all here.” He said, catching the boy’s glance, understanding the request without either of them verbalizing anything. Without any more reconsideration, Tony softly hummed the beautiful, nerdy lullaby into Peter’s ear, fingers gently caressing his cheeks.

He didn’t even need to do it for long – although he would’ve sung for a year straight if needed – Peter was in Slumberland fast as light. A part of him wondered where that deep, unquestioning admiration for the kid came from. Had it been born after the car crash, when Tony had done nothing but prayed and begged for him to wake up, not wanting to waste the second chance he’d gotten with the boy? Maybe.

But something inside him was very aware that he’d wrapped the kid in his heart way, way before that. “Sleep well, kiddo.”

The following five hours were both the best and the hardest in Tony‘s life so far. He was on edge the entire time, already fearing the worst because why would recovery be easy. But Peter, the champion he was, pulled through those hours without any respiratory issues, and not even a single serious drop in his oxygen stats. “Told you.” May remarked. “Parker’s are fighters. They’ve always been.”

There was a sad undertone in her voice, and Tony knew better than to say anything, granting the woman a rare minute of grief. Time was cut short, however, when Peter’s lids moved slightly. Tony recognized the gesture as a sign of discomfort, and quietly ordered Friday to dim the lights to a lower level, to have Peter gradually adjust to coming to. Tony felt his heart swell as soon as he realized that the sound of his voice made the kid frown, his head lolling slightly into his direction.

“Sorry, kiddo.”, he whispered, fingers gently massaging the boy’s knuckles before he lifted the small hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss on the back. “Take your time. We’re here.”

It seemed to take longer than the last couple of times, but after around four minutes, Peter finally found it in himself to prevent his eyes from squeezing shut as soon as he tried to open them. He still felt strange, with his body being mostly numb but not heavy, and the soft beeping in the background somewhere between comforting and worrying. In comparison to the haze of memories he could remember from the past couple of days though, this was great.

His eyes met his mentor’s and he forced himself to smile. There was an ‘Hey, Mr. Stark’ somewhere within him, but it didn’t dare to pass his hurting throat just yet. Mimics and gestures had to do for now.

For Tony and May, those small things were more than enough. They cherished the simple voluntary blinking, admired the finally not lopsided smile, stored the image of seeing eyes looking at them in their memory forever. None of them would ever make the mistake to take something like that for granted. God no.

From now on, every day they got to spent with Peter would be even more of a blessing than it already was. Tony might even overwrite Friday’s programming on deleting lab sessions not marked important after a year. All of those held moments too valuable to be allowed to sink into the oblivion of a limited human mind.

Peter slowly turned for May, recognizing her soft hand resting in his hair, caressing his forehead, before he stopped in mid-movement, eyes fixed on the door half a second before it opened, a slender figure walking in. It took longer than he would have liked, but Peter managed to identify him as Rhodey, and his smile got even brighter.

“Hey, Peter. Great to see you.”

The boy did his best to convey the ‘Great to see you too, Sir.’ with his eyes.

“How’s being tube free been so far?”

“Astonishing, isn’t it?” May translated, giving Peter a question he could nonverbally answer. The blinked to signal a yes before feeling something foreign on his face that turned out to be one of his aunt’s tears. His heart quickened in pace before he could prevent it, and he weakly moved his hand up to her face to wipe the streams of water away. He hated to see May cry more than literally anything in the world.

“Hush, sweetheart, it’s…” she suppressed a sob. “These are happy tears, Peter. I’m fine. Don��t worry about me.”

“Oh yes.” Rhodey backed her up, resting a hand on Peter’s left leg. “All our tears have only been happy tears. You can’t even imagine how glad we all are to see you awake again. Now you’ll hopefully be better in no time.” “Sure he will.” Tony promised, having taken time during Rhodey’s short speech to blink away the wave of tears coming over him. He didn’t want Peter to see him cry. The boy needed to be the one receiving, not giving it to others. “We’ll make sure of that.”

“Of course you will. We all will. Which reminds me… you have quite some visitors out there and they can’t wait to see you.”

#irondad #bohemian rhapsody

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reality-imagined · 7 years ago

Text

Schematics

Part I

SWU Poe x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, I think that’s it

Word Count: 3026

Hi guys! So, there are few things we got to talk about before we get into the story. First, the timeline of this is kind of up in the air. I’m not sure how much time has lapsed between TFA and TLJ, but a majority of this plot takes place during the TLJ drama.

Plot: This may be an AU? idk I’m bad at all the fanfic slang lol anyway, the basis of the relationship between Poe and Reader forms during the happenings of Episode VIII. My goal was to try and tell the story from a lovestruck Captain watching Poe being a badass from the control room. Because let’s be real, who wouldn’t fall in love with him while he was being so courageous? Also, while I am a Star Wars fan - I have the humility in me to say I don’t know everything about the SWU so, correct me if I am wrong. With that being said:

Masterlist

“BB-8, I am honored that you find me interesting enough to spend the day with but… I really need to get to work and you rolling about my feet has me a bit distracted.” You kept your voice soft as you stayed bent down in front of the droid. You really meant no harm but with walking about the command room and the base, as your job required, was a bit difficult when you were constantly bumping your shins and pinky toes against the spherical droid. “I’ll find you after dinner, yeah? I’ll show you my building plans for a new charging unit.” The droid whirred in enthusiasm before spinning around and rolling off at a quick speed.

“If only you were as close to the owner as you are with the droid.”

Sighing, you straighten up and fix your jacket before looking down at your datapad to finish the message you were writing for General Organa. “Yes, well, understanding people is harder than understanding a droid.” You bit back rather harshly, but you were sick of your friend’s, Suna, innuendos about you and the pilot. You had never had a conversation with him, besides the quick introduction when you became “aware” of his ownership of the BB unit. The conversation was short, awkward and something you never wanted to return to:

“I was certain the droid was alone, I’m glad to know he has an owner that cares for him.” You smiled, holding on to your datapad with a death grip as you glanced between the droid and the base’s most famous and trusted pilot. Of course you knew that Poe owned the BB unit, you just didn’t want to subtly hint at your adolescent crush on the pilot.

“Well I was certain that most knew he was my buddy.” You weren’t entirely sure if his response was one of offense so you kept your mouth shut and continued to examine your boots. “It’s nice to put a face to a name, BB-8 talks about you fondly and I was surprised we had never ran into each other before.” You cleared your throat, trying to hide your own offense this time, you and the pilot had attended many of the same meetings and while you felt your observations of his chiseled jawline were obvious, it’s apparent that you had gone unnoticed the entire time.

“Ah well I don’t trouble myself with uhm gossip. It was nice to meet you….” You feigned forgetfulness,

“Poe.” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Right! Well, I should get back to work.”

The frown was evident on his lips as you glanced briefly before turning and walking away, “Yeah. Yeah, you too.” Poe muttered, he spoke to the BB-8 unit quietly but you were too far away to distinguish words.

You flinched as the memory left, quickly hitting send on the message, you placed your datapad into your messenger bag. “I’m sorry, I have a lot of things to get done but I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” Suna rolled their eyes before agreeing and continued pushing their cleaning cart down the hallway.

You barely had the opportunity to regain your work-composure before your bag beeped with a message. You shook your shoulders and prepped yourself for the rest of the work day.

You didn’t have time to return to your quarters to drop off your work supplies, so stumbling into dinner with your machinery sketches, pens, and other various design tools kept your usual quiet and unnoticed entry, clanky and awkward. Finally spotting your friends, you rushed over and shoved the books and your bag under the table. “Quite an entrance there, (Y/N).” Raene smiled, helping situate your belongings under the table.

“We all wish we had your level of grace.” Suna added, smirking before taking a sip from her cup, “Have you spoken with the droid since earlier? I think you broke the poor things heart.”

“No, Suna, I have not. Why are you so interested in the droid any how? Are you jealous?” You couldn’t help the smirk the itched the corner of your lips and as she opened her mouth, to give back what would probably have been a brilliant comeback, you were out of your seat and headed to the line.

You enjoyed the company of Raena and Suna, but you were all aware that the friendship was one of convenience. Well, at least for them it was. They had their true friends back home, and their time on the base was, as they describe it, “ensuring their alliance with the Resistance.” Since the war began between the First Order and with the Resistance doing their best to keep the galaxies freedom - families, planets, and others of the sorts were pressed to help and the Resistance needed all the support they could get. Raena and Suna were both from wealthy families, if not royalty, who put their trust in the Resistance. Them being on the base only ensured their family’s standing. While their families were dedicated to the cause, they had lives elsewhere and you were determined to not make any solid connections - it hurt too much being left behind. So you knew that they would return home eventually, and wouldn’t really be leaving you behind - just moving forwards. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Returning to your table you notice a friend of Raena’s, Tiro, had joined. She would blush when asked about their personal relationship, often replying with a quiet remark of social tiers and her planet’s courting customs. But it was evident that she felt for the mechanic and so you and Suna kept your jokes to a minimum and let them go about their life.

“Tiro just said he seen the pilot shirtless today.” Suna wiggled her eyebrows.

Raena snorted, “That’s all you got from that conversation?”

Suna shrugged and finished her last bite, “I mean, what person isn’t attracted to him? He pretty much saved all our asses singlehandedly and let’s be real, my father would forget all social implications if I came home with the ‘best pilot in the Resistance!’” She emphasized Poe’s handle with gusto and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Just go (Y/N)’s route, make his droid fall in love with you first.”

A piece of bread coincidently lodged itself in your throat, “You people are ridiculous.” You stammer after dislodging the piece with a dramatic coughing fit. “Besides, Poe didn’t save us singlehandedly. Do not down play the success of others Suna, it’s rude.”

“You’re more uptight than my mother.” She deadpanned.

You laughed, “Yeah well, considering your social status, it is you who should have all the manners, not me.”

Suna and Raena both laughed, “I swear all those propriety classes were a waste on me and should’ve gone to you. Maker knows you would’ve enjoyed them.”

You smiled and shook your head. Your polite tendencies were often the butt of Suna’s jokes and while at first it was offensive, you eventually began to understand Suna’s humor and found her jokes refreshing. You knew you were a bit too high strung, but you worked directly under the General and were often at the head of many meetings. You couldn’t help but let your business manners spill into your personal time.

“As much as I like to witness you picking at (Y/N)’s manners, I have to help your dreamy pilot fix his X-wing.” Tiro quickly chimed in, cutting off Suna’s next joke. “I’ll see you tonight Raena?” He cleared his throat, trying to make it seem casual.

We all knew it was a date.

“Yes, I’ll uh, I’ll see you then.” Raena blushed. Tiro smiled widely and gave me a quick pat on the shoulder before jogging out of the mess hall.

“I need a Tiro.” Suna huffed and propped her chin dramatically on her hand. Raena let out a wolfish laugh when you agreed enthusiastically. “Looks like your Tiro has arrived.” Suna laughed out.

You sat in confusion before you heard an excited set of beeps to your side. You sent her a glare before turning towards the droid who rolled back and forth, excitement evident that he had found you. “Hello, BB-8, how has your evening been?” You smiled at the droid, facing him completely and letting your elbows rest on your knees. He gave you an in-detail description of his events from when he left you earlier to just now. “Sounds like a successful evening.” The droid asked of the plans for a charging unit before adding on his own ideas in a whir of excited beeps. You gave the droid a sympathetic smile, you felt guilty having forgot about your promise to the droid, food had been your priority once the General had released you from your duties. “I didn’t have time to grab them before I came here, but if you would like to stop by later I’ll be happy to show them to you.” BB-8 noted something about a promise to be with Poe later but that he would see what the night held. You often wish your friends were as sophisticated and endearing as the droid was.

You could hear Suna joke about you bringing the droid to your room as if it were a man and before you could spin around and snap, BB-8 mentioned that you should find politer friends before wheeling away. You couldn’t help but cackle as you watched him leave the hall. “What? What did that droid say about me?”

“You’re a ray of sunshine.” You smiled before gathering your trash and belongings.

“I’ll show that droid a ray of sunshine!” Suna shouted her empty threat as you left, Raena shushing her probably in fear of the droid’s owner finding out.

BB-8 did stop by as promised, however you had changed out of your work-appropriate clothes and into sleep clothes. You had finished a last minute work entry when your heard an odd thud at the door. You opened the door and smiled dearly at the droid before noticing the pair of boots set behind the BB unit. You quickly looked up as a blush began to spread from your cheeks down to your chest.

Poe cleared his throat awkwardly, “I was a bit concerned when BB-8 said he was rushing off to see you,” he cleared his throat again, “I figured it was an inappropriate time and that he would be uh disturbing you, but he insisted.”

You laughed nervously, maybe Suna was right. Was it inappropriate to invite the droid to your quarters? Surely not? “I uh I invited him. I promised to show him some schematics of a new charging station at dinner, and well uh forgot them. I’m sorry, I should’ve considered your input.”

Poe looked a bit baffled and BB-8 kept spinning his head sphere to look from Poe to you. Before Poe could say anything you quickly added, “I’ll show them to you first thing in the morning okay?” You bent down to speak to the droid on his level as you usually did. Trying to ignore Poe’s laser sharp stare that held curiosity and something that you wasn’t quite sure of. “Meet me in the control room once you’ve cleared things with Poe.” The BB unit only looked to it’s owner and you took this as a time to shut the door, but where jolted as Poe stopped the door with his hand.

“I uhm, uh I mean we’re already here. Right BB-8? Would be a waste if we just left.”

You looked at Poe dumbly while BB-8 whirred with excitement. “Yes, sure, yeah come in.” You quickly said, your mind still full of confusion as you opened the door for the droid and its owner to come inside.

You were granted your own personal quarters when the General promoted you to team lead, and since a lot of your work often happened outside of the command center. Your walls were taped up with blue and white schematics with the occasional personal sketch of your home planet’s monuments, while your desk was nothing but a cluster of papers and different types of cups with various pens and pencils. The rest of your room was otherwise clean, per base regulations. Only your work space showed the evidence of your chaotically organized mind and idea process.

“Let me just, let me find them.” You sat down on your seat quickly and had to awkwardly stop yourself from flying across the room with the force you placed in your seating. Your chaotic mess was organized to a degree and any other time you would’ve immediately found the plans but your mind was going 90 to nothing and you could practically feel Poe’s eyes observing you. “Found them!” You announced after rummaging what felt like forever. “Sorry, you can sit?” You lamely pointed at your bed and Poe followed your advice, resting his hands on his knees.

You scooted your chair awkwardly towards the droid and smoothed the diagram out unto the floor. You tried to explain the plans to the droid in your normal meeting style, but suddenly your pajama shorts felt entirely too short and your sweatshirt not big and frumpy enough. The droid beeped with a question, which you could tell was to try to get you back on track. You cleared your throat and regained your composure before finishing your explanation. BB-8 whirred with excitement once you had successfully explained your intended alterations, noting that he was sure the other droids were going to be excited as well. The BB unit also hinted that it had been a while since any of them were issued updates.

“I’ll see what I can do. But no promises.” You patted the BB unit gently before tucking your plans back into the mess. “Anything else I can do for you lads?” You had managed to grab a hold of your nerves and were finally able to look Poe in the eyes. While your exterior appeared calm and collected, your inner thoughts were nothing short of full blown panic.

“Why don’t I see you often?” Poe spoke suddenly, “I mean, it seems BB-8 gets to spend time with you and knows you fairly well. But I never see you around base. Why is that?”

Because I’m avoiding you. “I seldom stay in one place.” You smile and shrug.

“I don’t mean to sound rude but, what is your job exactly?” You noticed his slight flinch at how harsh his question was, no matter the apology beforehand.

You chuckle while pulling at the end of your sweatshirt sleeves, you had never been able to describe your job precisely. “I don’t really have just one job. I do a lot of personal work and errands for the General to ensure she stays organized, I guess you could say a personal assistant. But I also work on keeping the Bases main system running, which I am team lead for. I also design schematics for new machines and systems when they’re needed. That’s the original reason I was recruited.” You decided to cut your story short, figuring the pilot could care less as to why you were on the base. He looked at you for a moment before realizing it was his turn to talk.

“Could you design new plans for X-wings?” He seemed interested in your work, which surprised you.

“I haven’t really studied up on their designs or functional requirements, but I’m sure if I spent some time with it, I could design you something?” Your blush had returned and you were almost positive that you were the color of a tomato. “Or at least give it a good try.” You added, anxiety knocking on your brain, reminding you that you were no way good enough to design the best pilot in the Resistance a new X-Wing.

Poe perked up, talking about his job obviously gave him much pride, “The other pilots and I have been playing with the idea of updates.” You nodded, your mind starting to mentally place reading X-Wing manuals into your schedule. You’d do just about anything to get the pilot to smile at you like that again. “With the war and First Order getting back on their feet we need to start thinking about advancements.” And suddenly with talk of the war that was constantly over everyone’s head, the mood shifted to solemn in the room. Speaking about the topic raised anxiety in everyone, there’s an inevitable level of uncertainty when it came to war and it terrified everyone on the base to their bones.

“Yes. I understand. I’ll start working on it right away Commander Dameron.” You spoke quietly, suddenly loosing your confidence upon realizing just how insignificant you were in this war. This man fought the front line, while you set back at the base running errands, sending messages, and doodling.

“Woah, no need to get all formal.” Poe chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just call me Poe.” There was that smile again, “And don’t feel obligated, I’m sure the General wouldn’t be too fond of her right hand spending time with a pilot talking about starfighters and s-foils.”

“Right. Well I definitely need to read up a bit. Or a lot.” You laugh lightly, Poe following with realization that you had no idea what he was speaking about.

Suddenly, BB-8 gave a whir, reminding the both of you of the late nature of the hour and how all of you had duties to attend to in the morning. If only you were as articulate as the droid, you thought. Poe straightened as did you, neither of you had remembered or even acknowledge the fact that BB-8 as was there. While short, you both had become lost in the conversation.

“I’ll see you later then, (Y/N).” Poe gave the most dashing smile before walking out your door, BB-8 ahead of him. All you could muster was an awkward hand wave and unintelligible reply. That pilot had you wrapped around his finger and rendered your utterly useless, which made him dangerous on so many levels. But worst of all, he left you wanting more.

A/N: So that’s the beginning. I have about 8,000+ words written, but before I post or even finish - I just wanted to see what you guys think. So, let me know! :)

#star wars fic #poe dameron fic #poe fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe x reader #poe dameron x reader #star wars fanfiction

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221bshrlocked · 7 years ago

Text

“Don’t Look”

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 1555

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Bucky shows you how much he appreciates all your help.

A/N: This is a friend to lover sort of drabble. Congrats @marvelous-fvcks on the 3K!! Your fics make me happy :) Let me know if you want to be tagged HERE or HERE.

“Just stall her for the day man is it too much to ask?” Bucky yelled at Steve, wanting him to keep you outside your room until he finished with it.

“Buck you didn’t even ask her permission. What if she doesn’t like it when people go in there? She’ll have your head if she knew what you’re doing.” He tried to reason with Bucky and kick him out of your room, only for him to get hit with a paintbrush.

“Steve I swear t- if you don’t fuckin keep her out, I’ll have your head.” When he noticed Steve getting annoyed, he put down everything and walked to him.

“Pal please..help me out. I’m just tryna show her my appreciation.”

“BY STICKING POSTERS AROUND HER ROOM.” He spoke louder than intended, causing Bucky to slap his mouth with his hand and shut the door behind them.

“If you don’t help me out, I’ll tell Sharon about the pictures.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Steve’s face flushed, warning Bucky with a stern look

“Try me buddy. Get the fuck out I needa finish this.” He threw Steve out and looked back at your room. “This is gonna take a while.” He sighed, grabbing the brush and getting to work.

Steve luckily didn’t need to worry about you for half of the day. You trained with Nat in the morning and went ‘shopping’ with Bruce in the afternoon. Being the only other person on the team that had a biomedical engineering degree, you charmed your way through buying some tools that were technically not supposed to be sold yet.

“I’m sorry Y/N. Having to act just to get this.” You smiled at his comment, helping him carry things out of the van.

“Anytime Doctor. I mean I had a blast to be honest. They don’t even know what the hell they’re selling. I almost broke you know, when that idiot started explaining ‘this works like a PET scan except it’s three dimensional,’ god I think I lost a few IQ points from just standing there and smiling.” You laughed all the way to the lab.

“Well, I’ll see you later Bruce.”

“Go get some rest.”

“Will do.” You motioned with your arm, walking away and stretching. “Damn I need a shower.”

The elevator opened to your floor. Walking out, you bumped into Steve, saying a quick hello before walking to your room. Only a few steps away, Steve realized what he was supposed to be doing and sprinted to your door, blocking you from entering.

“Uhhh can I help you?” Your eyes were barely staying open when you yawned.

“Yes yes actually I do need your help..ummm there’s this thing..you forgot I told you to help me today?” He was having a hard time coming up with a lie when you gave him the look.

“Steve..you said nothing. Please I just wanna shower and sleep-” You tried to open the door but he stood in front of you again.

“NO WAIT…”

“Fucking hell Rogers what the hell is your problem??” You yelled back at him, surprised that he was actually scared for a moment.

“I..listen Sharon’s birthday is coming up soon and I don’t know what to get her. Help me out?” He gave you a puppy look, hoping you’d listen to him.

“It’s not for another 2 weeks. We can do this when I wake up.” You tried to push past him again when he stopped you.

“Rogers I swear to god if you don’t fucking move now I will punch your perfect white teeth and not even feel sorry about it.” You warned him again, making him sigh and frown, stepping away from your doorway.

Standing there for a few seconds, you cursed yourself before taking his hand and walking away to the living room.

“Alright...what’s the matter? Another nightmare?” You sat him down and calmed down for his sake.

“It’s just...it’s been hard lately you know. I..Bucky’s been getting better and better and I just feel like something bad is gonna happen because everything is going so well.”

“Listen Steve...nothing is going to happen bud. We’re all here, there is a truce, Tony and everyone else got their shit together so we’re good. Is there something between you and Sharon you don’t wanna tell me about?”

“Oh no no she’s..we’re great. More than great actually.”

“Alright well, I’m always here if you wanna talk. Sorry I yelled back there.” You pointed to the hallway and laughed a little.

“Sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass.”

“Hey language.” You laughed when he rolled his eyes at you.

“Come’ere.” You stood up and gave him a hug, amazed at how much bigger he was. Pulling away, you kissed his cheek before attempting to walk away when someone walked past you and decked him.

“JAMES WHAT THE FUCK? Omygod Steve are you ok?” You ran to him, checking to see if he was bleeding anywhere, sighing in relief when you saw he was ok.

“I TOLD You To Keep HER OCCUPIED NOT FLIRT WITH HER!!!” He pointed with his hand and attempted to get past you when you pushed him away.

“ALRIGHT EVERYONE CALM DOWN.” You looked at both of them, giving Bucky the death stare before telling Steve to go away. Exiting the room, you turned around and didn’t even have to say anything to make him look at the floor.

“What is everyone’s problem today? First Steve now you. What the hell? And why did you tell him to keep me busy?” When he said nothing, you stepped in his space and stared right at him.

“Buck..answer me.” He avoided your gaze, not saying anything.

“Alright you know what forget it. You’re all kids clearly.” Walking away from him, you went to your room and were about to turn the handle when Bucky ran and tried to stop you.

“NO DON’T LOOK!” He yelled but it was too late.

You walked in and stopped breathing, your eyes taking in your room.

To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.

There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.

My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.

Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

Plastered on all the walls were your favorite Jane Austen quotes, written in a warm yellow color that lit in the dark. Your eyes read more and more of them, not getting enough of the color lighting all over the room

But what really took your breath away was when you looked at your ceiling; a large painting of the galaxy took all the space, the colors as vibrant as ever and popping out.

Looking back at Bucky, you saw him sheepishly standing there, scratching his head and looking like a schoolboy who was caught red handed with his hand up a girl’s skirt.

“Buck...d-did you do all this?” You pointed around you, waiting for him to say anything.

“Uhmm..ya doll. I did.” He gave you a shy smile, setting his stuff down and standing in front of you.

“Why?” You didn’t know what else to ask.

He stood there and said nothing for a few minutes. Finally looking up at you, he grabbed your hand and kissed it, his answer barely audible.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.” Your heart raced at the sound of those words leaving his lips.

And you knew at that moment, that he meant the world to you. You started crying without noticing, making him freak out and grab your cheek.

“Wait no no no no I’m..doll don’t cry I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me. How much I appreciate all your help since I came back from Wakanda. You’ve dealt with so much of my shit...been there through all the nightmares, the fights, the anger, and not once did you walk away from me. Never gave up on me. And I don’t deserve any of it darlin. I don’t deserve you. But you make me a better man. You make me want to be a better man.” He was talking really quickly and tripping over the words, making your heart clench at how genuine he was.

Stepping closer to him, you stood on your tiptoes, taking his lips in yours before pulling away and hugging him.

“That’s my answer Buck.”

“Oh thank god.” He held you in his arms, over the moon that you didn’t reject him.

Pulling away, you gave him a look that made him step away.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Go apologize to Steve now because he made a fool out of himself trying to help you out.”

“But he was-”

“I was first to hug. Go. NOW.” He sprinted out of your room in a second, making you giggle and look around you.

“God he’s such a romantic.” You fell on your bed and looked up, amazed at how the day went.

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan fluff #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #marvelous-fvcks #amarvelousfvckingwritingchallenge

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dreamscript · 7 years ago

Text

the normalcy of thieves: 1

As a con artist, Jungkook can never stay put. He also can’t help but feel giddy when he receives a call asking for help with orchestrating a large-scale con against some of London’s top executives.

Four people. One city.

As if he needed any more reason to leave.

while this is no longer a collaboration between me & @inktae , I still want to extend my gratitude to mari for helping lots with this fic and encouraging me to write it.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 (soon)

6.8k words, con artist au, jungkook/reader

// Madrid, Spain. June 28th.

The man inspects the flat screen TV with the utmost scrutiny, his beady eyes tracing over the jet black frame, following the edges of the sleek screen. Jungkook can almost feel him salivating. “How much did you say it was?” the man asks.

“205 euros,” Jungkook replies. “For a lightly used, completely functional, Samsung HDTV. And it’s one of the newer ones, too.” He shifts the TV slightly to the side. “Look: it’s got the incredibly thin design, and if you look up the model online, you’ll see that it’s got almost unparalleled black levels and clarity of sound.” He gives the thing a light pat. “So?” Jungkook looks at the man expectantly and smiles in the most business-like fashion that he can manage.

The man doesn’t match Jungkook’s smile and instead chooses to frown. “So why’s the shit so cheap, then?” He crosses his arms and tries to pin down Jungkook with a look.

Jungkook simply grins even wider. “Did you forget? All of the goods in this truck, they’re all so cheap because--” he pauses for dramatic effect, leaning over the truck counter, “--they’re stolen.” He straightens back up. Smirks.

The man seems to recall why he’s here and takes a moment to mull over Jungkook’s offer. One, two, three. Four seconds pass. Jungkook’s never had an issue with patience, but right now he’d very much like to get this exchange done and over with.

“Alright,” the man says finally, sighing. “I’ll take it.”

Jungkook beams. “Alright, I’ll have my buddy here package the TV for you, and he’ll give it to you around back,” he says. He gestures to Jin, who’d been standing in the back of the truck during the entire exchange, and was now just making to haul the TV off to the side. “Your total is 205 euros exactly, no tax.”

“Take cash?”

“Oh come on, you know that’s not how we do business here in the underground. Bitcoin or bust, ya hear?” Jungkook lets his smile falter a bit and slides his Bitcoin info over to the man. “Can’t have the bank teller giving me funny looks or street dwellers trying to rob me.”

The man makes a gruff sound and then pulls out his phone. “Fuckin’ hell. Fine, take your damn Bitcoins. Miss the old days when cash was king.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, checking his new balance. “Don’t we all. Pickpocketing was way more fun back then, I’ll tell you. You could at least make a game outta that stuff, see who could snatch the most cash. Nowadays you just grab a debit or a phone and that’s it. I swear, some people make it too easy.”

“I didn’t ask for your fuckin’ life story, thiefboy.”

Jungkook merely chuckles and holds his hands up in surrender.

After pocketing his phone, the man goes around back to watch Jin shoving the TV haphazardly into a large cardboard box with bubble wrap and foam.

“Careful with that, ladyboy!”

Jin looks up briefly, nods, and then returns to packaging the TV, this time a bit more slowly. By the time he finally finishes shoving the whole thing into the box, Jungkook has come out from the dealer truck. Together, all three of them--Jungkook, Jin, and the buyer--help heave the box into the man’s unmarked car, grunting and panting.

“Thank you for your business, sir,” Jungkook says, wiping his hands down his dusty slacks. The man gives him a tight smile and slams his car door shut. The engine comes to life. He zooms down the street.

Once he’s completely disappeared from sight, Jungkook immediately bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach. “That--that--he just--oh god,” he says, unable to contain the giggles.

Jin, on the other hand, looks still unsure. “Um, so, are you sure about this? I’m actually really surprised that he didn’t notice.”

“What, that it was an oven door?” Jungkook’s hysterical laughs reach new levels. “People can be stupid at times. But also we’re good. I really gotta commend you on that extra little flair you did at the bottom--oh, and the matte black paint you used for the screen. That shit looked super real once you’d finished.”

“Thanks,” Jin says, sounding pleased. Also kinda worried. “Um, but, when he finds out, won’t he like, call the authorities or something?”

Jungkook manages to stop laughing, turning to look at Jin with a knowing glint in his eye. “And that--” he says, ambling over to the curb. He slumps down heavily on it. “--is the true beauty of it all.”

“Uh?” Jin eyes him warily. He’s still standing, with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Can you grab me a coke or something?” Jungkook says, briefly deviating from the conversation.

“Um, sure,” Jin says. He disappears for a moment and comes back with two coke bottles. He hands one to Jungkook before sitting down next to him. “So what is the true beauty? This whole thing is flying way over my head.”

“The true beauty,” Jungkook says, “is that if he ever tried to report us, he--well, he couldn’t, because then he’d get himself in some deep shit too. ‘Cause we--I--told him that the ‘TV’ aka the oven door was stolen. And like, sure, he didn’t actually get what he was paying for but he still showed that he was willing to pay the money for it. He’d have to first admit to the police he had intent to purchase stolen goods. Which is, obviously, illegal.” He snaps open the coke and takes a swig. It fizzes on his tongue delightfully.

“I--I see. But how can you be so sure that him and whatever gang he may be affiliated with won’t come back to hunt your head?”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, turning to look at Jin with a glint in his eye. “I’d like to see them try. People back at home don’t call me Cheshire for nothin’, you know. One moment I’m there, the next I’m gone. Poof.”

Jin shakes his head. “Man, you con artists--crazy, all of you.”

“Says you,” Jungkook retorts. “You’re the guy who likes to manipulate others’ emotions to get what you want. You’re basically a con artist yourself.”

Jin wrinkles his nose. “Well, what I’m doing isn’t exactly illegal. Most of the times, at least. It’s not my fault that people like the way I look that much. On the other hand, what you’re doing is, and like, almost always is illegal.”

“Yeah, yeah, legal, illegal, whatever,” Jungkook says, waving his hand in the air. “You talk like either of us actually have regard for the law.”

Jin laughs. “Alright, so you got me there. But shit, man, the lives that you guys lead are kind of weird. And all the different locations?” He frowns. “Dunno--it just seems to strike me the most.”

“What’s wrong with Madrid?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Madrid, don’t get me wrong. It’s nice and all, but Amsterdam? So much better. I’m used to it. I know the city, I’ve lived there for a while, it’s practically synonymous to ‘home.’ Like, sure, I’ll spend a few more days in Madrid, but by the end of the week you can bet that I’m on the first train back.”

“Really? Are you telling me that you plan to stay in Amsterdam?”

Jin levels a look at him. “Yeah. Not everyone’s like you, in a different city every week. Or month, or however often you change. Last time I heard from you, you were spending the evening in some penthouse over in Monaco, and now you’re working the alleys in Madrid. There aren’t a lot of people who would enjoy moving around and not settling down in one stable place for more than a few months.”

“Whatever.” Jungkook shrugs. Jin’s no fun, as always. “In any case, how was it today?”

Jin purses his lips.

Jungkook goads him on, if only for his own entertainment. “Come on, it’s got to feel nice--hell, maybe even a bit refreshing, god forbid--to be doing something else for a change.”

Jin sighs and takes a sip of his coke. “It’s all fine and dandy, but I’m not that much about all those high risks. One day of this con artist life’s enough for me.”

“Once again--”

“You know what I mean,” Jin says.

Jungkook chuckles and knocks him playfully on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.” He finishes off the coke and tosses it in a nearby trash can, gets up off the curb with a sigh.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go inside and recount my balances. Phone’s still charging ‘cause the battery is a piece of shit.”

Jin gives a hum of acknowledgement and nothing more as Jungkook unlocks the back doors and climbs inside. He reaches over to where his cracked iPhone 5s lies on the counter with the battered charging cable still stuck through it. Without even needing to really look at his Bitcoin balance, he knows the amount isn’t as much as he’d like or really be comfortable working with and he frowns. These days, he’s making a lot less through the white van speaker scams in Madrid than what he was doing before in Paris and Monaco.

It’s expected, yes, but still the disparity is a bit unsettling.

And yet on the other hand, no matter how good the money, he can't seem to stay in one place for too long, feeling it absolutely nerve wracking to be doing the same job for any longer than he wanted to. So he was out of France in no less than two months; hours of grueling train rides with no definite destination in mind later, he found himself in Spain.

It’s been two weeks since his arrival and already Jungkook can conclude that Madrid isn't quite as bad as some of the other cities he’s been to; it easily tops many of his other destinations. The city is fairly well kept--or as well kept as any major city can be. The public transportation’s cheap. The premieres are quite stunning, though he has yet to actually get inside one.

The backstreet locals he’s encountered so far aren't bad either. Already, he’s managed to con a few--with relative ease, to boot--into buying some dirt-cheap speakers for inflated prices. And, of course--he flicks a finger down his screen, grinning--he can’t forget the “flat screen TV” he just sold to his customer.

A breeze gusts by. Jungkook leans slightly forward and sucks in a breath of city air.

// London, the United Kingdom, Great Britain. July 17th.

There’s a knock on the door. Although it’s muffled, he can clearly hear someone calling out his name.

Jimin snaps out of his daydream and spins around, tearing his gaze away from the London skyline. “Yeah? Come in.”

The door slides open smoothly and his secretary gives him a tight smile, meeting his eyes with her stony, professional gaze. “You have a meeting.”

“Oh--right, yes, sorry. Taehyung, was it? From Sight Security Group?” He gives a sheepish smile and runs a hand through his hair.

“That’s correct. Shall I bring him in or do you require more time?”

Jimin looks over his desk, checking all the files that have been laid on it. What was Taehyung here to discuss again? Was it about the--oh, no it was about a possible merger of some sorts. He chuckles inwardly to himself; there’s a 90% chance the deal would be a no-go for him. He’s got what he needs. “You can tell him I’m ready.” He gives his secretary a smile and she nods. The door clicks shut behind her.

Not a minute later, Taehyung is stepping through his office door, smiling brightly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Park,” he says, extending a hand out to him. When he’s close enough, Jimin rises from his desk to give him a firm handshake.

“Likewise,” he replies.

// Berlin, Germany. September 3rd.

“Should I stop here?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Jungkook carefully steers onto the side of the road--a not so legal move, but he’s never cared that much for the law anyway--and checks the meter. “That’ll be twenty euros exactly.”

The man hands him the money and Jungkook hesitates, a brief moment of debate over whether he should exchange the bills or not.

“You gonna take it or not?” Maybe not. He’s made enough money off of his earlier patrons, and conning more than three a day can get a bit risky.

“Yeah, sorry.” Jungkook takes the bills and carefully counts them out. “Alright, have a great day.”

The man grunts out a brief thanks, you too before slamming the cab door shut. Jungkook sighs and contemplates his next course of action: he could either continue working, or he could just call it a day and head back home. The car behind him beeps, prompting him to roll his eyes and pull away from the no-parking zone, out back into the road. The stoplight turns red before he can even consider speeding through it. He frowns.

Maybe he could just go home...

Suddenly, his phone rings, loud and annoying. Jungkook checks the number; it shows up as “Unknown.” How perfect. He takes the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Jeon,” the caller says. The voice sounds gruff through the receiver, but it’s the familiarity of it that has Jungkook relaxing back into his seat, a grin on his face. There’s a stream of cackling static that Jungkook assumes to be a breathy chuckle. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Yeah?” The light turns green, finally. Jungkook speeds ahead. He drives straight past a pair of women with their hands up in the air, trying to flag him down.

The caller sighs. “It’s pretty complicated, but knowing you--I’ll try to get straight to the point. Okay, look. I’ve been trying to get this man’s money for the past month or so for various reasons--some are personal, so don’t ask--but this guy’s too damn cautious. He plays way too safe. It’s a wonder that he’s made it this far.”

“So I take it that you require my assistance?” At the intersection ahead, some reckless driver attempts a daring turn. Almost immediately, car horns beep, creating a raucous cacophony that has Jungkook pressing his lips together in disdain. “Is this going to be another one of your grand heists? Because as successful as the last one was, I nearly got--”

“No, no,” the man says, quick to cut him off. “Trust me, I’ve considered doing a heist against this guy, but I may as well march right over to his office and tell him that I’m going to steal all of his money.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook considers continuing down the street for another block, but at the last moment makes a left turn. More honking. Annoyed, Jungkook lets go of the wheel for a brief second just to stick his middle finger in the air. “Alright, so then, what are you proposing, hm?”

“I want you to orchestrate a con. We’ll split the money, of course. But before I ask if you’re in and give you all the details, I’ll just let you know that it’s going to have to be a pretty damn elaborate and well thought out con, if we want to get the amount of money I’ve been hoping for.”

“And what would be that amount?”

“Roughly 100 million pounds, give or take.”

Jungkook lets out a low whistle as he rounds another corner, coming out to yet another intersection, just less crowded. “Not bad. And pounds? You’re in London again, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? Some cities just hold more charm than others. Anyways, so are you in or not?”

“100 million pounds,” Jungkook muses. Outside, the sun is setting, and the city is bathed in a beautiful tint of vibrant orange. Money isn’t much of an issue for him; in fact, he’s got plenty of it. But 100 million pounds? He smiles. “I’ll take it. Fill me in.”

He also supposes a change of location wouldn’t be so bad. Berlin has entertained him long enough.

// London, the United Kingdom, Great Britain. September 6th.

The cool London air flutters through your papers--still warm and fresh off the press--as you hastily shove them into a folder. You tuck the folder into your bag haphazardly with one hand, trying to get all your shit together with your phone clutched tightly in one hand.

“So I’ve run and done all the reports you wanted me to do. That’s all, right?” Static cackles in cadence to the heavy breaths of the other end.

“Yeah,” you say. “Like the background checks, revenue...that stuff.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, so anyways, tell me about the new team,” you say. “Who’s the project leader?” You zip your bag shut, slinging it comfortably over your shoulder.

There’s a hesitant intake of breath. More static. “Well, about the project leader…”

“Well?” You purse your lips together.

“Uh…”

The hesitation in the speaker’s voice is all you need to confirm your worst fears. Well, not your worst fears, actually. Just--confirmation.

“I have this bad feeling that we’re thinking of the same person right now,” you say, slowly.

“And I have this feeling that we are. It isn’t bad though. I mean, come on, why are you saying it’s a bad feeling? Aren’t you guys--”

“Are you serious right now though?” you hiss into your phone. “Of all people, you chose him as the project leader? Also, when did this happen? Because I was just talking to him last night and he didn’t tell me anyth--shit.” You narrowly dodge a lamplight. Oops. “And he didn’t tell me anything,” you finish.

The other end launches into a barrage of excuses, and you roll your eyes. “Okay, fine, yeah,” you finally snap. “Just--listen. I’m going to need those plans for our newest line of security cameras before lunchtime tomorrow so I can review them; make sure you actually include the notes on the program infrastructure this time, too. Oh--and don’t forget to get me that new book on the analysis of government surveillance over the years--what was it called again? Yeah--the one by Bernstein--yeah, yeah, that one. Actually, no, nevermind, I’ll just get it myself. Alright. But don’t forget to tell him to hit the stacks if he’s going to work with us. I can’t have him even partially uninformed; I need a capable team who isn’t going to cause any--no, are you even serious right now? I’m not going to do it, you’re the one who brought him onboard in the first place, so he’s your problem now. It’s okay, he’ll probably figure out a lot of things by himself.”

The other end makes a petulant groaning noise, but they give in. “Okay, fine. If that’s all, then, I’ll be going now. Got a lot to do.”

“Alright, yeah, that’s all,” you say. “Bye.”

“See you.”

You hang up and open up the calendar on your phone, scroll through the day’s plans. Alright: so number one is to print out the latest company reports--check--then finalize the newest project’s team--check--and next up is to grab food. You smile. Sweet. The best part of any day.

// Berlin, Germany. September 3rd.

“A taxi driver? Why in the hell would you want to pose as a taxi driver in October? You do realize that it’s practically low season throughout most of Europe, right?”

His caller has taken the liberty to start up small talk and attempt to catch up on all the lost months of no contact. Impossible, really, since way too much has happened to both of them, but it’s an honorable attempt and Jungkook rises to meet it.

“I am well aware of that, yes.” Jungkook’s decided to take a leisurely stroll down the city streets of Berlin, abandoning his stolen and refurbished cab on the curb. Normally he’d park it somewhere relatively safe, but his interest in continuing to be a cab driver has been waning. He couldn’t care less if he came back the next day to see the car gone. He inhales, deep. The crisp outside air is almost luxurious after spending hours in the stuffy cab, breathing in the air of strangers.

“So why? I still don’t get it, Jeon, especially if you’re doing what I think you’re doing over there--you’re doing that bill exchange trick aren’t you?” There’s an almost accusatory tone in the speaker’s voice, and it makes Jungkook chuckle softly. After all, what else could he be expected that he do? Actually lead a perfectly honest life as a taxi driver?

“And if I am doing this trick that you speak of?” There’s a teasing lilt in Jungkook’s response.

“It doesn’t make any bloody sense, is what I’m trying to say. Because think about it: the more tourists there are, the more likely you’ll come across ones with large bills that you can snag off of them, and the whole rush and bustle of the city makes it easy for you to slip away. But on your hand--”

“Trust me, I know about all the advantages of tourist season. I’ve already done this thing back when I was in Stockholm--wait, did I never tell you about it?” He passes by a man who hobbles along the street, a small, slightly overweight dog at his side. It bares its teeth at Jungkook and lets out a high-pitched bark. And then another one. Jungkook looks at it with a hint of disdain. The owner hushes it and drags it onwards.

“No--hell no. Stockholm? That’s--far, from where you usually are, I mean.”

“Yeah, well, all I have to say that it was getting a bit hot in Madrid for me.” Jungkook studies how the sky quickly changes color as the sun sinks ever lower into the horizon.

“Wait--Madrid to Stockholm? That’s like--”

“--an incredibly long train ride that is enough to put your ass to sleep. Yes. Now shut up and listen, will you?” Jungkook sighs and grins when the other end laughs.

“Alright, alright.”

“So as I said before, I posed as a taxi driver during Stockholm’s tourist season, and yes, I made some really good money overall. Tourists, you know, slamming themselves into my cab, jabbering in mostly English, shoving their kronor at me--that stuff. But so one day I have this tourist who, as it turns out, just came straight from the bank with five fresh 1000-krona banknotes. A real mark, lemme tell you.”

“No other change?”

“No other change,” Jungkook confirms. The thought of it has him grinning all over again from ear to ear.

“Geez. Guy like that’s just asking to get marked up and down by cons.”

“Yeah, I know--and unfortunately for the mark, I had been carrying a crap ton of counterfeit 1000-krona banknotes for a while; so I get to his destination, he says ‘thanks,’ and hands me his first bill. I nimbly exchange it, tell him it’s fake, he gives me that look, you know, but what can he say? Not much. So he takes the fake bill back, hands me another. I exchange it. He gives me a more suspicious look this time, but it’s okay--I brought along the counterfeit bill detector. Show it to him, and sure as it is, the bill’s fake.”

“So are you telling me that you did this for every single bill that he gave to you?” There’s a tone of half-disbelief, half-amusement in the guy’s voice.

“Hell yeah. I made five thousand kronor just off that one guy, in one day--so that’s roughly 600 US dollars, or 660,000 won, or 460 British pounds, whatever.” It’s practically dusk. Streetlamps flicker on, one by one.

“Nice,” the caller commends. “Lucky as hell, as always. But that still brings me to my other point--so why in the sodding hell would you not do it during tourist season?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yourself yet, having known me this long. But whatever,” Jungkook says. He can hear the man grumbling something about big headed pricks and lack of communication on the other end. He chuckles. “It’s because things got too easy. And when they do, I like to take a break, get away--and then try it again with a challenge. Makes things more interesting. And in this case, I wanted to see just how slick I could get with this cabbie scam.”

“So I take it that it’s actually going pretty well for you?”

“Ah, well,” Jungkook says. He pulls out his wallet and thumbs it through. “Not nearly as much money as I could be making right now, but so far so good. Relative to my expectations, of course. In any case, your call actually came at a good time--I was thinking of making a move--to Warsaw, or somewhere. Start anew, yeah?”

“Hell yeah. Can’t imagine you staying in one place for very long, anyway. Anyhow, you back at your place yet? I just finished developing all of the files and papers and crap that we’ll have to discuss, and I’d really like to get onto them.”

Jungkook chuckles and pulls out his set of keys as he ambles down the streets. He spots his crappy 4-story, concrete-covered apartment building just at the end of the block, the ground floor completely covered in obscure graffiti. “Patience. But yeah, I’m walking into the building. I’ll call you back when I get inside? My phone’s almost drained of battery.”

“Yeah sure, whatever.”

// London, the United Kingdom, Great Britain. September 20th.

Park Jimin pushes aside the white blackout curtains in his 3-story London penthouse. There’s a gloomy darkness outside, a world with a sun that has yet to rise. He examines the view before him: the Thames river--which even in the dim lighting Jimin can tell is its typical brownish color--making gentle waves in the morning breeze, concrete-and-brick buildings stooping close to the waterline, the endless city skyline stretching towards infinity, accented by the outcrop that he knows is St. Paul’s Cathedral. Jimin sighs and drops his hand from the window.

His attention turns to his room, which extends outwards to encompass the majority of the top floor of his penthouse. It’s big, yes, but it’s almost too big. He frowns. It feels much too big for just one person. The loneliness and returning to a quiet, empty, dark apartment every night seems to have finally caught up to him. Jimin hums a song that doesn’t quite exist. Maybe he’ll have to invest in a dog, some sort of pet. That’d be nice. Actually, he’s not sure if pets are allowed in the complex, so he’ll have to check later. Jimin stops humming and turns away from the window.

He’s spent enough time musing; it’s high time that he get dressed and ready for the work day.

// Berlin, Germany. September 3rd.

“Alright, so could you repeat those names again? I need to write them down.” Jungkook quickly reaches over and pulls out a few sheets of scrap paper.

“All the info’s in the document that I’m sending you via the encrypted stream, but alright.” The caller exhales loudly in mock annoyance. “So first up there’s the CEO: last name Park, first name Jimin.”

“And he’s the CEO of the--that--what did you say it was again?”

“G5S PLC,” the other side answers simply. “PLC meaning public limited company. Huge huge security group over here.”

“Sounds serious,” Jungkook says. “Alright, next?”

“So the next one is kind of different in that he’s not the CEO of the company, but rather he’s just a rep. Apparently the actual CEO’s out of the country.”

“An interesting twist,” Jungkook comments. “So who is the rep?”

“Guy whose last name is Kim and first name is Taehyung.”

“Okay.” Jungkook jots down the name and occupation “And the last one?”

“Last name_______, first name _______.”

“And she is?” Jungkook writes down your name and waits for further explanation.

“Owner and CEO of a small tech startup that’s making big advances in her field. Her company specializes in security and shit--just check the document if you want more detail. All of it’s in there.”

“Okay, so is that it?” Jungkook reviews the list of names. He hums. “You’re dealing with a bunch of security people, I see.”

“Well, I mean, isn’t London one of the most heavily surveilled cities in the world? It’s pretty notorious for all the CCTV’s and shit they got over here. Makes it easy to catch criminals for sure. It also means there are tons of security companies making it big, too.”

“Certainly, yeah.” Jungkook stretches and yawns. “Alright, if that’s all, I’ll just go ahead and check the document myself. I’ll call later when I’ve got things figured out.”

“Okay, see you later. Thanks for taking the offer.”

“No problem.”

// Berlin, Germany. September 5th.

As per usual, Namjoon’s the one answering the call; of the two heads of the whole Kim & Min Identity Security Consulting Group--or whatever the hell they decided to name their spoof company--he’s the people person.

Well, no, actually, neither Namjoon nor Yoongi like to directly deal with people, but Namjoon just tends to be better at handling others than Yoongi--by a long shot. Last time Jungkook tried to have a business conversation with Yoongi--over the phone, mind you--it hardly managed to last more than twenty seconds before completely blowing over in a cloud of snappy remarks and a mumbled phrase about not getting enough sleep. And the thing is, Jungkook wasn’t even trying to be a total prick in the ass. For once.

Now he just sort of--is.

“Alright, so you’re requesting the whole identity grafting package, with a mailed birth certificate and government ID?”

“Yeah, that’s correct. Possibly a government email address, too. I can engineer the cellphone number myself though. Oh, and an apartment. I can work with you guys on that.”

“Okay.” There’s a brief pause. “So do you have any specific name you’d want to go by?” Jungkook can almost imagine Namjoon sitting on the other end at his desk, pen poised neatly above his signature yellow memo pad.

“I don’t know--something really generic. Can’t have people searching me up all that easily--as great as your identity grafting abilities are, Namjoon, I’d much rather avoid the whole hassle of making sure all the sources check out.”

“No--it’s perfectly understandable. Saves me time too. Alright, we’ll create the new identity for you and have all the basic necessities mailed by--” there’s some static and Jungkook guesses that Namjoon’s probably leaning over to see his calendar--wherever that is--buried behind the mess of his workplace. Namjoon’s never been known for keeping things tidy, and Yoongi’s never been known to clean up after others. So the filth just keeps on piling on itself. “--does a week’s time work for you? Any earlier and we’ll have to charge you lots extra, and maybe there’ll be an additional fee from Yoongi. He’s been super irritable because he’s had to do a lot of database infiltrating, and you know he gets--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook quickly interjects. He reaches back and stretches out his limbs. “No--a week’s time is good.”

“Okay, and as for the apartment, uh--Yoongi?” Namjoon’s voice fades into the background but it’s still loud enough. “How fast do you think you can secure an apartment?”

“An apartment?” Yoongi’s voice finds its way through the receiver. For once, he actually sounds fully awake.

“Yeah, in downtown London.”

“London? Fucking shit, man, place is crowded as hell,” Yoongi grumbles. “It’s going to take a damn long time.”

“So is there an estimate?”

“Well, who’s this apartment for?”

“Jeon Jungkook, you know, the guy--”

“Oh, I know him.” Jungkook raises an eyebrow and smiles at Yoongi’s tone.

“Oh,” Namjoon says. “So uh?”

There’s a brief pause. “I’ll say two months,” Yoongi says, finally. “Give me two months, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Alright.” Namjoon’s voice is louder now. “Did you get that, Jeon? Two months, apparently. We’ll charge you the bill for the apartment separately, of course.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says easily. “That’s fine. I can work with two months--if anything, I can stay in temporary shelter for the first few days--” Jungkook’s phone beeps and he pulls it away from his ear to inspect it; he has another call coming. “Namjoon, I’ll send you the mailing address later, I gotta go.”

“Wh--” Namjoon doesn’t even get to say a word before Jungkook hangs up and takes the call.

“Hey.”

// London, the United Kingdom, Great Britain. November 2nd.

“Oh, wow, sorry, my tone came out a bit too harsh. I just didn’t have a great start to the day. Nothing serious. Anyways, yes, what is it?” Taehyung laughs awkwardly into the phone. Maybe he shouldn’t answer the phone when he’s irritated and it’s the early morning and when that one damn stranger spilled his coffee on him. His emotions tend to slip out and affect his tone.

“Don’t worry about it,” the other end assures him. “I was wondering--would you mind representing the company in an upcoming meeting for me? I’m sorry, ever since I moved over here, I’ve been having you do all the--”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Taehyung says, a bit hastily. “I don’t mind at all. It makes sense, honestly, since I’m the one here and everything.”

“Alright, thank you.” The other side takes a deep breath. “So apparently there was a letter that was sent out, and the details were then copied over to me; I can send them over to you, unless you want to view the letter yourself. It should be over there.”

“Alright,” Taehyung says. “I’ll take a look at it. Who is the host of the meeting, if I may ask?”

“Uh,” the other end goes silent for a moment, probably double checking the details. “He goes by Kevin Jeon.”

// Berlin, Germany. September 20th.

Jungkook grips the summary and transaction papers with so much force he wrinkles the edges and crumples the sides. They aren’t necessary, anyway, just for glancing back over for the sake of memories and keeping track of payments. Shit that he could care less about right now.

“Jeon, seriously? Jeon? You’re using my actual last name? And it’s not like, even that common,” Jungkook hisses into the phone. “You could’ve at least changed it to, oh, I don’t know, Kim, or Park, or Lee. Or maybe you could’ve deviated from my Korean ethnicity, and put something like Chen or Ngyuen. Or something. But nope, you--”

“Relax, dude,” Namjoon says, clearly unfazed by Jungkook’s angry outburst. “That was the only name that was available in our databases. Plus, Kevin Jeon is common enough. Well, actually, kinda uncommon in relative terms, but it’s fine, it’s fine. Trust me. If anything, did you know that--”

“Yes, I know, but I don’t care about how stupid that idiot was to--”

“You just care about whether or not you’ll get caught, et cetera, et cetera, I get it. And I can fully assure you that you’re fine. Have we ever caused you any reason to doubt our services?” At this point, Namjoon is just going to continue spouting the same phrases over and over again, so Jungkook decides to drop the point and just suck it up.

“Yeah, okay, fine, whatever.” His tone still betrays the anger that bubbles just below the surface.

// London, the United Kingdom, Great Britain. November 2nd.

You adjust the phone against your cheek, relaxing just slightly when you hear the receiver click.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you greet back. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy, you know,” he says. “Same old shit.”

Your lips quirk into a smile. “Oh?”

“Yeah. So how did you spend your weekend?”

“Oh, not all that much.” You reply “I just went to visit a friend in Manchester.”

“Oh really? Wow, so I take it that you went over there right after that international ah, conference in Budapest?”

You nod in affirmation but then realize he can’t see you. “Yeah, I had to squeeze it in my schedule somehow. In any case, it was really nice to finally get to see her again; we both lead fairly busy lives so getting to spend time together, you know...that stuff doesn’t happen often.”

“I see,” he says. The way he says the words with a bit of wistfulness; he’s probably caught onto what you’d been hinting. About him. And you. “What does she do for a living? Does she run her own startup like you?” And now, he’s back to only light heartedly joking.

“Oh--no. She works at the BBC headquarters there.” You wonder what his hair looks like now, how he’s doing. You wonder if he’s craving the Cadbury chocolates he used to eat all the time last time he was in London.

“BBC? Wow, that must be great.” He laughs softly. “Anyways, I was just wondering if--”

“________,” a clerk cuts in, coming over to you. You frown and purse your lips, but quickly put your call on hold; the clerk never really interrupts you while you’re busy unless he’s got good reason to. You watch as he hands you a cream-colored envelope. “For you.”

// Berlin, Germany. November 2nd.

Someone comes up on the intercom system in the train station and explains in German about some delays, or whatever the hell is going on.

Wait--Jungkook moves the phone away from his ear so he can catch the speaker--the person’s talking about his train. His train, from Berlin to London, is going to be delayed for another fifteen minutes. Figures. Jungkook checks his watch: it’s 7:31, and the train is supposed to be here in five minutes. He goes back to the call.

“--ou there? Hello?” Namjoon sounds mildly concerned.

“Yeah, sorry. Just found out my train got delayed. Anyways, what were you saying?”

“Nothing much really,” Namjoon says. “I just wanted to know why you wanted to get the documents mailed out so early, when you aren’t even in the place yet. Like, wouldn’t you have to hit the ground running the moment you arrive?”

“Well, I’ve had plenty of time to prepare and plan the con ahead of time.”

“You sure you got everyone? Who’s your shill? Who’s the roper?” Namjoon asks, sounding almost like a concerned parent. In the background, Jungkook can catch snatches of Yoongi’s raspy voice cursing the lights out of something.

“Shill this, roper that. Like hell I’d forget to have a shill or roper, especially for a con as elaborate as this. What, you think I’d walk in there without a distraction or someone to bag it all in? Nah, your boy is pre-pared.”

“Yeah, but still, you should at least rest and get settled in before you begin--”

“Rest? I can get plenty of that on the train ride there. But if I really had to tell you why it seems so...rushed, it’s honestly because--” Jungkook sucks in a breath and grins. “--I can’t wait. That’s pretty much, honestly. Oh, and also the fact that if I dwindle on the thing too long, I’ll never stop making minor tweaks to the plan until I’ve practically completely changed it. So there it is.”

“Okay well,” Namjoon says sounding almost reluctant, indecisive, “have fun while you’re there I guess. Let me know how it goes.”

// London, the United Kingdom, Great Britain. November 2nd.

Jungkook steps out of the train station in a crisp suit. His Rolex reflects the streetlights as he reaches to run a hand through his hair.

“Do you need a cab?” He turns and gives a polite smile to the station worker.

“That’d be wonderful, thank you.” English rolls off of his tongue and it feels almost nostalgic; he hasn’t used the language extensively in a while and although he’s still slightly rusty, his pronunciation is impeccable. The man nods and goes to hail a cab for him. As he waits, Jungkook takes the time to brush off invisible dust from his clothes and fix his tie.

Finally, the cab arrives and he steps in, setting his briefcase on his lap. He’ll have to go shopping for more clothes and other necessities, but those are issues for another time.

“Where to?”

Jungkook gives the driver the name of his hotel--a temporary residency until Namjoon and Yoongi can briefly secure an apartment downtown for him--and leans back into his seat. He looks out the window, watching cars and lights and people pass by.

London, at long last. He grins. Tomorrow--he can’t wait for it to come. Tomorrow, he would really, truly begin.

a/n: for the record, the oven door TV scam was an actual thing. or at least according to wikipedia. LOL

i know it’s been a while, but thank you & thank you to everyone who was interested :) <3

#networkbangtan #btswriters #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #jungkook #bts #the normalcy of theives #writing #con artist au #action

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ecotone99 · 6 years ago

Text

[MF] Gone Songs #02 The Rainmakers

Marco holds on to the small, velvet box; hesitating before passing it over. "You won't drop it?" he asks.

"Look, just because I showed up late-"

"-for my wedding-"

"-for your wedding-"

"-and you're my best man-"

"-Gah! Such pressure!" I fumble with the cummerbund, turning it until it was centered over my belly. Or at least close enough. "It wasn't my fault. My mom hasn't set the clocks forward for daylight savings time yet-"

"-which should have been done weeks ago-" Marco tugs my cummerbund to it's just right position.

"-yeah, you know how she is. Anyway, I'm here now." I hold out my hand, palm down. "Look. Steady as a rock."

Marco moves to give me the ring. I make the hand shake wildly.

"Oops," I fling it behind my back. "Try this one," I offer my other hand, palm up.

Marco sighs. He places the box in my hand.

"Let's go."

***

Luckily, we make it to the church in time and I am able to stand next to my best friend as he marries his High School sweetheart. No, really, she is still in High School. Seventeen years old. Marco, the man himself, only nineteen.

Too young, some would say. Most would say. But they don't know Marco like I do. The earth will turn, the sun will rise, God will rule in heaven, and Marco will be married to this one woman - girl, now, but woman soon enough - for the rest of their long, fruitful lives.

Such certainty. It is more than I deserve, being counted among those to witness the event. And I surely don't deserve the honor of standing at the groom's right hand, holding the ring. Well, I suppose that's another advantage of having grown up in a small Kansas town. No competition. I didn't have to be that good to be a best man.

***

After the ceremony, chaos. Pictures are wanted, names are shouted out; flashbulbs and laughter, hugs and handshakes. During a lull, I'm called to the parking-lot for a consultation.

"What do you think?" Don asks. He and a crew of helpers stand next to the honeymoon car - a workhorse wood-paneled station wagon; 'Just Married' soaped on the rear window and a dozen empty soda cans tied to the bumper.

"Great," I say. "Fine." Then, as I get closer and look in the window, I see a scattering of popcorn over the front seat.

"What's that?"

"That's a prank. You know, fill the car up with popcorn so...."

"Funny," I agree, "But don't you think there should be more? That's, like, not a lot of popcorn." In truth, the front seat doesn't look any worse than having taken a sharp turn with a bag of old movie theater 'corn riding shotgun.

Don shrugs.

I get money from my wallet and tell him, "Go to Wal-Mart. They sell those big bags of the stuff for cheap. You know what I'm talking about? Looks like garbage bags? Sometimes cheesy flavored; or caramel? Get as many as you can."

Don grabs some friends and they hurry away. Robert, one of Marco's younger brothers, stands by my side. "That's going to be messy," he says.

I laugh. "Yeah."

"Shouldn't you stop that sort of thing?"

"What?"

"You're the best man. Shouldn't you stop them from doing that?"

I look at Robert for a moment. "I don't know," is my honest answer.

***

The reception. I'm introduced to one of the bridesmaids - a pretty redhead named Anne, and we dance. We dance goofy in a group. We dance slow together. We talk about the bride and groom. We talk about ourselves. She's studying management at K-State. I've moved south, to attend the University of Houston where the temperature is more apropos for a young man ready to set the world on fire.

During a break, I leave her with friends to fetch refreshments. Since everybody in the wedding party is underage, drink choices are Sprite and Coke.

Sprite or Coke....

While making the decision, I hear a voice behind me say, "Decline and fall."

I turn. Christine Kohler stands there, dressed to the nines, smile beaming, blonde hair done fancy in a way I'd never seen on her before.

"Fall down baby!" I say, finishing the lyrics of a song that had somehow become our special salutation. I grab her in a hug.

We laugh. We hold each other at arm's length. "Look at you," I say. Chrisy Kohler, my High School running buddy, almost unrecognizable now with that blown-out hair and wearing an honest-to-goodness dress. Never a petite girl, the freshman fifteen strains the silky yellow fabric in nice places, as well as around her middle. The dress' neck line is much, much lower than her usual wardrobe of sweatshirts and Ts.

"A lot more of me, right?"

"Fornicate that. You look great."

"You clean up pretty good yourself."

"Where have you been? I didn't see you during the ceremony, or the dance."

"No surprise. You looked like you were going to pass out from the pressure of having to stand still for an hour. Anyway, I was in the back, with the cool kids."

I lean in. She smells of cigarettes. Chrisy smirks. "And we cool kids tend to hang out in the parking-lot during these John Barleycorn Must Die Baptists shin-digs. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know how it is."

"Besides." Chrisy hip-checks me hard enough that I have to steady myself against the drink table. "You're doing alright without me." She motions across the room towards Anne who is huddled with a group of girls, all of them eyeballing me while smiling and giggling into their hands.

"Can you pop the collar of a tuxedo?" I ask, giving it a try. "I feel as if I should pop my collar."

Chirsy makes the judgment call. "Perfect! Looks absolutely stupid."

I become Elvis. "Uh hunka hunka," I mumble, pelvis suddenly on a swivel, index fingers pointing nowhere in particular.

Chrisy goes upside my head. "Fool." Then, with her hand still on my back, she moves in front of me; face to face. Close. Intimate. I'm tall; we're almost eye-to-eye. A big girl. She places her other hand behind my neck and, with a caress, fixes the collar.

"You haven't changed," she says. Her pretty face, inches from mine, tilts slightly. "And in a way that's very sad." She smiles ruefully.

"Now." She steps back and slaps my tux into shape. "Get over there before Red realizes what a big mistake she's making."

I make a derisive noise. "She can wait. I'm not done talking with you."

"Yes you are." Chrisy grabs a two liter bottle from the table. "Besides, I'm due back at the parking-lot. There's some very important rum waiting for coke.... Er. I mean, there's some very important people waiting for me." She backs away, doing the Queen of England hand-wave.

"Hey," I call out. "Don't leave without saying goodbye."

Then she's gone.

***

The popcorn thing is a disaster. Never quick to anger, Marco has always been more of the slow-burn type, so I can see his temperature rise by degrees as he circles the station wagon. Through the car's windows, nothing but popcorn. Crammed to the roof. Marco opens the passenger's side causing an avalanche of the greasy stuff. Gloria, his young bride, moves to avoid having it cover her shoes. Water fills her eyes, threatening to spill over.

The gathered crowd laughs and hoots, maybe a little nervous because just popcorn might have been a good gag; but this greasy, buttery Wal-Mart gunk is well over the line. Nevertheless, we can't let the night end on a bad note so we move into action. Girls swarm Gloria, cooing comfort, while us boys start shoveling. We get enough of it off the seats, but the residue is something else entirely. Marco's worried about his rented tuxedo and Gloria's dress. I rather suspect you could toast a marshmallow over his head by now.

There are blankets in the trunk of my car. We use them to cover the seats. Marco's grumbling about irreparable damage, but it’s been a long day. Time to go.

We have a moment alone, away from the crowd. I congratulate him. Shake his hand. This is my best friend. We've gone to school together for twelve years. Since kindergarten, actually. I can't remember a time when we didn't know and like each other. Soccer leagues, camping; building things, tearing things down. Bad movies and video games. Cars and girls. Between Marco and I, all the mysteries of the universe have been discussed and settled. And we aren't even twenty years old.

I let go his hand. I'll never be part of another friendship like this one.

We make no plans. He's off to start a life. I'm gone to Texas. We'll see each other again, maybe.

I say goodbye to the best part of my childhood one more time. Maybe the last time.

And he's a little pissed. And I'm more than a little guilty.

***

I still have a few days before leaving town, so I get redhead Anne's number and we make a date for tomorrow night. She gives me a quick hug then rushes away to catch up with friends. Heh. Pop that collar, son.

Brooms and trash cans are found. I help clean the offensive popcorn off the ground. Some night birds squawk, but we're doing them a favor. Eating that stuff will kill you!

The party has ended. The reception hall is closing. I'm jawing with stragglers in the lobby, all of us unwilling to call it quits. Management has to chase us out.

Magical nights like this don't happen often, so it feels odd just leaving when it's over.

But a surprise waits for me in the parking-lot. Chrisy has parked her El Camino next to my K-Car and is sitting on the lowered gate, smoking a cigarette with a plastic cup in hand, a black leather jacket draped over her shoulders against the chill.

I laugh at the sight. She motions for me to sit next to her. "What?" she asks.

"You look so dangerous. Like the women momma warned me about." I perch myself on the gate, bumping her butt with mine as I settle.

"Watch it." She holds her cup high to prevent it from spilling.

There are a number of brown grocery bags behind us. I rummage through them and grab the first bottle I find. Triple Sec. Disgusting. Almost undrinkable unless mixed with something. Almost.

"Do you mind?" I take a cup and prepare to pour.

Chrisy arches an eyebrow. She blows smoke out the corner of her mouth.

I freeze. Waiting for approval. "Well?"

"You don't drink," she says.

"Lies!" I roar. "Slander and lies!"

She shrugs. I pour. I offer my cup for a toast. Slowly, reluctantly, she taps it with her own. "To Marco and Gloria," I say. Then gulp huge.

Chrisy sips.

When my breath returns, I ask, "What's the matter?"

After a moment, she repeats, "You don't drink, Virgil. I've never seen you drink."

"To be fair, Chrisy, there are many things you've never seen me do."

"Yeah. Thank God for that. But Virgil? You don't drink."

True to a point. I didn't drink in High School. And, because Chrisy knows me so well, she knows why. I come from a long line of alcoholics. Functional, but drunks nonetheless. Indeed, alcoholism broke up my family's home. I'm sure at some point in our long and cherished friendship I had told Chrisy that I would never drink because I didn't want to wind up like that. Broken.

However, moving away to college taught me a lot of new and interesting things about being broken. I had assumed booze was a wrecking ball, but it's not. It's a needle. And if used properly it can stitch you back together. Or close enough.

"Skip it," I say. "Talk to me. Hey, you still see Jeff? What's going on with him?"

"No." Chrisy shakes her head. "Nope. You talk to me. What happened? You used to be so.... Jesus Christ about drinking."

"Actually, Jesus drank like a fish-"

"-Virgil-"

"-Wine, but you had to back then. Water was full of dinosaur piss-"

"-I'm serious, Virg. What happened?"

I look away. Then I laugh. "What the hell, Chrisy? Who are you...? I mean, you're not exactly the temperance union sitting there."

"Here," she hands me her cup. "Drink."

"What?"

She glares. I obey. It's coke. Just coke.

"So?" I ask. "You're slowing down. That's just smart drinking, taking a break every once and awhile."

"No, Virgil, it's been coke all night. I stopped drinking years ago. I just pretend because.... Because I want to fit in. That never bothered you, though. You always stood your ground. I remember how they used to pressure you then make fun of you at parties when you wouldn't drink. How you always turned it around, made them look stupid. I admired you for that."

"Chrisy...,"

"Now look at you. Straight Triple Sec? Oh, Virgil. What the hell happened?"

**\*

What happened? I met a girl. She broke my heart. Now I drink. You want it expanded? Her name was Shubra, born in Indian, and about the most exotic, beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And before you say it, yes, I guess I did have to go to a foreign country to get laid.

Okay. I'm going to stop doing that. Joking, always joking. Neither of us deserve it.

It wasn't just looks, she had an enormous personality. She was fearless. And smart. Effortlessly smart. She aced every class without ever cracking a book.

But she was damaged. Abused. She could be reckless, borderline suicidal.

I thought I could save her. With love.

Oh, right. I said I would stop joking. Mea culpa.

She was my first, and I, hers. Later I would have good reason to examine everything she said for a lie, but not that. Never that. It was obvious.

I asked her to married me. She smiled for an answer.

Once, before I left campus to spend a holiday with my brother in Louisiana, she told me she was pregnant. Again, I proposed marriage. I didn't even get a smile that time.

When I returned, she claimed to have had an abortion. I asked no details, none were forthcoming.

Things got worse between us, then better, then worse; and so forth.

During one of the bad times, she came to my room. She stripped without saying a word. She started in on me and I reciprocated. I could tell it was wrong, her head was wrong. She was angry, cold, insistent. She was so wrong, but still I tried to make it right. God help me, I tried harder to make it right at that moment than I've ever tried to do anything else in my life. More, I know, than I ever will.

When it was over, she quit the bed and dressed with her back towards me. She might have left as she entered - smoldering and silent. But she didn't. She turned said something she shouldn't have.

I flew at her. I grabbed her. I pinned her to the bed. Ridiculous in my nakedness, I straddled her and forced her down with hands full of murder.

And the look on her face.... The scornful, dead-eyed look on her face....

It's a picture you can't forget. The best you can do is to keep washing it with alcohol until it fades.

***

"I grew up," I answer Chrisy, reaching for a refill.

She waits until I've poured and drank then says, "That's it?"

We lock eyes. "Pretty much."

Time passes. I look away first.

"I guess you have changed," Chrisy says, pushing herself off the gate. "And it is sad."

"Where are you going?"

"Home. It's late."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

"Chrisy, come on. This?" I upturn my cup, splattering booze all over the pavement. "It's no big deal."

"I know. I'm just tired. Can you please get off so I can close the gate?

I oblige, closing it for her. "Well, I'm still in town a few days. Did you want...?"

"No. I can't. I'm leaving tomorrow." She checks her watch. "Today."

"Okay." I step aside so she can get in the driver's seat. Before she closes the door, I say, "So... Bye?"

"Yeah. Bye."

The door shuts. The ignition fires. She hooks an elbow over the seat to reverse out of the parking spot. Once the grill is pointed towards home, she gives me one last look.

"Hey!" I say, loud enough to be heard over the engine and through the closed window. "Decline and fall!"

She drives away, shaking her head.

End

Blame this on anonymity, plausible deniability, and the void that degrades quality. Which is a shame because The Rainmakers deserve better. Well. It had to be done. No other band comes close to having the same impact or being as important to me as The Rainmakers. They were the soundtrack to the best years of my life. So many memories associated with their songs.... Tch. My drama teacher told me she'd 'hung out with' (implication: dated) one of the band members at KU. "The drummer," she'd said, "Pat, I think." and I couldn't keep my puppy eyes off her after that. Picture me laying on my belly on the school's stage, ankles crossed, chin resting in entwined fingers; "Tell me more about him, Ms. Scovill. He smelled nice, right?" And if Rich Ruth ever sees me coming, he'd better turn the other way because I played bass guitar in a college band and I'll become Annie Wilkes on him so fast. There's no telling what I'd sledgehammer just to get him reminiscing about Doo Dad. (I thought a Rich Ruth solo album might be a good idea, then I heard Dogleg off Monster Movie and I now know it to be a necessity).

Anyway. They deserve better than this pitiful little story, but I had to get it out there and it's the best I can do. The remaining Gone Songs won't be so contemplative.

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