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starlitangels · 3 years ago

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You Picked Right

Pups AU! The Shaw kiddos are back as lil teeny tiny kidlets! Not sure if this was technically a request but I treated the ask as one. About a former crazy ex of Davey’s meeting his family. And I didn’t want to take away anyone’s interpretation on Davey’s sexuality from them so... gender neutral crazy ex! 1.7k words

—

David leaned against the archway that spilled the stairs out into the basement, a small smile on his face. His angel was dancing with their two children. Natalie was on his mate’s hip, held close to their torso with their arms. The two-year-old toddler was belly laughing with all the bouncing. Gabriel was “dancing” on his own. Meaning, the three-and-a-half little boy was spinning in circles with a big goofy grin on his face.

“Shake your groove thing—shake your groove thing yeah-yeah! Show ‘em how we do it now!” his mate sang along with the song playing from one of the smart speakers. They bobbed side-to-side, which only served to make Natalie laugh harder. David’s smile widened a small fraction when their wedding ring caught the light and reflected right into his eyes. Mine. My mate. Our children. My family, he thought. He couldn’t imagine being happier.

Gabriel giggled and flopped over on the basement sofa, declaring, “Dizzyyyyy!” through his giggles.

David’s mate chuckled in amusement as Gabriel covered his eyes—as vibrant green as David’s own—and wiggled on the sofa cushions like a particularly energetic worm.

God, what would I do without you three? David thought. What did I ever do before you?

From his position furthest from the speaker, and closest to the stairs, David was the only one who heard the doorbell ring upstairs. He glanced over his shoulder, debating on whether or not to go answer it. If it was a pack member they would have let him know they were coming—most likely. Unless it was an emergency.

The thought of an emergency led him to reluctantly leaving the entertaining scene of his mate and their children behind to climb the stairs and go to the front door.

Sometimes he regretted the lack of little windows on either side of the front door so he couldn’t see who was standing there. Today was one of those days. He didn’t like not knowing what to expect. He loved their house—and God knew they needed the upsize from their old house after Natalie was born—but he didn’t like the unknown.

Cautiously, he opened the door.

His mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh. Uh... Taylor. What... what are you doing here? How... how did you find this place?”

Taylor was a former partner of David’s. His last before he met his mate. Their relationship had ended by going down in flames and it had been over seven years since he’d seen them. Though it could have been closer to nine years... David couldn’t remember exactly at the moment.

Taylor shrugged. “Just the grapevine,” they said. Somewhat evasively. Which David didn’t trust at all. David didn’t imagine Taylor had changed much since the two of them broke up. He figured their obsessive tendencies hadn’t gone anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” David repeated.

“I miss you. I know we haven’t been together for a long time, and I know our breakup was my fault. But I’ve missed you every day since we broke up. David, if you give me another chance—I promise I’m not the same as I used to be. I’ve done a lot of growing up and I still want you and—”

At that moment, Natalie emerged from where she’d been crawling up the stairs and bolted at David, slamming into the back of his leg and wrapping her arms around it. “Daddy! Dats wi’ me!” she squealed with a big smile. She still struggled to pronounce dance, so she said it as dats. David, barely taking his gaze off of Taylor, bent and picked her up, settling her gently on his hip.

Taylor blinked, looking surprised. “Who... who’s this?” they asked.

David wrapped a hand protectively over Natalie’s back, making sure it was the hand with his wedding ring on it, in Taylor’s full view. “This is my daughter,” he said.

That was the moment Gabriel caught up to his sister. “Daaad! Natty ran awa—” He reached up and clung to the hem of David’s shirt. “Who’s that, Dad?” Gabriel was staring, wide-eyed, at Taylor. And Taylor was looking down at Gabriel. At the green eyes that were undeniably David’s.

Taylor met David’s gaze again. “You... you have children.”

“Mmhmm,” David grunted, adjusting his grip on Natalie so she was only held up by one arm so he could put a hand on the back of Gabriel’s head, holding his son against his leg. “Kids, this is Taylor. An old friend.” His kids were too young to understand the concept of an ex, and David didn’t miss the way Taylor’s eyes flashed when he said friend.

Gabriel waved politely, still ducked more timidly behind David’s leg. “Hi,” he said softly. Taylor surprised David a bit by waving back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Taylor asked David.

David’s eyes narrowed slightly but he managed not to scoff. “Because we haven’t spoken in seven years, at least,” he replied shortly, tightening his grip on both children. Natalie squirmed—then met Taylor’s eyes and ducked to hide her face in David’s shoulder.

“What’s going on? I look around and suddenly everyone has left me alone, dancing by myself,” David’s mate exclaimed, cresting the top of the stairs. They approached the front door and scooped Gabriel up from behind David’s leg, setting him on their hip. They leaned over and kissed David’s cheek. “Hi there,” they added to Taylor.

—

The stranger at the door’s eyes widened slightly. “And you are?” they asked, voice tight. I scrunched my eyes slightly as Davey shifted his weight so he was slightly blocking me from the visitor’s view. Protective, to the end.

“This is my mate,” he said to the visitor. He glanced at me. “Angel, this is Taylor.”

Ah. I’d heard David’s stories about Taylor. His obsessive ex. Ash referred the tales as “horror stories” and liked to give his version of things—while Davey rolled his eyes because Ash’s version tended to paint David as an idiot. Probably for entertainment value. Ash certainly didn’t have to try too hard to get me and his mate to laugh when he told them.

I held Gabriel tighter against my side with one arm and held a hand out to shake Taylor’s trying to be polite. “Nice to meet you.” I’d set Gabriel on my right hip, so I extended my left hand.

Taylor shook it tentatively, eyeing my wedding ring.

I could practically see them turning green. That little envy monster rearing its head inside.

“Were you just stopping by to say hello?” I asked, plastering an obviously-fake smile on my face, making it obvious I was pretending to be polite while the look in my eyes was very much back off. This is my mate and not yours. Davey was still slightly ahead of me, so I couldn’t see his expression well, but I imagined it was similar.

Taylor’s eyes flicked between me and Davey—then briefly at our children. “I... I...” They clenched their jaw and stormed away, heading down the porch steps and toward the street.

David blinked a few times before firmly shutting—and locking—the front door. He moved to set Natalie down, but she clung to his shirt. “Daaaddy! Dats wi’ meee!” she insisted.

David chuckled. “Of course, baby girl. C’mon.” He took her back downstairs.

Gabriel tugged on the collar of my shirt. Politely. Unobtrusively. We hadn’t tried to teach him how to get our attention gently, it was something he’d just had in him. God knew he didn’t get that from me. I imagined it was something in David’s genetics from one of his parents. David didn’t know a lot about his mom, but from what I’d heard about Gabe, my son might have inherited his softer, gentler nature from his grandfather.

“What is it, sweetie?” I asked.

“Who was that, really?”

Three-and-a-half and smart as a whip.

“You know how me and Daddy are married?” I asked. Gabriel nodded. “Well, before we were married, we were dating. That person was someone your dad was dating before he and I met.”

“He loved them?”

Apparently David and Taylor hadn’t dated for very long—half-a-year, at best—so I couldn’t speak to that. “Maybe,” I said. “C’mon. Let’s go dance. Uncle Ash, his spouse, and Evie should be here soon and then we can really get this party started.”

Gabriel nodded.

—

David sat Natalie on his lap in the rocking chair in her room, picking up the small basket of kids’ books next to the chair. “Okay, baby girl. Which one do you want me to read to you?”

She grabbed a large book with a purple border around a small portrait of a mermaid. “Dis one!”

David chuckled. She had this version of The Little Mermaid memorized, and still she asked for it almost every night. “Okay,” he said, setting the book down next to the chair again.

He opened the thick cover and flipped past the copyright and dedication pages to the actual story.

“Daddy?” Natalie piped up before he could start reading.

“Yeah?”

Natalie squirmed until she could turn around enough to mostly face him. Her big eyes—his mate’s eyes—looked up at him. “You picked right,” she said, nodding as if she’d just given him the answer to life, the universe, and everything.

“What do you mean, baby girl?”

She sighed dramatically and pointed to the small picture frame on her wall. A picture of their family. “You picked right,” she repeated, more insistently. “Gabe said you used to love the person at the door today. But you picked right, not picking them.” She was too young to notice when David flinched at her calling her brother Gabe, but her mouth had a hard time forming all of Gabriel.

David smiled and brushed her damp-from-her-bath short hair out of her face. “Thanks, baby girl. I’m glad I picked my mate too. Because now we have you and Gabriel.”

She smiled. David bent down to kiss her on the forehead. She straightened up and kissed his cheek with a loud, “Mwah!” David chuckled.

She spun back around so she was facing forward, looking at the book. “Mermaid! Please?”

“Of course, baby girl.”

#that opening scene was me projecting my MOM hard onto Angel lol XD #Redacted ASMR #fic #Pups AU #Redacted David #Redacted Angel #David Shaw #Angel #David #Natalie Shaw #Gabriel D. Shaw #Starlit Fic

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moonmoonthecrabking · 2 years ago

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i did dance for like. 10 years and something fun about that is that there are certain combos of choreography that i can just. remember even though i haven't done them in years (or danced at all in months). i can also recognise a popular song by "I DID THAT IN DANCE" or not listen to specific songs normally and instead think the dance instructions instead of the lyrics or music (e.g. "shake your groove thing, shake your groove thing yeah yeah. STEP BEHIND STEP CLAP show em how you do it now (while rolling arms)" this was in 2011 and it has not left my mind since.) anyway. thought you should know.

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kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

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On the Issue of Mortality

Chapter 3: Duplicity

“Pretty good, pretty good?! That’s not good enough!”

AO3 Link

Monkey King doesn’t tell Kid to come and see him, nor does he actively make Flower Fruit Mountain uninviting, but it takes longer than he expects to hear his staff slam onto sand. He supposes he should have expected that, as just a cursory look of the Kid tells him that his successor is the type to do absolutely everything on his own.

He purposely doesn’t go to check on Kid, purposefully holds back, because he’s been getting too close. Watching the Kid from afar at all hours of the day—he’s Sun Wukong! He has better things to do than to just semi-stalk a full grown mortal adult.

Kid’s an adult, he can decide whether or not he wants Monkey King’s help. Even when Monkey King feels those little flares that mean Kid is using his powers, even when his stupid brain worries for some reason, even then he stays back at Flower Fruit Mountain and takes it easy. If Kid needs help, he’ll ask.

Won’t he?

He should be concerned by how long it takes for Kid to reach out, but he’s made it absolutely clear to himself that he won’t be getting attached to his successor. It’s really the best for the both of them. Kid looks at Monkey King as if he’s God and Monkey King doesn’t see that hero worship fading anytime soon. On top of that, he just doesn’t need a mortal hanging around. It’s just asking for one of them to get hurt.

By one of them, he means he. Because Monkey King, despite his best efforts, has a soft spot for mortals. Triptaka was bad enough, he misses his master daily, but to add more to that roster? Never.

He knows he’s been getting too close, too protective, so he pulls back, stops people-watching, stays away from the mortal world, lets Kid handle it.

A few weeks pass before he feels his staff hit sand and he waits patiently for Kid to come rushing in. And he does, practically tripping over himself as he heads into Monkey King’s inner sanctum, and the first thing Monkey King smells is blood.

He jumps off of his cloud and watches Kid run over as something like terror tremors up his spine, because he hasn’t smelt blood in years. It brings back too many memories, memories of his master stolen by demons and threatened with death over and over and Monkey King coming in just in time, but this time he didn’t even do anything and Kid comes over smelling of blood and Monkey King worries.

Kid has a bandage on his face and a once-over reveals a quite few injuries on the Kid, as if he’d been in a fight a few days prior. That deep seated fear settles in his chest like a weight, and he slaps on a grin and waves lazily, bag of peach chips in hand.

“Hey! What’s up?” he calls out.

Kid holds the staff like it’s a shield. Monkey King wonders if Kid’s scared of him. The thought bothers him.

“Um, hey, uhh...I was wondering about, um, training? I guess? You-um-you never said that we would-but you know more about how to use this than me, so—” Monkey King stops listening after the third stumbling sentence, because yawn, he gets the point, whatever.

“Sure,” he interrupts.

He turns around before he sees the look on Kid’s face. He doesn’t see Kid go quiet and look down at his feet, as if ashamed to think he could speak.

“We’ll start with some katas. C’mon.” He waves a hand, and Kid follows.

The first katas are a mix of easy and hard ones, because he needs to gauge the Kid’s current martial skills. Once he establishes a baseline, he can figure out where to start Kid from.

Kid is clumsy, unfocused, and not at all sure-footed. He stumbles through the easy katas and looks lost when shown the hard ones. Monkey King barely bites back sighs of frustration, because he can’t get mad when learning was the point of the exercise. He just wishes his successor had some semblance of martial arts training. It would make things a little easier.

He’s about to tell Kid to take a breather, ‘cause no point in continuing when nothing is getting done, but then he watches a little longer and sees something...interesting. Concerning? Interesting.

Kid is determined. Monkey King watches him take a deep breath—he sees young eyes glance his way, and Monkey King forces his gaze to drop from interested to bored—and reset his stance, stumbling and fumbling with the same kata over and over and over and over until something snaps.

It’s not a triumphant moment, when Kid gets the kata right. Instead of bending like bamboo and finding his groove, Monkey King watches his successor push through like a hand through a wall, sharp and frustrated instead of excited and relieved.

“Good work,” he says, because you should reward success, right?

Kid brightens like the sun under the praise, soaking it up like a sponge, and Monkey King watches, and wonders.

Kid goes through the next kata with that same grit and determination, occasionally glancing at Monkey King for something like approval, and Monkey King throws up some lazy thumbs up, leaning back on his cloud and munching on peach chips. He does throw out a suggestion or two when Kid looks like he’ll snap again, but it seems inevitable, as if failure is a non option.

At this point, Monkey King doesn’t have it in him to tell Kid the point of the exercise, to tell him that some katas weren’t meant for beginners and some were, and that he was just testing Kid’s skills. And, hey, if Kid gets the easy and hard katas down on his own, less work for him, right? Why teach someone something if they can teach themselves? That’s how he learned things, after all.

Again, he thinks he can hear his master screaming, off in the distance. He shrugs to himself.

“Done!” Kid shouts from below, and Monkey King watches him perform the eight katas he’d shown Kid earlier in perfect form. Well, not perfect, but close enough.

“Nice! We can do more whenever you show up next, but, uh, that should be good for today.” No point in overwhelming the Kid, after all. Plus, eight katas ain’t too bad for a first day. “Hey, do you got a schedule? I kinda have a life, you know. Would be good to know when to expect you.”

He doesn’t mean to let it come out as biting as it is, but Kid hunches down on himself and looks so terribly guilty that Monkey King immediately regrets asking. He opens his mouth to say something that could soften the blow, lighten the mood, but Kid speaks up before he can.

“Um, I talked to Pigsy, and he doesn’t mind me taking half shifts on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. We’re not as busy then, and some Sundays, Pigsy goes out shopping, so I won’t be missing work then,” he shrugs.

Monkey King nods. Three days a week doesn’t seem too bad, all things considered. Gives him some free time, 4 days where he doesn’t have to worry about watching out for the Kid.

“Sounds good.” He grins, eyes closed with his arms back behind his head. He expects Kid to leave, but the shuffling of feet do not turn into footsteps moving away from him, and Kid doesn’t say goodbye or move for a good few seconds.

Right before he opens an eye to see what the issue is, Kid speaks.

“Um, how do your clones work?”

Well, now, isn’t that a change of subject.

“Figured you would know, considering your story chronicle thing.” Monkey King sits up and stretches, eyeing Kid with a half curious, half pensive glance.

Kid fidgets, and something flickers on his face. Guilt, fear? Kid isn’t good at lying, but he’s very good at hiding. “Yeah, but I’ve-uh-I mean not all the stories are a hundred percent accurate, right? And, like, I was just wondering how you use them, so when-so if I need to use them I know how, you know? Extra me’s are pretty useful, right?”

Kid doesn’t seem to notice the slip ups, but Monkey King does. He’d wondered if Kid would get all of his powers right off the bat or just the basics. Makes him wonder if he should try for transformations, see if Kid can shapeshift.

One thing at a time. He hops off of his cloud, picks a strand from his hair and blows on it. An identical copy of himself appears and Kid’s eyes sparkle with interest.

“Let’s see yours,” Monkey King gestures for Kid to try, and he gets that same flicker of something. Guilt is definitely there, and nervousness. He doesn’t know why. Shame, he thinks he’s getting?

He glances at the few wounds on Kid’s body with a new perspective.

Kid eventually plucks out a strand and blows, and an identical copy of Kid appears. Monkey King raises a brow.

“Nice,” he says with a grin, and his clone leans in to take a closer look.

Kid’s clone hunches down on himself, anxious, and Kid quickly dispels the clone, nervous. Monkey King dispels his own with a shrug.

“Um, how do you use your clones?” Kid asks, voice hiking up into a panicked lilt that seems to be expecting Monkey King’s response to be hard and mean.

“I mean, I use ‘em a lot as cannon fodder in battle. Bullets I guess? They can’t take as much of a beating as I can, but they pack enough of a punch or can be enough of a distraction that they help me get the upper hand in battle. Not that I need them often.” He’s pretty good at fighting villains without them, thank you very much.

“Do you ever have them...stick around?” Kid asks, and Monkey King raises a brow.

“No? The world only needs one of me. I’m pretty great, no need for a second one stealing my spotlight.” He glances at the bandages on Kid, and a distinct lesser amount of hair on the left side of his head. “Why?”

Kid almost full on flinches at the question, gripping the staff like a shield again, as if one wrong thing said would lead Monkey King to attack. It puts Monkey King on edge. What’s got the Kid so antsy? It’s not like Monkey King tries to be scary around him. He’d like to think his laid back persona would give off a less threatening vibe.

“Uh-I-no reason!” Monkey King bites back a sigh at the obvious lie. “A-anyway, I promised Mei we’d go to the arcade, and I’m gonna be late. Bye!”

Kid runs off, and Monkey King fights the urge to shake the story out of him.

Something happened, and the Kid got hurt. Even with Kid being vulnerable, he’s still got a bit more durability than most mortals, so it would take something big to damage him. Why wouldn’t he talk about it? Is Monkey King really that unapproachable?

He wrestles with that and takes a deep breath. No. He’s not going to be that close to the Kid. Kid’s got an entire other family to talk to about his problems. If it’s important, if it’s Monkey King related, he’ll hear about it. If not, not his problem.

Surely the Kid will talk to someone about the issue. He’s got the chef—Pigsy?—and the scholar, and that dragon girl. He has people. Monkey King isn’t in charge of the well being of his successor, he’s just making sure Kid doesn’t die, and Kid’s fine. Just a few scratches and bruises.

But he’s mortal, and vulnerable, and a bit thick, Monkey King knows. So he wonders. And sits back. If Kid needs help, he’ll ask.

Won’t he?

The question still has no definitive answer.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #MK #monkie kid MK #monkey king #monkie kid monkey king #sun wukong #qi xiaotian

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issa-me-addy · 5 years ago

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It Still Hurts (Peter Parker x Reader)

okay so i saw this gifset here and the quote from the movie [Happy: I thought you had super strength. // Peter: It still hurts. ] and INSPIRATION STRUCK, again i bet this concept has been done before but i cannot hold back i must write about this so here is my sad petey x reader one shot please enjoy

WARNINGS: angst?, cursing, talk of blood/stitching, crying and generally just a really sad piece i have no reason for this i just couldn’t get the concept out my mind

Word count: 1725

It was getting late. Very late, even for Peter and you were growing very concerned. He told May that he was going to stay at the Tower with Happy after a simple arms deal bust he was assigned to do with Sam and Bucky out at the shipyard. So of course, the two of you arranged that he’d come in through your fire escape to spend the night instead. To your disbelief though, he was late.

In general, when the two of you made these kinds of plans he would be in your window at three the latest but it was pushing near four in the morning and you were growing more and more anxious by the second.

As the clock hit 4:30, Peter’s hand hit your window.

You opened it up quickly, the dim light of your TV the only thing illuminating your room. He shuffled in, leaning heavily on you, panting and wincing with every rough step towards your bed.

“What the fuck happened Peter?” You asked, genuinely curious, releasing your hold on his elbow as he sat down on the corner of your bed. His body fell forward as he leaned his forearms onto his knees and allowed his head to swing between his shoulders.

“I was wearing the old suit. I left the new one in the lab because I coded some new stuff for it and I’ve been putting off this last update. I thought I would be fine since it was an easy mission, plus Wanda came out with us but these guys had some punch to ‘em.” Peter explained as you stood in front of him, slowly moving his head and arms around to check for anything that needed special attention. When you lifted his right arm he winced.

You nodded, allowing him to continue explaining what went down at the docks. You shuffled through your closet until you found your old med kit, humming softly every now and then to let him know you were still listening.

The kit had some dust from sitting at the very back of the shelf and not being touched for over a year since Peter had joined forces with the Avengers. With the major suit upgrade and the med team at the tower, he never had to sneak in through your window at night to get patched up anymore, which begged the question that you could no longer hold back.

“Pete, why didn’t you go back to the tower to get patched up?” You asked.

“I didn’t want to go to the tower, they would have made me stay there,” he explained. “And I really wanted to see you. I got my ass handed to me, babe. It sucked.”

You turned on the lamp that sat atop the small table by your bed and sat to Pete’s right, examining the cut just above his right shoulder blade. He was going to need a few stitches.

“I can see that,” You joked, opening up the kit and prepping your needle. “Take the suit off, I need to clean this up. It’s gonna be at least four stitches.”

He obliged, hissing as he peeled off the top and letting it drop into his lap. “I always hated stitches.”

“I know, but it’s gotta happen,” you explained, gently wiping the gash with alcohol and wincing alongside his reactions. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for the blood, for making you do this.”

You shake your head despite the fact that he has his back to you. “It’s fine,” you reply. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t wanna get patched up by the nurse at the tower. She even gives lollipops afterwards.”

He lets out a sharp chuckle. “Yeah Nurse Katherine’s great at fixing me up, sure, but I really didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

You hum in reply as you prep your needle. “Okay, Pete, I’m gonna start the stitches.”

Peter nods his head and remembers not to talk while you do these stitches.

Up until high school, the only stitches you knew were the kind you did to patch up the pits of your t-shirts and to put little flowers in your denim jacket. Then, in your freshman year, your cousin had busted his forearm open at the skatepark and you were the only person in the entire family with a steady hand. That night you learned how to stitch a man up. After you told Peter that story though, he started showing up on your fire escape with cuts, scrapes and bruises galore.

Although it had been over a year since you’d last done this though, Peter had given you a lot of practice and you were back in your groove very quickly.

Despite this, you heard soft cries coming from the broad body in front of you.

“I thought you had super strength,” you attempted to make fun, pulling through your third stitch.

“It still hurts,” he replied, his voice raspy and low.

In your heart you knew he wasn’t talking about the stitches. You’ve stitched up a gouge much worse on his calf after he got caught up with a girl who really loved her knives, and he didn’t even complain. That night it was eight stitches and not a peep from him.

You finished the rest of the stitches in silence. After wiping up the rest of the blood smeared on his body, you cleaned up the skin around the suture and placed a large cotton pad atop it, securing that in place and hoping that he didn’t get blood on your bed sheets again.

You packed away your med pack and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the collection of clothes you’d stolen from Peter in the last year or so that you guys have been together.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling his suit off and climbing into his sweats.

His eyes were still red and puffy, the only sounds filling the room were random sniffles and the sound of you sorting out the bed for the two of you to sleep.

“Are you okay, Pete?” You asked, sitting up on the left side of the bed, the comforter pulled up in your lap.

He pulled the shirt on over his head and pulled the blanket off your lap and settled himself in between your legs, his back pressed up against you, and pulling your arms around his shoulders.

Before you could piece words together to react, soft sobs filled the room.

A minute passed and you pulled him closer to you, pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head and running your thumb up and down his forearm.

His breathing finally slowed. “I miss him so much.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek thinking of something to say.

You knew well enough he was talking about Tony. Ever since Tony died, Peter’s been off his game. Even with the Stark tech, he was getting pretty hurt at every single mission. He wasn’t sleeping as much and if you managed to catch him in between tasks, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

“I know,” you reply. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

You can’t think of anything else to do but squeeze him a little tighter.

“I just-- it still hurts. It’s been months and it still hurts. I miss him. I don’t like the world without Tony Stark. It’s scarier. Even I’m scared all the time. I can’t focus on missions, and that means I’m putting people in danger,” he stops to breathe, pulling your arms a little closer to his chest. “and I’m just so tired of watching good men die at the hands of selfish people.”

You sit and listen and feel your heart ache at the sight and sound of nothing but a boy in pain, mourning the loss of someone he loved so dearly, and there’s not much else you can do but hold him close, listen and be there for him.

“I know. It’s not fair. There’s nothing fair about it.”

“I want Tony back.”

The two of you sit there for a while longer, Pete’s sniffles filling the air. Eventually they stop and he unwraps your arms from around him and the two of you lie down.

You end up on your back with Peter’s head resting on your chest, slowly breathing in your scent. His arms snake around your middle and you know he’s going to be insistent on holding you like this for the rest of the night, so you try to get comfy. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you rake through them over and over and over again, hoping that he’ll fall asleep soon.

He doesn’t.

“Do you think we’ll be okay?” he asked, his voice soft and quiet.

“I think New York can only be so bad with a guy like Spiderman defending it,” you mutter back, pressing another kiss to his forehead.

“I don’t think I can fill Mr. Stark’s shoes, y/n.”

“I think you can. He picked you, Peter.”

“But he was Iron Man, he was always there when the world needed saving.”

“I don’t think he would have done what he did if he didn’t think that you could help take care of the world for him.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him hold his breath, so you continued.

“And you’re not alone Pete. He gave you a family with the Avengers and he believed in you.”

“Yeah.”

“I believe in you.”

You smoothed his hair back before tangling your fingers with the bunch at the nape of his neck. The two of you lied awake for nearly another hour, not speaking, just holding each other.

You held this boy in your arms, desperate to protect him from anymore loss and grief. This boy who had a huge heart and nothing but a yearn to protect the ones around him. This boy who was one of the people responsible for saving the universe.

And Peter held his number one reason for continuing to fight the good fight. That night, as you held him and his chest filled with an ache only you could soothe, he made a promise to himself that he would protect the world with every bit of him, so long as you were in it.

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doctors-star · 4 years ago

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“Yeah, I can see how hiding behind a rock is a much better strategy.”

and

“At least you’ll die doing what you love; Walking into danger.”

for the cowboys

“What’cha doin’?”

Tommy tilts his head back against the rock and looks up at the intruder. Once identified against the bright glare of the sun haloing him, Tommy reaches up and hauls on Johnny’s shirt until he too crumples and settles in the shade at Tommy’s side. “Hidin’,” he says, pressing a finger to his lips. “Sheriff's out huntin’ me, on account of how I pinched the paperweight from off of his desk.” He shifts and fidgets the fine glass hemisphere out of his pocket to show Johnny the chased leaves circling the edge and the cut lines along the top like a whisky decanter.

Johnny makes suitably impressed noises, leaning in so close that his hair brushes Tommy’s over the prize. “Dang,” he whistles in admiration, pressing his fingertip to an intersection of grooves hard enough to make it go white and bloodless, then pulling away to gaze at the lines as they slowly fade. “He’ll be hoppin’ mad. Your aunt’ll kill you,” he says, sounding slightly awed, and Tommy preens under the rightful worship.

Then remembers himself, and winces. Kill doesn’t cover it - she’ll have his hide, and then keep him locked in the house for weeks until she’s satisfied he’s learned something from it. He won’t see Johnny, either, except through the window in the short intervals before Aunt June notices and strides out with a broom to send the other boy skittering away like a stray cat. “Well,” he says sensibly, “that’s why I’m not home.”

Johnny nods seriously, kicking his legs out in front of him. He’s younger than Tommy, but shooting up faster; his new grown-boy trousers are already a good four inches higher than his ankles, and his shirts don’t fit as well as Tommy’s, and he hasn’t got any shoes in summertime, on account of how his mother’s given up on him until he’s really stopped growing - or so she had said when rounding up her son and stopping to have a quick cup of tea and a chat with Aunt June, which had inevitably turned into an hour of commiserating over having boys of their age to manage. Tommy turns his gaze on his own turn-ups, and decides that he doesn’t really mind being shorter if it means his clothes will fit him properly, and he can turn himself out presentably.

“Yeah,” Johnny says, “I can see how hidin’ behind a rock is a much better strategy.”

Tommy nods, pleased with himself and his prize. Which is, of course, when a voice sounds out across the narrow desert path. It is his Aunt June. She is, indeed, hopping mad. “Thomas Morrin, you come out here right now and account your actions to me!”

Tommy and Johnny spring to their feet entirely on nervous instinct, staring back towards town where Aunt June is striding out in their direction. The paperweight slips in his sweaty palm, but he can’t seem to put it down - or move, or anything, frozen in panic. I’m only twelve, his hindbrain squeaks unhelpfully. I’m too young to be put in jail, or skinned by Aunt June. I can’t die - Johnny and me were going to go swimming in the creek tomorrow.

He turns to Johnny - or more accurately, where Johnny had been, for Johnny is already several paces away to the northwest and the grasslands, and the creek. He turns back and offers Tommy an exhilarated, wild grin and holds his hand out. “Come on!” he hollers, dancing backwards on bare, dirty toes and gesturing for Tommy to follow. “We can make it!”

Tommy glances back at his aunt, and reckons he’ll take his chances. Who knows - maybe they’ll make it over the river, and Tommy can have one last swim before his inevitable incarceration for aeons, millennia, or at least a week.

Tommy is just gearing up to run when a voice cuts through his focus. “I’m terrible sorry, but could y’all just run through the plan for me one more time? I’m sure it’ll all make sense when you do.”

He relaxes out of his stance, catching Johnny opposite him likewise straightening and unlacing his fingers from the stirrup he’d made of them. They both turn hesitantly to their unexpected audience: it doesn’t sound like Noel is sure the plan will make sense. Don’t look like it either, with her eyebrow cocked sternly in their direction and one arm crossed over her waist to prop up the delicate fingers tapping her jawbone. Tommy resists the urge to doff his hat and shuffle his feet, like a badly-behaved schoolchild with a broken slate. “Well ma’am,” he says instead, “Johnny here is going to give me a lift. This should enable me to reach the porch roof, from where I shall climb onto the roof proper without any trouble.”

Noel’s fingers flick out to point at the roof apex instead. “In order to rescue the cat,” she says flatly.

Johnny puffs up a little, almost offended. “It’s a kitten,” he corrects. And it is - tiny and grey and mewling pitifully as it clings to the shingles. It’s the sorriest thing Tommy ever saw. It must be rescued.

Noel waves this triviality away easily. “The animal, which got there under its own steam and can doubtless return in the same way, I understand. And how will you get down, Mr Morrin?”

Tommy and Johnny frown at the roof. It doesn’t look that high. “I’ll be alright, ma’am.”

“Oh, alright,” Noel says easily. “At least you’ll die doin’ what you love: runnin’ headfirst straight into danger. Mr Williams,” she calls, ignoring how Johnny and Tommy both inflate in irritation at this slight on their wisdom and skills and instead waving her hand delicately to attract Will’s attention as he emerges from the home of one of his patients down the street, “won’t you come stand by me, just in case?”

Will’s dark eyes flick over the entire scene. “Oh dear,” he says conversationally, wandering over to stand at Noel’s side. She slides her spare hand into the crook of his elbow easily, tucking him into her side, and Tommy wonders all over again just what those two think of each other, ‘cause he ain’t got a damn idea. Then Will gestures invitingly at Tommy and Johnny. “Well, don’t stop on our account.”

Johnny glances sideways at Tommy. “But you reckon we oughtta stop,” he says, nearly a question.

Will shrugs and Noel looks like she’s chewing down a smile. Will’s eyes keep glancing off to one side, but that ain’t really unusual with him so Tommy doesn’t really notice it - not properly. “We wouldn’t dream of tellin’ y’all what to do,” Noel says sweetly.

The implication is clear. Unfortunately, Tommy is incapable of reading this as anything but a challenge, so he turns back to Johnny with new determination. Johnny braces his hands and Tommy bends down for maximum speed as he runs straight for Johnny, plants his boot in his palms, and is launched straight upwards and onto the porch roof. From there, without pausing for thought, he scrambles up the wall by wedging his toes in the gaps between the planks cladding the building, and doesn’t stop until he is crouched, cat-like, on the shingles.

Then he looks around him. Speaking of cat-like, there appears to be a distinct absence of kitten on the roof now.

He looks back down. Noel and Will are grinning without restraint, now, and Johnny is looking a little uncomfortable. Which is reasonable, as there is a small grey kitten clawing its way up his leg, and it is definitely not on the roof. It’s purring quite loudly, too, and Johnny’s finger keeps stretching out and stroking guiltily over its head.

“Did I scare it down?” Tommy asks, in a last-ditch effort to regain at least a little dignity in victory from this.

Will shuts one eye as he squints and shakes his head. “Naw,” Noel informs him happily, “it came down when the doc showed up.”

Tommy looks at the floor. It suddenly looks an awful long way away. “Johnny,” he says quietly, “how am I gonna get down?”

Johnny frowns, assessing the porch beams, the shingles, the siding. He tilts his head as he looks for routes and footholds and anything to make the return easier. He looks just like he had when they were kids and getting in and out of buildings without permission and fairly often with handfuls of sweets and brown sugar in their pockets, and with the maximum of mischief. They’d got into a lot of scrapes together, him and Johnny, but they’d survived ‘em all so far - Johnny would get him down.

Johnny squints up at him, shading his eyes under one hand. “Carefully?” he suggests.

#this one comes with the working title of 'tommy and johnny's mad lad power hour'#tommy and johnny are the only ones who are actually from danser can u believe #anyway just a short fun one!#a town called danser #this is your captain speaking

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angelhummel · 4 years ago

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once again i spent hours of my life answering >5000 questions in order to sort almost all of the glee songs ever (there’s 683 songs in the sorter when there’s over 700 on the show) anyway if you wanna see my rankings for those then check it out <3 [also here’s the sorter!]

1 Being Alive 2 Rose's Turn 3 Baby, It's Cold Outside 4 Le Jazz Hot 5 Maybe This Time 6 And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going 7 Come What May 8 To Sir, With Love 9 As If We Never Said Goodbye 10 Valerie 11 Somewhere Only We Know 12 Cough Syrup 13 Teenage Dream 14 Not The Boy Next Door 15 It's Too Late 16 It's My Life / Confessions Part II 17 Start Me Up / Livin' On A Prayer 18 When I Get You Alone 19 The Happening 20 The Boy Is Mine 21 Home 22 Don't You Want Me 23 How Will I Know 24 Bad Romance 25 Not While I'm Around 26 Scream 27 Shake It Out 28 On My Own 29 Hate On Me 30 Bills, Bills, Bills 31 4 Minutes 32 True Colors 33 There Are Worse Things I Could Do 34 Go Your Own Way 35 Jessie's Girl 36 Proud Mary 37 Tongue Tied 38 Last Christmas 39 Somebody Loves You 40 Back To Black 41 Sweet Transvestite 42 For Good 43 At The Ballet 44 Gloria 45 Blame It (On The Alcohol) 46 Like A Prayer 47 So Emotional 48 Misery 49 Nasty / Rhythm Nation 50 Toxic 51 Don't Speak 52 Born This Way 53 Dog Days Are Over 54 Defying Gravity 55 Last Name 56 Womanizer 57 I Will Always Love You 58 Broadway Baby 59 The Lady Is A Tramp 60 I'm A Slave 4 U 61 Centerfold / Hot In Herre 62 Thriller / Heads Will Roll 63 Bust Your Windows 64 Candyman 65 Brave 66 Boys / Boyfriend 67 The Scientist 68 The Scientist (Acapella) 69 Dream On 70 Hey Jude 71 I Lived 72 I'm Still Here 73 I Believe In A Thing Called Love 74 Me Against The Music 75 Like A Virgin 76 My Man 77 Everybody Wants To Rule The World 78 I Have Nothing 79 Blackbird 80 Got To Get You Into My Life 81 Animal 82 3 83 I Follow Rivers 84 Just The Way You Are 85 Constant Craving 86 Don't Stop Me Now 87 Hung Up 88 Let's Have A Kiki 89 Love Shack 90 Marry The Night 91 Hit Me With Your Best Shot / One Way Or Another 92 It's Not Right, But It's Okay 93 I Want To Hold Your Hand 94 All You Need Is Love 95 Getting Married Today 96 Don't Rain On My Parade 97 Don't Stop Believin' (Regionals) 98 We've Got Tonite 99 Smooth Criminal 100 Uptown Girl 101 Sway 102 If I Die Young 103 No One Is Alone 104 Look At Me I'm Sandra Dee 105 No Scrubs 106 Mamma Mia 107 Papa Don't Preach 108 Teenage Dream (Acoustic Version) 109 Santa Baby 110 We Found Love 111 Roar 112 She's Not There 113 Spotlight 114 The Way You Look Tonight/You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile 115 Some Nights 116 Rumour Has It / Someone Like You 117 You Make Me Feel So Young 118 You Keep Me Hangin' On 119 I'll Stand By You (Amber) 120 Hand In My Pocket / I Feel The Earth Move 121 Crazy / U Drive Me Crazy 122 Funny Girl 123 Cold Hearted 124 Keep Holding On 125 Bye Bye Bye / I Want It That Way 126 I Know Where I've Been 127 I Kissed A Girl (Season Six) 128 Hopelessly Devoted To You 129 Homeward Bound / Home 130 Into The Groove 131 Hold On 132 Tell Him 133 Nutbush City Limits 134 Because You Loved Me 135 Perfect 136 Cherish / Cherish 137 Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah) 138 Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead 139 You Are The Sunshine Of My Life 140 Tik Tok 141 The Safety Dance 142 Oops!... I Did It Again 143 Run Joey Run 144 Time Warp 145 Something's Coming 146 Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go 147 The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face 148 Vogue 149 Downtown 150 Diva 151 Dancing With Myself 152 Rockstar 153 Wrecking Ball 154 We Are Young 155 I Saw Her Standing There 156 Jumpin', Jumpin' 157 Just Can't Get Enough 158 Take Me To Church 159 Wannabe 160 It's All Over 161 Take Me Home Tonight 162 If I Were A Boy 163 Landslide 164 Pompeii 165 The Bitch Is Back / Dress You Up 166 Christmas Wrapping 167 Buenos Aires 168 Call Me Maybe 169 You Can't Stop The Beat 170 Seasons Of Love 171 Safety Dance 172 Dream A Little Dream 173 Alfie 174 I Want To Break Free 175 Baby One More Time 176 A House Is Not A Home 177 Daydream Believer 178 I Don't Know How To Love Him 179 Hungry Like The Wolf / Rio 180 Suddenly Seymour 181 People 182 Silly Love Songs 183 Love Song 184 Shout It Out Loud 185 Some People 186 One Of Us 187 Sing! 188 Up Up Up 189 Torn 190 Popular 191 This Is The New Year 192 Paradise By The Dashboard Light 193 Let It Snow 194 Let It Be 195 Never Can Say Goodbye 196 Touch A Touch A Touch A Touch Me 197 La Isla Bonita 198 Tightrope 199 My Love Is Your Love 200 Love Is A Battlefield 201 Losing My Religion 202 Total Eclipse Of The Heart 203 This Time 204 I Dreamed A Dream 205 Leaving On A Jet Plane 206 Locked Out Of Heaven 207 Chandelier 208 Girl On Fire 209 Telephone 210 Don't Cry For Me Argentina 211 Human Nature 212 Halo / Walking On Sunshine 213 Anything Goes / Anything You Can Do 214 Make You Feel My Love 215 Stronger 216 Nowadays / Hot Honey Rag 216 Pumpin' Blood 218 Papa Can You Hear Me? 219 Summer Nights 220 Sweet Caroline 221 Superstition 222 We Will Rock You 223 Alone 224 Hello, I Love You 225 Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now) 226 A Hard Day's Night 227 Mine 228 My Prerogative 229 Beauty School Drop Out 230 My Lovin' (You're Never Gonna Get It) 231 Extraordinary Merry Christmas 232 Every Breath You Take 233 Express Yourself 234 Everybody Talks 235 Everytime 236 Marry You 237 Moves Like Jagger / Jumpin' Jack Flash 238 My Favorite Things 239 Santa Claus Is Coming To Town 240 River Deep, Mountain High 241 My Life Would Suck Without You 242 Be Okay 243 Applause 244 Cool 245 All I Want For Christmas Is You 246 American Boy 247 Cell Block Tango 248 Breakaway 249 Don't Dream It's Over 250 Let Me Love You (Until You Learn To Love Yourself) 251 Whatever Happened To Saturday Night? 252 Without You 253 Science Fiction Double Feature 254 Loser Like Me 255 I Kissed A Girl 256 I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You 257 I Can't Go For That (No Can Do) / You Make My Dreams 258 Don't Stop Believin' (Season 5) 259 Empire State Of Mind 260 Old Time Rock & Roll / Danger Zone 261 Take My Breath Away 262 You Get What You Give 263 Take On Me 264 Beautiful 265 It's Time 266 ABC 267 Afternoon Delight 268 Don't Stand So Close To Me / Young Girl 269 Don't Stop Believin' (Season 1) 270 Colorblind 271 Cool Kids 272 Dancing Queen 273 Songbird 274 Somebody That I Used To Know 275 Singing In The Rain / Umbrella 276 I Feel Pretty / Unpretty 277 Borderline / Open Your Heart 278 In My Life 279 I'm Still Standing 280 Blow Me (One Last Kiss) 281 Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? 282 Do They Know It's Christmas? 283 Mustang Sally 284 Pinball Wizard 285 Anything Could Happen 286 America 287 Any Way You Want It 288 Higher Ground 289 Flashdance... What A Feeling 290 My Life 291 Let It Go 292 If I Can't Have You 293 L-O-V-E 294 Closer 295 Addicted To Love 296 Heroes 297 A Boy Like That 298 Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend / Material Girl 299 Holding Out For A Hero 300 Dinosaur 301 Disco Inferno 302 Party All The Time 303 Raise Your Glass 304 Push It 305 Lean On Me 306 Pure Imagination 307 Lovefool 308 Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin' 309 Americano / Dance Again 310 All Of Me 311 At Last 312 Promises, Promises 313 Hair / Crazy In Love 314 Happy Xmas (War Is Over) 315 Chasing Pavements 316 Don't You (Forget About Me) 317 Love Child 318 School's Out 319 Poker Face 320 Boogie Shoes 321 Bootylicious 322 I Love New York / New York, New York 323 One Less Bell To Answer 324 Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours 325 Rehab 326 I Don't Want To Know 327 Shout 328 I'm The Greatest Star 329 I Love It 330 Never Say Never 331 Juke Box Hero 332 One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer 333 Glad You Came 334 For Once In My Life 335 Here Comes The Sun 336 Baby It's You 337 Drive My Car 338 Last Friday Night 339 Roots Before Branches 340 The Only Exception 341 Survivor / I Will Survive 342 All Or Nothing 343 Time After Time 344 You're The One That I Want 345 Yeah! 346 Starships 347 You've Got To Hide Your Love Away 348 Story Of My Life 349 Something 350 We Need A Little Christmas 351 Gold Digger 352 Beth 353 Fighter 354 Forget You 355 How To Be A Heartbreaker 356 Get Back 357 Love You Like A Love Song 358 There's A Light (Over At The Frankenstein Place) 359 We Got The Beat 360 Make 'Em Laugh 361 Sing 362 U Can't Touch This 363 Try A Little Tenderness 364 Pony 365 On Our Way 366 Lucky Star 367 Loser 368 Over The Rainbow 369 Outcast 370 Stop! In The Name Of Love / Free Your Mind 371 What Makes You Beautiful 372 Will You Love Me Tomorrow / Head Over Feet 373 Wide Awake 374 Wishin' And Hoping 375 Yesterday 376 Out Here On My Own 377 You're All The World To Me 378 Somethin' Stupid 379 Someday We'll Be Together 380 River 381 The Longest Time 382 Somebody To Love 383 The Edge Of Glory 384 The Most Wonderful Day Of The Year 385 Lucky 386 Memory 387 Mary's Boy Child 388 Longest Time 389 My Dark Side 390 Taking Chances 391 The First Noël 392 Smile 393 Celebrity Skin 394 All That Jazz 395 A Thousand Years 396 Big Girls Don't Cry 397 Ain't No Way 398 Don't Sleep In The Subway 399 Doo Wop (That Thing) 400 Don't Stop 401 Uptight (Everything's Alright) 402 New York State Of Mind 403 Turning Tables 404 Vacation 405 Fire 406 Hold It Against Me 407 I've Gotta Be Me 408 Endless Love 409 Run The World (Girls) 410 Saving All My Love For You 411 Give Up The Funk 412 I Am Changing 413 I Melt With You 414 I Could Have Danced All Night 415 Fat Bottomed Girls 416 Hot For Teacher 417 Never Going Back Again 418 Imagine 419 Jolene 420 Arthur's Theme 421 Damn It, Janet 422 Control 423 Barracuda 424 Copacabana 425 Barely Breathing 426 I Look To You 427 Come Sail Away 428 Jump 429 Clarity 430 Friday I'm In Love 431 Jar Of Hearts 432 It's Not Unusual 433 Footloose 434 Here Comes Santa Claus 435 Happy Days Are Here Again / Get Happy 436 Help! 437 Greased Lightning 438 Hell To The No 439 All Out Of Love 440 (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman 441 Candles 442 All By Myself 443 Hello Goodbye 444 It's A Man's Man's Man's World 445 I Say A Little Prayer 446 It Must Have Been Love 447 Just Give Me A Reason 448 Come See About Me 449 Born To Hand Jive 450 I Want To Know What Love Is 451 I Wish 452 I'll Remember 453 Get It Right 454 (I've Had) The Time Of My Life 455 I'll Stand By You (Cory) 456 Forever Young 457 A Change Would Do You Good 458 Smile (Charlie Chaplin song) 459 Best Day Of My Life 460 An Innocent Man 461 Dreams 462 All About That Bass 463 Home (originally by Michael Bublé) 464 Black Or White 465 Baby 466 Bad 467 Problem 468 Oh Chanukah 469 What Kind Of Fool 470 Wings 471 You're My Best Friend 472 You're All I Need To Get By 473 White Christmas 474 Whenever I Call You Friend 475 Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' 476 What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger) 477 Wedding Bell Blues 478 More Than A Feeling 479 More Than A Woman 480 Our Day Will Come 481 P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) 482 Here's To Us 483 Honesty 484 Hall Of Fame 485 It's All Coming Back To Me Now 486 Teach Your Children 487 Night Fever 488 What The World Needs Now 489 Listen 490 Let Me Love You 491 Live While We're Young 492 Light Up The World 493 Trouty Mouth 494 Werewolves Of London 495 Kiss 496 Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas 497 Movin' Out (Anthony's Song) 498 Mickey 499 Mean 500 Mercy 501 Merry Christmas Darling 502 Let's Wait Awhile 503 Man In The Mirror 504 Rather Be 505 Rise 506 Good Vibrations 507 Faithfully 508 Firework 509 How Deep Is Your Love 510 Fix You 511 Fire And Rain 512 Give Your Heart A Break 513 Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree 514 Little Girls 515 Cry 516 Bust A Move 517 Bridge Over Troubled Water 518 Bring Him Home 519 Cheek To Cheek 520 Break Free 521 As Long As You're There 522 Big Ass Heart 523 Bitch 524 Bamboleo / Hero 525 Away In A Manger 526 Deck The Rooftop 527 Christmas Eve With You 528 Angels We Have Heard On High 529 Creep 530 Crush 531 Make No Mistake, She's Mine 532 Lose My Breath 533 Look At Me I'm Sandra Dee (Reprise) 534 What I Did For Love 535 Wake Me Up 536 Thousand Miles 537 Take A Bow 538 Still Got Tonight 539 The Music Of The Night 540 Stereo Hearts 541 The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late) 542 Take Me Or Leave Me 543 I'm The Only One 544 Isn't She Lovely 545 I Just Can't Stop Loving You 546 I'll Never Fall In Love Again 547 Unchained Melody 548 You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch 549 You Have More Friends Than You Know 550 You Should Be Dancing 551 I'm His Child 552 You Learn / You've Got A Friend 553 Somewhere 554 So Far Away 555 Uptown Funk 556 The Winner Takes It All 557 They Long To Be Close To You 558 Tonight 559 Being Good Isn't Good Enough 560 You May Be Right 561 To Love You More 562 Don't Wanna Lose You 563 Do You Hear What I Hear? 564 Ice Ice Baby 565 Don't Go Breaking My Heart 566 Don't Make Me Over 567 I Won't Give Up 568 I'll Be Home For Christmas 569 I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For 570 I Still Believe / Super Bass 571 I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me) 572 I Want You Back 573 Father Figure 574 Everybody Hurts 574 Gangnam Style 576 We Are The Champions 577 Stayin' Alive 578 Superman 579 The Rose 580 Don't Stop Believin' (Rachel) 581 Fly / I Believe I Can Fly 582 Gives You Hell 583 I Love L.A. 584 Mr. Roboto / Counting Stars 585 O Holy Night 586 Only The Good Die Young 587 One 588 Silent Night 589 Piano Man 590 Sexy And I Know It 591 Sgt. Pepper's Lonley Hearts Club Band 592 Pretending 593 Physical 594 Danny's Song 595 Stand 596 The Final Countdown 597 You Can't Always Get What You Want 598 You Are Woman, I Am Man 599 You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' 600 Your Song 601 Say 602 No Air 603 Need You Now 604 No Surrender 605 Piece Of My Heart 606 Thong Song 607 Blurred Lines 608 Another One Bites The Dust 609 I Was Here 610 Bella Notte 611 I Know What Boys Like 612 God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen 613 Glory Days 614 Friday 615 More Than Words 616 Waiting For A Girl Like You 617 Welcome Christmas 618 You Spin Me Round (Like A Record) 619 You Give Love A Bad Name 620 We Built This City 621 Whistle 622 Who Are You Now? 623 You And I / You And I 624 Take Care Of Yourself 625 Tell Me Something Good 626 The Rain In Spain 627 Can't Fight This Feeling 628 Jingle Bell Rock 629 In Your Eyes 630 Hello 631 Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life) 632 I Only Have Eyes For You 633 Jingle Bells 634 Joy To The World 635 I Wanna Sex You Up 636 Fight For Your Right (To Party) 637 Feliz Navidad 638 I'm So Excited 639 Uninvited 640 The Living Years 641 The Fox (What Does The Fox Say?) 642 O Christmas Tree 643 One Love (People Get Ready) 644 Ohio 645 Only Child 646 Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love 647 My Sharona 648 Dance The Night Away 649 Poison 650 My Cup 651 Not The End 652 What It Feels Like For A Girl 653 Listen To Your Heart 654 Little Drummer Boy 655 One Hand, One Heart 656 Bein' Green 657 Big Spender 658 Billionaire 659 Ben 660 Gimme More 661 Burning Up 662 Hey Ya! 663 Hey, Soul Sister 664 Baby Got Back 665 Blue Christmas 666 Bohemian Rhapsody 667 Far From Over 668 The Trolley Song 669 Starlight Express 670 Whip It 671 You're The Top 672 Red Solo Cup 673 Next To Me 674 Rolling In The Deep 675 Rainbow Connection 676 La Cucaracha 677 (You're) Having My Baby 678 A Little Less Conversation 679 Happy 680 Highway To Hell 681 Same Love 682 Rock Lobster 683 Girls Just Want To Have Fun

#glee #glee song ranking #ranking #my thoughts #mine #umm so funny story #well first of all some of the mash ups werent even together #like anyway you want it and lovin touchin squeezin #they were listed as their own songs #i thought they'd end up being closer but they arent and thats hilarious #also there's the scientist and then the scientist acoustic?? idk what that is #but they're close together #umm home by michael bubbles #it did not tell me what the song was #it literally said (michael buble version) or something #and i did not think to look it up until after my results #sooo... if i knew it was a rory song it would not be that high lmao #anyway as you can see it is a bit of a mess #but my top ten is really solid again<3 #oh also there was only one 'just the way you are'#so i chose to pretend it was the s5 version which is why its higher #than if i were pretending it were the s2 version

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swearwolf-writes · 4 years ago

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Sunset Curve not Sunset Straight (pt. 8)

It’s been a long day. Halloween is almost here and Flynn is raving.

“So we gotta get our costumes, matching, obviously. Oooh, maybe the boys can come as ghosts-!” She jumps up and down on Julie’s bed, it’s owner shaking her head. “They’re supposed to be from Sweden, remember?” “Oh, right.” She sat still, playing with Julie’s mic. “Your doodles are awesome - do the boys draw too?” Julie raises her eyebrows at her best friend, “Do you have a crush on them?” “Les-be honest,” Flynn wiggles her eyebrows, “you’re the only one with a crush on any of em.” Flynn still doesn’t know about Julie and Luke, Julie still trying to figure out how to tell her bestfriend that she’s dating a ghost.

“Julie has a crush?” Reggie saunters into the room and flops onto the bed next to them. “Do tell.” “I don’t have a crush!” She lightly pushes his shoulder, Flynn looking confused. “Which one-?” “Reggie’s here.” She points to the seemingly empty space on her bed, Reggie waving goodnaturedly despite the fact that Flynn still can’t see him. “He’s waving.” She grins and waves at thin air. The bassist turns back to Julie. “So what’s going on?” “Flynn here,” she gives the girl a pointed look, “thinks I have a crush on one of you guys. I told her I don’t-” Reggie and Flynn share a knowing look despite her not being able to see him. “-I mean isn’t there some sort of unofficial rule about bandmates dating?” “Boy, I hope not-” Julie blinks at him, slightly shocked. “Wait, did any of you guys date-?” He sits up, glancing between the girls suspiciously. “Are you winding me up or did you really not know?” “Know what?” “That they used to date.” Julie slowly moves her gaze over to Flynn. “Apparently Luke and Alex used to date?” Julie fills her in, the lesbian punching the air. “I called it!”

“Wait, you said used to? Why did they break up?” The girls stare at him expectantly, the boy raising his hands in defence of himself. “That is their business whether they tell you or not. But,” he jumps off the bed and moves towards the door, “I do have a bunch of polaroids from when they were dating.” She follows suit, grabbing Flynn’s hand and dragging her with them. “Lead the way!” “The way to where?” “Memory lane.” Julie grins and squeezes her hand, the girl not understanding her but going along with it anyways.

“Ta-da~!” Reggie brings the old box, down from the loft, setting it on their old table. Flynn creates a groove in the dust and wipes her dirty finger down in disgust. “This seems cool but my mom needed me home an hour ago. And remember, we’re matching this Halloween, alright? I’m thinking the creepy twins from The Shining. Or maybe we’ll be Ghost Busters.” “Hey!” Reggie complains to deaf ears as she smirks and walks out, waving goodbye. “I’ll think about it.”

She turns back to the pouting ghost and pats his knee. “We won’t bust you guys.” “I know, I know.” He shakes his head and turns back to the box, blowing the dust away as best as he can while Julie coughs in the background. “Pros of being dead: we don’t actually need to breathe so dust doesn’t make us cough either.” She continues coughing and glares at him, the boy quickly avoiding her gazing and opening the box.

“Aww, check these out.” He picks up some old pictures, smiling nostalgently. He shows them to Julie, watching as she smiles at the boys’ goofing off. “This is you guys and Trevor- Bobby?” “Yeah, Christmas, 1994.”

“All I want for Christmas is you~” Bobby sang along cheerfully to the song on the radio, taping mistletoe to the strings criss-crossed across the studio. The plant was all over the room, inescapable.

“Seriously, dude?” Luke walked into the studio, Alex and Reggie close on his heels. “If you’re gonna live in my garage, I get to decorate.” Alex groaned as Reggie whooped quietly, grabbing their camera and taking pictures of the bizarre décor. Bobby stopped the other boys in their tracks, pointing up above their heads. Mistletoe. “Seriously-” Alex stared at the rhythm guitarist with disbelief, only to be met with complete seriousness. The boys blushed as they met in a sweet kiss, Luke’s hand on Alex’s jaw, the taller boy resting his hand on the shorter’s waist. Bobby and Reggie cheered teasingly, the bassist capturing the moment in a picture.

“They were, like, together-together, huh?” “Bobby and I had a bet that they’d be engaged before they were 20.” Julie raises her eyebrows, cooing quietly. “And then you didn’t even live till 20.” Reggie side-eyes Julie goodnaturedly, gasping in mock-offence. “We died, Julie- that’s not something you joke about-” She raises her hands in defence, checking out the other pictures.

“Hey, you guys looked cute here.” She shows him a picture, the boys sat on Luke’s couch, Reggie taking a selfie with the four of them. They were grinning widely, Julie chuckling as she finds its sequel.

“Alright, I’m taking another-!” Reggie warned the band as he raised the polaroid camera. Bobby swung an arm over Alex’s shoulders, the quartet smiling brightly. “Say cheese!” Reggie took the picture, blushing brightly as Luke pressed a kiss to his cheek, the image holding that memory firmly.

Reggie flushes brightly as he spots the second image in Julie’s hand. He reaches over to try and take the picture from her hand, Julie jumping out of the way as she watches his reactions.

“Oh my God-!” “What?” “You have a crush on Luke!” The boy babbles unintelligibly as his cheeks grow hotter. “No, you have a crush on Luke!” He pulls an Uno reverse card from his pocket, Julie bursting out into laughter as she sees the card. “I mean, we’re dating so I guess you’re right - but I don’t deny it - unlike you.” He relents with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the nape of his neck. “So maybe I have a small crush on Luke-” Julie bounces on the balls of her feet, slapping his shoulder wildly. “Awesome!”

He looks at her strangely. “You’re not mad?” “Why would I be?” “You got there first?” She shakes her head and flops, graceful as always, next to him. “You got there in 1994 or 95 - you just didn’t know it.” Reggie opens his mouth to protest but quickly closes it as he realises he has nothing to say to that. “That…. is true. Fair enough.”

They sit in silence, flicking through photos, Julie glancing back up at her bandmate every now and again. “You gonna tell him?” He splutters and sets the pictures down, mussing his hair. “Absolutely not.” “Why not?” She crosses her arms, setting the old polaroids on the table. “Because he likes you.” “He’s poly-” “Which doesn’t necessarily mean he likes me.”, he pointed out. “But it means he might.” She pokes his stomach, Reggie snorting and paling suddenly.

Julie looks back at where he’s staring, spotting Luke standing by the door, Julie’s old ipod still playing music from the earphones dangling in his hand.

“Luke! Look, Julie, it’s Luke. Lukester, Lukiepoo, Luke-a-” Reggie’s impromptu rambling is cut off by Julie, her hand plastered over his mouth. “Been there, done that - not fun.” She mumbles at him, smiling widely at the singer. “Hey, Luke!” “Hey.” He walks into the garage and spots the pictures, grinning brightly. “Oh hey, it’s Christmas!” Reggie moves Julie’s hand from his mouth. “Uh, yeah, I might have told Julie that you and Alex used to date and showed her the polaroids.” “She already knew, dude.” He kneels on the floor and looks between the old pictures, smiling sadly at the pictures of the four boys. “No, I didn’t.” Luke looks up in surprise at the girl. “I swear I told you-” She shakes her head, avoiding the urge to smile. “Oh- well, Alex and I used to date.” She shares a look with Reggie, their affection for the ghost clear in their eyes. “Who’d’ve guessed?”

She reaches towards the table and knocks some of the pictures off. “Oops- Reggie, help me pick these up.” She sends a sweet smile Luke’s way, her heart fluttering when he sends one back, and pulls Reggie down by the elbow. Luke raises an eyebrow, one earphone in as he hums and keeps rifling through the images.

“Ow-!” He hisses quietly as he hits said elbow on the table. The pair face each other, confusion all over the poor boy’s face. “Sorry-” She winces and shakes her head, slowly picking the pictures. “You gotta tell him-” She whispers, the boy frantically shaking his head. “I can’t-” “What’s the worst that could happen?” “Easy for you to say - you know he likes you.” He looks around, seeing Luke’s jean-cladded knees shuffle around he continues, seemingly unaware of their conversation. “I can’t ruin things between us. We’re family and I can’t-” “You won’t lose him,” she puts a hand on his knee, looking up at him, “he used to date Alex, right?” The boy nods, busying himself with the fallen polaroids. “And they’re still good, right?” “That doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt each other-” He sighs as he picks up the last picture. It was one of Luke with his family, taken only a few weeks before he ran away.

He was kneeling with his dog, Zeppelin, his parents smiling brightly as he tried to get the dog to stay still. “Stay.” The dog behaved himself, Luke swinging one arm over his back. “Good boy.” “Smile!” Reggie lifted the camera, snapping the picture just as the dog gets excited and jumps up, knocking Luke over and licking his face. The teenager yelped in surprise, laughing as he tried to shift the large animal. Reggie took another two pictures of this scene, the first image probably coming out blurry.

He’d kept the blurred image, one of the non-blurry pictures given to Luke’s parents and the other to Luke. He could still hear the scene in his head. “Luke’s been through enough. I don’t wanna hurt him-”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” The pair jump up from under the table, Reggie this time hitting his head, the rest of the pictures falling off the table. “Fuck-!” He groans loudly, pressing his hand against his head. “I get that we’re sorta tangible now but that doesn’t mean I have to keep hurting myself!” He yells at no one in particular. Luke moves next to the whining boy, looking at his head. “You’re fine. And, y’know, not hurt.” He whips his head, ignoring the mild pain in his head as his cheeks flare bright red. “Did you just call me fine-?” “Yup.” He grins and picks up Julie’s black cat, making soft soothing noises and stoking her soft fur. “Even Melody agrees, Reggie’s pretty fine.” Said ghost looks between Luke, Julie and the cat wondering if they were playing an elaborate prank on him.

“What…. is going on?” He tilts his head, setting the pictures on the table and moving to pick the rest of the pictures. The singer looks at Julie as he tries to come up with an explanation, scratching lightly behind Melody’s ears. “I might have been eavesdropping?” Reggie groans and covers his face, shuffling the images in his hands nervously. “How much did you hear-?” “Like all of it-” “God-” He puts the pictures down on the table, looking up at Luke who gave the cat to Julie.

“Look-” Reggie starts only to have Luke cut him off. “Can I actually go first-?” Reggie bites his lip anxiously, looking over to Julie who gives him a thumbs up. He smiles and nods at him, Luke sitting in front of him, their legs crossed.

“I like you. Have since ‘93 - I didn’t realise till I was dating Alex and so tried to push it out of mind. I didn’t know poly was a thing till now and I know now that I like my very awesome girlfriend,” he smiles shyly as he thinks of her, “and I like our very awesome bassist.” Reggie blinks at him in disbelief. Luke frowns and looks back at Julie who shrugs. He waves a hand in front of his face, Reggie jerking back instinctually. “You good, dude?” He just gapes, red spreading further over his ears. “My crush of two years just said he’s liked me for 3- This-”, he gestures vaguely at the group, “this isn’t possible-” “Is it really that hard to believe?” Julie raises her eyebrows at him from the couch. “That Luke Patterson has a crush on me? Yes.” “Why? You’re hot, you play at least three instruments and can read Shakespeare off the top of your head.” Reggie freezes. “You called me hot-” “Yes, Reggie. Y’see, I have these things called eyes- I get that yours don’t work as well as most people’s-” “Oh, come on; I haven’t worn glasses since I was like 15-” “That doesn’t mean you don’t need them-” “We’re dead, man. I’m pretty sure I don’t need them- or do I-?” They sit in silence as they ponder their afterlife, Julie watching her dummies.

She coughs, drawing their attention towards her. She motions towards the two of them, the pair blushing as they remember their conversation. Julie sighs and lets Melody go, marching towards them with her hands on her hips. The boys lean back, slightly intimidated. “Luke, you like Reggie?” “Yes.” “And Reggie, you like Luke?” “Yeah.” “Luke, do you wanna date Reggie?” The latter looks up at her in surprise. “Definitely.” Reggie stares at the ghost, pleasantly surprised. “Reggie, d’you wanna date Luke?” “Yes?” “Good - you are now dating. Congratulations.”

Reggie stares blankly at the girl. “Wait, what-?” “What what?” “That’s that? We’re suddenly dating now?” “Pretty much.” She nods and smiles happily, chuckling at Luke’s excited grin. “I have a girlfriend and boyfriend- awesome!” He gazes at the pair of them softly, Reggie giggling happily. “I have a boyfriend-” The pair beam at him. “My first boyfriend. Wicked!” He smiles brightly as Alex and Willie walk in.

“Finally!” Alex stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets, shaking his head at them. “I’ve been watching you two pine over each other for years.” “I wouldn’t say years-” Reggie attempts to defend them. “I would.”

Willie sits next to Julie and watches the exchange, taking his notebook out and tapping the table to let her know he’s there. “Hey Willie.” “Hey Jules.”, he says, writing it onto the pad, adding a smiley face.

“And we weren’t ‘pining’.” Luke backs up his boyfriend, Reggie nodding in support. “Are you kidding me- You look at each other like that cat from Shrek-” Melody hisses at the word cat before returning to grooming herself on top of Julie’s piano. Alex narrows his eyes at the cat. “Gremlin-” “Don’t be mean to my baby-” She tosses one of Luke’s shirts at him, the boy just watching as it passes through him. “Your ‘baby’ is mean-” He grumbles, sitting next to Willie.

“So how was your date?” Willie smiles brightly, lightly nudging the blond with his shoulder. “We went to the old Ghost Club and smoked weed mostly - no clue why but eating and stuff, still possible there, even without Caleb.” Willie talks and writes for Julie, Alex hiding his face in his cap. “There may have been some graffiti involved-” “Alex? Our straight-laced, trustworthy Alex broke the law?” Luke looks between the two ghosts, impressed but in complete disbelief. “Technically, the law doesn’t actually apply to us anymore. So, no, he did not.” “Alright, Alex! Welcome to the dark side; we break the rules and look good doing it.” Reggie pats his knee, groans escaping from behind the hat. He sweeps his hair back and puts the cap on, Willie staring at him with adoration in his eyes. “What-” “You’re cute.” “I’m-” The flustered boy takes a, technically unnecessary, breath. “Okay-” Willie giggles quietly at the pink flourishing across his boyfriend’s face, Luke, Reggie and Julie sharing a look.

Luke nods towards the door and the trio leave the couple to themselves. “So, they’re adorable.” Reggie remarks as soon as they’re out of earshot. “Right?” Luke walks backwards, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sleeveless hoodie. “Like, I can’t even see Willie and I can still tell they’re meant for each other.” Julie tucks a curl behind her ear, talking animatedly with Reggie, Luke watching them with a soft grin on his face. ‘My girlfriend and boyfriend - awesome!’

#fics - sunset curve not sunset straight #my works #jatp #jatp fanfic #alex jatp #reggie jatp #luke patterson #jatp flynn #julie molina #willie jatp #luke x julie #luke x reggie #luke x alex #alex x willie #willex #juke #lalex #ruke

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meowdymista · 5 years ago

Text

The Love Spoon (A You-tensil)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Notes: Title sounds more provocative than it is. I tried to write it as a Charles x Arthur, but it came out better in first person. Fluff

~ NOW ON AO3! ~

“What are you doing?”

Arthur all but jumps out of his skin, colour rising in his cheeks. “Nothing,” he says a little too quickly.

You dismiss the secrecy. It doesn’t worry you, merely piques your interest a little. Usually it’s his journal he’s so protective over, but the knife in his hand and the shavings of bark in the grass suggest he has found another outlet.

“Mind if I sit here?”

He looks at the space beside him on the salt bleached log and shakes his head, hiding his eyes beneath the rim of the worn gambler’s hat he favours. “‘Course not. Free country.”

“Not for fellas with bounties,” you tease, and he chuckles, returning to his work.

You let the silence stretch, breathing in the cool breeze sweeping in over Flat Iron Lake and listening to the bird song. The coffee in your hand is too bitter and thin for your taste, but you continue to sip it stoically, knowing you’ll suffer later if you don’t.

“Much planned today?”

You sigh and struggle to smother the smirk tugging its way to the surface. “Fixin’ that wagon you and Mrs Adler took to town.”

He tuts. “They don’t build ‘em like they used to, a’right?”

You hum into your tin cup, wincing at the flavour. “Don’t know what magical wagon you used to drive. S’far as I can tell, they’re making them same as ever.”

Laughing, you let him land a gentle punch to your upper arm before taking the opportunity to stretch with a long groan.

“Guess I’ll catch you later.” He tips his hat at you with a small smile as you turn back into camp to begin chores.

***

“What the hell is it, Morgan?”

You shake your head, draining the last of the stew from the bowl. Sometimes it was a wonder the Pinkerton’s weren’t just listening out for Bill’s brawdy boasting or Dutch’s eloquent enunciations of faith to track them down. You toss your dish and spoon into the tub and look back out across to the sunset. A lone canoe drifts over the still surface, leaving a V of ripples in its wake. Whilst you appreciated the peace and quiet of this somewhat more remote camp, you worried for potential enemies eavesdropping from all manner of directions, especially as some members of camp had more than made themselves at home.

“It don’t matter what it is, I already told yer, it’s not for you!”

“Then why the hell you bring it over here? And what the hell’s it for?”

“Mind your damn business!”

“Gentlemen! What seems to be the problem?” Hosea’s tranquility smoothes over the tension.

You’re torn between conceding to your curiosity and keeping your distance from the drama until it’s cooled off. You glance over to your tent and inadvertently catch Arthur’s eye. You look away quickly, taking a deep breath as your cheeks fill with colour. It’s not what you think it means, you tell yourself, repeating your internal mantra. It's a coincidence. Let your head guide your heart. Don’t chase daydreams. It’s not what you think it means.

You watch the canoe disappear behind the trees. No man ever got out of the woods on his heart alone. You need to listen to logic.

You look back, but Arthur’s back is to you. As it should be, you reason as you walk over to the campfire, denying any intent to eavesdrop to yourself.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Wh-What do you think it is?”

“A spoon carved from basswood!” Hosea laughed. “Didn’t you used to have one like this? Your mother’s, if I’m not mistaken?”

He grunts as Bill splutters. “Ain’t gonna do much eatin’ with that, Morgan! It’s almost flat! You’d be better off eatin’ off a butter knife!”

“It ain’t for eatin’ with!” he snaps, snatching it out of Hosea’s hands and turning on his heel. “It’s stupid. Forget it.”

Bill cries out as Hosea’s hand makes contact with the back of his head. “You drunken oaf. Read a room why don’t you!”

“Read a room?” Bill blusters. “I ain’t seen four walls since that bank job-”

You push yourself to your feet and track him down with ease. He has stormed off towards the treeline and stopped by his horse, leaning his elbows on the saddle patting the mare’s neck distractedly. He throws the item towards the shore in a fit of frustration and pulls himself up onto his mare with a huff. You’re too close in the clearing to be able to hide when he looks straight at you, but despite stiffening in surprise, he yanks the reins to lead his horse out of camp without looking back.

You wait until you’re sure you’re alone before stalking out to the grass, looking for whatever it is that Arthur threw. It takes a while, but eventually you find it.

It’s a rough whittled spoon. On closer inspection, you can see the detail scratched into it and where he’s tried to sand the edges to smooth them. The lip of the spoon is, as Bill stated, too shallow for much use, but the handle is intricate and suggests it’s purely a decorative piece. The wood winds into itself, plaiting itself awkwardly up to the head of a stag. You walk it back to camp carefully, keeping it out of sight in the fold of your shirt. Finding a quiet space near the first aid cart, you study it closer. The handle is not carved with plaits as first surmised, but a feather. The detail is exquisite. It fans out near the top, like a peacock feather, but instead of the target or eye, it blossoms with the angular snout of a stag, it’s antlers stretching up above.

Arthur couldn’t have finished this today. You think back and realise you have seen him asking Sean to teach him to whittle, asking Hosea how best to carve details. No wonder he snapped at Bill - the time he must have spent on this… and for it to be made from a singular piece of wood with no mistakes...

In your lapse of attention, Hosea has crept up on you.

“You found it then?”

“I suppose so.” You straighten up and hold it out for him to examine in the light. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

“Arthur has never done anything by halves.” He chuckles and presses it back into his hands. “D’you know, when we first met him, he had something like this in his pocket. Said his grandmother had given it to his mother as a gift on her engagement. Something like a love spoon? It’s some sort of British tradition, I think. His was lost after the stables we were sleeping in caught fire. Lost a few possessions to that fire, sleeping bags included, but that was one of the few things that couldn’t be replaced.”

You murmur a few words of wonder and Hosea shrugs. “I’ve never found much on it in the way of literature about them. I’ve tried asking John, Sean, Molly, Mac, Davey... and many other Brits we’ve picked up along the way, but no one seems familiar with it. It’s like it lived and died with his family.”

You leave him to his musings and carefully carry the spoon back to your tent. Taking some cotton from a torn shirt (damn Night folk and their knives) you wrap it gently and leave it on the cabinet at his bedside to find later.

You don't hear him return that night. You wake from a dreamless sleep, thinking of the day ahead as you pour yourself some coffee and look out across the horizon. With a twist of your heart, you recognise the silhouette on the same log as yesterday, and hesitantly make your way over.

"Morning."

Arthur looks up at you and gives you a small smile. "Morning."

You sit down besides him and together you rest in comfortable silence. Eventually Arthur holds out the remains of your shirt and you accept it with a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Thanks for… for finding it for me." He moves the spoon between his hands, turning it over, embarrassed. "It's stupid, I know."

"I don't think it's stupid." The morning light has made his pupils retract enough for you to see the essence of green in his irises. "It's a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. I've never seen anything like it."

"Nah, the one my mother had was better."

"Hosea told me about that." You slide your hand out to close the gap between you. "Said you lost it in a fire?"

He sighs heavily. "Yeah." His lips thin as he thinks hard. You give him the space, finishing the last of your coffee which is a little better than yesterday’s. Eventually he takes a deep breath and turns to you, his eyes scouring your face for any signs of repulsion or amusement at his expense. You mirror him, keeping your face as neutral as you can.

“My… my taid - or my grandfather - gave one of these to my nain. It’s… it’s a traditional gift we used to give to each other as a token of appreciation. My grandfather gave it to my grandmother when they got engaged, and she gave it to my mother before they came to America.”

You nod slowly. “Was it a cultural thing?”

“Yeah. We didn’t have a lot of money, so this was something you could make to show… well show how much you cared, I guess.”

He holds the elegant utensil out to you, a blush creeping over his cheeks.

“I had a look at it last night. It’s beautiful, Arthur. The detail… it must have taken you weeks to carve.”

“About two months in total.” He rubs the back of his neck with a grimace. “It took me a few tries to get it right.”

“The care you’ve put into it… It’s really something.”

“I, err, made it for you.”

You manage to catch your jaw before it hits your lap, but the colour is already flooding your face without abandon. “Are you sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure. Unless you don’t want it? It’s stupid, I know-”

“But- why? Why me?” You let your fingertips trace the grooves of the feather and slide over the smooth antlers. “Don’t you want to keep it?”

“I made it for you,” he repeats, his bottom lip disappearing as he chews it. “It won’t be any good for eatin’ with, but-”

“Neither are your sketches, but that doesn’t mean they lack value.” A laugh escapes you as you reach out and squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Arthur. This is… wow!”

He peaks out from under his hat, a smile pulling at his lips at your reaction. “You mean a lot to me. It’s the least I could do.”

You’re leaning forward unconsciously, like he is the centre of gravity. Your heart thuds as you realise he’s also teetering towards you.

“A thank you would have sufficed!”

He scoffs, his gaze softening. “You know what I mean.”

It’s not what you think it means.

His breathing is unsteady as it brushes your face. You can feel the warmth of his hand gliding up your back as he closes the gap and gently presses a chaste kiss against your lips.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption fic #Arthur Morgan x Reader #arthur x reader #meowdymista

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vincent-frankenstein · 5 years ago

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ADHD sides hcs :3c

self projection time? self projection time

feel free to add ur own hcs onto this im jus usin my own experiences here

startin w PATTON

emotional regulation? who’s she? patton only knows feeling emotions with Every Single Atom in his body so powerfully he might one day Explode

if he’s happy hes HAPPY!!!!! it’s like his body fills with light and he’s walking 2 feet off the ground and nothing could go wrong — and then whoops, something goes wrong, and wh o o ps, hes crying, whoops —

has a million stuffed animals sitting aLL around the house so he always has something to Squeeze

Squeezing is a good stim dont @ me

he throws his whole body into stimming

flapping, bouncing, jumping, spinning — his body must be moving at all times or he will die

starting things is. Very very hard for him. executive dysfunction hits DEEP and he’s just,,, paralyzed. he wants to do the thing!!! he really does!!! his brain just Wont Let Him

logan used to get very frustrated with him but then patton like, explained how it felt and a little lightbulb went off in logan’s head

“patton, I think you have adhd.”

“... i’m guessin that doesn’t mean im a-delightful-hip-dad?”

then they did some Research together and put together a plan to help patton work around executive dysfunction and, it works, sometimes

when it doesnt, logan makes hot cocoa and sits with him

AUDITORY. PROCESSING. PROBLEMS.

“Hey, Pat, what’s for dinner?” “huh?” “I said, what’s for —” “meATloaf”

hearing is an uphill struggle so sometimes he just Signs instead but a lot of the time he gets so excited about what he’s trying to say he just dissolves into flapping halfway through the sentence

lots of hyperfixations !!!! so many !!! he cycles through em one after another suuuuper quickly

he never forgets a hyperfixation, and the mention of ANY old hyperfixations will have him cry-flapping

roman: hey did u know they’re making another phineas and ferb movie -

patton, vibrating intensely and sobbing, .5 seconds away from launching into orbit: theYR E MAKING A WHAT

ROMAN

singing is his absolute FAVORITE STIM

that moment where u reach a point in a song where ur chest just, Swells and u can feel ur voice Vibrating ? yeah

sometimes Does Not warm up beforehand bc ??? he has No Choice but to sing along to certain songs and he cant always control when they come on so his voice sometimes gets Very Raspy from belting without warmups

aside from that twirling and doing Ballet Poses are also very good stims. he stick his leggy out Real Far mmhm

roman: *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt fin

his room is a MESS and NO he will NOT clean it LOGAN he has a SYSTEM

he doesnt have a system and the mess stresses him out to no end but he has one (1) braincell and it’s dedicated to Starting Projects And Not Finishing Them so

needs validation to survive

like legit if he doesnt get validation he will DIE

on the flip side, if he gets any sort of rejection, he will also Die

logan: so I read through your latest script, and the idea is solid. We can definitely work with this. I did notice one oddly structured sentence so I fixed that for you —

roman: so you basically hate it and i should die

rejection sensitive dysphoria is the one villain he has yet to figure out how to slay

contrary to what u might think, he keeps his hyperfixations Very close to his heart. he doesnt think he would survive it if one of the others were to criticize them

the one exception to this rule: disney.

you cant look at this boy and tell me hes not hyperfixated on disney i mean did you s E E him in that one ep cmon

he will ramble about disney to anyone who will listen for hours. days, even, if you give him the opportunity. infodumping about disney is like injecting pure sunlight right into his bloodstream; by the end of it he’s glowing

once, after accepting anxiety, virgil and roman ended up in another debate about the Meanings of disney movies, but this time it was friendly, and by the end of it roman had gotten to ramble about each and every one of his favorite movies and he had never been happier

it was the first time virgil ever saw him Flap

they still get together to talk disney sometimes

VIRGIIIIL

virgil: *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while liste

like roman, Music is virgil’s main stim, but he prefers to just. Move. bouncin his leg and drumming his hands in the air and shaking his head etc etc

it takes. literally foreVER for him to trust the others enough to stim around them. music is his main comfort but, for a Long Time, he wouldnt let himself listen to it when the others were around, just bc he knew he’d want to stim and he couLDNT bc what if he got juDGED

but then one day roman starts singing and patton jumps up and starts spinning and virgils like “???” and logans like “that’s how they stim” and virgils like “!!!!”

he Tappy Leg Real Fast

he also has a string of beads he carries everywhere to twist around his fingers bc bead,,, Good Texture

he struggles with rsd just as badly as roman, but he shows it in a Different Way

roman hurts, but hes an actor. he’s not about to invite more rejection by letting them know how much their words hurt! no no no, he keeps up the bravado until hes back in his room and then he breaks

but virgil. the rsd hits and its like, a physical blow to his chest and he crumples, wilting in on himself, and the world around him just sorta, ebbs away. for virgil, rsd is static

after AA the others start to learn his Signs for when hes feeling Bad™ so whenever he shrinks away they’ll stop the conversation and talk him through his insecurities until he feels better

SPOOKY HYPERFIXATIONS ALL THE WAY

went to Halloween Horror Nights one (1) time and now listens to the music on repeat and just. stims for hours

also hes in love with austin gumbam from academy of villains me? self projecting? never

knows Every Obscure Fact from Every Horror Movie Ever and the urge to infodump is Consntantly at the forefront of his mind but he Never Does

unless someone gives him permission

virgil: oh? chucky? thats a. cool movie. did you know that — uh. nvm

logan: no no, go on

virgil, vibrating at a speed that could shatter glass: iF YOU INSIST-

LOGAN,,,,

this bitch is just as bad at Emotional Regulation as patton

hes just better at hiding it

that little stunt w the paper in lntao? he is Constantly .5 seconds away from going apeshitt. that was just A Glimpse into the chaos

he’s just,,,, very very bad at Identifying what he’s feeling. patton hid his feelings from the others, but he still knew what he was feeling, and he knows how to identify emotions

logan, on the other hand?

logan: passion and anger are both Hot. they must be The Same Thing

patton: i. i mean. not really

logan: goddamnit

patton: logan? are you crying?

logan, touching his cheek and finding Tears: hm. tragic. and here i thought i was “happy”

he’d much rather just,,, Not feel but thats not an option bc he still feels things intensely, he just doesnt know What he’s feeling most of the time

quiet stims. he runs his hands along the fabric of his tie, feeling the grooves of the stitches, and readjusts his glasses constantly. if he’s feelin extra wild, he’ll even pull out his rubix cube and solve and re-solve it without even looking

LOTS of obscure hyperfixations

he has so many books on so many different subjects,,,, his room is more of a library than a bedroom and thats just the way he likes it

throwback to that one time he hyperfixated on reptiles and thomas’ little “slimy boy” outburst had him chasing deceit around the mindscape trying to feel his scales “FOR SCIENCE”

memory. problems.

he HATES hates hates hates the fact that things slip his mind so easily. hence, the notebook, and the daily planner, and the deluge of postits hanging around his bedroom

it frustrates him to no end especiaLLY when he forgets important information in front of thomas

patton watches out for the signs of Frustration and brings logan a cup of tea later than day and helps him sort through the Mess of notes on his desk to catalogue the Important Info

just let logan and patton be adhd buds @god bls i beggeth

but when he does remember The Information and thomas praises him? effervescent

logan, after thomas called him cool, kicking down pattons door: I FINALLY KNOW WHAT HAPPINESS TRULY FEELS LIKE

patton: hey! cool your jets there, kiddo!

logan:

patton: :3c

logan, turning around: neveRMIND

patton: nO WAI T-

the day thomas called him cool was the first time he ever Flapped

#patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #adhd #sanders sides hcs #celeste's portfolio #woop w o o p #very Basic™ but im jus like. throwing some of My Experiences at the sides and seein what sticks so #out of this im like. mostly patton n roman #espe c I A LLY roman's singing stim my voice is SHOT rn bc ive been singing nonstop without warming up #adhd sides #legit pls add onto this !!!! i wanna see what experiences Others have

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blizzardfluffykpop · 5 years ago

Text

Fifteen Minutes

Summary: Who knew that seeing a concert would lead to getting chased by the police and ending up with a girl’s number?

Seulgi X Female!Reader

[Based on The Last One Out of Beach City Steven Universe episode and the song Fifteen Minutes by Mike Krol featured in the episode]

Hanging out with my two best friends on the weekend is normal. I’m always the designated driver because they have been in one too many wrecks with me in the car. I’m the goody-goodie driver, but they meet me after my street racing days. I got caught by the cops too many times, yet I still own the same car. The old Nissan 240SX S14, she looks more like a grandmother car with the color I painted her but that’s the best type of camouflage. But with all the upgrades I had invested into her over the years, she’s built for drifting and not grocery-getting.

Nowadays I follow the rules, haven’t heard a police siren for years. We go to a convenience store and grab some snacks. Because Soo-Young wants to go to an underground punk rock concert. Wendy immediately agreed that it was a good way for us to all get out and have a good time. “Plus you need to have more fun, (Y/n)!” I rolled my eyes but my old crust pants don’t lie. Instead of wearing my normal get up of something pastel and cute. My friends dressed me in my old punk rock clothes. Now here we are, I let them pick out a few things while grabbing a bag of gummy bears.

I open up a water bottle and take a swig from it after I pay for everything. Then she walks in, no way, she looks like a girl I used to date before she moved across the country. I spit out some of my water, quickly wiping it off with my jacket. Hoping neither Wendy or Soo-Young saw that: they did. “Go up to her and talk to her!” Soo-Young encourages me, and I nod, faking my confidence. When I get up next to her my body goes ‘oh god we’re gay’ and starts panicking. And yes that does mean I knocked over a stack of styrofoam cups. She giggles at me before going to the counter, I clean up my mess with a bright red face.

When we get into my car I put my head on the steering wheel and groan. “Aw it’s okay,...” Wendy tells me. I put it into reverse and drive us towards the concert venue. That’s when Wendy lets out an exaggerated sigh, “Did anyone else think that looked like the girl in (Y/n)’s photo album? Or was it just me!” I groan again, “Yes! That’s why I panicked!” Soo-Young laughs, “You know that makes so much sense.” I roll my eyes, “Remember who I was just talking about, well, she’s driving a motorcycle and she’s coming up next to us!” My eyes go wide as I look into my rear view mirror, “What?!” Wendy nods, and there she is.

“Okay don’t look over yet, I’ll help you through this!” I nod, and Soo-Young tells me, “Look over now!” And as I do the girl with the bright orange hair smiles at me. I go redder than a tomato, and just like that she’s in front of me and makes the green light. The light turns red before I even have a chance to run the yellow. “That’s too bad, a girl like that only comes around once in a lifetime.” I nod, “I’m sure we’ll see her at the show.” Soo-Young shakes her head at me, “A girl like that knows about a bazillion other underground shows.” I don’t have time to wait for this red light then. With that thought I slam my foot on the gas, I have to see her again.

As I speed towards her, I think how thankful I am that this doesn’t have any turn offs. Because it’s a big hill that ends in the next city. That’s when I hear the police sirens, I gulp, “(Y/N)! YOU NEED TO PULL OVER!” Wendy cries out from the backseat, the look of fear in my eyes is evident, “I didn’t renew my driver’s license though!” I say with a slight shake of fear when it hits me that I can outrun them. “You’re a good citizen, we’ll talk them out of a ticket.” Soo-Young says with a gulp, I smirk, I guess it’s time to show them my hidden talents. “Don’t worry about it!” I exclaim, turning up the radio, as I slam on the gas shifting it down to deal with the decline of the hill. As we approach the first major curve I slam on the brakes, my tires screeching and smoking as I hit the next curve just as hard. I pass the girl I was chasing on the motorcycle and speed down the hill. Wendy and Soo-Young holding onto their seats tightly as I take the curves fast and hard. The police car having a hard time keeping up, that car was never made for drifting. Just for powerslides and looking ugly I think as I see the big billboard for the next city.

I spin us around and behind the sign, turning off the engine and lights. Thank god it’s night time, the cop finally catches up and speeds past the sign. I let out a sigh, and try to start the car again, “Oh my god, I can’t believe my car won’t start.” I groan, “I”m sorry guys, I shouldn’t have done that--” “What! THAT WAS SO COOL AND FUN!” I look down with my eyes wide, and see it’s out of gas, “Where’s the nearest gas station?” I ask softly, “22 miles from here.” I sigh, “But now we can’t go to the concert,…” Soo-Young shrugs and pats my back, “We could always walk downtown to see if we can find it.” I nod and throw my jacket into the car before locking it. We walk through the bushes and down into a residential area to see colorful lights.

“We made it!” Wnedy let’s out excitedly!” We make ourselves to the edge of the driveway and we groove out for a little. That’s when Wendy says, “Look, there’s that girl!” I gasp, no way, “You already proved you were cool, you don’t have to go over there and talk to her!” Wendy tells me, worried about me. I shrug and walk over towards her, “You’re here for the show too?” I ask her, and she nods, “Just trying to get out of the house” I laugh, “Yeah, aren’t we all,... It’s been a long time in quarantine.” She laughs, “Yeah, I like how you styled your hair.” She tells me, “I like your hair color. They say the color orange means you’re bubbly and sweet.” She giggles before putting a note in my hand, “I’ll let you find out for yourself” and walks over into the crowd.

When I make my way toward the group my mouth is agape. “I-I-I- I got,... I-oh my god!” Wendy gently pats my back, telling me to take my time, “How did it go?” Soo-Young asks excitedly. I grin, “I got her number!” Soo-Young elbows Wendy, “I told you!” I laugh, “What you guys talk about?”

---

I finally get up the guts to text her the next day, “Hey I’m that girl you met at the concert, I’m (Y/n).” She texts back almost immediately, “I’m Seulgi.” Before I can even reply to her she texts me again, “Let’s grab some coffee at Panera Bread so I can see your beautiful face again.” Oh god, I wish I was a confident gay like she is. I tell Soo-Young what’s happening and she helps me dress nicely.

Needless to say, but that date led to many more, which led to holding hands and kissing in public. To riding on the back of her motorcycle, and me taking her drifting. To say the least when it comes to her my heart is on my sleeve. Or to put it in a better way, in her hands, “Babe, I’m home!” That’s her now, God I love her.

Wendy and Soo-Young could not believe me when I told them that she asked me to be her girlfriend. They called her up and she laughed, “I’m Seulgi, and yeah I asked (Y/n) to be my girlfriend, cause she’s cute, beautiful and funny.” I blush and wave at her from behind the two of them, she laughs and waves back. My friends introduce themselves and talk to her acting like they were my protectors.

I run downstairs and throw my arms around her and hug her. “I love you” She grins and kisses my nose, “I love you too, I brought home cookies from work.” I raise my eyebrow, “What’s the occasion?” She shrugs, “Just wanted to show my girlfriend how much I love her.” She places the plate down and I unwrap them, and they have words written on ‘em. “I love you with all my heart, I’m so glad I get to come home to you and call you mine.” I giggle, “You’re too cute, I’m glad I get to call you mine too. I love you too, Baby.” She grins, “Let’s kick back and watch a movie together, and eat these cookies of course.” I kiss her cheek and we finish off our day like that. Five months in and I know she’s the one,...

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sabraeal · 5 years ago

Text

Through the Wringer

Go For Broke | Previous

Obiyuki AU Bingo Mystery AU

“So let me get this straight.” Suzu heaves a sigh like a pair of cement shoes, nose pinched between a pair of fingers so long and spindly that if he moved them together with the other eight, spiders would start jawing on about his fine set of gams. “You just...gave her the paper.”

“Gave is a strong word.” Obi kicks his heels up, dirt crumbling right onto the placard that reads SUZU EASON, ADJUNCT. “I showed her the stuff, and she took ‘em.”

Right out of his hands too, so quick he’d hardly had time to blink. That Nowakoski girl had some fight to her, that’s for sure.

“And by ‘she,’ you mean our murderess,” Suzu snips, waving his hands. “Get your boots off my desk! This is-- this is an academic institution, not some-- some speakeasy or something.”

He slants his smirk the way he knows will drive his favorite almost-professor crazy. “They don’t let you do it at bars either.”

“Then I cannot fathom why you think you can do this here, to my very own desk!” Suzu frowns down at the worn desktop, running his fingers over the grooves of the hundred despairing adjuncts that came before. “I just got the thing, Obi, I want to keep it nice for at least a little while.”

He gives it to him, dropping his soles back down to the dirt. The egghead looks like he could use the break.

“And stop smiling!” Suzu huffs, brushing the clay and gravel off after him. “You just let a murderess take our only proof that Kain Wisteria may have died of something other than an unlucky break in Amiens.”

Obi waggles a finger at him “You’ve been hanging around that fussy grouch box and his rocks, haven’t you?”

Suzu puffs up, using all six foot, four inches of him to be just as intimidating as Raggedy Andy. “Professor Lata is a tenured professor.”

Obi doesn’t have the heart to tell him that’s not as impressive to all the non-eggheads outside.

“And he’s the geology chair,” he continues, as if that’s helping matters. “So his opinion--”

“Ah.” Obi fishes a wrapper out of the trash, the spicy scent of hot pastrami still thick on the air. “He bought you lunch.”

Suzu deflates, eyes skittering away from Obi’s grin. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Seems to me like you’re taking pages out of his book,” he says as Suzu snatches the paper out of his hands, crumpling it back down into the trash. “Being a real grouch, I mean.”

“I’m not-- I’m not being grouchy!” he hisses, mouth pulled thin. “Do you know how much trouble I could get into for all this? You told me this would just be a little favor and now--” he throws up his hands-- “I didn’t even ask Shidan for permission! We’re sitting on a-- a ticking time bomb of a theory that you just gave to a murderer.”

“Oh come on.” He shrugs beneath the weight of his trench. “She didn’t kill anyone.”

Suzu’s as pale as they come in this city, so it’s a real light show when he gets hot and bothered. Which he is right now, if Obi can tell his colors.

“And which head made that deduction?” he grits out. “I’ve practically staked my career on this-- by accident-- and now our only proof is in the hands of--”

“Hey.” A head sticks around the corner, wearing a face so cute someone could slap it on a doll and it’d sell like hotcakes. “So this is where you’re hiding out.”

“Oh!” Suzu presses a hand to his chest, clutching at the cotton of his button-down. “It’s just you, Yuzuri. Can you tell Obi that he can’t just--”

“I’m not here to get involved in your lover’s quarrel.” Her hands hook on her hips, right where her sweater meets the swell of a decent pair of hips. “Shake a leg, mister. You’re needed down in reception.”

Suzu blinks. “Wha?”

Yuzuri’s mouth purses, sour, accentuated by the vibrant blush of her lipstick. Most earthly creatures could only aspire to be in Haki Arluleon’s league, but the department’s secretary certainly comes closer than most. “Kihal Guerreiro is down there reenacting Sunrise Over Okinawa.”

Obi tilts his chair back, mind grinding through his memories like a freight train through a signal gate. “Isn’t that the one where the girl burns down--”

“Sure is.” She fixes Suzu with a glare. “And it’s your fault.”

Ah, the girl’s got spunk. No wonder Suzu’s so stuck on her.

The aforementioned adjunct gapes. “M-me? I’ve never met her in my life! I don’t know anyone famous!”

Yuzuri cocks her hip in a way that clearly says, yeah, pull the other one, too.

“Okay, well,” he hedges, “I did see Rita Hayworth having an ice cream once. But that’s it, I promise!”

“I don’t care if you saw Hedy Lemarr dancing naked on Rodeo,” she snaps. “That woman is down there kicking up a real fuss because of you.”

Suzu goes whiter than a sheet that’s shook hands with Clorox. “You haven’t-- you haven’t told Shidan, have you?”

She barks out a laugh. “I didn’t have to. She’s down there reading him the riot act as we speak.”

“Oh.” Obi’s seen poltergeists with more solidity than this post-doc. “Oh no.”

“So you better get down there lickity-split,” Yuzuri tells him, “or else I’ll tell her where you live.”

She turns on her heel, real neat, like some of the flyboys did in their birds, showing off that long seam up that back of her nylons before she slams the door behind her, hard enough to rattle a diploma off the wall.

“Oh hell,” Suzu breathes, hands digging runnels through his hair. “Oh hell, I’m in for it now.”

“You know,” Obi muses, gaze lingering on the door. “I like that dame.”

Suzu sighs. “You would.”

Reception’s never been a quiet place; the secretaries are always typing away like gunfire, writing up the department’s next magnum opus or fielding calls that have them cradling their receiver like another appendage, but today it’s certainly, well--

Louder.

“Listen here, Mister.” The words ring off the walls like an air raid siren, spoken from the diaphragm with true talent. “My friend has been calling your office for days, and she hasn’t heard from a single person who can give her an answer for this.”

Obi rounds the corner just in time to see Tinsel Town’s rising star shove a paper right into the professor’s chest, blue eyes blazing with a fire that would put Dresden to shame.

She’s dynamite up close; an Amazon straight off the isle with the stilettos she’s wearing, staring Shidan straight in the eye without having to crane her neck. Every inch of her is as dangerous as the femme fatales that have made her a household name, but still--

He’s hardly paying attention to her. Hard to, when her shadow’s got hair so red it practically blazes.

“My apologies, Miss Guerreiro,” Shidan soothes blandly, gaze hooded with the kind of weariness only a chair could muster. “I would normally be happy to answer any questions one of the public may ask, however--” his mouth pulls thin-- “I wasn’t even aware that one of my fellows had undertaken such an investigation.”

Suzu stiffens beside him, knuckles white where they grip the corner. “Well,” he breathes, backing away. “That’s my cue--”

“Why look.” Shidan’s gaze snaps over his shoulder, fixing Suzu as thoroughly as formaldehyde. “Here’s my fellow now. Suzu--” his teeth flash as quick as gun cotton-- “why don’t you come over here and explain yourself to this nice young woman.”

Suzu gulps, throat making a hollow thunk. “Ah...of course, Professor Weise.”

Obi’s not the kind of guy that leaves a man behind, but as Suzu shuffles his sad-sack self into the fray, he finds himself diverting from the flight plan, circling right around to where a high-necked blouse and Mary Jane bobs worriedly in Guerreiro’s wake.

“Well, well, well.” She jumps, turning those big eyes toward him, green as any of the arsenic bottles in the lab’s cabinet. “If its isn’t our winsome Wisteria heiress. Funny seeing you here.”

Her mouth pulls thin. “Oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he agrees, slipping up beside her. She smells nice, something floral and vanilla that clings to her hair and makes him think of cookies at grandma’s. “I gotta say, Miss, for a humble war nurse, you sure got friends in some very high places.”

She huffs, arms crossing over her chest. “For your information, we met long before she got into show business.”

“That so?” he hums, hiking up a brow. “Now that you mention it, she was in one of Kain Wisteria’s flicks, wasn’t she? That one about the South Pacific.”

“She was in three,” the little miss corrects primly. “But the one you’re looking for is Sunrise Over Okinawa.”

He snaps his fingers. “Right, it came out just as I...”

She turns, all question.

“Ah, never mind,” he coughs. “Seems like Wisteria sure liked her work, if he kept using her like that.”

“Mm.” Her face crumples with the shadow of concern. “He did. He told her that with a little more work, she could be his muse.”

“Hah.” Obi lifts his hat, scratching at the back of his head. “That man liked his muses.”

Her knuckles blanch where they grasp her elbows. “He sure did at that.”

“You know, I’m surprised he didn’t try to put you in one of his flicks.” He grins down at her. “You might not be no Veronica Lake, but you got that Judy Garland look.”

Something happens to her face, so quick he can’t catch more than a ripple of it before it’s gone. She turns to him, shoving a paper into his hand.

“Here’s your report back,” she says, the words trembling. “You might want to be more careful where you leave these things.”

She glances at him, and he hears loud and clear: or who you leave them with.

“Right.” He glances down, catching the coroner’s letter head, stark and official under the university’s warm light. “Hey, ah, if you’re having trouble, I could get you in to see my friend.”

The girl whips back to him, wide-eyed, staring like maybe he’s missing a couple of sandwiches from his picnic basket. “I...appreciate the offer, detective.”

“Obi,” he offers, giddily.

“Obi.” Her mouth parts just slightly, uncertain. “But isn’t he right there? I could just ask him myself.”

“Well, sure,” he wheedles, “but that’s no guarantee he’ll talk to you. You know these egghead types. Insular.” He leans in, flashing a smile that could charm the hose off a Hepburn. “But me, I can put a good word in for you.”

She hums, hose still snug. “That so.”

“Sure thing.” He nods toward the charlie foxtrot happening hardly two yards from where they’re standing. “I could go up there right now and ask for you. I’m sure he’d be happy to do me the favor.”

“Of course he would,” she huffs. “He’s having a strip torn off him from both sides. Thank you very much, Mister...Obi, but I think I can wait.”

“Not at all.” He grins so wide the Cheshire Cat would go green with envy, and he’s rewarded with a look so wary that Wisteria’s pet cop would slap him in irons just to head him off. “Good thing for you, Miss, I don’t have any shame.”

She blink. “What? No, you can’t--”

He steps right up to the Western Front, marked by Guerreiro’s sharp elbow and says, “Hey, Suzu, this is the girl I was telling you about. Miss Nowakowski. She’s got some questions about that report you gave me.”

Suzu goggles at him. “Ah, sure, pal.” His mouth pulls into a rictus grin. “I’d--I’d love to meet her. Why don’t we all just go up to my office--”

“No need.” The red head shoulders through, nearly knocking him off his feet. She might be a tiny thing, but she stands shoulder to shoulder with the rest of them like she’d the tallest personality in the room. “I only came here to say that I’m giving permission to exhume the body.”

Shidan chokes. “I-- I’m sorry? I don’t think I heard that--?”

“I’ve already put in the request at the precinct,” she explains, shoulders square she she stares them all down. “But I want to come down here as request personally that you do the toxicology report, Mr Eason.”

“Oh, I-- I don’t-- I’m not--” Suzu pants, hand hooks in his sweater vest-- “I don’t have the authority for that, Miss.”

“But I do.” Shidan stares down at the lot of them, his mouth in a thin line. “I think we should be discussing this in my office. Come this way, Miss Nowakowski, Miss Guerreiro. It seems I’ve missed a few crucial conversations.”

#obiyukibingo2020 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #mystery au #Go For Broke #noir au #my fic #ans #every time i start writing this fic #i'm so convinced it'll be easy #and then i spend like 99% of my time during the second draft googling the DUMBEST STUFF #obi's shoe choice is in one line but guess how long i spent deciding that #TOO LONG

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #278

“they will seduce you, get through the door; then they bite you in the neck, leave you bleeding on the floor.”

Do you believe in dream symbolism? If so, do you ever look up what certain things in your dreams may mean? Some, yes, others, no. A lot just seem way too random to have stories behind them, but just as well, some dreams are obviously stemmed from our experiences, fears, desires, etc. Who was the last person who exploded on you? What was the reason? I have no idea, but probably Mom. Is there a certain name that keeps popping up in your life, like a name that many people you know have? No. What is something you have a "love/hate relationship" with? What do you hate about it, and what do you love about it? The first thing that comes to mind is technology. I grew up way too dependent on in despite my mom being a good mother that really tried to limit my time of it. It just never worked. Almost everything I do involves a computer. Through the Internet though, I’ve made spectacular friends, discovered great things (coughcoughmark), it helps me through depression and stuff… but I nevertheless hate how attached I am to it. Sometimes I feel like I’m so disconnected from the “real” world, “real” experiences, but then again, I also believe tech is a part of the “real” world. Idk how to really explain it; I have such mixed feelings. Do you like things that are cliché or not? What kinds of things that are regarded as "cliché" do you like? Sure, especially romantic cliches. I’m just such a sucker for that kind of stuff. What was the last quote you read somewhere, and who said it? “Speak your mind even if your voice shakes,” Ruth Ginsburg. We truly lost a hero. Have you heard any song mash-ups (when they put two or more different songs together) that you like? If so, which? Oh, quite a lot, I love those! The first one that comes to mind is “Centuries” by Fall Out Boy and “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had in 2014? Well, this is old. But anyway, I had one. How often do you say ‘lol’ in a computer or text conversation? Quite a bit. Idk, it just changes the tone of what you’re speaking. Whose hoodie did you wear last? My own. Have you ever listened to music you hated just to fit in? Ha ha… not devoutly, but I’d explore “cool” metal bands to try to get into. I didn’t make myself listen to them if I didn’t like ‘em, though. What’s an interesting fact about you that not many people know? Hm. Well, I don’t consider it “interesting,” but very few people (besides the Internet lmao) know that I essentially stole my then-best friend’s boyfriend by mutual flirting to the point he broke up with her and wanted me instead. I cut that shit the fuck out once he told me he loved me. It’s one of the things I’m most ashamed of. What do you want to do after high school? I’m long past high school, and let’s just say things are NOT going as planned lmao. At all. I had such, such a different vision. Do you do anything embarrassing when no one is home? No. If you had the chance to move to a completely different state/country, would you? I deadass want to move to Canada but am unwilling to move so far from my family. How old were you when you stopped believing in Santa? I don’t know age; it’s funny, I tend to remember things by school grades versus my age. Even in this situation, though, I’m not positive. Towards the end of elementary school, maybe? Do you have any saved texts? Yes, from Sara and Ashley. Do you ever play online games with your friends? Which one(s)? Once upon a time, my friend/”big brother” Sam and I would play WoW together every day and just chill out over Skype. He helped keep me company during my worst depression. We haven’t played together in quite a long time, though. I should message him. Which emoji did you use most recently? The upside-down smiley face on Facebook. Who was the last person to cry in your presence? Mom, probably. Or one of my nieces or nephew. Do any of your friends have small children? Yes. One of my closest friends had her son not even two weeks ago. Do you ever wear accessories in your hair? Which ones? No. What kind of fruit do you like? A good chunk of it. Strawberries, apples, grapes, pineapple, bananas, peaches… Is there anything you've always wanted to do that you've never told anyone? *shrugs* Maybe. Do you flush the toilet with your hand or your foot? ”I use my hand at home and in other people’s bathrooms, but I use my foot in public washrooms.” <<<< Same. What is your Myers-Briggs Type Indicator? (Ex: ENTP): INFP. Do you read any blogs? If so, which ones? No. Would you rather have curvy legs or skinny legs? I’d prefer to have an in-between. What is your favorite game show? Family Feud with Steve Harvey. How many times a day do you use the restroom? Hm. Depends on how much I drink. What was the last thing that made you cringe? Idr. What is your favorite ‘80s movie? I’m not sure, given how I don’t tend to recognize movies by decades. Do you have your own car? No. I don’t drive. Who was the last person who drew you a picture? I commissioned someone on deviantART to draw My Child Jaw and it is so FUCKING beautiful. Would you rather hold a scorpion or a snake? I love snakes, so guess. How do you usually get your exercise? I don’t, but that’s going to change when we FINALLY fuckin move. I’m going to walk as much as I possibly can because we have a sidewalk. Who are your godparents? Idk if I even have any. Are any of your siblings married? Three are and one is engaged. What does your phone case look like, if you have one? It came with a plain purple one. What is something you can draw really well? I think I’m pretty good at meerkats. Best field trip experience? The zoo in the 5th grade. One and only time I’ve seen meerkats irl. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? Idr. It’s very rare I can pay for anything because I don’t have an income, but with gifted money and stuff, it was probably when I paid for my mom and I to eat at Olive Garden. I don’t recall how much it was, but OG isn’t cheap, so. Who was (or is) the teacher that gave you the hardest time in school? Idk. I had good teachers. What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? I don’t know. Nothing exciting. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Not really, no. There are cases where I do, like if I take too big a bite or something, but generally I don’t. Everyone has to eat. What is the worst thunderstorm you’ve experienced? I recall one in particular during my era of being terrified of them when we were on the way home from a friend’s house and there was INSANE lightning. I was crying so much in the back seat. I think I have experienced worse ones, that’s just the one I remember because of how much it terrified me. How quickly can you write an essay? Pretty damn quickly once I get into the groove of it. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? No. What bug frightens you most? Oh yikes, idk. A lot of bugs scare me, honestly, particularly if they surprise me. Probably rhinoceros beetles. Are your parents supportive of you? Very. Have you ever participated in a mock trial, or a real trial? No. Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? lol oops Have you ever had sex on your bedroom floor? How about your living room floor? YIKES this survey getting frisky but anyway idk. When you kiss someone, do you like to play with their hair? Yeah. Do you regret sleeping with anyone? No. Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? No…? Your hair is just gonna get messy while sleeping. Have you ever asked anyone out? Do you prefer to do the asking out, or wait to see if the other person will ask? Yes. I don’t really have a preference. Have your parents ever disapproved of anyone you had a relationship with? Not to my knowledge. When’s the last time you ran? HUNNY Brittany doesn’t RUN. Have you ever stayed online for a long time waiting for someone? Oh yes, I did that A LOT with Mini back when we were younger and RPed together like every day. Who or what sleeps with you? Roman, my cat. Would you wear a boy/girlfriend’s clothes? I somehow wound up with quite a few of Jason’s pj pants?????? But anyway yeah sure, I would. If it fit, anyway. Do you return your cart? I am a lazy person. But not that lazy. Do it. What noise do you hear? I’m currently listening to NateWantsToBattle’s cover of “Feel Good Inc.” Would you survive in prison? No. No. I know I’d try to commit suicide. Do you remember the last movie you saw while on a date? The IT remake with Girt. Have you ever cheated on someone? No sir. Do you kiss on the first date? I never have, but not saying I wouldn’t. BUT I most likely would not just because I reserve kisses for someone I really, really like. Usually by the first date I wouldn’t know that yet. Are you into sports? Nope. Have you ever used your bra to hold things like you would a pocket? HAHA I don’t think so. Who knows a secret about you that no one else does? My ex-therapist. What is your longest relationship to date? 3 ½ years. Who ended the last relationship you were in? It was brought up by her, but it came to be a mutual decision. Have you ever gotten back with an ex? No. Who was your first prom date? Jason. Have you ever dated someone more than three years older than you? For less than a day. Have you ever been used? I don’t think so. Do you like when I guy takes you by surprise and kisses you? This is making quite a few assumptions, but anyway, if we’re in a stable relationship, generally yes. It’s cute. Would you be more likely to date a redneck or a goth? My dream partner would be a goth, hnnnnnnnnGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG. Has anyone ever sung to you? Yes. Do you like massages? EW don’t touch me like that unless you’re my s/o. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No. When was the last time you spent the night at someone else's house? The last time I was at Sara’s. What scares you more, spiders or snakes? Spiders. Does it matter if a guy has a sense of humor? If he’s a romantic interest, yeah. Would you ever get implants? No. Have you ever had a crush on a sibling's friend? No. Have you ever dated someone with a child? No. I’m quite sure I wouldn’t. Have you ever dated someone of another race? For less than a day. Have you kissed anyone today? No. What was the last topic you read about? I beliiieeeve… Metallica’s new album. Have you ever participated in a fundraising campaign? I think? Again, I don’t have an income though so I’m unsure. Do you know how to knit? No. What’s your go-to order from KFC? I don’t go there. What was the last album you listened to in full? Oh man, there’s no telling. I generally don’t do that. Do you use pepper to season your food? Sure, that’s a common enhancement. Do you know anyone who has an unusual pet? Probably somebody. Have you ever known anyone who was homeless? My mother, Nicole, and I technically were at one point, we just had spectacular people let us live with them until we got a new place. Did you have a treehouse when you were younger? No. One does not simply build a treehouse in pine trees. Have you ever played Magic: The Gathering? Guys. Guys. For many many months now I’ve been dying to and idk why. That game was one of Jason’s favorite things in the world and so he taught me it how to play, though I never fully got it because there are a LOT of rules. When I had my PS3, I had one of the Duels of the Planeswalkers games, and I miss that shit. What are your thoughts on role playing games? Fun fun. What is a band you can't stop listening to right now? I’ve been seriously into 3TEETH lately, as well as Solence. Have you ever had a panic attack? LOTS!!!!!!!! Have you ever entered a talent competition? Naw, I don’t have an exceptional talent. Are you indecisive? Ridiculously so. Are you smiling in your Facebook profile picture? It’s actually one of my brightest smiles I’ve ever taken a selfie with. I look way happier than I am lmaooo. Describe your hometown. What's it like there? Small, notoriously dangerous. Do you have any expensive hobbies? You could say photography given the various lenses and other materials available, plus editing software subscriptions. What is the oldest online account that you still use? My email, probably. What was the last video game you beat? I wanna say it was the last time I replayed Silent Hill 2. Long time ago. What's your favorite Studio Ghibli film? I actually haven’t seen any. Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it? Yeah, sure, like various entertainers/bands/musicians, TV shows…

#survey #surveys #quiz #questions #questionnaire

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years ago

Text

Jigsaw // Red: Part One

Valhalla

A/N: Picking up right where we left off with Blue (which you can find on the Billy Russo page of my masterlist). Billy’s on the run and needs to find a place to hide out while he comes up with a plan.

Warnings: character death

Word Count: 3,730

Left. He hit the sidewalk and immediately turned, shifting himself sideways to disappear down the alley. Go, go, go. Legs turning over with perfect form, he ran between the buildings, a blur of red brick on one side, pale gray concrete on the other. The sound of his breathing drowned out everything but the voice in his head telling him where to turn. Right. Coming through to the next street, he spun, socked feet splashing through a puddle of condensation from the A.C. unit in the window above. Alley, now. A trash bag lay across the opening of the narrow space. Jump it. Right leg extended, he vaulted over the garbage heap, springing off his coiled left calf and landing in stride, continuing to run without missing a beat. An aluminum chain link fence greeted him at the end of the alley, and he quickly calculated the necessary motion to climb it. Wait! Back pressed against the grime covered wall, he held his breath in the shadows as two police cruisers flew by, sirens wailing. He counted to ten, waiting to see if any more were in pursuit. He could hear more sirens joining in from other parts of the city, but for now the way was clear. Go, up and over. Securing the folder inside his zipped sweatshirt, he jumped and gripped the fence with both hands, fingers curling through the wire diamonds. He pulled himself up with ease, throwing one leg and then the other over the top and landing hard on the soles of his feet.

Keep fuckin’ going. Listening to the commanding voice in his head, Billy immediately took off running again. His lungs were on fire and he had a cramp in his gut but just like in an active warzone, he knew that he couldn’t rest until he’d reached the checkpoint. Not that he had one in mind when he broke free, but as he scaled the fence he realized that his legs were taking him to a specific location- an abandoned warehouse in Red Hook. Of course. He coughed, wheezing slightly as he pushed himself to follow his feet as fast as he could. Of course that’s where I’m goin’. He reverted back to auto pilot, following the commands to make turns and slip through alleys, allowing his thoughts to traverse the labyrinth in his brain like a mouse in a maze, desperate for the cheese. With a wince and a jerk of his head, a memory tumbled to the frontlines as he got closer to his destination.

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

‘S’just an idea I had,” Billy shrugged and shoved his burger haphazardly into his mouth, filling it with food so he’d have an excuse not to elaborate too much. You watched him from across the retro red table, tapping your thumbnail against the grooved aluminum edge.

“It’s a great idea, Billy,” you’d said encouragingly, French fry suspended over your plate, a dollop of ketchup plopping off the end of it.

He chewed around a small smile, keeping his eyes on you as he reached for the pebbled plastic soda glass in front of him. He swallowed the bite he’d taken and chased it down with a few loud slurps of his drink before setting what was left of his lunch back on his plate. “I dunno about great,” he said with a minute shift of his shoulders. “Still got a lot of work to do. Gonna need investors and warehouse space and-“

You stopped tapping at the aluminum trim and stretched your hand across the small two top booth to grip his, giving a light squeeze. “Yeah,” you said with a nod. “Yeah, you got a lot of work to do. But the idea is a good one, and a lot of good people will benefit from it.”

She gets it. He cleared his throat and sniffed, nose wrinkling up. “Yeah, I mean… just thinkin’ about guys like me’n Frankie. Guys that gave decades of their lives to the military. Guys that need to have somethin’ to fall back on when they get home… what kinda jobs are gonna hire 38 year olds with no experience, ya know?” He was talking mainly about Frank, but he wasn’t far behind his friend in terms of age or the things he was willing to risk as that number went up.“Give ‘em a chance to use the skills they have instead’a tryin’ to scramble to fit in to some 9-5…” Let ‘em be with guys who understand…

“So what do you have to do then, Billy? How do you make this happen?” You’d pushed your plate aside to give him your full attention, one hand still linked with his over the scarlet and silver boomerang patterned laminate.

He’d hesitated to tell you about his idea of starting his own private security company, because saying it out loud meant that it was real. Telling you about it was essentially sealing a promise to himself...and to you, that he’d make it work, and he wasn’t sure that he could. But the way that you asked those questions, with nothing but clarity and belief in your tone, the way your hand never left his, it made him feel like maybe it wasn’t so crazy. Maybe I can. “Well, I gotta figure out how much I need to get started. Equipment, endorsements, facilities,” He ticked those off on the fingers of his free hand before his tongue came out to lick his lips. “I...actually, I looked into this one warehouse in Brooklyn already. Not that I’m expectin’ it to still be available when I’m ready to pull the trigger but… I wanted to look into the numbers.”

“Will you show it to me?” The excitement on your face pulled his cheeks up slowly, almost making him laugh.

“What?” He shook his head looking down at your hands. “Nah, you don’t wanna,” he looked back up to find that you hadn’t so much as blinked. “I only got two days left, you wanna waste one of ‘em in a dirty old building?” But even as he tried to talk you out of it, Billy realized that he did want to take you there.

The server came over then, coffee pot in one hand and stress written all over her tired face despite the fact that there were only three other occupied tables in the joint. “Get you two anything else?” The way she asked the question dictated what she hoped the answer would be.

Without missing a beat you turned to respond to the woman. “Nope, we’ll take the-” she dropped the puffy black check presenter on the table where it clapped together with a soft thud. “-check, thanks!” You pulled your hand from Billy’s and let him inspect the bill before he dug his wallet out, tucking some cash behind the curled thermal paper and then placing it on top of the dented silver napkin holder.

When he had returned his wallet to the back pocket of his dark jeans, you tilted your head and cocked one eyebrow. “What?” He asked, to which you’d only changed the angle of your chin. “Really?” Your smirk answered and he felt a swelling in his chest at your stubborn faith in him. “You’re serious.” That one wasn’t a question.

You stood from the booth and wrapped your scarf around your neck before slipping your arms into the sleeves of your jacket. Billy did the same, following your lead. When you’d both donned your outerwear, you pulled your hair up and over the thick cable knit loops of your neck covering and bounced up on the balls of your feet to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I am, Russo.” Motioning toward the door and lacing your fingers with his, you licked your candy apple lips. “Lead the way, Billy.”

.. .. .. .. .. ..

His breathing picked up, uneven and ragged, fingers shaking as they clutched the rusty gate, swinging it open. The chase was over and his body reacted accordingly, heightened senses returning to normal levels, the adrenaline slowly draining from his blood. The greedy gulps of air he was taking would make him sick. He knew that, but there was nothing he could do. His survival instincts got him as far as they needed to before vanishing into the abyss, leaving him alone. Closing the gate behind him, Billy staggered through the fenced in loading dock of the abandoned warehouse, shoeless feet tripping on the cracks in the pavement where stubborn weeds were pushing through the concrete. Broken glass littered the ground as he got closer to the building, an entire pane having fallen from the third story, nothing but a few jagged spears remaining in the window frame.

The crunching, crashing sound of glass shattering echoed in his ears, forcing a wince and a pitiful hissing sound that was a mixture of pain and fear. Tearing his eyes from the fragments, he gripped the top of his head and shook it hard, jogging the sound and the visions that came with it from his mind. The blare of a bus horn from a few blocks away brought him back to the moment. Chest heaving, Billy gripped the folder that he’d tucked under his sweatshirt, confirming for the tenth time since his escape that he hadn’t lost it. What little relief was left for him trickled through his body as he finally reached the door and found it unlocked.

Tugging the handle he pulled it open, flakes of rust falling from the hinges as they creaked and screeched their disuse. The bottom of the door dragged over the concrete, scraping a crescent shape into the ground. He stumbled inside and yanked the door shut behind him, giving three hard pulls to close the stubborn portal. He kept moving, using the sunlight that filtered in through the thick, clouded windows to seek out the staircase on the near side of the vast and empty space. It had been over a year since he’d last been there, but he was confident that the steps hadn’t decayed past the point of use. Testing his weight on the bottom few he saw that he was right. He gripped the oxidized rails, the peeling metal rough against his palms as he climbed to the second floor, footsteps echoing in the vast, empty space.

This wasn’t Anvil’s home, but it might have been, almost was. There was more graffiti than there was the last time he’d set foot inside, depleted spray paint cans littering the ground and coming into view as he took the last few steps. The word Valhalla was scrawled across the bricks in the loft, accented with flames and shadows, a few broken, lumpy chairs and mattresses spread beneath the mural. The room had clearly been used as some kind of illegal den for drugs or other illicit activity, and simply hadn’t been cleaned out when the inhabitants had been dispatched. A rat scurried out from under one of the dilapidated pieces of furniture and found refuge inside of a potato chip bag in the corner. Billy stood before the painted wall. Valhalla. What a crock of shit. He recalled the way that he and his brothers in arms had often compared themselves to the Vikings, to the Gods of War, talking about valor and the glory that was waiting for them back home. There’s no glory left, no good death for me. He tore his eyes from the lettering and sank down onto one of the badly torn couches, a broken sound coming from his throat as he pulled the folder from where it was tucked beneath the zipper of his sweatshirt, letting it fall to the ripped cushion beside him, his head falling to hang between his hands.

Outside, the clouds shifted in the sky letting hazy afternoon light find its way through the damaged windows. It created a spotlight effect that drew his gaze to a hastily sprayed “X” on the floor in the center of the room, the splotchy ruby red paint scuffed from where careless boot soles had stepped over it. His mouth fell open, an incredulous breath bursting forth as he dragged his palms over the close cropped hair on top of his head, fingers curling around the helix of his ears and memory hurtling back to the last time that he’d been in that building.

.. .. .. .. .. ..

You reached the door before he did, both hands gripping the chunky steel door handle, eagerly trying to tug it open but struggling to do so. He watched your shoulders hunch up as you tried to pull harder before you turned to look back at him. The excitement on your face would have been more suited to opening the door to a luxury suite in a gilded mansion than a rundown old paint factory with more broken panes of glass on the floor than existed in the window frames, but he knew it was there and it was real. Because she loves me. That simple, overwhelming thought was the hardest thing he’d ever wrapped his head around. He shook his head as his lips parted, one side quirking upwards involuntarily. “Easy there killer, lemme do that.” Billy reached passed you and grabbed the handle, a flush of warmth flooding his veins as you leaned back into his chest, your fingers falling away from the door as he gave a hard pull to pry it open, the bottom scraping the ground. “Still can’t believe this is what you wanna-“

You turned quickly and pressed two fingers, skin chilled from the early spring air, against his lips to silence him. “Believe it. This is where I wanna be. Nowhere else. Now,” You winked at him and turned back towards the darkened entry that he’d just wrenched opened. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Russo, but you were going to take me on the tour of your new facility, were you not?” You started to take a step through the door when his arms quickly circled around your waist, stopping you. They flexed, tightening his hold and forcing a bubbly laugh to spill from your soul.

“Yeah,” he brought his lips to your ear, pressing them to the flesh behind it. “Right this way, ma’am.” He unwound his arms and took your hand, carefully leading you into the building. The heavy door swung shut with a thud and you jumped slightly. “I got ya,” he said, squeezing your hand as the metallic sound of the door echoed throughout the cavernous space. You squeezed back and threw a smile in his direction.

Late afternoon light was streaming in through the remaining glass panels, showing off an iron staircase that lead to a lofted office area, and behind it an enormous room with concrete flooring. “So down here we’d build this out for training purposes,” he motioned to the space with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “Put up walls, build rooms for guys to run tactical drills in. S’enough square footage to run two teams through drills at once.” He cleared his throat and nodded. “I uh, I looked into that, too.”

He’d looked into more than he let on at the diner, already researching contractors that might be willing to work with a US Marine vet when it came to budget. He watched you take in the room, blinking slowly in the dim light, breathing quietly in the musty air. “It’s perfect, Billy.”

He shrugged but allowed his cheek to twitch up towards his eye in a one sided grin. “It’s not. But it doesn’t haveta be. Just has to be big.”

You dislodged your hand from his to explore the space some more, wandering between the support poles that ran from cracked floor to vaulted ceiling. Swinging around one of them, your hair fell like a curtain over your face and you pushed it back. “Well it’s definitely big. So check that off the list.” You came back towards him as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “What else?”

“Well,” his eyes darted to the staircase, yours following until they came back to meet. “Up there is where the offices would be.” Tongue flicking out to lick his lips and teeth flashing behind them, he said, “Where my office would be.”

Your grin turned mischievous. “Oh yeah?” He nodded. “Just up those stairs?” Another nod. “Well this I gotta see,” you said, taking off in the direction of the loft.

“Hang on, wait,” he shot his arm out, catching you by the wrist and wrapping his fingers around it. “Lemme… I dunno if the stairs are…” you let him go ahead of you, testing his weight on the rickety staircase. Satisfied with their structural integrity, he looked back at you. “Okay, c’mon up.” He gave you his hand again and you took it, the familiar weight of it grounding him.

The top floor boasted an exposed brick wall to the right and a huge half circle window high up near the ceiling to the left, long narrow windows running down beneath it. A series of smaller offices overlooking the first floor could be seen down a short hall. A few stray papers and paint cans were strewn about, and a pigeon cooed as it fluttered from rafter to rafter over your heads. You spun in a slow 360 degrees, directly in the center of the beam of light filtering in through the lead glass semi-circle. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it is perfect. “So what do you think?”

“I think your desk should go right over there,” you pointed out a spot in the middle of the large brick wall. “You close this off,” you moved your arms to indicate the area around where his phantom desk stood. “Your secretary can sit-“ you looked over your shoulder at him, devilish grin climbing your lips to change the color of your eyes to a darker shade. “She’s not gonna like me, I can tell. But she can sit over there,” again you moved your arms to indicate where walls would be. “Outside your office. More privacy that way.” You’d come back to stand in front of him, slipping your arms beneath his and pressing yourself tightly against him.

Billy looked down through his lashes at you as you reached up to fix a stray lock of his hair that had fallen in front of his eye, tucking it back in order before trailing your fingertips down the stubble on his face. “S’not what I-“

“I know.” You gripped the back of his neck and flexed your fingers. “I know that’s not what you were asking. You wanna know what I think, Billy?”

His hands came up to either side of your face then, eyes searching yours. “Yours is the only opinion that matters,” he said. “So yeah, I wanna know what you think.”

You looked around the space again, hand dropping from behind him as his fell away from your cheeks. Finding what you were looking for, you smiled and took a few steps into the corner, bending down to pick up an aluminum can with a bright red plastic top. You shook it like a maraca, the liquid inside sloshing around to tell you that it wasn’t empty. Popping the top off, you walked over towards the area you’d cordoned off for his office, finger resting atop the depressor.

“What are you…” his sentence fell apart as you stooped down and sprayed a big “x” on the ground, dropping the can and letting it clatter by your feet.

“There,” you said, wiping your hands together and then brushing them off on your jeans. “X marks the spot, Billy. That’s what I think. I think now you have two things to come home to, lieutenant.”

He shook his head and moved closer to you. “That’s not even… ‘course I’m coming home to you, that’s not-”

“Yeah, you better.” You stood on the wet X, not caring about getting paint on your shoes. “But this? This place, this goal? I think there’s no way in Hell you don’t make this happen, Billy.”

He reached for you then, pulling you off the X and into his body, wrapping you up as tightly as he could. “X marks the spot,” he said, lips covering yours, glad that this was how you’d ended up spending the rest of the day.

.. .. .. .. .. .. ..

He stooped down to run his fingers over what was left of the red mark, the patterns from the soles of your shoes faintly visible in the splotchy paint. She should be here. She should be here and she’s not. Tears pooled in his eyes and spilled fat and heavy onto the floor as rage roiled in his blood. Frank did this. Frank and… and Madani. He stood then, shuffling back over to the folder in the couch. There’s gotta be… He knew needed to get their attention. Gotta be some way to flush ‘em out, to…

He flipped through the file, the photos of the two of you from the park socking him hard. Military records, session notes, accomplishments, crimes, details from every aspect of his life typed out neatly in 12 point double spaced font. One name caught his eye as he turned the pages, one name that he’d only ever shared with three people in his adult life: Frank, Madani, and you.

“So what do you have to do then, Billy? How do you make this happen?”

Your voice filled his ears then, and he knew what he had to do to make Frank take notice.

Thoroughly exhausted from the events of the day, from the pieces he’d put into place and the staggering realizations he’d come to, Billy took the photo from the folder and fell into the broken couch. Outside, the sun had started setting, darkness slowly swallowing the world and ending the day. They took her from me. Slow, shaky breaths puffed through his nostrils as he crossed his arms over his chest, aching to hold you one more time. They took her from me and they’re gonna pay.

Though it felt like his anguish would keep him from sleep, his eyes slipped closed and he drifted off, holding your picture and repeating an address over and over, like counting sheep; an address he couldn’t believe he remembered after all these years.

They’re all gonna pay.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @lexxierave @songforhema @thesumofmychoices @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @roses-in-your-country-house @ymariejp @belladonnarey @audreychaz @songtoyou @stories-you-wont-hear @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime @luminex3 @ificouldhelpyouforget @obscurilicious @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @nananananananananananabatman

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#jigsaw #jigsaw // red #valhalla #billy russo #billy russo x you #billy russo x reader #the punisher #the punisher au #frank castle #dinah madani #they're all gonna pay

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