#and then i gotta pull the final demo out of my ass but whatever!

[vermillioncrown]

we might fucking make it boys

ch 1: 32 pgs

ch 2: 60 pgs

ch 3: 44 pgs

ch 4: 48 pgs

45k words so far

[sanvirtheobserver]

Taking Flight, Chapter 32: The Exciting Expedition

The afternoon sun shines over the East Coast. Bob eagerly rushes onwards below with Boopkins struggling to keep up. Tari, Belle, Meggy, and Mario aren't too far behind as they catch up with Bob.

Boopkins: Bob, can you please slow down!?

Belle: Yeah, ragman. The place isn't going anywhere.

Bob: It's you guys who should be pulling your asses faster! You know the treasure hunting life is all about first come, first served, AND I WILL BE SERVED!

Belle: Alright. But don't come crying to me when you pull something.

Bob finally stops, allowing the others to catch up. Before them lies the mouth of a massive cave. The mouth itself is crusted with chitinous debris, and the faint glow of bioluminescent fungus can be seen inside.

Tari: This looks like the place.

Meggy: Looks like a death trap. No wonder nobody else is here.

??????: It might look that way now.......

The squad turns to see a short middle aged business man with a prominent belly, sporting a cane and a fedora. Beside him is a heavily augmented and eerily quiet RED soldier, appearing to be more Machine than Soldier. A "Soldine" if you will.

??????: ........... but once all those mutant squatters are cleared out, it'll make an EXCELLENT place for my exotic underground resort.

Bob: And who the hell are you?

??????: Oh apologies. The name is Theodore Potman, Mann Co Senior Representative.

Meggy: And Mann Co is....... what exactly?

Potman: Why, I'm glad you asked! Mann Co is a multinational business platform for various well-known firms such as Reliable Excavation Demolition, Builders League United, the Global Radio Network, and Yard Logistics Workers. As a company, we take pride in providing the greatest services, the most useful tools, and the safest products money can buy. We've recently launched our new Mann Co rewards program, which allows-

Belle: Spare us the corporate pisstalk, pig. You'll pop a button.

Potman was caught off guard by the sudden aggression, prompting Boopkins to try and diffuse the sudden situation.

Boopkins: Come on, Belle. No need to be mean when we barely know each other, right?

Belle: Oh, I know who he is. All those business firms he just mentioned? They're all just fronts for all the gangs and Mercenary groups under the Mann Family's thumbs. He's just a mouthpiece for the world's largest crime family.

Beads of sweat roll down his forehead as Belle glares at him.

Belle: One that clearly doesn't know when to shut up.

Soldine: Stand down, ma'am.

Soldine steps between the two. His voice was cold and metallic, with an oppressive sense of authority. Belle was unfazed, but Tari was eager to get on their way before things get messy. Potman seemed eager to end this conversation as well, considering he might've just tinkled a little.

Tari: Uh, anyways. We should probably get going. Isn't that right, Meggy?

Meggy: Right. The sooner we find what we came for, the sooner we can leave.

Potman: Yes, of course. We'll let you be on your way, then.

Belle stares one more set of daggers at Potman before finally breaking off.

Potman: And if you're so interested, I can offer a pretty penny for anything valuable you may find. Maybe my crew could be of assistance if you need it.

Boopkins: Your crew?

Right on cue, four teams of mercenaries arrive on the scene. There are dozens of lads and ladies adorned with various regalia, ranging from professional to casual to........ whatever the hell that demo is going for, and bearing the colors of RED, BLU, GRN, and YLW. The engineers begin setting up a base camp while the other Mercs lock and load.

B. Soldier: Who's ready for a bug hunt, boys?!

G. Demowoman: YEAH, LET'S DO IT!

Y. Medic: I am prepared for medicine.

R. Heavy: Sanvich.

Bob: OH SH*T! Guys, we gotta haul ass!

Boopkins: Bob, wait!

Once again, Bob frantically rushes ahead with Boopkins frantically trying to keep up. They quickly disappear amidst the crowd of mercenaries within the mouth of the cave.

Meggy: Yeah....... Well, it was nice to meet you Mr. Potman, but we should get going. Come on, Red.

Meggy and Mario move forward into the cave. Belle gives one last glare towards Potman before breaking off. Potman exhales in relief as she and Tari move ahead.

Potman: Well then....... talk about a tough customer, ey old chap?

Soldine is dead silent.

Potman: Yes......... quite. Heheh.

Tari and Belle make their way through the winding stone depths, using the glow of bioluminescent fungus to light their way. Belle was still a bit broody after her "conversation" with Potman.

Tari: Belle?

Belle: What? You gonna say I should've been more "friendly?"

Tari: I mean, Potman did seem like a genuinely nice guy.

Belle: Of course he did. It's basically his job to make his employers look good. Makes it easier for Mann Co to cover their tracks.

Tari: I was wondering about that, actually. How do you know so much about Mann Co being a shady business?

Belle: *sigh* That's......... personal. Let's just find Ragman and Gills before-

Something suddenly ends up smashing into Belle. Tari immediately readies her glave and prepares for a fight only to see......

Tari: Whisk?

Yep. Whisk is here, and she just sprinted directly into Belle at full speed. Belle pushes Whisk off of her, and Tari helps the two to their feet.

Whisk: I'm so sorry.

Belle: Agh.....noted..... Also, what the hell are you doing here?

Whisk: Well, I heard people were looking for treasure here, so I thought I'd take a peak.

Tari: I thought you said you were done with the whole thievery thing.

Whisk: Actually, I'm a part of the archeology club now! I figured I could get extra credit for whatever I find here.

Tari: Oh, that's great!

Belle: Yes. Lovely. We're all proud. Why the hell were you sprinting at full speed in a bloody cave?

Y. Sniper: INCOMING!!!!

Their discussion is cut off by the sound of gunfire in the distance, along with dozens of nightmarish shrieks. A YLW Sniper comes running down the corridor. Behind him was a horde of ravenous Hive Thralls, their thin wings waving as they charge forwards.

Belle: Oh......... I see.

Back on the surface, Potman is sitting back on a recliner and the Engineers are all currently having a little cookout to pass the time. One of them is polite enough to offer Potman a beer.

Potman: Oh! you are too kind, sir. Would you like one too?

Soldine just stands there in dead silence.

Potman: Alright........ suit yourself I suppose. Has the scouting party found anything interesting?

R. Engineer: We're getting multiple gunfire readings and a helluva lotta biosignatures. Looks like they've made contact with the infestation.

The BLU Engineer tunes in on the radio. A cacophony of gunfire, roars, and screams can be heard. The voice of a Soldier can be heard amongst the chaos.

B. Soldier: I am not stuck in here with a cave full of chitinous maggots! YOU ARE ALL TRAPPED IN HERE WITH ME! 

An explosion rings out as the feed is cut off.

Potman: Oh dear......... any news from RED or BLU?

??????: Good evening, Theodore.

Potman turns to see a maskless Spy wearing a white suit. His right arm is encased in an armored gauntlet.

Potman: Ah, Pietro! Fashionably late, as usual.

Pietro: I see the operation is going smoothly.

Potman: Somewhat........any more updates?

R. Engineer: BLU and GRN are still scouting out the lower caverns. RED and YLW have made contact with the Hive and are currently engaged.

Potman: There was also this little band of adventurers we met earlier. They said they were looking for something.

Pietro: I see. Good to know I haven't missed any of the action. If you'll excuse me.......

Potman looks over to Soldine, who nods as he accompanies Pietro into the cave.

Potman: Have fun, boys! Don't make too much of a mess!

[murswrites]

Run Boy Run ⎯ Eddie Munson One-Shot

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader Fandom: Stranger Things MASTERLIST Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: Spoilers for VOLUME 2! cursing, banter, basically a fix-it fic SUMMARY: Eddie Munson is no hero.

A/N The finale absolutely killed me. Here’s some banter and basically the way it should have happened. I wrote this in like half an hour somehow lmao

The door to Eddie’s room in the Upside Down version of his trailer threatened to crack open. You three were scrambling, Eddie stood guard as you tried pushing Dustin up the sheet rope.

“Henderson if you don’t haul your ass I swear to God–” Dustin finally fell onto the mattress above you. “Eddie, come on!” You screamed, jumping up onto the rope, he walked backward toward the rope and you used his shoulder to push up further.

“Hurry the fuck up, dude!” Eddie sounded so panicked and you make quick work of the rope. It was hard to pull yourself up but you did it. Dustin helped you up as you landed onto the bed.

You watched as Eddie seemed to mull something over. “Eddie, what are you doing–come on!” Both you and Dustin were shouting at him.

Eddie looked up at you two, his eyes were soft as he groaned. “I am so sorry.” Before you could respond–Eddie cut the rope and the end in front of you fell onto the mattress. You watched in horror as he yanked the mattress away from the floor right when the demo bats broke through the door.

He looked back up at you two once more before running out of the trailer.

“What the fuck is wrong with him!?” You wanted to scream, you looked at Dustin and saw pure terror in his eyes, “You’re not going to like this, Henderson. But you’re going to help me back in there so I can give Eddie Munson the ass-beating of his life.”

“I’m going with you!” Dustin exclaimed and you shook your head.

“I can’t do that, kid. I’m responsible for you and right now I’m telling you to stay here. Help me up.” Dustin began to argue with you, “Stop! You’ll just slow me down and I need speed to get whatever the fuck those things–”

“Demo bats–”

You cut him off with a glare, “I need to be fast okay. Because I’m about to do the dumbest goddamn thing in my life to date. When I go in there, you work on another rope so we can get out, okay?”

Dustin nodded slowly, “Are you sure about this?”

You laughed dryly, “Oh I have never been less sure in my life, boost me up and I’ll jump.” Your hand barely caught onto the edge of the gate but Dustin made sure to push your feet up toward it. You pulled until the gravity flipped and then you fell onto your back loudly. “Oh fuck.”

The pain that blossomed from your back was worse than you expected, “At least you didn’t fall on your foot!” Dustin offered, “Here!” He threw a walkie-talkie through the gate and you caught it with ease. “Please be careful in there.”

You did your best to give put on a confident expression, “I’ll definitely try. Thank you kid,” Dustin just gave you a weak thumbs up before you turned toward the door with a somber face. “This is going to suck so bad.” You mumbled as you searched for Dustin’s forgotten spear.

Once you had the spear in hand, you carefully walked outside the trailer. Eddie was nowhere to be seen but you could hear those bats screeching. If you wanted to do this… you’d have to be okay with risking it all.

“Eddie you better be ready to run like hell.”

If the bats were attracted to Eddie playing Master of Puppets, they were going to be so… annoyed when they hear what you’re about to do. You have never held a guitar in your life, despite how many times Eddie’s tried teaching you to play.

You climbed the ladder–cursing under your breath the entire way. “Stupid stupid stupid, why’s he gotta play hero now? He’s a runner. He always has been and this stupid fucking town won’t care if he dies or not.” Eddie’s guitar lay on top of the trailer. You picked it up gently, “I am so sorry, guitar gods.”

And then the real horror began–your guitar playing. There was not a single in-tune note, only screeching and howling from both the bats and Eddie’s beloved guitar. You squeezed your eyes shut and just kept dragging your fingers down the strings over and over. The sound from the speaker hurt your ears so bad but when the sound of the demo bats grew louder you felt some relief.

Eddie drew them away and now you’d draw them back and away from him. Your radio made a crackling sound, “What the fuck is that!?” Eddie’s voice made your heart sink with happiness. “Y/N I swear to everything holy you better not be on the roof right now.” His voice was shallow as if he was running.

You didn’t respond, just kept abusing the poor guitar. The swarm was finally in your sight… it was horrifyingly huge. This was no concert anymore–it was a ticking bomb.

And then you saw something on the ground–then the sound of Eddie screaming for the attention of the bats met your ears. He was peddling the bike he rode with energy you’d never seen before. Your fingers were beginning to ache. The bats ignored him in favor of something much more obvious.

It was like a dinner platter had been set out for them. And you were the main course.

The first bat soared down onto you and you struggled to stay put. “GET OUT OF HERE!” You screamed at Eddie, “INSIDE!” He wasn’t listening.

Eddie climbed onto the roof and without another word began stabbing the demo bats out of the sky. You two put your backs together and you smacked the guitar against a pair of bats–they went flying to the ground. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” He demanded as you struck a bat out of the air.

“You aren’t the hero, Eddie!” You argued, “You were supposed to run.”

He didn’t respond as the pair of you fought the swarm. Now and then, they’d get the upper hand and nip at your hands but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. A thump sounded inside the trailer and the two of you made eye contact–“Dustin.” A scream sounded out but moments later, the kid appeared, a molotov cocktail in hand.

You couldn’t really see what he was doing on account of the swarm but you had an inkling. A bat caught sight of Dustin and you screamed to get their attention again, “Come get me you disgusting ass rodents!”

A spark of light appeared on the ground–he was lighting the cocktail. Then you saw the light go flying and naturally the bats followed it. When the cocktail shattered on the ground and fire exploded out the entire swarm began twitching and screaming in pain.

The spear fell out of your hands as you covered your ears in pain–they already ached from your terrible guitar solo. Eddie’s chest heaved as he glared at you, obviously angry at you for coming back. You were mad at both of them.

“What’s wrong with the bats?” Eddie asks suddenly as the swarm seems to drop dead.

“I… I don’t know.” You and Dustin look around, confusion clear on your faces. “You were supposed to stay in the trailer!”

Dustin’s ears turned red as he smiled despite it, “I think something good just happened–I think we’re winning.”

That’s when Eddie finally snapped, “What the fuck, guys!?”

“What do you mean, what the fuck? You were supposed to RUN!” You pushed at his shoulder in retaliation and he looked at you with a shocked expression.

“I was going to distract them!” He shouted.

You shook your head, “Eddie, you are not. A Hero.”

His face twisted, “I wasn’t saving anyone. I was being a decoy.”

“No the hell you weren’t–that was some Steve Harrington level of ‘I gotta save the day’. You broke your promise.” You spat out at him, growing angrier with each passing second.

Eddie threw his spear onto the ground and began climbing down the ladder, “What promise?”

“You did tell Steve we would just be decoys.” Eddie glared at Dustin for betraying him.

You stared at the two of them from the top of the trailer, “Eddie, I don’t think you realize that if you would have died–” Your voice cracked as the possibility of his death loomed over you. “This town would have not given a shit about your sacrifice.”

Eddie crouched on the ground, holding his spear in his hands. “I would have been something good.”

You scoffed as you jumped down the ladder, “You are something good. But if you ever do something like that again, I will kill you so hard.”

He cracked a smile as he looked up at you, “You’ll kill me so hard?” You felt heat rise in your cheeks but you nodded and repeated yourself. “Ok.”

“Ok?”

Eddie nodded and stood to his full height, “Won’t happen again.”

[mikasaessucasaa]

Title: Flatlanders

Summary: After being forced to retire from singing, Sansa returns to Winterfell Ranch, a place she hasn’t called home in over ten years, and finds the man that she left behind all those years ago.

Part 1 .... Part 2

1991

King’s Landing, TX

Sansa’s hair was a frizzy mess. It wasn’t usually so humid this far inland, but of course the moment she came back was the same week that the summer storms started. It only ever rained once a year when she lived in LA.

And now she was trekking around town when the sky looked like it was about to open up. She needed to fix a broken fence that’s been neglected for weeks. And she needed to talk to the bank and get their finances sorted. What the hell has Arya been doing all this time?

Fence first. Bank later. And maybe she’ll get so busy getting wood that she might not even have to see Petyr.

And of course it started pouring as soon as she pulled up to the Night's Watch General Store. Damn. It better not be a flash flood. She should have listened when Mama told her to bring a damn umbrella. Bless Sansa’s heart.

Accepting her fate, she steeled herself and made a dash from the truck to the front door. Even the thirty seconds it took her to get inside was enough to make her look like a drowned rat. Forget frizzy hair, her auburn hair was soaked and limp.

She was greeted by a familiar face, but she couldn’t place his name, not having seen him in over a decade. He was scrawny and of average height with short cropped hair.

“Sansa! Woah, never thought I’d see you again in these neck of the woods.”

Honestly, neither did she.

She looked at his name badge. Ah. Pyp. One of Jon’s lackeys who used to follow him around high school. She thought it was adorable back then. She wondered if he still talked to Jon.

“Jon’s gonna be so happy to see you.” She doubted it, but she nodded and smiled. “How can I help ya today?”

“Got a whole section of my fence broken. I think from lightning a couple of weeks ago.”

Pyp showed her a couple of different options. She wanted to buy the cedar since it would last longer through the unpredictable Texas weather, but she saw their finances, and Mama definitely understated just how much trouble the ranch was in. She didn’t know how long her own cash was going to last with her singing voice now gone.

So she went with the pine instead. She’ll deal with it later.

“I’ll give you the friends and family discount,” Pyp said when he rung her up. As she was signing the check, he pulled out another piece of paper and asked, “Do you mind also signing this? My niece loves your music. She’s always jamming to your album on her little boombox.”

Sansa hadn't thought she was that popular. She had one or two songs played on the radio nationally, and produced a couple of songs for commercials. She bet it was her local celebrity fame that made her popular down here.

She gave her signature and hauled ass out of her store with her fence posts while the rain momentarily stopped. She covered her new purchase with a tarp and settled back into her truck.

She checked the time, and damn the bank was still open.

So she made her way over to the Eyrie Bank. Her parents had only ever gone to one bank their entire life because it was owned by a family friend. Papa had been good friends with Jon Arryn for a long time before he passed, and then Aunt Lysa remarried a childhood friend, Petyr Baelish.

To Sansa, Petyr had always been the creepy uncle, but if anyone could help her sort out the mess with the ranch, he could.

There weren’t many customers when she entered the bank, so of course they let Petyr know right away that she was there to see him.

He smiled that creepy smile that he always had, as if he wanted to devour her. It was the same look music producers always gave her when she entered the room. They always undressed her with their eyes first before they bothered listening to her demos.

And she smiled back, as he leaned forward and held her in a too intimate hug. Gross. “Sansa, my dear. It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much over these last twelve years.”

“Same here, Uncle Baelish.”

“I wish you had come to visit more often.”

“Well you know what it’s like for artists trying to break in.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to give up everything to chase your dreams. You’re so brave.” Liar. Everybody knew that Sansa was forced to leave.

Sansa smiled more. “Thank you Uncle.”

Baelish led them to his private office, and the way that he patted her shoulder after he closed the door made her uncomfortable, but she held it in as she watched him take a seat.

“So how can I help you, my sweetling?”

“I need you to walk me through the Winterfell finances.”

“Certainly, I’ll make it as easy as I can for you to follow.”

Sansa started tapping her finger against the arm rest.

She resented his insinuation. She didn’t finish high school, but she learned to manage her finances, learned how much the Lannisters stole from her, knew how much she willfully turned away from because she needed the Lannisters as much as she hated them.

Still he did make it easy for her to understand, all the while outlining all of the paperwork.

Mama had been behind on bank payments for a long time, even after being given extensions consistently. Eventually, even Petyr’s generosity, so he says, couldn’t save the ranch. So Robb took out a private loan to cover the bank payments.

“Another bank?” she asked.

“No more personal than that. I believe Robb was good friends with Rhaegar’s boy.” He probably wanted to say bastard, but knew better since he was Robb’s best friend.

But she couldn't believe that Robb would be stupid enough to take out a loan from the Valyrian Dragons. Maybe he had a death wish after all.

“And that’s what’s keeping the ranch afloat now? Do you know how much we owe?”

Petyr gave a number and it wasn’t absurd, but, “This interest rate is insane. We won’t ever be able to touch the principle.”

Petyr shrugged. “I did try to warn your dear brother. I told him that it would be better for the bank to repossess the ranch. We would have certainly allowed your family to manage it still.” But he would own it all. “But alas your brother couldn’t see sense.”

She couldn’t tell if Robb was a prideful fool, or smart not to fall into bed with Petyr.

She thanked Petyr for his time and headed to the Dragon’s clubhouse. She had dreaded this part of coming home. Sansa hadn’t seen Jon in twelve years, and she didn’t know what kind of man he grew up to be. He had always been kind and sweet as a child, but kind and sweet men don’t join the Valyrian Dragons.

But she had to know if Robb had a plan all along, or if he was dumb enough to leave his family and the ranch at the mercy of the Dragons.

The clubhouse didn’t know if it wanted to be an auto shop or a bar or a boarding house, just the kind of trashy place that you would find in the south, because what else could it be?

She never thought she’d actually step in this place.

When she was still in school, the girls used to whisper about how they dreamed they would lose their virginities to one of the Dragons’ members. Egg would be ideal, with his pretty boy charm and silver hair, but Jon would do — he may have been shy back then, but the girls all took it as mysterious and dangerous. She wondered if the girls’ assumptions became true in his adulthood.

She assumed Egg must have been successful in popping a lot of cherries, but in her loneliness she sometimes liked to think that she was the only one for Jon, that she was somehow special, despite the mess she left.

There were a couple of pretty girlies loitering in the bar area of the clubhouse when she entered. They teetered around on high heels and tight skirts and tops, and suddenly Sansa wished she had the foresight to dress for battle. Instead she was wearing her stupid ripped jeans, work boots, and a white tee with a flannel shirt.

The girlies turned to look at her and their excited chatter died down. She’s guessing the red hair gave her away, or she really was more popular than she thought.

Out of the crowd of girlies, a silver haired woman emerged in black stilettos, leather pants and a black corset top. Shit, who could wear leather pants in this weather except for Daenerys Stormborn?

“So it’s true, the prodigal Stark daughter returns,” Dany said sweetly, but Sansa knew there was nothing sweet about the woman. She was all fire and ash. Dany probably thrived on the club wars.

Sansa shrugged. “Everyone’s gotta come home sometime.”

“Only when they’re incapable of surviving the world out there.”

“But at least I went out into the world.” Instead of being trapped in this hellhole.

“Only goes to show that you don’t belong here.”

“Winterfell is my home.” Even Sansa would have rolled her eyes at herself if she heard her speak.

“But the clubhouse isn’t. What do you want?”

“I need to speak to Jon.”

“No. You left him a mess all those years ago, and you think you can come waltzing in here years later and just talk to him? Wake up honey. He won’t want to talk to you.” Dany crossed her arms. “Whatever you want to say to Jon, you can tell to his girl.”

Dany had always wanted to claw her way into the Targaryens, maybe she finally did.

“It’s got nothing to do with you Dany.”

Dany waved her hand, flashing an engagement ring. “See this here? Says it’s got everything to do with me, missy.”

Sansa’s heart started pounding uncomfortably in her chest and she felt nauseous and lightheaded. Shit. Of all the damn times to have an anxiety attack.

She stumbled backwards into something solid.

“Sansa.”

The low, broken sound snapped her towards the man.

“Jon,” Sansa said, equally as broken.

Part 3

[snesdudes]

FIST FIGHTING WITH FIRE

chapter III

Pairing: Mason x f!Detective (Alice Santos)

Warnings: Book 3 demo SPOILERS!!! Cursing, some angst, mentions of sex, a guy being a creep™, I guess. Sorry if there are any mistakes!

Word count: ~1.8k

Summary: A week after that scene on Haley’s Bakery, Mason deals with the aftermath of his words... Or has he been dealing with it since the very moment he said them?

Read on ao3

chapter I ⭐ chapter II ⭐ chapter IV ⭐ chapter V

                                         ☾  一一一一一一一一一   ☽ 

Outside the bar

"Can we just… not do this?" Alice spoke into the phone, her free hand running through her red hair and messing the waves she had carefully done that evening. A sigh from the other end of the line indicated her mother's reluctance to let it go.

"You seemed to be perfectly integrated with the Unit some days ago, and this week you made up a meeting with the Captain just to avoid coming to the warehouse."

Alice cringed, not her finest moment. "Look, I'm with them now, having a drink together. We're fine. Everything's fine."

"Does this have anything to do with what's been going on with Mason?"

Hearing his name made the detective snap. "Wait, is this you being a mother or being a boss?" She spat, venom on her every word. "Because you've barely gained the right to meddle in my life as either of those things."

The silence was deafening, and Alice's heartbeat kept getting faster and faster. "You weren't there when Bobby broke my heart, you don't have to be here now." Her voice cracked as she finished the sentence and she had to clear her throat.

"Is that what happened? Mason broke your heart?" Tears threatened to spill out of her green eyes at the genuine concern on Rebecca's voice.

"No, he didn't." She answered with a whisper, rebuilding her carefully placed walls.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. I have to go, they are waiting for me."

"Alice, wait, tell me -"

She finished the call and stared at the phone's screen for a few seconds, taking calming breaths and trying to swallow the tears. The Unit would pick up on any change in her mood so she better calm down fast.

"Detective Santos. That looked intense."

She turned around quickly, finding the bearded man they were discussing inside before her mother called. Alice cleared her throat and offered a wobbling smile. "Kinda. Mr Rogers, wasn't it?"

"Please, call me Owen." He said, a wolfish smile on his lips as he offered his hand to her. Alice couldn't help but think of all the times the smirks Mason threw her way had seemed wolfish to her, and how different the chill she felt going down her spine was to the one she was feeling now.

Still, she was the detective of this town, so she shook his hand as professionally as she could. He took advantage of the situation to pull her slightly towards him, making her stumble on her heels and gaining a frown from her.

"I couldn't exactly walk up to you inside, surrounded by those guys. Popular, aren't you?"

Alice pulled her hand away and took a step backwards, creating some distance. "Those are my friends. And I would carefully think about what you say next if I were you, because so far you're doing a terrible job at flirting with me."

Owen blinked, slightly taken aback by her brashness, but recovering quickly and assuming she was challenging him. He didn't know he had picked the worst moment to annoy the detective, who usually was rather friendly and generous with her smiles. But the night had been a whirlwind of emotions and she was feeling irritated, miserable and ready to either go home and curl into the bed or get back inside and get shit faced drunk. Definitely not in the mood to deal with this man.

"I'm just saying you've probably let some of them get a taste." His grin widened, eyes travelling down her body. "Thought maybe I could be next. I'm sure I could teach you a couple of things… or maybe you could show me what you can do."

She opened her mouth to reply when a low growl interrupted her, making Owen turn around and allowing Alice to see Mason standing there, fists clenched and eyes narrowed, lips curled in a snarl. He looked dangerous, even more so than he usually did, and Alice tried to look at him from a stranger's eyes. Everything in his body and expression was screaming 'predator'. It would be the kind of situation where your body asks you to run even if you aren't sure about why you should be running. You just know you should. But she didn't feel fear, his anger was not directed towards her. She felt a thrill going through her body at his presence, forgetting her bruised heart for a moment.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?" The words were still growled as he stepped forward, and Owen took a step backwards, nearly colliding with the detective, who moved aside and around him. Mason reached out a hand to her, not moving his stormy gaze from the bearded man. Not even thinking, she slipped her hand into his and he gently moved her closer until she was tucked against his side. The detective had expected Mason to push her behind him, not keeping her by his side. She felt both of their bodies relaxing slightly at the touch, as if being close to each other was the only thing they needed in the world.

Owen looked at them with slight fear in his eyes. He could swear he had seen a glimpse of inhumanly big fangs when the long-haired man snarled. Mason's hand rested on her waist and her manicured one grabbed his shirt, his dark hair falling down his face and getting mixed with her red locks, tickling her cheek. He looked at him as if he was about to rip him apart, and the look on the detective's face let him know she would very much allow it… maybe even help him.

"Look," he croaked, "I didn't know she was with you. No harm done, okay?"

But his words didn't have the desired reaction. Another growl, and his snarl widened. It was taking all his self control not to pounce on this guy, but he knew he shouldn't. "So it was okay to be a creep to her when you didn't know? But suddenly a bad idea now you know she's my girl?"

Mason didn't miss the way her heart leaped inside her chest at his words and a pang of satisfaction almost made him shudder. If he hadn't been so fucking angry at the man standing before them he would have probably gotten goosebumps at the way she subtly pressed herself closer before speaking.

"You gotta learn how to treat women like human beings, you fucking dirtbag. If I see you creeping on anyone of this town I'll have you arrested for harassment."

The man nodded enthusiastically as he took another step backwards. Mason rolled his eyes with a huff.

"One of us is gonna kick your ass if you don't get lost. Now."

That was enough, and in a few seconds they were left alone in the street. Mason relished on her closeness, the scent of her honey scented shampoo tickling his nose, the warmth of her body expanding through their clothes and seeming to reach inside him. But she cleared her throat and he lost it all. She took a step away from him and the hand that had been resting on her waist fell limp to his side.

"Thank you. It would have been awkward if the detective of the town punched a newcomer in the dick." She chuckled awkwardly. "So, you know, thank you."

"You already said that."

She met his eyes and his forced grin let her know he was trying to mess with her to lighten the mood.

"Right. We should, uh, go back." She moved to walk past him, but his long fingers curled around her forearm and she spinned around to meet his face, now suddenly serious. He opened his mouth and closed it, his brow furrowed as if what he was about to say was too difficult to say it out loud. His fingers loosened their grip and Alice thought he was going to let her go. Of course he was going to let her go. He wouldn't face the way he hurt her because that would mean he accepted they had something worth saving. Her eyes dropped to his grip, wanting to watch, forcing to accept, he was never going to make her stay.

But his fingers tightened with new force, and her gaze snapped back to his face.

Grey eyes, tempestuous with emotion, stared at her, moving wildly through her features before he finally found the words.

"Don't go."

Her breath caught on her throat at the thought that he wasn't just talking about going inside.

He feels those things, alright. You gotta be patient while he figures them out.

Felix's words echoed inside her mind. The seconds that went by seemed to last an eternity, before she nodded slowly. Mason's shoulders dropped as he exhaled, as if a great weight had been lifted off them.

"Okay, Mason."

Meanwhile, inside the bar

"Maybe one of us should have gone outside to mediate." Nate sighed, staring inside his glass of scotch. "Those two aren't exactly good at sharing how they feel."

"Who knows." Felix shrugged, a grin widening in his face. "Maybe they're already back at Allie's apartment."

"Why would they…? Oh." Nate realised, eyes widening.

"They say the bigger the fight, the best the make up sex gets." Felix wiggled his eyebrows. "If that's true, they're in for a hell of a night."

Nate cringed, very much wishing Felix hadn't put that image of his friends inside his brain. "Ugh. I just hope Mason finds a way to fix whatever he's done without hurting her anymore."

"She knew what she was getting into by getting involved with someone like Mason." Adam said matter of factly. "He doesn't really try to hide his brashness."

Nate nodded, Mason was all sharp edges and bluntness, while the detective was much softer, gentle. It was easy for someone like her to get cut while trying to hold on to someone like him. Maybe it was a matter of how many cuts and wounds she could resist before letting go. But he liked to believe that wouldn't happen - instead, her softness would envelope his sharpness, showing him a side of himself he didn't even know it existed. A small smile bloomed on Nate's face as the thought.

"I think they both have to learn how to be around each other now that their relationship is changing."

Adam shrugged, but Felix let out a dreamy sigh. "You're such a romantic, Natey. Mason would learn so much from you if he didn't get nauseous every time he thinks about love."

Nate chuckled. "You know, maybe that's about to change."

                                     ☾  一一一一一一一一一   ☽ 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated 😍

TAGLIST: @agentnatesewell @gloynporslen @sunchipz @agentmasonjars @msjpuddleduck @utterlyinevitable @kat-tia801 @oxjenayxo

[clumsyclifford]

bella i’m just SAYING if you felt like writing boyfriend jalex in LA like they are rn why are they there just vibing together why is alex there i’m hella emo just saying i wouldn’t be MAD about it 😘

well PAIGE you may have been ONTO something here. alex is in LA because he loves his boy next question

read it here on ao3

-

Death By Hug is not a bad way to go, Jack thinks. It certainly beats Death By Loneliness.

The longer he and Alex stand here, the more Jack wonders if they really are going to die here, holding onto each other like Alex is a soldier returning from war and Jack is his lover who's been writing constantly to the front lines. Or something. It's also possible Jack has watched too many war movies lately.

"We gotta move," Alex finally mumbles. They’re at the gate and people are stepping around them.

"We don't have to."

"Well, I can't kiss you with a mask on."

That is a very good point. Jack squeezes Alex one last time and finally steps back.

Los Angeles looks good on Alex.

-

Supposedly, Alex is here to write. It's not like that's a lie; they are going to take advantage of Alex's presence and log as many studio hours as possible, but that still leaves a lot of early mornings and late nights unaccounted for. Well. For Jack it does. He knows Alex has been dying to get back in the studio, to put words to music in a way that sounds less like a kid messing around on his dad's guitar and more like a professional musician making demos. But if Jack has to pull Alex from the studio by force, he will. 

He will do his best. He is definitely not stronger than Alex but he will try.

For now, though, they have the evening to themselves.

Even with a suitcase, Alex looks right at home in Jack's place. "I'm gonna put my stuff in your room," he tells Jack, and Jack just nods.

"I'm gonna have some cereal," he decides, because he's in the mood for cereal and it is his right as a grown-ass man to eat cereal at all hours. Alex just laughs as he heads towards Jack's room, and Jack grins.

He heads for the kitchen and spends a minute deliberating over what cereal to have before yielding to the eternal power of Fruity Pebbles. They’re practically calling his name. Jack’s strong, but not that strong.

As he’s pouring the cereal into a cup, arms snake around his waist, squeezing tight.

“Hello, cereal boy,” says Alex, tucking his chin into Jack’s shoulder. “Mm, Fruity Pebbles for dinner. You’re the master of health.”

“Yes I am,” Jack says. “This is how they do it in L.A., Al.”

“Who exactly is ‘they’?”

“Me and Bree.”

Alex laughs. “Man, L.A. has really changed.”

“Maybe you should spend more time here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alex says. “Next global pandemic I’ll be sure to quarantine here with you.”

Jack shakes his head, smiling a little. “That’s all I want to hear. Do you want some cereal?”

“I was thinking we could order a pizza.”

“Oh, pizza,” Jack says, hesitating with his cup of cereal in hand. “Pizza sounds good.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I can have both.”

“You’re the weirdest person ever,” Alex says as Jack sets the cup down and turns around, forcing Alex to loosen his grip. The moment hits Jack full-force; it hadn’t really sunk in until now, but Alex is here. Here. In Los Angeles. With Jack.

Alex is here.

“I’m so fucking happy you’re here,” Jack says. Alex’s smile grows, the way it always does following any kind of emotion from Jack. It’s been weeks since Jack has seen that smile in person, weeks since Jack has seen Alex in person, and he’d forgotten how good it feels to be the reason for it.

FaceTime is good, but nothing is as good as the real thing.

“Well, I’m really fucking happy to be here,” Alex says, pulling Jack closer with the hands around his waist. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yes,” Jack says. “Same. Me too. I feel like I’m going to wake up any second.”

“What, and this will all be a dream?”

“Yes,” Jack says emphatically. It could be. He’s had similar dreams. Granted, he’s never eating Fruity Pebbles in any of them, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. 

“Me being here?” Alex asks, sliding his hands up Jack’s sides and chest to come to rest on his shoulders. “Or the whole pandemic?”

“I wish I could wake up and have the pandemic be a dream,” Jack huffs. “Or nightmare. Worst nightmare of my entire life.” He’s gotten a little bit off-track, but to be fair, Alex is being very distracting, what with the brushing noses and hands under the collar of his shirt and everything. Jack has yet to build up an immunity to Alex Gaskarth. This is something he has in common with the entire rest of the world.

Alex kisses him. Jack stops thinking about whatever it was he was thinking about. The important thing is that Alex is here and it’s not a dream, and Jack has Fruity Pebbles and his boyfriend and potentially pizza on the way and several hours of nothing at all, to occupy themselves however they choose. The possibilities are endless.

“Doesn’t feel like a dream to me,” Alex says sweetly, pulling back.

“You’re so mean,” Jack says. “Are you saying I’m not your dream guy?”

He gets an eyeroll for his troubles, but then Alex agrees to order the pizza, leaving Jack to eat his cereal in peace instead of having to deal with phones and Other People. Normally he’s a fan of Other People, but tonight it’s all Alex. 

(As far as Jack is concerned, as long as Alex is here, every night is all Alex.)

-

The pizza arrives as they’re half an hour into rewatching the first episode of The Mandalorian. This is the first and last time they pause until Alex yawns, and Jack realizes that midnight in L.A. is three in the morning in Maryland.

“Bedtime,” he declares. If Alex weren’t as nocturnal as he is, he probably wouldn’t have even made it to midnight. As it is, he drags his feet every step from the living room couch to Jack’s bedroom, including his detours to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Jack cleans up a little in the meantime, breaking down the pizza box to dispose of it and rinsing all the dishes for easier cleanup in the morning. The responsible thing would be to wash them now, but Jack can’t find any reason to be responsible. It’s his own home. He’ll wash dishes when he chooses.

By the time he’s turned all the apartment lights off and shuffled into his room, Alex is curled up under the blanket. His eyes are closed like he’s asleep but he’s breathing like he’s awake. Jack putters around, quietly putting on his own pajamas and brushing his teeth, before he, too, climbs into bed.

As predicted, Alex turns over. “Wh’time are we waking up?” he slurs.

Jack reaches blindly for his phone, plugged in on the side table. “Dunno. What time are we going to the studio?”

“Ten?”

Jack sets an alarm for nine, though it’s more for Alex’s sake than his own. “Okay. Done.”

“Love you,” Alex mumbles, burrowing into Jack’s chest. Jack smiles — he has his own stupid Alex smile for when Alex is being lovably, adorably, uniquely Alex — and pulls the blankets up over him. 

“Love you,” he hums, pressing a kiss into Alex’s hair. The quiet moment swells around them both. Jack falls asleep fast. He’s holding Alex close in his dreams, too, like even his subconscious can’t come up with anything better than this.

-

It’s hour nine in the studio, and Jack is ready to call it.

They’ve gotten a lot done. It feels good to be back, or as “back” as this is, back in the studio, back to writing music. Alex has obviously been overflowing with ideas from being cooped up at his farm in Baltimore, which has led to an extremely productive studio day. Hardly half an hour has passed without someone picking up a guitar. 

For the first eight hours, Jack is totally invested. This is his lifeblood, too, and by now he probably has a hundred separate voice notes of guitar riffs and chord progressions that he hadn’t wanted to forget. Getting those off of his phone and into real recordings is a big sigh of relief. 

Also, he and Alex are really good together.

This has been pretty reliably true throughout their career, but somehow it never fails to give Jack a thrill. Watching Alex’s eyes light up as Jack plays through Lead Guitar Part #37; his rapid “waitwaitwait play that again” as he pulls out his phone to scroll through lyrics jotted down in transient moments of thought; the spark that catches when somehow Alex has the perfect line to sing over this four-note riff that’s been echoing around Jack’s empty apartment for weeks. It feels a little like fate every time. Alex can drive a lyrical stake through an elusive melody like no other.

The progress today has been sufficient, so Jack thinks now is a good time to bow out, before they run out of steam. Quit while they’re ahead. There’s always tomorrow and the next day. Nine hours is a respectable studio day, and if today is any indication, they could have a song or two tomorrow at this rate.

It’s just, Jack wants to go home. He’s not going to say it — at least not yet — because Alex is still operating at full capacity. But he’s thinking it. If anyone asks, he won’t hesitate.

When Alex glances over, Jack is pretty sure it’s written all over his face.

“You okay, JB?” Alex says. His eyes soften around the edges when he smiles. It’s completely unfair. Just like Jack to have the most irresistible boyfriend on the planet. Perfect for being in love with, but extremely difficult for saying no to.

“Tired,” Jack says, biting his lip. The guitar he’s holding has been idling on his lap for about twenty minutes, ignored by Jack, who’s been on Instagram instead. Finally he sets it aside. “Just think I’m done for today.” As a compromise, he adds, “If you guys have another half hour, I don’t mind.”

“No, that’s okay,” Alex says. He glances at Zakk, who’s fucking with the levels or something. “Yeah? You think? Good for today?”

“Yeah,” Zakk says. He tilts his head bizarrely to flash a grin at Jack. “Man, it feels good to be back here with you guys.”

“Dude, don’t even start,” Jack says. “I think if I had spent another day alone at my place I would’ve probably, I don’t know, started trying to learn Korean or something.”

“Why fucking Korean?”

“Exactly.” Jack points at him, then at Alex, who jumps out of the rolly chair he’s been occupying and grabs Jack’s finger. Jack shakes his head, smiling, as Alex laces their fingers together and ducks down to kiss his forehead. “Is that a yes, we can call it?”

“I can call it,” Alex says. “Cervini?”

“Yeah,” Zakk says. “Let’s call it.”

And that’s that for the day.

-

The stupid TikTok they’d made on the way to the studio has, predictably, blown up. 

Jack can’t stop watching it; it’s a little bit cringey but that’s the point, and also, Alex looks insanely good in the red flannel and that yellow beanie. Maybe their merch is designed specifically to look good on Alex. Probably. Not that that’s difficult. Basically everything looks good on Alex.

“Stop watching it, oh my God,” Alex says, crawling into bed on top of Jack and flattening him against the mattress. Jack makes varying noises of protest as Alex pries his phone out of his hand, turns it off, and tosses it aside, forcing Jack’s attention instead to Alex’s face.

If he looks good onscreen, it’s nothing compared to real life.

“Lose some weight,” Jack grunts, shifting to tip them both onto their sides. They’re forehead-to-forehead, one of Alex’s arms trapped under Jack’s side and the other slung over his waist. “You’re not twenty-one anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you complaining?” Alex licks Jack’s cheek, and Jack’s protest of Alex, gross! is lost in Alex’s laugh. “Sorry. That was gross. I’ve just missed you.”

“Weird fuckin’ way of showing it,” Jack says, grinning. “I thought we kinda did this yesterday. We spent the entire day together. And I’ve missed you too.” He hesitates. “You could just stay here, you know.”

Except he couldn’t, and they both know that. Alex has a farm to tend to. He’ll be here as long as they’ve got time in the studio but then he’ll be gone, back to Baltimore. Growing up sucks sometimes. It means Jack has to be mature about Alex having a life of his own. If he expects Alex to respect his decision to stay in L.A., then Jack has to respect Alex’s decision to stay in Maryland. Which he does. He does.

But he also misses his boyfriend a hell of a lot. These days it’s worse than ever. They’ve never really been apart this long. 

“Come on,” Alex says, smile flickering. “Don’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Jack says. He sighs. “I take it back. I don’t want you to stay anyway. I don’t even want you in L.A. at all. Who invited you here? What are you doing in my house?”

Alex laughs. He extracts his arm from underneath Jack and runs his hand through Jack’s hair, slotting their legs together. “Cheapest listing on Airbnb. I was told there would be free sexual services?”

“Uh, I don’t know about free,” Jack says. He smirks and steals a kiss off Alex’s lips. “You can repay me by doing household chores.”

“Then it’s just fucking prostitution.”

“That,” says Jack, “is true.” Alex scratches lightly against the side of his face, and the kiss he draws Jack into is so sweet that Jack contemplates never ever breaking it. This is all he needs in life, just Alex — anywhere, but especially here. Jack has never found his apartment to be bleak, but now that he knows how vibrant it can be, how warm and lively when inhabited by Alex, he suspects it will feel grim when he’s alone again.

Thinking about the future gets dangerous. He’d much rather stay in the now. Alex is still kissing him, drawing Jack nearer in such a familiar way that when Jack closes his eyes he can almost hear the rumbling of the tour bus and the low murmurs of conversation happening outside their bunk. They’ve found themselves in this position too many times to count over the years, using the excuse of a small bunk to press together like they didn’t do exactly the same in two-person hotel room beds. It’s been too long since Jack has had anyone to cling to in bed. Comfort settles like a talisman in his chest.

They’re not twenty-one anymore, but sometimes it still feels like they could be. It was easier for the years to blur together when they were spent largely chasing their way across the globe. These days, the contrast between then and now feels blindingly stark. It’s nice to sink into something this familiar. Almost like Alex is pulling him back in time, too.

Or maybe like Alex is pulling the past into the present. Jack doesn’t feel twenty-one. He feels thirty-two and still in love with Alex. Eleven years from now, he’ll probably feel just the same. The way that Alex kisses him, holding him close, has nothing to do with how old they are. It’s only familiar because nothing has changed; Alex loved him then and Alex loves him now. 

Their love grows, but it never wavers.

Alex doesn’t pull away so much as just tilt his head until they’re not kissing anymore, tucking his face into Jack’s chest. “I’m tired,” he announces. Jack could basically have guessed that. It’s only eleven, but in Maryland time it’s two in the morning. 

“I know,” says Jack. “That’s why we’re in bed. To sleep.”

“Really, you want to sleep now?” Alex sounds surprised. “It’s not even midnight.”

“I am capable of having a responsible sleep schedule sometimes, you know.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Jack I know.”

You haven’t been around for a while, Jack doesn’t say. “Shut up, you bully. I take care of myself.” He makes a face. “Also I want to sleep when you do. I don’t think that’s a crime.”

“I’d love that,” Alex says. His words come out muffled. “I love you. Have I told you today that I love you?”

“No,” Jack says, smiling.

“Liar. I’m sure I did. But I’m telling you again. I love you.” Somehow Alex’s grip on Jack becomes even tighter. Prying him off is going to be a difficult task, if Jack can muster up the willpower to do it. It won’t be easy. This is probably Jack’s favorite position to be in, tangled up with Alex. It doesn’t hurt to hear Alex repeating, “I love you, you’re my favorite, I’m so happy I’m here,” quietly, almost as if to himself.

“You need to put on your pajamas,” Jack says. 

“I don’t wanna,” Alex whines. “I can sleep like this. Tour life. Too busy for pajamas.”

“So rock ‘n’ roll,” Jack says dryly.

“Yes. Exactly. I’m too cool for school.”

“Yeah. Really badass of you to fall asleep in a flannel.” Jack kisses Alex’s shoulder over the plaid pattern. “Which, may I say, looks very good on you.”

Alex hums contentedly. “See, that’s why I love you. Ego boost.”

“You are the most lead singer to ever lead singer. Jesus Christ.”

“Damn right I am, baby! Own it. I gotta own it.”

“Everything you say just dates you more. You sound so old.”

“You’re exactly as old as I am, old man,” Alex says, trying and failing to kick Jack even though Jack has both of his legs trapped.

“Old men put pajamas on before sleeping,” Jack informs him. “The buttons on this thing will be so uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“Yeah, but consider this,” says Alex, in the tone of someone about to make an extremely good point. “I don’t care and I’m tired.”

Jack sighs. “Seriously, you really wanna sleep in your clothes?”

“Yes,” Alex says. He buries his face in Jack’s neck, softly humming. When he speaks, Jack’s skin buzzes. “Please? Just tonight? I’m sleepy. Being a grown-up is for losers.”

Jack smiles to himself. “You’re such a lazy boy.”

“Yes. I am a lazy boy. This sounds like you agreeing.”

“I can’t stop you, can I?”

“Nope,” Alex says cheerfully. “But you can support me.”

“I support you all the time. I am literally the lead guitarist of your band. How much more supportive can I get.”

Alex laughs. It’s a tired laugh, on the brink of falling asleep, and Jack likes that he’s managed to make it happen at all. “It’s our band.”

“Comrade.”

Alex snorts. “Comrade.” He kisses Jack’s neck. “I’m gonna fall asleep right here, if that’s cool.”

“Get under the covers at least,” Jack says. It takes a little bit of bitching and moaning, but eventually Alex concedes, unsticking himself from Jack like it’s a physical burden to do so and crawling under the blanket with Jack.

“Oh,” Alex says, fishing around on the mattress underneath him. He pulls out Jack’s phone. “This is yours.”

Jack plugs in his phone and sets the same alarm he used yesterday. Loudly announcing that “boy is asleep” cuts out the lights. In the dark and quiet of the room, Jack hugs Alex as close as he possibly can, pressing his nose into Alex’s neck. It’s easy when Alex is making the same effort. Jack wonders if Alex feels the same as he does, like he has to engrave this memory in his mind, the way he’d never gotten a chance to when lockdown first set in. It had never occurred to him, before, that they’d be separated. That there might once come a time when Jack would want to hug Alex and Alex wouldn’t be there to hug.

Now, the threat of knowing that their clock is already ticking down is enough to make him want to burn this sensation forever into his skin and bones.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispers with a tight squeeze. “Did I tell you today that I love you?”

There’s a sleepy hum in response. “You tell me you love me every second of every day,” Alex murmurs. “But I never get tired of hearing it.”

Jack smiles. He breathes his own I-love-yous, softly enough that it’s almost white noise, and before Alex falls asleep he tilts his head towards Jack. His eyes are closed, so Jack closes the gap and brushes their lips together. 

Alex falls asleep soon after. Jack likes that, that neither of them have had the last word. The gentleness of the kiss soaks through his body and he drifts off with a smile, warm and content.

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

*quietly steps in* writing prompt........ one of them gets badly injured in a scenario where respawn is down. :) *quietly steps out*

ok this definitely isn't what you were expecting and i actually broke 2k w this one but. hoo boy. this was a beast to write. i hope it's worth a read :'>

-

Play Doctor

It's the final wave and everyone's just about ready to keel over, including and especially Medic. 

...Whoops?

-

After weeks upon months of battling the infernal things, the last wave of Grey Mann's robots had finally come. Miss Pauling had called in the night before, warning them that this was going to be the biggest one of all, but even then, none of them were quite ready for the sheer amount of metal men coming after their asses that day.

From the current trajectory, Engie could tell there were going to be almost, if not, a thousand of them, having stayed most of the wave on top of the building directly in front of where the robots came through with his Wrangler in hand and shotgun at the ready.

"Hey, Engie, you holdin' up aight?" Scout asked as he sprinted his way up the stairs and directly for the dispenser to pick up refill of bullets.

"Just about holdin' down the fort. How about y'all?"

"We're managin', I think! Doc's not lookin' too hot though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we're tryin' to make it easier for him since he's literally like the only thing other than your dispenser keepin' us alive right now ever since respawn went kaput, but compared to him there's lots of us and even more robots so it's kinda hard to keep together 'n' stuff."

It was then that Soldier had let out a rather annoyed sounding "BIG ROBOT!" at the sight of a giant Heavy approaching, both Engie and Scout looking over when they'd heard him.

"And I think that's my cue! Thanks for the bullets, Hardhat!" Scout nodded at him, reloading his Scattergun before hopping down the stairs two at a time and running back in for a rumble.

Engie, meanwhile, looked out over the sea of crumpled dollars and miscellaneous robot parts, scanning the field before his eyes locked on Medic. Even though he was a little ways away from him, he could see what Scout meant, frowning slightly as he let go of the Wrangler's joystick so his sentry could pick off any robo Scouts that happened to make themselves a nuisance.

Medic looked both mentally and physically exhausted, but he was still running after everyone else at top speed, deploying his shield and uber as often as he could while making sure that anyone who died, no matter how far away, got revived as soon as he realized they were no longer breathing.

It was excruciating work and Medic had been doing it almost every day for at least the past 2 months, having been practically forced to sharpen and hone his skills when the respawn machine had finally decided to kick the bucket when they were in the middle of repairs.

As the rest of their teammates focused on getting the giant to its knees (Scout in particular going around and bullying the two robo Medics it'd been sent in with), Medic had deployed his shield and stood directly in front of the robo Heavy, slowly backing up as it made its way forward with the bomb on it's back with various teammates standing a ways behind him.

In his concentration to not fall over or let anyone get riddled with bullets, however, he didn't notice the Spybot that had crept up behind him, Engie's eyes widened as he yelled out a startled "MEDIC!" in an attempt to get his attention.

However, Medic could only barely hear him over the explosion of the giant, turning around only to get stabbed right in the back of his left shoulder and letting out a scream that made Engie's blood run cold.

Without even thinking, he activated his sentry's shield and grabbed his shotgun before flying down the stairs to his left and running directly to where Medic had fallen over, shooting the Spybot to death before turning his attention to his healer boyfriend.

"Hey sweetheart, you still with me?" Engie asked as he carefully picked up Medic and all his gear, only getting a pitiful gurgle in response as Medic coughed up some blood onto his sleeve.

"...Ok, on second though, just don't talk," He grimaced as he hurried his way back up the stairs, carefully laying Medic on his side in front of his dispenser and unclipping the Medipack to reduce the stress on his body.

In the meantime, there seemed to be a reprieve in the number of robots coming, most likely so that Grey Mann could get ready to send out whatever final punishing attack he had stored up his sleeve. The rest of the team made quick work on the stragglers before making their way back to resupply one final time as Engie reached for some of the supplies he kept in the dispenser, pulling out a towel, a vial of healing gel, bandages, and medical tape.

"Alright, I'm gonna take this little number out of your back now so you can actually heal up properly so uh. Sorry, in advance," Engie mumbled as consolingly as he could, Medic barely mustering enough strength to gurgle back before he was screaming in pain again.

"I know honey, I know, I'm sorry," Engie winced as Medic coughed and wheezed for breath, throwing the knife over the edge before applying pressure to the stab wound to lessen the blood flow while letting the dispenser do it's work in actually healing it.

When he started wheezing less, Engie let go and wiped his hands with the towel he took out so he could actually hold things. He then took the vial of healing gel, popped off the cap, ripped through a bit of Medic's clothing, and used the towel to soak up some of the excess blood before slathering gel on his still rather awful looking wound and covering it in bandages and medical tape.

He then readjusted Medic so that his head was in his lap, carefully pushing his hair out of his face and pushing his cracked glasses further up his nose so they wouldn't fall off.

"That a little better?"

Medic coughed a few times but nodded, attempting to sit up and reach for his gear only to collapse back into Engie's lap.

"Fuck. No, no, no, not now," Medic whined softly, Engie grimacing slightly.

"Sorry starry eyes, I don't think you'll be getting back up any time soon."

"I don't have a choice. They- they're going to get destroyed out there without me," Medic hissed, making another attempt to get up before Engie stopped him.

"Honey, you're exhausted. I was honestly surprised you were still standing before you got stabbed in the back but I think that was the tipping point that told your body to give up."

Medic didn't say anything for a few moments but Engie could see the deeply panicked look in his tired eyes as he tried to think of something he could do.

"I. I can't. They need a healer, what.. What am I going to do?"

Engie thought about it before taking a deep breath.

"I'll do it."

"...What??"

"I'll do it. II'll take your place until the wave is over."

"Engie... Are you sure? Do you really think you can keep up with them all?"

"Honey, I have no idea, but I know if you go in there again, you're going to die. Full stop. And if you die, everyone else is gonna follow after. Besides, I've worked on the Medigun enough to know how it works, and a rusty healer is better than no healer."

Medic seemed to mull it over before sighing, still obviously unhappy about the situation but a little less... reluctant."

"Ok. Alright. Fine."

"Yeah?"

"But... What am I going to do, then? I can't just sit here and watch you all suffer," Medic frowned.

An idea then came to Engie's head as he reached for the Wrangler (that he may or may not had carelessly thrown to the side before he'd gone to get Medic), offering it to him.

"Think you can still aim?"

Medic looked at both him and it warily.

"It won't fire at the team or nothin' if you accidentally point the beam at one of us. Safety's still on. And you could always just let go and let it autoaim if there ain't anythin' you need to focus."

He hesitated once more before sighing.

"...Alright. At least help me up so I can see them, though."

Engie nodded, handing it to him and guiding his hands to where they should hold it before moving him up so he was sitting up and leaning against the dispenser, legs dangling over the ledge of the building.

"That good?"

"Mm."

"Ok. I think they're gonna start back up soon so..."

Engie hurriedly went over to the small pile of Medic's gear he'd put down, removing his wrench from his pocket (but keeping his pistol), clipping the Medipack onto his overalls, and inspecting the Medigun's various apparatuses.

"This one's for uber, this one's for shield. This dial ups the intensity and this one activates crits," Medic said, leaning over a bit and pointing to indicate what he was talking about.

"I know that, I helped you upgrade it for Christ's sake."

"And I'm reminding you. You've never done this before and I'm worried," Medic insisted. Engie merely moved over to push his hair back again, giving him a kiss of the forehead.

"It'll be fine, Sunshine. I promise. Stop worryin' your pretty little head off."

Medic's expression softened.

"Well you've never given me a reason to doubt you so. Good luck, mein Lieber. And if we uh..."

"Yeah?"

"...If we. Fail. Or if one of us doesn't make it, I just want you to know that I love you. I really do. Please never forget that."

"I love you too, baby, more than you could ever know. And we're going to make it. I know we will."

Medic smiled weakly, managing to bap his head against Engie's softly.

"You should head over. The robots are coming any minute now, I know they're expecting me. Well. You, now, I suppose."

"Roger that, boss," Engie grinned playfully, bapping him back before standing up and making his way down the stairs and over to where the other 7 mercenaries were huddled in a group, trying to plan out their final attacks.

"...and I think there's gonna be another 4 tanks this time so we gotta- oh hey Tex!" Demo smiled, waving at him.

"Howdy, y'all."

"Engineer! Is good to see you but. Where is Medic?" Heavy squinted.

"Sorry big guy, but uh. Medic's out of commission for now."

"So then who's gonna..." Scout trailed off before realizing that he was holding the medigun.

"No way."

"Yeah way."

"You- you're gonna be Medic now?"

"It's either me or you die. Pick your choice."

"Well-"

Scout paused.

"Ok, that's fair actually."

"What's Medic doing then?"

Engie turned back to wave at Medic from where he was sitting on top of the building, fiddling with the Wrangler, the rest of the team turning to see him wave back.

"Huh. So you guys are switchin' places today?"

"In a way."

Before anyone else could say something, they were all silenced by the slight rumbling beneath there feet, looking over to the large carrier over the horizon.

"Well, enough chitter chatter. See you on the other side, everyone. I looked forward to our victory," Spy hummed before clicking his watch, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Sniper nodded to everyone before heading to his usual sniping area, the others forming a sort of spaced out wall across the battlefield with Engie front and center.

"Everybody ready?" He called out as he pushed the handle of the medigun down and hovered his finger over the shield switch, getting various affirmations and war cries in response.

However, they were once again cut off by the feeling of the ground rumbling, the last of the hordes came into view. First up was dozens and dozens of robo Scouts and Demos led by a rather large Pyrobot, everyone getting a proper grip on their weapons in anticipation.

Engie let out a nervous sigh before cracking his neck on both sides, flipping the shield on, and mumbling softly to himself.

"Alright, Dell. It's time for you to play doctor."

[eerythingisshaka]

Will the Bell Ring? Pt. 6

[Erik Killmonger x Black!OC]

Word Count:  6.7K

A/N:  I am now inspired to write again because a tweet said that Disney+ had hella issues on the date it dropped and 10 million people still stuck around to watch it.  I’m taking that same energy with me.

“Mara, I won’t ask you again.”  Erik says sternly.  Kimara looks around casually, glad that they are at least located in a public place...though he still doesn’t seem to care.

“MARA!”  Erik barks.

“Don’t cause a scene!  Damn, you have absolutely no common sense!”  She hisses as an elderly white couple looks away and walks faster down the path.  A breeze starts to pick up in the air, causing the treetops to dance in the distance.

“Really?  All I got is common sense when I hear you tryna pull a fast one on me.  And to bring someone I respect in on this, that’s fuckin low!”

Kimara adjusts her seating on the bench as the metal digs into you thigh meat.  “Respect??  Oh please, you were just knocking him on some petty shit last week!  And I didn’t mean to!  Ok?  I’m sorry!”

“For what?  I need specifics, lay out the entire situation for all the other nosy white folks walkin round the park today.  They wanna see someone act a fool, I’ll give it to them if you keep pussy footin around.”  Erik leans back on the bench, spreading his chest wide with pride as he stares her down.  She can’t stand him.

Kimara lets out a sigh, laying one hand on his inner thigh for extra focus.  “I am sorry...for putting you through so much pain and agony.  I know how much the relationship means to and I shouldn’t have put it in danger by getting myself involved without talking to you first.  And even then, I should’ve known better.  I couldn’t even enjoy it without thinking about you and what you would think.  So...never again.  I promise.”

Erik scratches his chin, bouncing his leg before dipping his head down to look at Kimara over his fake gold rimmed eyeglasses with matronly contempt.  “Long as you learnt never to watch Euphoria without me, we good.”

Kimara squeezes his leg, letting out a huge sigh of relief.  “Thank God.  You really bout to cut me over Fez and Rue huh?”

Erik sits up, clapping his hands together.  “They are the true OTP if I ever seen one.  They ain’t even gotta be intimate or whatever, just the fact that someone been through her journey and is now doing everything to help clean her up while the forces of small white town bullshit enable her is...poetry dawg.”  Erik leans back shaking his head in awe.

“Babe, you are sappier than a maple tree in the summertime.”  Kimara shakes her head, the loveliness of their conversation filling her head like a delicious fog she didn’t want to ever see the end of, but Erik’s lunch break was almost up.

Erik kisses her softly, making Kimara wipe the transfer of her gloss off his lips.  

“Uh uh!  Don’t worry bout all that baby.  If that shit makes your lips as good as I like, I could use some too.”

“You so stupid!”  Kimara cackles as they both get off their bench and walk side by side: his hand on her hip, her arms locked around his waist with one ear to his chest.

“This was nice.”  Erik says distantly, more to himself than to her.

Kimara cranes her face toward his.  “Yeah?”

He nods.  “Yeah, just to not think about any of the bullshit we’ve had to deal with, enjoy God’s creations out here in the gentrified park.  I feel like a damn retiree with stock and bonds and 401K real fat.”

Kimara settles in step with him again.  “But you have all those things…”

“But I ain’t retired!  White America don’t want a nigga to retire.  Swear everything would go belly up if Black folks could live off of the fruits meant for them.  They’d burn the whole damn thing down before that would happen.”

Kimara rubs his back to settle him.  “Peaceful thoughts, remember?”

Erik’s chest expands and caves.  “Aight.  But real life is literally around the corner, so as much as I would like to have you in my office, I got shit to take care of.”  Erik takes her chin and lifts her face up to his.  “My Mara, My Mara…”

“...I’ll never be farther.”  Kimara says with only slight embarrassment beause their little saying is so damn cute.  Erik used to do cute rhymes with her name around the quad whenever she got down on herself or he thought he had her on the ropes to giving in to him.  Rarely worked, but constantly appreciated.   “I gotta go get some extra stuff for our dinner party later this week, so hopefully I won’t be too long at the studio.  We got a new artist laying down a demo that should be pretty fire.”

Erik puts a fist to his mouth excitedly.  “Oh worm?  Finally my lady finna be the new M-M-M-Maybach Music!”

Kimara rolls her eyes.  “I’ll be more than that!  I got about two songs on there I’m getting writing credit for.  I may wind up on the radio and you don’t even know it.  But you’ll know them checks!”

Erik couldn’t smile harder if he had hooks in his mouth.  “Your passion got you going off!  Nothing wrong with it either, you deserve it.   It’s been a long time coming.”

“It has.  So, go on so I can make this deal happen.”

They locked fingers until distance forced them to break their grip.  Erik waves  off Kimara as she saunters up the path to the main road.  His chest swelled with pride over his lady, she’s always been one of a kind.  Her happiness is his happiness, without question.  As he walked away, across the exquisitely decorated post modern/art deco lobby, to the elevator to the 33rd floor to his office, a cloud of dread weighed back on him that only got better with the help of Alaina.  If she wasn’t his partner on this revamp project with Boeing, he’d be shitting himself on a regular.

Erik walks by a conference room, stopping short of turning the corner of the glass walls.  He opens the door and peeks inside to see his friend hunched over a laptop, jumping slightly in her seat as he came across the room towards her.

“Damn, Erik!  Why do your big ass feet step so lightly?  Almost gave me a heart attack!”  She breathed out a ragged sigh of relief.

Erik pulls out a chair to sit down, chuckling at her expense.  “My bad,  I just had to come in when I seen you slaving away in here.  Figured you could use a distraction.”

Alaina smooths her hair back in her bun, her nude colored mouth in a tight, closed smile.

“I WISH you were a distraction for me, but unfortunately this involves the both of us.  While you were on break, Asshole and Son recommend we draft a final proposal for the FAA to approve.”

Erik sat shocked.  “What? Fuck, I mean that’s fucking crazy but kind of exciting too, right?”

She wags her finger.  “Don’t forget we are only the field niggas round here.  It sounds like an honor but in the end I am sure little Leave it to Beaver will be taking all the credit his daddy can send his way in order to keep the big wigs in good graces within the family.”

Erik taps his fingers on the deep wooden table, thinking.  Would they really double cross him that far?  Bringing him in on a project to mentor the bosses son only to pull the rug up under him and make him look like player two?

“That’s so damn white, sounds right.”  Erik sighs in somewhat disbelief.

Alaina shrugs.  “Told you.  And until I hear it from him otherwise, that’s what I’m going to assume.”  Alaina sighs and stretches her shoulders before going back in on the keyboard.  

Erik furrows his brow.  “If that’s it, then why are you still working on it?  Don’t you wanna pack up and move on?  You were brought here special for this, your time is wasted the most.”

Alaina’s eyes cast a ‘nigga please’ gaze on Erik.  “Mr. Future Baby Fava, I think our time has been equally wasted.  But guess what isn’t cut for my time here?  My pay: which is double what I make at my primary while I’m here so…”  She slowly leans over to grab Erik’s wrist.  “...until I hear the fat white man sing, we’re gonna work on this project for as long as we can to milk that cow til it lays a golden goose egg and rolls the tortoise to the finish line!”

Erik scoffs.  Alaina’s antics are half the reason Erik can’t quite distance himself from her.  She has a liveliness that he’s kind of missed lately.  “Man, you a trip and a fifth.  But I like your style. Might as well get it done then.”

“Oh fuck that, I’m done for the day.”   Alaina crisply closes her laptop, packin it under her arm and grabbing her case with the other.

“Whatchu mean?  I thought you said-”

“I worked through my lunch, like a boss ass bitch does.  You gotta work yours off, so Imma leave you to it.  Call me if you bleeding out your ears from stress: no less than that.”

Erik rolls his eyes as he gets up and watches her walk away.  The woman is working his last good nerve on purpose, but he likes it.  The job isn’t as boring or predictable with her around.  Now he just has to show her who the superstar has been all this time.  If he works hard at this, it won’t be for these fat cats, it’s gonna be a bonafide competition and he ain’t scared to fight a girl.

—

At the studio, Kimara finishes up a session with a local up and coming artist named Delilah.  Sweet girl, comes across very introverted until a mic is in front of her.  Kimara appreciated her vibes and talent, baby girl is on trend so long as she stays cute she is bound to be noticed.  Kimara ends their session a little early, wishing her well when it was time to wrap.  

Kimara felt like the studio was her second home most of the time but today she had to get to her real home REAL quick to get dinner prepared.  Tonight is the double dinner date with T’Challa and his boo of the moment.  She kept trying to get ahold of Erik for help with ingredients but he kept leaving her on read.

Rick, the studio owner caught Kimara before she was able to get out the door.

“Hey Rick  I know I cut things early, but I don’t have a lot of time unfortunately.  I have dinner to take care of tonight with some friends that is so damn important, you wouldn’t believe.”

Rick smiles a large proud papa smile.  “Oh I won’t keep you, but this news might.  Remember Peter Gafflin?  Legendary alternative rock/country artist extraordinaire who really love you last time y’all were in the booth together.”

Kimara couldn’t forget that man from their last session.  She hadn’t been exalted for her talent that highly since Petey Pablo came in that one time and promised her name would be on a Freek A Leek remix.

“Yeah, what about him?” She asks.

Rick could not help his smile to save his life.  “He called me up earlier today, saying he is planning to go on the road soon.”

“Yeah, yeah.  That happens often when you drop a new album.”  Kimara says impatiently.

“Right.  So he was thinking that you would hopefully be available to join him for some shows on his North American leg of the tour.”

Kimara stood there like the Men In Black just wiped her memory.  “Are-are you serious?  When?  How?  What would I do??”

“He wants you to SING for him like you did that day, background vocals and he thought a duet portion would be nice too.  You know the song ‘Boys Aren’t Born on Tuesdays?’”

Kimara clutches her chest.  “Oh my God, that song is so rich.  And he wants ME  to sing it with him?”

“Uh huh!’  Rick slaps her arm in congratulations, but Kimara could barely feel anymore.  

“In front of thousands.  Across America...oh my God!”

Rick and Kimara hug excitedly, so much so that Rick has to wipe his eyes a little.  “So is that a yes?”

Kimara stopped cheering to finally think a little.  “I mean, I don’t know.  If this was any other time I would say yes, but...I have some obligation here.  I’m deep into trying to start a family and settle a little.”

Rick makes a face of pity.  “I understand, I know.  And I hope you do get that.  Just…”

“Just…”   Kimara parrots.

“...it’s Peter Gafflin.”

“It is Peter Gafflin.”  Kimara says disheartened.  She had been waiting for years to get something off the ground with a top tier artist, but the universe had a funny way of timing.

“Did I mention how much pay is?”  Rick muses.

--

Kimara fans herself with a newspaper as she watches the rolls baking in the oven.  She is so thankful to have gotten dessert from the bakery, because she was over it with cooking.  She checks her phone for the time:  ten minutes til 7.  Her notifications show nothing from Erik yet, though she texted him twice today reminding his to not forget them hosting T’Challa and his girl.  Twice, Erik texted that he’s got her, but that was five hours ago, now who knows what the hell he is up to.  It would be perfect to bring up her good news with him in front of T’Challa and his date, while he smiles up at her with a hand inconspicuous and possessively on her behind...

But the light and fluffy feelings for the evening were quickly dwindling.  Before she could send a last threatening text to convince him to bring his ass, the doorbell sounds at the last sentence.  Kimara curses out loud, grabbing her oven mitt to take out the rolls that are a perfect golden brown.  She dabs her brow with a spare dinner napkin before clopping her way to the door.

Opening it with a flourish, Kimara opens her arms in excitement.  

“You made it!”  She says with a cheery song.

T’Challa looks at her fondly, his mouth slowly curling into a smile.  Kimara warms up to seeing her friend at her doorway.

“I was going to say it has been too long, but time moves backward for you.  You look beautiful.”

Kimara places a hand on her hip for emphasis, trying to withhold her joy in his compliment in the worst way.  “Oh please, it hasn’t been that long.  You cleaned up good too.”

Kimara always enjoyed the way T’Challa dresses like royalty without even meaning too, choosing pieces that elongate his lean body, squaring his wide shoulders to create a proud presence.

T’Challa places a hand to his date’s lower back.  “Iman has been looking forward to this night all week.”

A smiling Iman holds out a bottle of Proseco.  “T  has told me so much about you and your husband.  You all seem to be a pretty tight family.”

Kimara takes the chilled bottle and leads them inside.  “Oh yes.  We have all known each other for so long, I can’t imagine not having known them.”  

Placing the bottle on the table, Kimara claps her hands anxiously.  “So I have prepared us a nice little salad and a pork...uh...pasta ”  Kimara’s mind goes blank trying to remember what it’s called, she had only Googled the recipe that day.  Tapping her foot, fidgeting, Kimara gives up.  “Hell, some type of pork and spaghetti with peppers and shit.  It’s got cheese too, it’s good.  LEGGO!”

T’Challa and Iman chuckle as they head to the dining room.  “Well whatever it is it smells great!  I know your man must be fat and happy living with you.”  Iman gushes, pulling out her chair to sit at the table.

Kimara shakes her head humbly as the unwraps the foil on the proseco.  “Lucky for me, he is pretty active at the same time so it sticks in the right places.  If only he could actually BE in the right places when we schedule things that way.  Oh shit, lemme find a cork opener.”  

Kimara rushes into the kitchen slamming drawer after drawer looking for the elusive corkscrew.  She slams the bottle down a little too hard in frustration and hears the vibration of her phone on the counter next to her.

“Do you need assistance, Kimara?”  T’Challa’s steady, gentle voice says behind her.  She turns to see his concerned face looking down at her, hands firmly planted behind him respectfully.  

Kimara waves her hand in frustration.  “Aht aht!  It’s fine, don’t leave Iman alone in there!”

“She is fine.  Are you?”  He asks quietly while opening a cabinet above the sink.  

Kimara opens her phone to look at her notification.  “Been better.  Rather not talk while I’m supposed to be entertaining you guys.”

“But-”

Kimara puts her phone down hard.  “RAGU!  It was a pork ragu!  With basil fettuccine, ugh!  DUH!”  Kimara turns to see T’Challa holding the corkscrew in his hand.  

T’Challa continues, ignoring her topic change.  “You should let me know if he isn’t being good to you.”

Kimara takes the corkscrew in one hand, bottle in the other trying to maintain her blood from boiling.  “No I don’t.  I would discuss that with my husband.”  

“And he is where?”  T’Challa asks calmly as Kimara walks past him and back to the table.

“God, what a help your beau is, we can finally have a much needed sip sip, eh?”  Kimara exclaims a little too happily, sitting at the table as she drills the corkscrew in.

T’Challa opens the glass serving dish to examine dinner.  “This smells very good, I will fix a plate for you, Iman.”

“No!  I should serve you, Mr. King!  Move your hand from that spoon.”  Iman gets up, swinging her hips happily from side to side, digging the serving spoon into the delicious mix of sauce, noodles, and meat.  

T’Challa gives a shy smile.  “I appreciate it greatly, thank you.”  

Kimara jerks the corkscrew out of the bottle too hard, knocking the handle against the table, causing T’Challa and Iman to look at her with shock.

“Pop goes the weasel, right?”  Kimara giggles as she pours a third of the bottle into her glass, half an inch from the brim.  She takes ahold of her glass, taking  a few hearty gulps.

“So!  Tell me how are things with you all, still in the honeymoon phase?”

Iman finishes off her plate, settling in to eat.  “Well,  I wouldn’t say that.  Me and T are still kinda getting to know each other still, so I think honeymoon phase is a little too soon to call,”  she says as she nervously scratches the back of her head as T’Challa just keeps on eating.

Kimara starts to feel warm, keeping mental note that the fucking must’ve halted between them.  “Well there’s no need to rush at all.  Relationships are so much damn work, it must be nice to cuddle up to a stranger every so often.”

Iman offers some wine to T’Challa who declines.  “Have things been going well at the studio?  Recording?”

“Oh yeah, more than recording actually.  Sure, I just wish that I had the gumption to pull the trigger on doing some of my own shit.  I got a lot of praise from artist and even the owner of the studio; I’ve known him a long time.  But when it all comes down to it I just wonder what’s the point.  That’s all gonna change soon though, no worries about me!”

Iman pouts with sympathy.  “What do you mean?!  You are a damn good looking lady and to have talent enough that people brag about, you gotta do something with it while you’re young and able!”

“I know I’m young and able.  Well, I’m trying to start a family while I’m still young and able too.”  Kimara mumbles, slumping in her chair.

“Oh!  You are?  Congratulations!  From what little I remember from the night I met T, he seemed like a handsome guy with a good head on him.  If he hadn’t brought us home, we may not be seeing each other now.”  Iman’s hand disappear under the table to presumably T’Challa’s thigh, who looks over at her with kind eyes.  “And that reminds me of your story.  So T here got you and your husband together.  What are the details on that?”

Kimara is two sips from the bottom of her glass.  “Ohhh, that’s not dinner conversation unfortunately.”

Iman makes eyes at her.  “Oooh, that scandalous huh?  We all adults here, but I understand.  Me and T weren’t very biblical our first night meeting so, hey.”

T’Challa wags a finger.  “It’s not that, don’t be crass.”

Iman tuts at him.  “I’m just being friendly, what’s the issue.”

“It’s a personal story.  It should wait until Erik is here at least.”  T’Challa offers.

Kimara puts her glass down, plate still empty or any dinner.  “I don’t wanna bring that nigga up here anymore tonight, aight?”

Iman freezes mid bite as T’Challa sits up in his chair.  “Kimara, please-”

“Uh uh!  I’m in my house, I say what I want, I won’t be talked down to.  Iman?”

Iman is still frozen.

T’Challa speaks up.  “I’m just saying-”

“I’m talking!  Iman?  My husband and I have been trying to have a baby for months now, fucking like rabbits and I have yet to get pregnant.  It’s gotten so I think he;s getting tired of fucking with me and now he is out ‘working late’.  Now, he loves me because we have been through a lot to get to the point of being a married couple and he has had to prove himself loyal to me after...a lot of bullshit.  But I ain’t got it in me to discuss play the Newlywed Game with you cuz hell if I know what my husband is up to anymore.”

T’Challa gets up from his chair abruptly, scraping the chair across the floor, stomping towards the kitchen.

Kimara starts to laugh out loud.  “Oh shit, I think he’s pissed!  Ohh, let me see what this is about…”

Iman sits up anxiously.  “Do you need help?”

“No, no!  I got him, he’s very reserved with his frustrations, so I can deal.”  Kimara stomps into the kitchen.  “Now what is up with you??”

T’Challa takes a towel off of a rack, folding it twice.  “Did you need to unload on her like that?”

Kimara leans on the counter.  “Sure, woman to woman.  She seems to appreciate it.”

T’Challa opens the oven door, a plume of smoke billows out.

“Fuck!  Oh noooo, my rolls!”  Kimara exclaims, running to a window to open and fan out the smoke.  

T’Challa puts the baking sheet to the sink.  “I was trying to tell you I smell smoke.”  He tossed the towel down making the sheet clang.

Kimara fans her face, coughing.  “Oh, shit.  I just forgot.”

“Mhm.  You forgot your head this evening that’s certain.”

“What do you mean by that, T??”  Kimara asks mockingly.

T’Challa glares at her.  “If things weren’t going good, we could’ve rescheduled.”

“It’s funny you think I plan for my life to fall apart, cuz that is how it works right?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No, no one means to hurt my feelings or make me feel like shit until it happens.  You want me to be the perfect host.  Erik wants me to be a good wife and mother when I can’t even get a bun in the ov-”  Kimara stops short of the sentence.  T’Challa hangs onto silence waiting for her to finish.

“T’Challa, what if this is all a sign?  I burnt the rolls in the oven...because I can’t keep a bun in the oven?  Like pregnancy?  I can’t bake anything!!”  Kimara wails as she covers her mouth crying.  T’Challa goes over to her but stops short as Iman enters the kitchen.

“Hey, if everything is under control, I might head out.”

T’Challa looks back at Kimara then Iman.  “Well, let me call you a ride.”

“Already did.  Kimara, dinner really was good, I’m sorry to leave so soon.”

Kimara has her back turned, wiping her face before facing her.  “Thank you for coming.  You’re as nice as I heard.”

“I will walk you out then.”  T’Challa offers as they leave Kimara in the kitchen.  Her phone begins to ring, as she picks it up to find Erik’s name glowing on the screen.  All she can do is silence it, she was in no mood to talk, otherwise she might have to make a Lemonade album about it.  

Kimara goes back to her dining room table, sitting down to the bottle of wine.  T’Challa comes back in, closing the front door behind him.

“Eh, eh.  Put that down.  Eat something instead.”

Kimara groans as she swallows one more gulp from the bottle before getting it snatched from her hand.

“I’m not feeling your vibes T’Challa, honest.”  

“Vibes?  Do you hear yourself talking?”  

“Yeah I do.   That’s all I ever hear is my damn self.”

“You are not supposed to be drinking while planning a family, aren’t you?”  T’Challa asks softly, sitting next to her.

Kimara sighs deeply.  “I’ve done everything right.  All I’m supposed to do is carry, I can’t even get there.  God, I would kill for even a miscarriage, just to know that I didn’t completely fuck up my reproductive system!”

“STOP IT!”  T’Challa’s voice booms between them, reverberating off the walls.  Kimara sits upright, looking away from T’Challa’s face.  His energy calms as he leans a little further towards her.

“You do not deserve to beat yourself up like this.  Do you realize how far you’ve come in life from when I first met you to now?  There is no one as smart or witty or brilliant as you that I can also put faith in as a friend.”

Kimara fidgets with her fingers.  “Good thing Iman isn’t here to hear that.”

T’Challa sits back, taking a swallow of wine from the bottle himself.  “I won’t edit my statement, but she is a nice girl.”

“I still like Nakia better.”  Kimara says matter of factly.

T’Challa bristles at the name, looking into the distance.  “Yes, I guess she is my kryptonite, however too flighty.”

They sit in silence for a beat.

“What about that night?  What did it mean?” ��Kimara asks.

T’Challa’s brow furrows.  “Which do you…”

“A few weeks ago?  My car?”  Kimara rubs her face roughly.  “Ughh, I hope it’s not the wine talking but I swear there was a moment that felt like...a thing.  Am I wrong?”

T’Challa does something he does not always do:  he begins to stutter.  It’s slow, without the skip, but a stutter nonetheless.

“I...Well...hmm,”  He says before his mouth motions wordlessly.

“...T?”  Kimara asks teasingly.  “It’s ok!”

He looks her in her eyes intensely, like she just cursed him out.  “Huh?”

Kimara shrugs.  “We didn’t do anything so it’s ok.  Don’t sweat.  That’s why I’m glad we are friends cuz I know nothing bad happens when you’re around.  No craziness, drama, you just bring me back down to earth with a good talk.  It was just a moment.  Gotta remember that.”  Kimara pats his knee and gets up.

“Wait, so were you thinking of me in a way that night?”  

Kimara sees a light flash across the curtains of her window.  “Well, look at this.  Daddy’s home.”  Kimara comes back to the table to pick up plates.  “T’Challa go ahead and have a good night.  You don’t wanna be here when I’m throwing dishes into the sink until Erik comes in and has the nerve to ask what the fuck is wrong with me.  When the whole nigga nerve of it all is that he would have the gall to think I’m wrong to begin with!”

T’Challa waves his hands heading for the door.  “I am already gone.”

--

The early morning sun is extra bright as erik drives himself and Kimara to see their regular fertility specialist Dr. Tracy.  

“I’m glad she was able to see us today.”  Erik says.

“Are you?”  Kimara asks while scrolling through her phone.

Erik scratches himself.  “Ion know, I just…”

“What?”

“I mean...if we do this it’s like cool, we finna get a baby off top-”

Kimara tuts at him.  “No!  She said that it still isn’t guaranteed.  We are good candidates but not to expect success right away.”

Erik lets out a groan.  “Right, right.  Can’t no shit come easy for me.”

Kimara looks at his profile as he drives, catching Erik looking out the corner of his eye.  “What you lookin at me like that for?”

Kimara crosses her arms.  “I’m just trying to figure out what to title your sob story in all of this.  ‘I do what I want and when it don’t go like I plan I pout?’  Or ‘Fuck everything and everyone, I’m going through it but don’t ask me what’s wrong?’”

“Damn Mara!  The fuck you gotta go there for?  The minute I try and share something with you, you bite my fucking head off!”

“Watch yourself cursing at me!  I ain’t in the mood for it, and I ain’t letting it fly like that today, ok?  I don’t need this much excitement before an appointment.”

“Then don’t go nuts on me like you some damn comedian, roasting my ass.  I’m here ain’t I?”

“Do you not wanna be?!”  Kimara shrieks.

Erik goes silent, turning on the click of his turn signal.  The tension in the car is sky high and although Erik doesn’t mind a fight, he knew not to act a fool in front of these doctors in this side of town.  

Kimara leads inside to check in with the receptionist.  As they sit in the lobby, Erik is glued to his phone the entire waiting period, fingers texting furiously.

“Why ain’t you holding my hand?”  Kimara asks.  “You always hold it while we wait.”

Erik looks over quickly and leans back offering out his hand.  “My bad.”  While the other continues to work double time on his screen.  

“Who is...Alan?”

Erik jerks his phone back.  “It’s not Alan.”

Kimara drops his hand.  “Than who is it?”

“Work.”  He says curtly, flipping to his Instagram instead.

“Is something wrong with the project you’re working on?  Is Alan the one helping you?”

“Yes and no.”  Erik says.

“Wait.  It is wrong and Alan isn’t helping?”

“It’s not Alan!”  Erik bellows before coughing to cover his outburst.

“Kimara?”  Dr. Tracy says brightly with a smile, waving them back.  Kimara smiles tightly back.

In her office, Dr. Tracy goes over the procedures and preparations for IVF, with all of the medical jargon, followed by some generous simplified explanation.  It all sounded complicated and expensive but Kimara was grateful to hear about everything that could make her miracle possible.

“And Erik, you can be an awesome support by making sure to watch your alcohol intake, exercise, eat healthy, and avoid any environmental pollutants.”

“I was bout to watch that Chernobyl show; is that off the table now?”  Erik asks.

“Erik, you ain’t got time for shit else, quit playing.”  Kimara says with a little bark in her voice.

Erik laughs in a menacing tone.  “Ok.”

Dr. Tracy looks between them nervously.  “...we also provide counseling to couples during the process, as it can be difficult.”

“I wouldn’t mind it, but he wouldn’t be able to make it.”  Kimara says.

“Oh you speak for me now?”

Kimara shrugs.  “If you ain’t there, how else can things go forward?”

Erik sputters in disbelief.  “I won’t be getting like this in front of the damn doctor.  Thanks, doc.  I got the prescription and shit, let’s go.”  Erik keeps talking under his breath as he leaves the office.  Kimara gets up to leave

“Is everything ok between you two?”  Dr. Tracy asks.

Kimara hesitates before saying it’s fine, nothing more than a couples spat.  Erik may have been right about needing to change doctors.  At least a new one wouldn’t know when things were wrong.  This would just look like a normal interaction to fresh eyes.

Back at their house, Erik is reading the instructions for her shots.

“Says this supposed to help in producing eggs for you.  Still gonna take a while though.”

Kimara sits silent watching her shows.

“Remember to mark down when you got your period last.  Supposed to start doing these on your next cycle.”

Silence.

Erik folds the instructions up, standing from the dining room table.  He comes up behind the couch, leaning next to Kimara’s ear.

“Nassau is this weekend, you know?”  SIlence.  “You picked us a real good spot to make our own magic down there.  I think we need it.”

“WE need a lot more than a trip to an island.  Erik, you still ain’t said sorry for a damn thing you said to me today.”

Erik scooches to one side of Kimara to face her.  “What should I apologize for?”

“Embarrassing me?  Not telling me about what’s going on with you and also not asking how things are with me?  Being secretive and mean to me?”  Kimara’s eyes begin to well up.  “You ain’t talked to me without walking off mad in so long, I don’t wanna get used to it Erik!  You didn’t used to do that!”  Erik hooks one leg followed by the other over the back of the couch to sit next to Kimara, holding her hands tight.

“It makes me think about before you left for that damn military out the blue.  You snapped on me back then too.  You tryna go somewhere else again?”

“Hell no!  That life is behind me, I got nothing but you and work to get through now.”

“So I’m a damn task?”  Kimara mopes.

“No!  Look:  I don’t mean to say anything to make you think you boring because you’re not.  You’re the most exciting thing in my life, and I love having you with me.  Every time I’m reminded you’re my wife, I’m thinking how we should be on our damn tenth wedding anniversary instead of third.  But I’m done and thankfully you’re not.”

“Then why are you doing me like this?”

“I-I don’t wanna force shit on you more than you can handle.  I got things happening at my job right now that could make you think the worst, but I promise it’s not.  And you don’t need that pressure right now.”

“Neither do you!”  

“I can handle it.  You focus on your dreams at the studio, and getting ready to host the biggest headed baby your womb will ever know.”

Kimara snorts thinking about this, looking down instinctively.  Erik takes one side of her face in his hand.

“I wanna be more open but I don’t wanna cost you anything too.  So until shit blows over, just know I got this.  Be patient with me, and I promise to be more patient too.”

Kimara pulls Erik to her for a longing kiss, rubbing his face for comfort.  She could feel he cares, but there was still so much gnawing in her mind, she just wasn’t ready to discuss.  But there was one thing.

“One more thing though, before I call it forgiven and get to packing for the trip.”

“You still ain’t packed?”

“I’m asking the questions!  Who is Alan?”

Erk sighs, dipping his head down before looking her in the face to answer.  “Alaina.

“He’s a what?”

“Huh?  No, Alaina.  The name was Alaina not Alan.”

Kimara’s face draws up inquisitively.  “And...she is?”

“My partner for the project I’m working on.  They recruited her from another region and-”

“That’s who you spent the night with instead of dinner with T’Challa and me and his girl?”  Kimara asks.

“I came home!  Don’t make it sound like that, it was a late night.  Ole dude I work for keeps piling shit on me and deadlines-”

Kimara waves her hands in front of him.  “It’s fine.”

“Huh?”

“It’s ok!”  Kimara smiles.  “Seriously, I trust you.  You said works been beating your ass, and I know you wouldn’t be looking all sour if you were getting some ass on the side, so I think I can trust you aren’t cheating.”

Erik stared at her speechless before nodding and agreeing.  

“Plus, we tryna have a baby and I know you wouldn’t mix shit up with her when all that seed is mine, like that would be wasteful.”

Erik growls in his chest, leaning over her, nose to nose.  “Say that again.”

Kimara holds back her smile, rubbing his chest.  “Your seeeed is miiiine.  Don’t waste it.”  Kimara bites his lip at the end of ‘it’, catching him of guard, but not enough to lay her out legs spread quicker than she could blink.

“Wait wait, Erik.  I can’t!”  Kimara says, half giggling.

“Whatchu mean??  You playing with a dog and get afraid when you get the bark?  Quit playing and get them draws off.”  Erik pulls at her bottoms.

“No!  Wait!  I mean it, I’m cramping and shit.  I don’t want nothing near my pussy right now.”

Erik moans out loud in frustration, plopping backwards on the couch, erection pushing at his sweatpants.

Kimara lowkey loved making him wait, period or not.  It’s nice to see he still wants her, and no one else has his attention to fix his rather big problem throbbing in his pants.

“Erik?  You never told me what you think about the tour.”

Erik exhales loudly.  “Good idea, that’s finna kill my hard on real quick.”

“Erik!”  

He sits up, pushing down on himself.  “Mara, I want you to get your hustle goin, I know you been singin since way way way back.”

“Hold up, it ain’t been that long, makin me feel old.”

Erik bops her with his shoulder.  “You know you been my Suga Mama.”

“Two months older Erik.  Dassit!”

Erik looks at the floor, rubbing her knee.  “I just don’t understand why you think it’s best to leave now.  What Imma do without you for two months?”

“Whatever you been doin get home late at night.”  Kimara says flatly.

“The project is almost finished, do I don’t know where that attitude came from.”  

Kimara sits silent, not up for a fight, especially in her hormonal state.

Erik stares at her, testing her.  He knows she wants to say more, she always does.  “I got two more weeks on this, and it’s done.  My workload is gonna be lighter, more boring, and I promise my time will be yours, but now you wanna leave, so.”

“But you understand why right?  It doesn’t sound like you do.  I don’t wanna leave you alone or stop trying, but...this is my dream!”

“Having a family is too right?  That’s why all our time and money been revolving around everything related to that for almost a whole damn year.  It’s fucking flaky.”  Erik shoots back.

“Erik, you got to do what you wanted, right?  This ain’t new with you!  When you want something, you go for it, fuck anybody that gives a shit, it’s yours.  I’m tired of being in the shadow of your shit, cleaning things up so you can have your peace.  This is mine.”

“The fuck is you talkin about??  Is your PMS going retrograde or some shit?”  Erik speaks over her in an agitated tone.  Nothing Kimara said made sense anymore to him.

Kimara gets up, waving him off.  “Eat my ass Erik,  I said what I fucking had to say and I mean that shit.”

Masterlist

Ragtag

@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku@dameshaemonique  @fonville-designs@destinio1@bakarisange l@wakanda-inspired @klaine15689 @savageiz @nickidub718 @yoyolovesbucky @alexundefined @forbeautyandlife​ @bakarisangel

[boned-spy]

TF2 Secret Santa 2019!

Merry Christmas/Smissmas @trashiny-draws​!!! I was your Secret Santa this year! I heard you really love Scout and specifically fanfics of Scout so I did my best to make sure you got exactly that this holiday!

You offered so many great prompts to pick from so I decided to mash some together for you! I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful day of celebration!

Also, your Secret Santa was super enjoyable for me to write so don’t feel bad for wanting so much Scout content! You deserve it, man! Also, I apologize if my writing is bad. It’s been years since I last wrote these characters.

Prompts I mashed together: “Takes place right after End of the Line”, “Scout is a Dumbass™ and needs help while stuck in the snow”, “Scout completely forgot about Sniper- BIG UH OH TIME”, “Team bonding and being a loving murder-family”, “Dad!Spy”(Strongly hinted)

_ -_-_-_-_-_

“Yo, hardhat! You drifting off on me? I didn’t even get to the best part yet!” Scout tittered, still sitting on the edge of his seat, wide-awake.

“Boy, you’ve been goin’ on about yourself for hours; from how ya woke up to what you ate for lunch. We’ve had a pretty long day ourselves and wanna get some shut eye before we start cleaning up all the debris outside tomorrow.” Engineer sluggishly bit back, cranky from exhaustion but unable to put any real heat into it. His eyes were clearly burning as he pulled his goggles off his face to rest along his neck, pinching the bridge of his nose to dispel the ache bundled there. With a sigh, he tried a little more gently as he met the runner’s gaze again, “You reckon you can wrap your story up soon, son?”

Scout took a quick glance around the dining hall and only then just noticed how worn out everyone looked. Medic, Spy, and Heavy looked bored. Tired bored. Demo and Soldier had settled down with their hands holding their heads, stubbornly trying to beat the sleep threatening to take over them any minute. And then there was Pyro. Scout couldn’t tell if Pyro was sleeping or still awake since they had been resting their head on the table ever since everyone sat down to eat a few hours ago.

If he wasn’t careful, Scout was on the verge of completely losing the group’s attention. And Scout could NOT have that.

“Psh, fine! I’ll get to the juicy bits then. Now where was I…? Oh!” Scout suddenly leaned forward conspiratorially as he began talking with his hands, hoping to get everyone in the room more invested in his story by doing so. “So there I was, freezing my ass off in the lookout. It must have been, like, negative 400 degrees. Probably. I couldn’t feel my toes, my fingers, or my gorgeous face! But did that stop me from my incredibly important duty? Hell no! I patrolled the crap out of that crappy shack like my life depended on it! And it totally did! Cause, ya see, right after circling the perimeter or whatever for like, the two hundredth time, my incredible Scout-hearing picked up the screeching of that train before it even passed by! You know, the one that almost killed us and all those poor, defenseless cat orphans?”

The room deadpanned at the expectant pause.

“Anyways, that’s when I turned to Snipes like the badass I was and told him to get his van started for us to chase it down. The guy was basically lost without me! ‘Was super busy peeing in jars and cleaning his rifle or whatever--“

“And where exactly is Sniper to back up these claims? I’m fairly certain he would have already poked a hole or two in this unbelievably long-winded and far-fetched tale of yours.” Spy cut in dryly, his stony expression largely unchanged since first sitting down earlier that evening.

The whole room stilled at the question, as it was a very good question.

For the first time in hours, the room stirred as seven sets of eyes (and Demo’s single eye) sleepily searched around the room for the Australian. After a moment, however, brows soon furrowed and heads turned at greater angles as they inspected the hall more attentively. Typically it wasn’t odd for the marksman to be missing, as everyone knew how much he enjoyed his privacy, but the team was well aware they hadn’t seen Sniper since the incident that day. Or with Scout afterwards, for that matter.

At the quiet but unified revelation, all eyes leveled suddenly on the Bostonian who was now sitting with his back ramrod straight at the scrutinizing stares, never mind the dawning horror that manifested quite clearly on his face.

“Scout? Where is Sniper?” Medic repeated the question cautiously, slowly. The air felt uncomfortably stiff as mere seconds of silence threatened to deafen them all.

The last Scout had seen of Sniper was when his van crashed into that rundown building hanging off the edge of the cliff after he jumped onto the train to try and stop it. He hadn’t seen if Sniper’s van stopped dead in the building or if it ran clean off the edge. And if it did happen to be the latter…

“Oh, my God.” Scout stood abruptly, banging his knees off the table with a yelp. “Aow! Oh, my God! Oh, sh- I gotta go! I GOTTA GO!”

The runner was already out the door and sprinting for the RED Bread truck by the time someone managed to shout after him to wait and explain himself. Scout had barely registered who it was and didn’t care to as he reached the garage and practically leaped into the driver’s seat to fumble with the keys already sitting in the ignition. He started the vehicle as quickly as he got inside of it, slamming the stick into reverse before peeling out of the base with a loud scream of wheels.

“Oh crap, oh my crap. Snipes, man, you better be super alive out there.” Scout muttered in a panic to himself, foot pressing harder on the accelerator as an intrusive thought interrupted his focus regarding how long the hopefully still-alive Australian had been missing for out in the extreme cold. The runner dared to sneak a peek at the digital clock resting above the vehicle’s transmitter and paled.

Seven hours. If Sniper was alive, he’s been sitting in the cold for seven freakin’ hours.

“Oh, God, this guy’s freakin’ dead! If he wasn’t dead before, he’s super dead now! He complained about the cold the whole freakin’ time and now he’s a Snipe-cicle. The poor bastard barely had a chance!” Scout ranted and raved out his nervous energy, still unfalteringly speeding towards the lookout up the mountain despite the words coming out of his mouth. “I should have offered him my gum, man. Chewing keeps you warm like talking keeps you warm. Now he’s gum-less and frozen to death. Way to go, Scout, you killed a guy by not giving him some damn gum!”

The video transmitter suddenly started blaring from the dashboard, startling Scout enough to veer the van off the side of the road with a terrified scream before hurriedly readjusting right back onto it, foot never letting off the pedal the whole incident. Hardly able to catch his breath from the scare, Scout blinked down at the ringing device before punching the button to ignore it. Whoever it was could wait. It was taking all his concentration to not crash and a conversation was the last thing he needed right now.

The dangerous drive up the mountain towards the wreck site took less than thirty minutes thanks to Scout’s reckless regard for his own safety, the bread van’s engine practically screaming for mercy by the time he wrenched the vehicle to the side of the snow-covered railroad tracks before hopping out.

It was a thousand times colder than it had been earlier in the day, nightfall dropping already cold temperatures to an insanely low degree. Sure, Scout had been spouting about Sniper’s death the whole drive there, but it was only then he realized how very probable it actually was.

The revelation had the runner feeling sick to his stomach, but he still pressed on and attempted to ignore his own hang-ups for his teammate’s sake. Flicking on the flashlight he had hurriedly stowed in his jacket pocket before launching himself from the truck, Scout approached the now dilapidated building with a sizable van-shaped hole. Light snowfall calmly blanketed the ground as he trekked, so thick that the runner had to lift his knees higher from the ground to avoid dragging them through the frozen terrain. Even the air felt harder to breathe from how cold it was.

“Snipes?” Scout called out with uncertainty, shining his light around and wincing at every broken board and tire tread mark he spotted, “You, uh, huddled in a corner around here or frozen to death or…?”

Scout finally reached the end of the destruction at the other side of the building, his flashlight illuminating a hole complimenting the one he entered just moments ago. His heart dropped into his stomach, sure that Sniper really had driven off the mountain and to his death, until his light reflected off a cracked side-door mirror that blinded him.

“Ugh!” Scout squinted with an annoyed grunt, perking up immediately when he realized exactly what he was just blinded by. As fast as he ran on the battlefield, he mindlessly sprinted for the driver’s side with a huge grin of relief, feeling silly he ever doubted Sniper’s survival to begin with. “Yes! Oh, thank God! Sniper, man, I thought you were—“

The runner stopped himself short as he shined his flashlight into the van, the door already kicked open and stuck, frozen solid. Small icicles formed along the roof of the interior, a thin coat of frost encompassing the entirety of the dash, and Sniper…

Sniper was curled in his seat, feet pressed flat against the window, arms braced against the back of where he sat, skin pale and violently shivering. Scout took a step forward instinctively to try and offer help only to squeak in surprise as he caught himself before walking completely off the edge of a cliff. A cliff, he finally registered, that the whole van had been teetering on for at least seven hours now.

“Oh sweet Jesus.” Scout grimaced, placing both hands on top of his head as he took in the puzzle he had to now solve, by himself, in zero degree weather.

He could totally do this.

“Okay. So, time to use that big brain of mine...” Scout muttered partly to himself as Sniper continued staring at him, too ridden with frostbite to speak or move. The youngest had no doubt that if the marksman had control or feeling in his facial muscles, he’d be glaring daggers at him right now.

The van seemed completely frozen, tires included, so Scout was pretty sure it could take a nudge or two without nose-diving off the mountain. Still, Sniper was frozen to the van too, so the Bostonian would need to do more than nudge to get him out.

Okay.

Scout clapped his hands together with determination, his resolution so plain on his face, Sniper’s brow just barely managed to knot in deep concern.

“You gotta work with me here, brotha. Just relax and let the expert get to work.”

Sniper’s eyes widened in alarm as Scout strode closer and leaned his body out over the edge to reach for the huntsman, fingers outstretched with effort before clamping down like vices into the frosty, stiff sleeve of Sniper’s shirt. His weight made the van groan, the vehicle budging by millimeters as Scout placed more of his weight into the front of it in order to get a better grip.

“S-s-s-st—S-top!” Sniper chattered desperately through gritted teeth, seeing more than feeling his van lurching ever so slowly forward towards the void below as Scout strained to gather more of his clothing into his hands.

“I got you, man! Just…! Almost!” Scout grunted with the effort, white clouds from his panting filling the air around them as he finally managed to gather Sniper’s jacket into his other hand. “Gotcha!”

Just as Scout poised himself to jerk Sniper out of the icy prison that was his seat with all his might, Sniper’s van tottered violently forward, dragging Scout with it as he lost his footing from the edge.

Scout screamed from the top of his lungs as he felt himself get pulled off his feet, fingers clenching for dear life onto the still-stuck Sniper in the van as he dangled in mid-air helplessly.

Wait. Dangled? Shouldn’t Scout be at the bottom of the mountain by now, body horribly twisted in metal and covered in broken jars of jarate?

“Well, that was idiotic.” A nasally voice chided from where Scout had been standing just seconds before.

Unable to swivel his head around to see who it was, Scout squawked as he felt the entire van tilt backwards and somehow reverse back onto solid ground, his body half-buried by snow as it was dragged away from certain death like a lifeless doll.

“Danke shoen, Heavy.”

“Mm.”

With a groan, Scout pulled his head from the unforgivingly cold fluff his face had been buried in and blearily blinked up at his mysterious saviors.

“Guys?”

“Guys?” Spy mocked, replicating the runner’s voice perfectly as he glared down in disapproval at Scout shakily rising to his knees, moodily tossing his spent cigarette into the blackness below. “The next time you decide to run off and ignore our calls, I may conveniently forget I placed a tracker on you and leave you to whatever fate your stupidity leads you to.”

“Tracker?!” Scout started patting himself down frantically.

“You will not find it.” Spy informed casually, shaking his head before turning his attention to Medic and Heavy, who had already dragged Sniper out from his van and were carrying him into Engineer’s truck to get him warmed up.

“What in Sam Hill were you thinking, boy?” Engineer came over to bend down and pick Scout back up on his feet, brushing the snow off his shoulders a little too roughly as he scolded him. “Running away without telling a soul where you were going or why, just to end up out here and nearly killing yourself and string bean over there. Did you knock your head earlier today or what?”

“I get it! Jeez!” Scout snapped back defensively, arms flung up in exasperated defeat. “But Sniper’s been sittin’ out here for hours! I had to do something!”

“And you could have done that something more effectively if you simply explained to us what had happened.” Spy bit back, his agitation and concern simmering under a cool, stern façade.

“Alright, that’s enough bickerin’ now. I’m too damn tired to put in the effort and it’s too damn late to be doin’ it.” Engineer wiped a hand over his face before slapping it onto Scout’s shoulder to give a firm squeeze. “We worried about ya, is all. We thought we lost Sniper and you and, well… We already dealt with a lot today, and you runnin’ off didn’t help much.”

Spy refused to meet Scout’s eyes as he nonchalantly pulled out another cigarette, avoiding Engineer’s gaze as well when the laborer glanced over pointedly at him as he spoke. Scout shot the Texan a confused look before Engineer shook his head with a sigh.

“Just don’t do it again.” Engineer patted Scout roughly on the back before moving away to check on Sniper, who was still sitting in his truck and trying to recover. The windows of the pickup glowed red from Medic’s medigun, doing his best to help the Australian along in healing his frostbite. He’d be in perfect health and ready to head back to the base in no time, Scout knew. And thinking back on it all, considering how easy saving Sniper was when everyone was involved, maybe it would have made more sense to bring the gang out with him.

Maybe Scout had kind of overreacted and made the whole rescue mission way harder than it needed to be. Especially on Sniper.

Feeling like a moron now despite genuinely trying to do the right thing, Scout stood and watched with his arms crossed as the other mercenaries milled about around him, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself after rolling around in the snow.

“You’ve got guts, son!” Soldier’s voice boomed suddenly from behind him, causing Scout to yelp when a large, calloused hand slapped his back a little too hard. “Your bravery deserves a medal of honor! No man left behind! That’s what I like to see in this unit! Stop by my quarters later and we’ll celebrate your efforts the proper American way by training! With me! Hehehehe!”

Scout coughed and tried for a convincing smile at the offer, a small part of him appreciating the little bit of praise he was getting that night. He waved half-heartedly after the patriotic man with an uneasy chuckle as he passed him by with a massive grin on his face. “Oh, sure, yeah. I’ll have to try and remember when we get back to, uh, totally do that.”

“Ach, donnae worry, lad. It’s the wee hours of morning. ‘Ain’t a chance he’ll remember on the car ride home. He’ll be bloody asleep by the time we get back.” Demoman nudged Scout’s arm from behind as they watched Soldier march back to the truck to also check on Sniper. The two stayed standing side-by-side and observed for a few moments as the majority of the team hovered around the marksman just to make sure he was okay. Scout found himself smirking a little to himself at the rare sight.

“Like a fooked up family, we are. Eh?” Demo chuckled, pulling Scout into a quick, friendly side-armed hug. The Bostonian allowed it, but made a bit of a face at the affectionate contact, still feeling out of sorts from the whole incident he couldn’t help feeling was partly his fault. The demolitions expert picked up on it easily, however, and released him with a sigh. “Don’t let this eat’ya up, laddie. Just like I said, right? We’re one bloody mess of a family. If yer gonnae do something stupid, ya might as well include us.”

Scout snorted genuinely at that, shrugging but with a small smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah. I got enough brothers at home. I don’t need a bunch of dads to match.” He replied jokingly to deflect the rather sappy sentiment.

“A family’s what’cha make of it.” Demo shot back easily enough, earning him a look of surprise from Scout at the sincere wisdom from out of nowhere as the explosives expert idly searched his own person for his flask. He muttered to himself in dismay when he turned up with nothing, eyeing Sniper’s van before giving a groan of resignation. “Ach, mother o’ mercy. Must’ave left the bloody thing back home. Guess I’ll be in the van taking a bleedin’ nap until we get back then.” Demo gave a two-finger salute as he turned to leave. “Nighty night, lad.”

“Yeah, night.” Scout called after his shoulder.

The Bostonian turned back towards the loose crowd still hanging around the truck and allowed himself a warm, heartfelt smile.

Man.

Scout really had to pee now.

_ -_-_-_-_-_

[themockingcrows]

Tapping With Blue Eyes Ch. 6: Tainted

This chapter is SFW This chapter is available on my AO3

Werewolves, despite their general rarity, are not to be trifled with.

     “You going to tell him?” Dirk asked with an amused smirk. “Or do I just get to see you every day.”

     “Depends. How long are you planning on hanging around botherin’ me?”

     “I’m not bothering you. I’m coming in when you’re not even busy and having a nice conversation instead of fighting and causing a scene,” Dirk said, gesturing to the nearly empty shop and to his cup. “And I’m a paying customer no less. Common courtesy says that some casual conversation is warranted.”

     Dave made a face at him, and went back to sweeping.

     “I should tell him about you creeping around here.”

     “He’d have a fit, and Jake would be amused.”

     “...What, does he not know you come here?”

     “Jake’s.. How do I put this,” mused Dirk, swirling the contents of his cup before taking a sip. “He’s enthusiastic, but he doesn’t plot things like this. It’s too public. Swatting at you here wouldn’t do much good.”

     “Does he know or not.”

     “He knew I came here before,” Dirk admitted. “But he doesn’t know I’m still coming by to say hello like today.”

     “Right. Say hello,” Dave muttered sourly. 

     “That’s what I’m doing, yes. It’s not often I get to speak with other taps. Especially ones that are just normal humans.. I keep expecting you to be something else.”

     Dave glance dup from his sweeping with a frown. “Why’s that? Do I give off a non-human vibe or something?”

     “More like most people would assume James’ son would wind up with a powerful tap. He’s quite special in his own right, if he taps into his potential he’d be quite a threat. ..Except for you.”

     “What do you mean except for me?” Dave asked, frowning deeper. “I’m not a liability.”

     “You’re not. You’re a limiter AND a liability,” Dirk said, sipping his drink again. “I’ll explain more another time, Jake’s going to get antsy if I’m out of range too long. Here’s my number, for if you’re curious and want to know more,” he added, taking the receipt from the coffee out and jotting a phone number down on it. “I can help you learn more about why you’re holding him back.”

     Dave took the number by crumpling it up into a ball with his fist.

     “Right. Yeah. Sure. How considerate of you,” he said, stuffing it into his apron without a second thought.

     “Hey now, I didn’t say it’d not be worth your time. There’s ways you can help him more,” Dirk said with a smirk, this time showing the pointed tips of his teeth. He looked just as angular as before, but somehow far more wild like that. It was somewhat unnerving to look at, the same instinctive fear that John’s fangs sometimes brought out in him still. The inhuman edge of it all.

     Stuffing the number deeper into his work apron, Dave sighed a breath out when Dirk finally left, rubbing the bridge of his nose and wishing he had his shades on during work hours. What a fucking mess.. Hopefully that douchebag wouldn’t be coming back every day or something stupid like that. He finished his shift up before texting John for his pickup, waiting in the back room till he got a return text to come outside. So had become their habit for security’s sake. There was a snack waiting for him, along with a bottle of apple juice, and John’s worried eyes looking him over from head to toe. He was still weak, especially with work bearing down on top of everything, but nowhere near as gray faced as he’d been in the last few days and was only getting better.

     “Have a good shift?”

     “Eh. It was a shift,” Dave said as he buckled in and cracked open the juice for a few thirsty gulps. Phew, that sure hit the spot. “Same old same old.”

     “No interesting characters come through? Must’ve been a slow day if there wasn’t at least one old person complaining that a plain cup of coffee wasn’t listed anywhere despite it being on the list,” John snickered, pulling out of the space he’d parked in, checking behind him by bracing an arm on Dave’s seat and twisting around for certainty before pulling forwards to the street. 

     The number felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket already, burning a hole through the back of Dave’s head, but he held his tongue. This wouldn’t end well.. But then again, neither would keeping secrets at a time like this. He fiddled with the window, the radio, his seat, trying to psyche himself up.

     “What’s wrong? You’re squirming like you’ve got the worst wedgie of your life,” John snorted.

     “Uh. ...Dirk. Came into the store earlier,” Dave said.

     The car screeched to a halt so quickly that Dave’s body pressed hard into the seatbelt, hard enough he’d be surprised if there wasn’t an indention in his skin of some kind even through his work clothes. John frowned and turned on him, concerned, trying to check him over.

     “Fuck, really? Jesus. Why didn’t you mention it first thing?” he asked. “He didn’t try anything, right? Jesus, if he knows where you work that’s not safe, I don’t know what to do if Ja-”

     “It’s fine. He didn’t try anything, just talked and left. Apparently Jake doesn’t know he came there, if he’s to be believed,” Dave said, sitting patiently through the literal pat down before reaching up to grasp John’s hand so he could nuzzle it. “Chill. It’s alright.”

     “It’s not alright,” John insisted, finally putting his hands back on the wheel and leaving for the main road back to Dave’s apartment, looking twice as suspiciously at passerby now that he was on high alert.

     “Okay, okay, it’s not alright. But it’s not as bad as your brain’s makin’ you think, I can guarantee that,” Dave said, watching out the window. The number. The phone number. He had to mention the phone num-

     “What did he say?”

     “...That I was holdin’ you back.”

     John looked over and lifted a brow before snorting and shaking his head. “Holding me back? As if, hah. If anything, I’m going twice as hard in everything because of you being around. Learning wards and all that.. I didn’t really have a reason to worry before.”

     “Maybe because you’re worryin’. Because I’m not able to offer much in return.”

     “If you wanna be crass, you offer tasty as hell blood in return. But you offer plenty of things in return, Dave. Don’t let him get in your head, things are fine how they are between us,” John insisted.

     “You sure I’m not like. Some weak-ass that’s just a statistic waitin’ to happen?” Dave asked, frowning. “I mean, dude’s a werewolf and that asshole feeds off him, doesn’t that give him a boost?”

     “Well.. yes. But I don’t care. Who wants to drink dog blood anyway, yuck. And you’re not a weak ass! I already know what happened when we were at Dad’s and he tested you.”

     Dave frowned at him, not quite believing, but more than happy to let things sink down and dissolve naturally rather than be propped up for another round of No, You. He sighed out through his nose and watched the scenery till they stopped at his apartment, walking into the building with clasped hands that only dropped when it came time to unlock the door.

     John strode past to go check everything out, ensuring the wards were in place still. Dave went to the bathroom and then went to go change, all the while thinking about the number and how he’d manage to talk to Dirk while under guard. Try as he might, the curiosity was really eating at him.

     What if it was true? No matter what John said, he was inexperienced in these matters, he was a hindrance no matter what he wanted to think. No amount of movie knowledge was going to help against the real deal in the heat of the moment, and even the things he’d been taught weren’t going to save him in a two on one fight. He raked his hair out of his face as he dropped his apron and shirt, pulling on a comfortable tee and some baggy sweatpants to slouch around in, wanting to get off of his feet after the long shift.

     Before he could leave the room John came in behind him and laced his fingers together over Dave’s stomach, cuddling up close to his back as he fondly nipped the side of his neck.

     “Hey. Really though, are you okay?”

     “Yeah, yeah I’m just tired man.”

     Tired and fibbing. Tired and lying. Tired and hiding potentially important information. The reaction in the car had been strong enough that the curiosity only got more intense. He knew he was going to poke the hornets nest, all for the sake of some outside information and perspective in this. Dirk, enemy or not, seemed to be the calmest person in this entire bullshit situation. Maybe vampires were just naturally dramatic and this was all more of a fucking game than it felt like.

     ...Or maybe it was more serious, and Dirk just didn’t have any allegiance to Jake beyond being his tap.

     Dave felt the pressure behind his knees before registering he was being lifted up, carried into the living room like a princess and being sat down on the sofa. “Here,” John said. “Go ahead and chill out, I’ll make something for you. Want spicy?”

     “Mm. Not in a spicy mood,” he admitted. “You’re gonna spoil me rotten at this rate though.. Wanting another meal?”

     “Not so soon, duh. Gotta build back up before even thinking of it,” John chuckled. 

     Dinner was stir fry with shrimp and plenty of veggies, heavy on the ginger and soy sauce. Movies carried Dave and John through the evening, till finally there was nothing left but bed. ..mostly. Dave turned his volume down on his phone while John was in the bathroom, added the number from his apron to his new message screen, and sent the first text before he could stop himself at a cool 11pm.

              - hey

     The first reply came when John came back and climbed into bed, left unlooked at for a while in favor of scrolling instagram for a time. They showed each other things back and forth on their screens, different memes or interesting posts, things on tumblr being reblogged one way or the other in a conga line to make sure their friends saw them. Comfortable night routines that ended with John snoring with his head against Dave’s chest, his long body curled up on his side to keep his feet from dangling over the far bottom, safely out of grasp of whatever demons decided to take up residence rent free under his bed this week Dave noted.

     Hey. After finding out vampires were real, as well as werewolves, the boogeyman and shit hiding under his bed would just be another square on the bingo sheet his life had recently become. Can you blame a guy for believing?

     The text was still waiting for him when Dave slid the screen over quietly to peek.

             - Hey. Finally get curious?

             - i don’t know you tell me

             - Are you wanting information, or to be antagonized?

             - oh wow i get a choice

             - The gist of it will be the same either way: you’re a liability. If you were anything but human, you’d be more useful than you are to your fangy boytoy.

     Dave didn’t know what he expected. The bluntness was something he could appreciate at least, instead of being babied or sweet talked. It was quick, to the point, and fairly brutal.

             - ive heard as much already 

             - you got any new info for me or can i delete your number now

             - I’ve got new information in the form of an offer, if that piques your interest.

             - offer

             - like what

             - Like the offer to help you be something more than human.

             - You seem like a nice guy, Dave. I’ve got nothing against you. This beef is Jake and John’s business, not mine particularly. 

             - All it’d take is a good infection bite, and you’d be able to be like me. Consider how useful that’d be for your partner in the scheme of things.

             - Wouldn’t you like him to be as prepared as possible, stand as good a chance as he can in this pissing contest?

     Dave frowned at his phone and glanced briefly towards John’s sleeping face before typing quickly.

             - bullshit i already know thats a lie

             - im on the up and up man

             - a bite from you would just make me a feral piece of shit not whatever you are

             - Ah, damn. Should have acted sooner than I did.

             - werent you literally just saying you had nothing against me and then you pull this shit???

             - Having you trust me would have made a lot of things easier. Namely it could have also gone a long way in making sure Jake kept you alive instead of disposing of you when the time came to get John’s food source away from him.

              - bad dog go to the yard and think about what you did

     Dave muttered to himself as he blocked Dirk’s number, hurriedly switching back over to Instagram when he felt John shifting against his shoulder. Sleepily, he cracked his blue eyes open and looked Dave over a few times, squinting against the brightness from the screen.

     “Mmn… Why’re you still up…?”

     “It hasn’t been that long since you went to sleep,” Dave said, kissing John’s forehead automatically before even thinking the action through. Felt natural, felt right, fuck it. “Go back to sleep, I’ll pass out when I can.”

     That was apt. There was a lot to digest now. He’d need to put his foot down on any future visits from Dirk, maybe alert his manager that the new regular customer was actually stalking him, avoid his presence. It’s not like he knew his entire schedule, right? He just… kept turning up on the days he was working, at the right times, like clockwork. Somehow.

     Fuck, maybe this was bad. Maybe he should tell John after all.

     Yet the idea of waking him up now seemed entirely out of the question, not now that he was cuddling up again and closing his eyes, warm and pliant and relaxed. This was the kind of bomb someone dropped when they were dealing with a fully conscious person, not late night “Oh, by the way” conversation.

     Sighing, Dave scrolled a while longer before setting his phone aside and rubbing the bridge of his nose, fending off a late night headache. Too much thinking… One more glance to John, already unconscious again and drooling on his shoulder, and he finally settled down to sleep as well.

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

      When he woke up the next morning it was to John leaving his entire arm tingling like the static on a television set and an ache in his head from thinking too long into the night. Even his dreams had been stressful, and looking at a bright screen so late at night in the dark certainly hadn’t helped things settle down at all in his mind. Really, he just wanted to forget it ever happened, chalk it up as a shit experience, and deal with it later.

     First, he needed to rescue his arm.

     “John. John. John. Earth to sack of potatoes currently cuttin’ off all the blood to my fingers to the point I can’t flip you off properly, can you maybe roll your fangy ass over and gimme some breathin’ room.”

     Nothing but soft snoring.

     Grunting, Dave struggled and finally yanked his arm out from underneath John’s weight, and sat up to rub his arm from fingertip to shoulder till the stinging went away and the blood flow returned to normal. He unplugged his phone from the charger and took it with him to the bathroom, scrolling out of habit and checking his emails, continuing to do so once he’d finished and washed up. Breakfast would be his treat today, and that meant something simple but tasty. He got out eggs and had just started to fry them and some breakfast hash up when John finally made his way out of the bedroom with bleary eyes behind his glasses. The vampire sniffed, stretched, and went to take a seat at the table before splaying out over the top like a sunning seal.

     “Good mornin’ to you too,” Dave said.

     “Mmmmorning,” John yawned. “Man I slept deep last night… did you finally get to bed at a good time?”

     “Eh. Tried but it was kinda hit or miss,” he said, flipping the eggs over so the tops would cook just a little bit. Sealed and perfectly over medium, nary a runny white to be seen, Dave slid the first two eggs and some of the breakfast hash onto a plate for John with some toast. He cracked two more eggs onto the skillet before delivering the dish, rubbing John’s upper back idly. “Woke up to you deadarmin’ me though. That was fun.”

     “Ah, fuck, my bad. Thanks,” John said, realizing silverware was needed. He stood up to go get two sets, leaving one opposite of where he sat for when Dave’s food was done. “So what’s the plan for the day? You’ve got work?”

     “A few hours, yeah, but not a long shift. And it’s not till later,” Dave said.

     Things were calm, peaceful. John was awake and calm. Maybe he could just-

     “...So. Dirk came to where I was workin’.”

     John choked on a piece of hash before swallowing and dropping his fork on the plate, planting his hands on the tabletop as if he were about to stand up and… what. Fight? “What? When? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

     “A few times,” Dave said, pointedly ignoring the incredulous look John was flashing his direction in favor of trying to distinguish every last flavor in the hash. Hm. Bit too salty but it worked fine with the eggs. “Nothin’ happened though.”

     “STILL! Why didn’t you let me know, this is dangerous shit Dave! Did he say anything? Do anything weird?” John fret, mind racing a mile a minute, already trying to come up with what the fuck to do next if any number of things had happened. Dave LOOKED okay but-

     “He gave me his phone number,” Dave said.

     “...What?”

     “He gave me his phone number, and we talked briefly. Don’t worry. It was bullshit. He was tryin’ to tell me I was holdin’ you back, offerin’ to “help” me. It was a crock of shit and he dropped the act when I pointed out I knew better already.”

     John relaxed a bit, but still seemed on edge as he lowered his hands back to his lap, trying not to sulk. Something that big and he hadn’t been told about it? What else was there that wasn’t being mentioned?

     “Before you ask: I already blocked him. There wasn’t anything to gain, so… cut’em loose.”

     “Nothing to gain?” John asked, confused.

     “The way he talked before, he was actin’ like nothin’ was personal. That he didn’t have any beef with me, that this was between you and Jake mostly,” Dave said, crunching toast after mopping up more egg yolk. “I thought it might be interestin’ if he was kind of doin’ his own thing aside from Jake and your issue.”

     “I’ve got no idea if that’s true or not,” John admitted. “It might be for all I know, I don’t know how close they keep their business to their relationship or how he acts as his tap aside from being one. But it’s not just a Jake and Me thing: you’re at risk too now, remember?”

     “How could I forget. When’s the asshole gonna leave town already.”

     “When he gets bored of antagonizing us and being a dick,” John grumbled, slowly going back to eating.

     “Maybe Christmas’ll come early. I’m gonna go take a shower so I can be a lazy piece of shit around the living room without smellin’ myself till work,” Dave said as he finished up his meal and rose to deposit the plate into the sink. 

     “You mind if I get your laptop out and play a game?”

     “Knock yourself out, you know the password,” he said, gesturing a wave of his hand without looking back as he left the room to get a change of clothes before closing the bathroom door.

     The pressure in here felt different somehow, though Dave was pretty sure he was just going crazy at this point. He’d noticed it briefly earlier, and every time he’d come into the bathroom since getting back home, how different it felt… but there was surely nothing to it. John had warded everything thoroughly, right? Maybe this was just a side effect of it being in a smaller space. Still, he looked to the window as if it would betray him before cracking it open to let the eventual steam out and turning to pull his shirt off.

     The window opened wider, and Dave froze in place, arms up over his head tangled in his shirt, face covered. He heard a step, then a second one as the window creaked under someone’s weight and then eased.

     “Dave?” John called. “Is everything okay?”

     Of course he felt it too. He’d have to be crazy to not feel the presence that now filled the bathroom. Dave had already put two and two together: John had been warding in here when he’d gotten interrupted to go open the window in the bedroom. The job hadn’t been finished. He’d interrupted and bitched and now look at what the fuck had happened.

     “You know, for a human you’ve got a pretty nice figure,” Dirk murmured from behind him. “Might want to tell him everything’s okay or things’ll get messy in here.”

     “Yeah,” Dave called. “Yeah, it’s. Yeah.”

     “Points off, not convincing,” Dirk hissed softly, but John didn’t call again so perhaps things were fine after all now.

     “What do you want,” Dave said, slowly lowering his arms but not turning around, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise up as he slowly looked to the side without moving his head, trying to catch a glimpse in the mirror of what was happening. He could just barely make out Dirk’s face, the dark shades he wore, the angular nose, the front of his lips. When he smirked, he could see hints of sharp teeth.

     “To give you a fair chance to get out of this,” Dirk said. “Jake’s outside right now waiting for me to take care of business… but I don’t like taking advantage of people in the bathroom of all places.”

     “Kind of you. What’s the catch,” Dave muttered.

     “You only get a head start. If I catch you… well. Let’s just say our conversation from last night won’t matter much anymore.”

     “And if you don’t catch me with your freakish speed shit?”

     “Then this round is a draw and I’ll accept my losses.”

     “And John?”

     “You assume I believe he’d let me chase you for fun with no rebuff? Please. I know what I’m doing, Dave.”

     “...How long do I have.”

     “You had thirty seconds, you’re down to about twenty five now.”

     Cussing under his breath, Dave jerked out of his frozen state and reached for the bathroom door, launching out and past a startled looking John.

     “Dave! I was jus- Where are you going!” he called out, turning to watch him run to the livingroom and fling open the door, rushing out to the hall. A shape rushed past him then, a blur to most watching, but to John he could see clearly enough to make out the stupid shades and blonde hair of someone who had no right being in this apartment. Snarling, he took off after him. “DIRK.”

     The elevator door closed before Dave could reach it, and he didn’t trust waiting for any length of time. Instead he grasped the railing and started to rush downstairs that way, jumping the last two steps with bare feet before turning the U bend and continuing to repeat the pattern floor by floor. He could hear John’s bellow from above, and could hear something uncomfortably close behind him. Daring to look up as he ran, Dave saw what could only be the blurry form of Dirk rushing down after him, two flights up.

     John dove for Dirk when he rounded a corner, dropping several stairs at once to tackle him with his full weight against the landing wall, succeeding in latching on around his neck and shoulder hard enough to gain purchase on before starting to punch towards his face with everything he had. The impact had been jarring enough that neither of them had their full wind, but something Dirk had that John didn’t was a muzzle full of sharp teeth as he started to shift in the other’s arms. His shirt fell away as his chest expanded and fur grew, arms bulking up, hands gaining claws, feet leaving his sneakers behind as they changed. A pair of ears lifted up into view, sensitive and laid back aggressively. John got a solid punch in before reeling back and releasing his hold, startled, not wanting his hand mauled by the beast who was rapidly bending its bones into a new position with soft pops and creaks.

     Dirk snarled at him and bared his large teeth once before perking an ear up and jerking away from the vampire to look down the stairwell. Several flights down, Dave was looking up, checking for where the enemy was. He could see the color drain from his face as he jumped the barrier and leapt down with lifted arms, catching onto the rung of a nearer floor before hefting himself over. John, unwilling or unable to risk doing the same, was stuck scrambling down the stairs anew in as many flashes as he dared, shouting for Dave to keep running as fast as he could.

     Didn’t need to tell him twice. The blonde was nearing the ground floor on shaking legs and veered for the front exit, not even knowing where he’d go next. Go in circles around the building until John got done zipping downstairs? He knew he could go fast, but that had been on fairly even ground before, not on stairs. Dave knew he himself could go ridiculously fast when pressed, that had to account for something, right? Maybe he had regrets about not joining track in some other life, but this would surely make up for any lingering thoughts. He raced for the front door and threw it open, almost running face first into someone.

     “Fuck, I’m sorry, I jus-”

     “No worries, chap. I take it John’s in there still, hm?”

     Dave could feel his stomach drop when he heard John’s name. The man in front of him looked… well. He looked a great deal like John, actually. Messy black hair and tan skin, broad shoulders and long arms ending in sturdy looking fingers. His eyes were wicked green and he wore an amused expression on his youthful face, one that brought unease to Dave all anew. He took a step back, then another, peering over his shoulder to see what his options were.

     Shit was what they were. Dirk, or the pale beast he assumed Dirk was, was coming towards him with John hot on his heels. It was obvious the vampire hadn’t seen who was in front of Dirk, the beast larger than its human counterpart and hurriedly barreling along, as nobody was slowing down. Thinking fast, Dave turned and ran towards Dirk as fast as he could before dropping to his knees and ducking down when he lunged.

     The wad of werewolf and vampire hit the opening of the door at an angle, Dirk rebounding to hurry along after Dave again on all fours, while John was stuck flat on his ass in front of Jake.

     No. No time. No time, had to get Dave away from the infectious one. Could he fend off two people at the same time? Had to get back into the apartment. No, the apartment wasn’t safe anymore, how had they gotten in!

     “DAVE! DAVE GET THE KEYS! THE KEYS!” he yelled, giving Jake another look before getting up to follo-

     “Ah ah ah, where do you think you’re going cousin! We finally meet up and you don’t even say hello, how rude! I’ll have to get on your father about teaching you some MANNERS,” Jake said, having caught John by the back of the shirt before yanking him back as hard as he could. Choked into obedience, John turned, preparing to fi-

     Preparing to get hit in the nose with enough pressure he was pretty sure he heard a cracking noise. Another hit, this one to the chest, forced him back into the building at an unsteady pace. A third punch, aimed for the side of his face, was finally blocked, giving John enough time to zip back away from Jake with a hiss. He could only pray Dave was getting the keys, that he was safe, that he was faster than Dirk. Going downstairs was one thing, but going up could be exhausting.

     Dave was halfway back to the apartment and his chest and legs felt like they were full of fire, yet he didn’t dare stop. Stopping now felt like a death sentence, especially with Jake around and James’ convincing play acting before. Would getting the keys even help at this point? He knew where they were, hung on the table beside the door where John always dropped them, ready to go and ready to not get lost. It was just a matter of avoiding every single thing downstairs. He heard vicious breathing below him, barely there visible cues of where Dirk was, and Dave pushed himself faster than he’d gone before.

     The door was just ahead.

     Lunging, he grabbed the keys, and slammed the door behind himself, hearing something heavy slam into the wood, nearly buckling it. The ward held, but for how long? How long would it take him to just go to the bathroom window again? Would he leave at all? Would he just be trapped inside, waiting for John to hopefully be able to get back upstairs?

     Hyped up on adrenaline and smelling a nosebleed coming on, Dave stared at the door like he was staring down destiny. The dive had worked before, maybe it could work again. Another battering ram lunge at the door and he dared to peek out the peephole, watching Dirk size up his target for another try.

     Just needed to time it.

     Needed to time it.

     Dave picked a song out of thin air and let it play in the back of his head, a quick tempo and heavy beat to match his thundering heart. 3. 2. 1.

     When Dirk lunged, Dave threw open the door and dove face first for the were’s feet, trading places with him before trying to catch the top of the stairs. He fell, ass over teakettle, till he hit the bottom before getting up and running. He heard scratching and thudding catching up with him, but there was only so much he could do. He had the keys. He had to get to the bottom of the stairs.

     He was so tired.

     He was only human.

     Good and fast as he was, he was still only human.

     With a bark like a demon, Dirk caught up with Dave around a corner, snapping near his shoulder and startling him. A misplaced step of a tired leg, a hard shift in balance, a fall, and Dave rolled down the stairs once more. Less prepared this time, the landing was hard on his side and arms at the bottom of the current staircase, making him grunt as he tried to get up, death grip still on the keys.

     Dirk was on him in an instant, huge hands shoving Dave down and pinning him by the upper arms so he could loom over him. His lips curled back to expose sharp fangs, long and dangerous.

     “It’s nothing personal,” Dirk rumbled. 

     Despite his struggling and kicking, the teeth sinking into the section of his shoulder where it connected to his neck hurt unlike anything Dave had experienced before. It was close to the sensitive space John fed from, a place that Dave had found himself starting to be tender towards even during cuddling, and now it felt like it was being ripped apart. He could smell blood, and down below a few floors he could hear yelling. When Dirk lifted his red tipped teeth away from him, Dave felt cold in the center of his chest, chilled despite the warmth at his neck.

     “You’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

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

      John, waylaid by Jake, was having a hell of a time trying to keep up with him. It was like a boxing match, something he wasn’t prepared for, and when it wasn’t up close punches being thrown, it was bites being exchanged or intimidating circling.

     Jake moved faster. He hit harder. Every time John threw a punch Jake knew how to dodge and return volley or cross punch him, undoing any bit of progress John felt he’d made. They both bore bite marks, tears in the flesh, but John was the one far worse for wear. He could feel it in his face and the swell of his eye, the way his glasses sat skewed on his face, the way his ears rang when he breathed and his nose whistled.

     It all changed when he smelled Dave’s blood, however.

     “DAVE?” he shouted, opening himself up for one more punch to the face.

     It had to be Dave’s blood, he knew it too keenly now. And the only way to smell blood was if he was hurt, or worse-

     “DAVE!” John shouted again, focusing on Jake and squinting, darting back to avoid a hit to the stomach before throwing a right hook with all he had, connecting square into Jake’s face hard enough to send his glasses flying and stagger him a few paces back.

     “Dave, hold on! I’m coming!” he shouted. Fucking daytime, of course most of the neighbors were at work, and the ones who weren’t probably were just waiting for the crazy shit to stop happening outside in the echoing stairwell. As if they had any idea of just how much crazy shit was happening in reality.

     Dirk was already off of Dave by the time he made it to the correct flight, having fled further upstairs to collect his shoes and make his way out the window the way he’d come. The apartment door clunked shut ominously out of range, but John couldn’t think about that, couldn’t remember Jake down below who might be following him at this very moment. All he could focus on was the smell of blood, the ripped shirt, the bruises. The fact he looked terrified, curled up in the corner of the stairwell with his hands around his own neck, just made his blood boil all the more.

     He’d pay for this. They both would, both of them would pay for what they’d done today and John was going to make goddamn sure of it.

     “John,” Dave finally croaked. “...John, he bit me.”

     It took a second to register what Dave said, what he meant, but when it caught up in John’s mind it made his legs go slack and sent him down to his knees.

     “It. ….No. no, no, no he didn’t,” he insisted, “let me see. He didn’t bite you, he couldn’t have, it-”

     “He bit me,” Dave groaned again, slowly lowering his hands to reveal where the blood smell was coming from. It was on his hands, on the edges of his ripped shirt, all stemming from a terrible looking bite wound.

     John’s baser instincts were warring with themselves, half fascinated by the scent and the sight, wanting to sample it, wanting to drink him dry. The other half was enraged that someone had harmed his tap, and wanted to get revenge right that second.

     “Shh…. Shhh it’s gonna be okay,” was all he could think to say. As for what to do… he spotted the keys by Dave’s feet and scooped them up before carefully picking Dave up as well. “We’re going to my Dad’s house.”

     Maybe he’d have some kind of answers, some kind of hope that this wasn’t as bad as it looked. He walked upstairs and opened the apartment, finding it empty. A quick trip to the bathroom and John sat Dave down on the toilet seat, wetting a washcloth and handing it to him while he focused on closing and warding the window thoroughly. He pointedly avoided looking in the mirror till he absolutely had to, and even then it was only to wash up and straighten things as well as he could. They bandaged Dave’s neck and got him in a clean shirt, grabbing a few things in a bag for the trip.

     The tension was gone when they locked up and left the apartment again, Dave on John’s back with one arm holding the bag over John’s front and the other holding on around his neck. Jake was nowhere to be seen, Dirk was gone, everything was peace and quiet again as if their entire life hadn’t just been upended. They made it downstairs safely, ignoring the specks of blood from the fight with Jake at the entryway that he hoped someone would be able to take care of soon, and out to the car before John pulled his phone out and dialed the familiar number of his childhood.

     “Dad?” John said when the warm voice answered. “...We’re coming home.”

[waterparchive]

Toxic Fandom, Public Heartbreak, And The Feedback Loop

Travis Riddle – October 29, 2019

Fandom by Waterparks is one of my favorite albums of the year, regardless of the fact that…I am friends with the band. There was not a single track that immediately stood out as my favorite like Take Her to the Moon and Peach on previous albums--but I think that's because everything on this one is so good, it's impossible to choose one. I Miss Sex/War Crimes/I Felt Younger would probably comprise my top 3, but every song is fantastic. And the album is on the shorter side but you truly don't feel that length, these songs all go through so many different movements--lyrically and musically--that every song is just dense as hell and it feels a lot longer than it is, while still not feeling overwhelming or messy at all. It flows great and hits some really interesting themes.

This write-up was initially sent to Awsten on the album’s release date, and I’ve edited it a little below for clarity/brevity, because I would not shut up about it.

1. Cherry Red - Starting the album off with that bark/yell is so tight. A year and a half ago in that parking lot going to get crawfish together I didn't really "get" this song, but after hearing the album several times it really clicked for me. I love how it acts as kind of a setup to the whole thing, getting the listener into your mindset and introducing one of the main themes of the album. I also like how it continues your color motifs; "blue and yellow let’s get together and be green" has now gone bad and turned to sour green, and it seems like cherry red is replacing yellow (red + yellow = orange hmmmmm). I also love how "You know I died for you" ties into the closing track, "I said I loved you to death so I must be dead."

2. WWHN - A really great choice for the first full song of the album to set the tone for the Fandom theme in contrast with Cherry Red setting up the emotional side of the lyrics. It's also a goddamn jam so it's great at hyping up right at the start hahah. I've probably told you everything about this already but I like what you're saying in this, and how it's something probably every single artist goes through in their career, but no one seems to say in a critical way (that I’m aware of). I'm sure this and other songs will make some fans upset because they're being called out but I like that, and it's some stuff that needs to be said.

3. Dream Boy - Lots of good stuff about fan expectations in this, dressed up in metaphors and really catchy pop to catch people off-guard. Love the phrase "Build-A-Boy, pick your pieces" and "Do you believe in love and is it because of me?" With people's weird way of crafting their whole lives and beliefs and desires on these celebrities that they don't know personally at all yet are so invested in.

4. Easy to Hate - I feel like this is the most straightforward and "simple" song thematically, but man it is so catchy. The sound effect that I'm sure is your voice in the opening before the verse is so damn cool. I like this first real hint of the colors turning to red. This is thematically pretty similar to other demos like ********* and Play and stuff so with how catchy and big this chorus is, it's easy to see why you chose this one to cover that topic. I'm also a sucker for someone doing the chorus in a song but stripped down like you do here. Those harmonies in the final chorus are also soooo good..........

5. High Definition - You're on some Imogen Heap-ass shit here and it's dope. I like this as a single choice since I feel like the emotional side of the album really hinges on this track--it's not a breakup album in the typical sense (aside from like Easy to Hate and Worst), but rather it's about the aftermath of the breakup and the emotional state surrounding that, the doubts and insecurities and vulnerabilities of losing trust in everybody due to one person’s actions, and this song is such a direct and succinct and sad encapsulation of that. Hate how this whole song makes me feel for my friend but it's also really pretty and good.

6. Telephone - This is some real Hellogoodbye-ass shit here with the ending of the chorus hahah. The juxtaposition between this and High Definition is interesting, basically both songs coming to the same conclusion--not committing to a relationship--but in totally opposite ways. With this one basically being "I won't tell you how I'm feeling, I'll just go write lyrics/sing voice memos/tweet." Is this about the damn pretty Target girl you tweeted about once? "Now I'm living on a target" and "all these aisles feel like miles" hmmmmMMM. This wasn't my favorite when I first heard it but it realllllly grew on me and now I love it. The chorus is so good and I love what you're doing with the music/harmonies in the background of it. Also the dumb shit after "I'll follow" always makes me laugh. Then the dichotomy between this/HD is emphasized in the closing Wedding Singer sample which I feel like represents the fandom; you’re going through this huge emotional turmoil, but we’re reaping the benefits by getting great songs out of it.

7. Group Chat - It works as a goofy little interlude but I also like what it says thematically (if I'm not just pulling this out of my ass anyway). On one hand it seems to me like a commentary on the inanity of some fan group chats, how in some of them they all act like they're best friends but really it's just a surface-level friendship. "My name's [whatever] and we're all friends! :D" and then also with the effect on your voice, seems to imply to me how mentally draining everyone in the fandom can sometimes be on you more so than Geoff and Otto.

8. Turbulent - I know some people just gotta have their metaphors and shit in their lyrics but I love how direct this song is. Just plainly stating things makes them feel so much more raw and real. I can't see how you could more powerfully convey the anger and hurt than with "I'd unfuck you if I could." Also the "sOoOoO" in the second chorus is still best part (also the barks). Also the pitched-down backup vocals are tight in this song, really gets you into the frantic, pissed off headspace.

9. NBA - I like the potential double meaning of the chorus in this one; everyone in LA looks like you cause I'm missing you and seeing you everywhere, but also it’s kind of insulting, like "everyone in LA looks like you, you're not special." But aside from that, another very pretty albeit sad song. The chorus with full instrumentation and harmonies really hits hard. I also like the 11:11 connection with tying breath in knots; you're always really great at bringing back recurring images and lines in your writing, it makes your discography feel really connected and like you're actually writing these things, it's not some producer in a studio writing lyrics for you. These songs all lead into each other; the songs on Fandom could not exist without what came before in DD and Entertainment. That evolution is always really interesting to see, how these different motifs recur and change their meaning over time. I assume the main metaphor of this might also be a callback to Crybaby with “chasing through dreams in bloom.”

10. IMHSBALIDWDA - Definitely one of my favorites, it's just so damn fun. And once again some cool vocal effect you have going on in the background, which I always love. The lyrics here are fun but also biting; I've been thinking of this as a commentary on how fans don't really care about an artist's well-being or life even if they try to act like they do, they just want new songs and good performances and new merch etc. etc. no matter what it means the artist is going through or how they feel when they sing these emotionally devastating songs. So the chorus to me is kinda like a self-care anthem in a way, setting aside all the negative stuff and admitting to yourself hey, at least I feel kind of better now; maybe not entirely better, but I'm getting there.

11. War Crimes - Another song with sad lyrics but musically it goes so damn hard, another favorite. "I'm forgetting how to hate myself" is one of my favorite lyrics on the album, as is "My death will be the fandom." I don't even totally know what to say about this song cause sooo much is going on and it's just crazy. "Let's go!" is also a favorite moment. And the "I saved my own life" calling back to Not Warriors is tight.

12. [Reboot] - Hey is "I need to sleep alone" a reference to Sleep Alone!!!!!?!???? I've already talked to you about this song a lot too so I don't have much new to say. The vocal effect on the bridge is dope. The breaths before verse 2 are maybe my favorite part, as well as what you do on "all on you" including holding out "you" into the chorus. And whatever's going on in the background at the end of that second chorus, I can't tell if it's vocals or instruments or what, but it sounds really cinematic and cool.

13. Worst - This new version is so cool, it has so much texture that the demo didn't. Vocals are also really pretty. The added bass and electronics really add a lot of rhythm and an interesting vibe to this; the bass is almost jazzy in a way? But then the electronics/percussion are almost like a dance beat but really stripped down? I dunno, it's such an odd combination, especially with the guitar just being acoustic. One of the most interesting songs on the album sonically despite being comparatively "simple" at first listen.

14. Zone Out - My least fave just because it's such a simple interlude, but what I like that it does is like...basically comments on the preceding songs I guess? It's like a question to the listener. At the beginning you've got Dream Boy setting up their expectations, then this comes at the very end and essentially asks them, "After hearing all of these angry heartbroken songs, am I still your dream boy? Do you still think love exists because of me even though I've gone through all this and don’t believe in it myself?" I like that it makes the listener confront their previous feelings and expectations before we dive into the finale.

15. IFYWWM - First off I absolutely love the effect you put on the vocals at the start of this, especially with how that effect abruptly cuts off; it's so weird and interesting and I never get tired of hearing it. The difference between the demo and this final version is amazing, I love this song. And "I said I loved you to death so I must be dead" is such a great one-two punch; it hits hard as a "fuck you!" line with being a way to say you don't love her anymore, but then you realize how sad it is that the effect has been this emotional death that pervades the entire album and eventually leads right back into Cherry Red. Which is also a depressing ending; it's so abrupt without any closure about anything talked about on the album, and the way that it circles back into the opener kind of implies to me that maybe there's a sense of circularity to everything, it's unending, the songs will always be fueled by heartbreak and the emotional trauma will never go away and dealing with it in the public eye of the fandom will always be overbearing.

http://www.travismriddle.com/blog/2019/10/29/toxic-fandom-public-heartbreak-and-the-feedback-loop

[sugarcoated-pain]

Heavy Rotation Part 4

Hey guys! I’m excited to share this next part with you! Let me know what you think! As always, big thanks to @sublimehood for making sure this shit is actually worth posting! haha

Warnings: Mild drug (just pot) and alcohol usage, cussing.. that’s about it. lol.

Best Friends to Lovers- original character + Ashton

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

As is to be expected, I slept for most of New Year’s Day. Things were pretty quiet, so I assume the others did the same thing. I lay awake in bed that afternoon staring at the ceiling, dreading leaving my room after what had happened. Would things between Ashton and I be awkward now? Would he be mad at me? Would he pretend nothing happened? My brain analyzed every possible scenario over and over again. I eventually decided that I couldn’t hide in my room all day and would have to greet the day, whatever it may bring.

Georgia and Calum were watching TV on the couch when I entered the living room.

“Good morning sunshine.” Calum’s tone is dry and unenthusiastic. He is clearly also suffering from the night before.

“Hey guys,” I grumble, taking a seat on the other sofa. “Where’s everybody else?”

“Mikey is hung over as fuck and went back to bed. Luke disappeared halfway through the night, and never came back. We think he left with some girl at some point.” Georgia answers, “but since I know you’re actually referring to Ashton, he went over to Camille’s to tell her the truth about what happened last night.”

My eyes go wide and I glare at Georgia, looking quickly to Calum and then back to Georgia.

“Relax. He already knows.” she responds.

“GREAT. Thanks G.” I retort sarcastically.

“Actually, Ashton told me.” Cal replies.

“WAIT WHAT?!” my eyes go wide again. “What did he say?!?!”

“NOPE. Not playing that game.”

Before I can respond, the front door opens and Ashton walks through. He looks like HELL. I mean, let’s be real, even at his worst, he looks better than anyone else I’ve ever seen, but this might be his WORST. His appearance is disheveled and he’s clearly hung over, but there is something else there. His eyes are red and puffy, and he has a pained look on his face that I never wanted to see.

“Hey Ash… everything okay?” I ask, concerned. He plops down on the couch next to me and buries his face in his hands. I exchange a quick worried look with Georgia and turn back to Ashton.

He’s quiet for a few moments, and then without lifting his head, says “I went over to talk to Camille… and there was another guy there.”

The other three of us gasp. “Are you fucking kidding me??” Calum says angrily.

“Nope” Ashton answers as he sits up and leans back on the couch. “Apparently she’s been seeing him behind my back for about six months now..”

I sit up straight, “Georgia, let’s go. We’re beating this bitch’s ass right now.”

As I begin standing up, Ashton puts his hand on my arm to stop me and gently pushes me back onto the couch.

Georgia ignores me and watches him sympathetically. “Ash, I’m so sorry. That is so shitty.”

He sighs. “I should have known. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” I answer quickly. “She’s a horrible bitch and I really hate her now.”

“You always hated her..” he comments..

“I strongly disliked her before but now I HATE her for doing this to you.” I’m in best friend mode right now. Last night is completely out the window at this point. I rest my hand gently on his shoulder supportively. He looks up at me, those perfect eyes filled with pain, and my heart shatters. How could anyone do this to him? How could this bitch not realize what she had?

“What did I do, Em? What did I do wrong to deserve this?” he asks me quietly, leaning his head on my shoulder.

Georgia, clearly coming to the conclusion that this is not the time for an audience, suggests, “hey Cal, why don’t we go grab some food or something to cheer Ash up?”

Picking up on the cue, “yeah okay. Your favorite pizza and beer, sound good buddy?” Calum adds. Ashton shrugs, and the two of them get up to leave.

Once they’re gone, I turn to Ashton.”Wanna go up to the roof?”

“Sure.” He shrugs again.

“Okay. I’ll meet you up there. I gotta grab something.” I reply and stand up to head to my bedroom. When I get there, I pack the last of my pot into Ashton's favorite pipe. After that, I reach under my bed and pull out a small shopping bag. I grab my acoustic guitar and lighter along with everything else and climb out my window onto the fire escape.

Ashton is waiting for me when I get up to the roof. I hand him the pipe and lighter and sit down next to him, setting my guitar on my other side.

“I got you something. It reminded me of you so I got it for your birthday, but I don't want to wait that long and I think you could use it now.” I say as I hand him the bag before he can light the pipe. With a questioning look at me, he reaches into the bag and pulls out a dark red, ornate journal with a matching pen. “This kind is my favorite for writing music in, and this one made me think of you for some reason.”

He spends a few moments examining the journal, then turns to me with a look of mild disbelief, followed by a smile. “Thanks, Em.”

“I write when I'm going through some shit, and I know you're the same way, so I figured you could use it now.” I add with a shrug.

After looking it over for a little while longer, he sets it down and lights the pipe, handing it to me after taking a hit. “Hey… about last night..” he starts.

“Don't. We don't have to talk about it now.. or ever. I messed up.” I answer quickly.

“No. I mean… I just don't want things to be weird between us.. especially now. I could really use my best friend right about now…”

“Calum?”I ask with a smirk and take a hit off the pipe.

“No, dork. I mean you.”

“I can handle that role.” I reply, passing the pipe back to him.

“Or maybe even .. best friends with benefits?” I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Suggest that again when you’re not so vulnerable..” I say with a short laugh, half hoping he’s not joking. I pick up my guitar to prevent myself from looking as awkward as I feel right now and start lightly strumming. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that he has started writing in the journal. We sit like this for a while in comfortable silence.  Eventually, I ask, “Do you wanna talk about the Camille thing or would you rather just chill?”

“I think I’d rather just chill for now.” he lets out a sigh and leans back, staring out at the city ahead. “What’s that you’re playing?” he asks.

“Eh, just a little something I’ve been working on lately…”

“You wrote that? Are there lyrics yet?”  

“Yeah.. it’s basically done. I haven’t played it for anybody yet…”

“Can I hear it?”

I stop strumming and turn to look at him. The look on his face is one of genuine interest. “You sure? I don’t really know how good it is..”

“I’ll tell you if it’s good or not, just let me hear it.”

I sigh. “Alright.” I begin playing the riff he had just heard, only louder and more deliberate now. After a few seconds, I start singing along. I don’t know why I’m nervous, I’ve sang for Ashton dozens of times. Maybe it’s because of what happened last night. Maybe it’s the fact that this is an extremely personal song that means a lot to me. I glance over at him every now and then, and every time, he is watching me intently. I can feel my cheeks getting red. Why am I being so weird about this? I finish the song and look over at him expectantly.

His expression is impossible to read. After a few seconds, he starts to stand up. “C’mon. I have an idea.” he says, reaching his hand down to help me up as well.

“What? Where are we going?”

“Just follow me.” He heads back down the fire escape in the direction of his room, then climbs through the window. I follow behind him. I’ve only been in his room a couple times and I try to take in as much as I can every time. It smells like him. It’s a little messy, but not gross. There’s band posters on the walls and random musical instruments all over the place. Ashton grabs his keys off his dresser then pulls me by my hand out of the room. He continues out of the apartment, down the stairs. The record store and studio are closed for the holiday, so it’s dark downstairs when he unlocks the back door to the store. Once we are through the purple curtains, he flips the lights on in the recording studio.

“Ash.. what are we……” I start to ask, completely confused.

“That song was incredible and I want you to record it.”

“What the hell? Are we even allowed to be in here?”

“I’m vulnerable right now, remember? I can do whatever I want. And I want to help you record a demo using that song you just played for me.”

My brain can’t process what he is telling me, so I just stare at him in disbelief. He turns the rest of the lights on and starts to turn on the machines. “Go on, get in the booth.” He motions for me to enter.

“You’re insane.. Are you serious right now?”

“YES. I just got my heart broken and this is a damn good distraction now get your ass in the booth and sing for me.”

I feel like I could cry. A mix of every possible emotion rushes through my body, and I’m eventually able to convince my legs to carry me into the recording booth. I sit on the stool that’s already in the room and position my guitar. Watching Ashton through the glass, I wait for his signal. When he gives me the thumbs up, I take a deep breath, and start to play. My song flows out of me. I know if I think too much, I’ll fuck it up, so I allow the music to take over. I’m not paying attention to anything but this song- not the fact that my life long dream might finally be coming true, not the gorgeous man on the other side of the glass making it a reality-nothing but the song. Approximately two and a half minutes later, it’s over. I’m shaking from head to toe, I’m almost hysterical. I set my guitar down and run out of the booth. Ashton is grinning from ear to ear. I practically jump into his arms to hug him.

“That felt so amazing. Oh my god I can’t believe I just did that!” The hug lasts a little longer than it should, and take one awkward little step back from him, still beaming though.

“You sounded fantastic. I’m really fucking proud of you right now.”

If I wasn’t blushing before, I definitely am now.

“There you guys are! We’ve been looking everywhere!” Calum and Georgia push through the heavy curtain. “We’ve got pizza and beer upstairs… what’re you guys doing down here?”

“Emma wrote a kick ass song and I just helped her record it for a demo.” Ashton says, beaming down at me with pride.

Georgia turns to me excitedly, and bounce over to her and jump up and down while squealing. It’s real cute, I promise. The rest of the evening involves the four of us eating pizza, drinking beer, talking about music and watching movies, and never once mentioning that bitch Camille’s name.

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

taglist: @cheyenne-in-wonderland @drummerboy794 @harrysgucciclothes @emmamarshmellow

let me know if you’d like to be added to the list for future parts! Also, if you’re enjoying this series, I’d love it if you could reblog so others can see it too! THANKS! <3 

[pythonees]

Old Friends - V - S.Harrington

January 17th, 2018

Word Count: 2,801

A/N: Sorry for the late update for this, but the good (or bad) news is that there is only one more part left. Hope you guys like this, my sick ass has been slaving over this for the past couple of days. I plan on doing another multi-part fic in the future, but this time for my man Bucky Barnes, so if any of yall are Bucky fans, that’s something to look forward to in the near future.

Part: I – II – III – IV -- current – VI

Mike and El were catching up quietly by the door, voices too low for Y/N to hear. Instead, Y/N looked towards the now broken window, peeking out to see a few more monster bodies lying dead on the front lawn. Y/N were far enough away that she couldn’t hear the two of them, but Mike’ response to whatever Eleven said was loud enough for everyone in the room to catch, voice tinged with confusion. Y/N turned to watch the exchange, arm brushing up against Steve as he took half a step forward to get in hearing range.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? That you were okay?”

“Because I wouldn’t let her.” Hopper stated, stepping forward to wrap El in a tight hug, “The hell is this? Where have you been?”

“Where have you been?” El snapped back, but returned into the hug, all of the tension in her body melting away at the simple touch. Mike, however, looked less than pleased. Y/N could see the moment Mike realized what was going on.

“You’ve been hiding her.” Y/N looked to the other kids, but it seemed that Mike was the only on that figured it out. Y/N looked back to Mike to see him raise his hand to hit an unsuspecting Hopper, “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”

“Hey!” Jim quickly spun around to grab Mike by the collar of his shirt, “Let’s talk. Alone”

Hopper dragged Mike off towards the bedroom, leaving El standing awkwardly in front of everyone. El watched them go, not even paying attention the Lucas and Dustin who had just stepped up to her. It wasn’t until they wrapped her in a hug that she did, flinching slightly at the contact. She was quick to hug them back though, a blissful look on her face.

"We missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"We talked about you pretty much every day," Dustin said as the two of them stepped back from the girl. His smile was taking up his whole face, and El seemed to zero in on his mouth.

Her hand came up to poke at his mouth, and Y/N had to force down her laugh, "Teeth."

"What?"

"You have teeth." Dustin smiled in understanding, showing them off.

"Oh. You like these pearls?" He then decides to purr, even though everyone has been trying to tell him it wasn't anywhere near as cool as he thought it was. El looked startled by the action, leaning away from him slightly. Y/N had to bring her hand up to muffle her laughter.

"Eleven?" Max stepped forward, giving El an awkward smile as she thrust her hand out in front of her, "Hey. Um, I'm Max. I've heard a lot about you."

El barely even let her finish before she was brushing past Max, going straight to Joyce who wrapped her up in a warm hug. Max looked lost, but when her eyes met Y/N's she went over to stand next to her.

"Don't take it to heart," Y/N whispered, "She probably isn't a fan of new people after everything that's happened to her."

Max nodded but didn't look convinced, watching El and Joyce walk towards the bedrooms.

With not much else to do, Y/N moved to the broken window, picking up the large pieces of glass while everyone else moved to do their own thing. Thankfully it was almost all large pieces, but there were some small pieces that couldn't be picked up by hand, so Y/N grabbed a piece wood to push the glass up against the wall so no one would get hurt.

When Y/N turned back around Joyce and El were back, standing at the dining table. Everyone moved forward to hear what they were saying when they heard Joyce mention the gate. When El confirmed that she could, in fact, close it, Lucas left to go get Mike and Hopper to fill them in.

After a brief discussion on how to close the gate while saving Will, everyone split up around the property to find anything that could give off heat. Everything was loaded into the car, from heaters to toasters, shoved into the trunk of the car.

Y/N stood outside with Steve and the kids to see everyone off, watching as the two cars disappeared down the dark road and into the night. As soon as the tail lights were out of sight Steve ushered everyone inside, dragging a distracted Mike in by the arm. Y/N got to work cleaning whatever she could, grabbing the garbage can from the kitchen to put the large pieces of glass in.

Behind her, Steve and Dustin were arguing about the demo-dog, and when Y/N looked ever her should Steve was crouched down next to the monster, wrapping a blanket around it with a disgusted look on his face before standing up with it in his arms. Y/N paid them no mind, moving back to the glass for less than a second before she could hear things being thrown to the ground somewhere behind her.

Not wanting to look, but knowing she had to, Y/N stood up slowly from the ground, brushing the dirt off her pants before following the noise to the kitchen, passing by Lucas and Max who were carrying the broom and dustpan. She saw Steve first, standing in the middle of the kitchen looking unamused with the monster cradled in his arms. Y/N only had to take another step forward to be met with the sight of Dustin, hidden behind the fridge door, dropping the contents of the fridge onto the floor.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m preserving a groundbreaking scientific discovery.”

“And this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow when all of this is over?”

Dustin closed the fridge door half way so that he could see Y/N, shooting her a dirty look before turning to Steve, “Now come on, it’s gotta be cold or it’ll rot.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve moved forward, giving in to Dustin's antics, “But you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, all right?”

The two of them struggled to get it in, and Y/N watched amused as they bickered while shoving at the thing some more before finally closing the fridge door. The two of them stepped back, watching the door as it was going to spring open before turning to Y/N.

“What?” Steve asked when he noticed the amused but disgusted look on her face.

“You’ve got slime all over you.” Y/N gestured to Steve's shoulder, where the goop was shining in the dim light of the kitchen.

Steve followed Y/N’s line of sight, face crumpling in disgust when he noticed it. He moved to shave it off of himself, but stopped, slowly looking up to give Y/N a playful smirk. Arms thrown wide, he took a step towards Y/N, “Gimme a hug.”

“No,” Y/N slowly started to back up, desperately looking to Dustin for help. He just shook his head, inching around Steve to go hide in the living room. Instead, Y/N grabbed a discarded dish towel sitting on the counter next to her, throwing it at Steve who caught it easily.

“C’mon Y/N, I thought you cared about me?”

“Not enough to get that shit all over me.” Steve gasped in mock horror, free hand coming up to cover his chest over his heart as he continued to advance on Y/N.

“You wound me, Y/N. After all we’ve been through?” Steve opened his mouth to say more, but the kid's voice carried in from the other room, and all traces of playfulness dropped from his face. He stormed past Y/N to stand in front of the kids, hands on his hips and a look on his face that Y/N thought only parents could pull off.

“We are not, under any circumstances, going to get involved.” The kids ignored him, discussing how they want to pull the demo-dogs away from the lab to clear a path for El.

Y/N was barely following along with them as they continued to spout off ideas when Mike darted past her. Everyone moved to follow him into the next room where he stopped in front of a spot on the map covered the wall, pointing to a seemingly random area on the map.

“This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So…,” Mike moved to another part of the map, everyone trailing behind him to see what he was thinking, “Here, right here. This is like a hub. So you got all of the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…”

“Oh, yeah? That’s a no.” Steve tried to shut down their train of thought again, only for them to continue on as if he hadn’t said a word, “Hey, Guys. Hey. Hey! Hey! This is not happening.”

“But-”

“No, no, no, no, no. No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. We’re staying here, on the bench, and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?”

At the end of Steve’s speech, the kids turned to Y/N, who at that point hadn’t said anything since leaving the kitchen. Shifting uncomfortably, Y/N looked between the kids quickly, “It definitely doesn’t sound safe.”

Steve nodded his head, happy Y/N agreed with him, but Mike was not amused, “But-”

“I said does everyone understand that?” The kids were silent, glaring angrily up at Steve and Y/N, “I need a yes.”

An engine revving in the distance caught everyone's attention, and Max bolted to the window behind the couch to look outside, Lucas following close behind. It only took her a second before she figured out who it was, “It’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me,” Max turned to look at Lucas, “He’ll kill us.”

It was simple really, stay away from the windows while steve somehow got Billy to leave. But Y/N turned her head for one second, and when she turned back all the kids were smushed up against the window to see what was going on. Before Y/N could even yell at them they were all ducking down on the couch. The kids all scrambled away from the door, and Y/N moved to stand in front of them.

The door slammed open, Billy angrily stomping into the room. He gave Y/N a quick once-over before moving to walk around her, but Y/N moved to stay in front of him, hands raised in front of her.

“Look, Billy-”

“Shut up,” Billy muttered, grabbing at her hands and throwing her to the side where she fell into a shelf, taking books and random knick-knacks down with her as she dropped to the floor. Y/N couldn’t hear or see much, hazy from the pain in her side as she quickly but unsteadily stood up.

When she was on her feet she turned to where the kids were, only to find Lucas shoved up on the china cabinet in the kitchen by Billy. Angry, Y/N stormed u to him, grabbing the hair at the back of his head to get him away. Billy let out a roar of pain as he stumbled back, swinging around to land a hard punch on Y/N’s cheek, causing her to stumble back into the dining table.

Y/N stumbled forward to hit him, but Billy was faster, shoving her back hard enough to topple her over one of the chairs that were pulled away from the table. She threw her hand out to catch herself, but her entire bodyweight forced down on her wrist, causing it to bend at an odd angle before giving out entirely. Y/N’s head hit the floor hard, and she stifled a scream as she cradled her wrist to her chest, feeling around the tender flesh, thankfully finding nothing wrong.

There was more yelling from the kids, and Y/N opened her bleary eyes to watch as Max shoved a needle into Billy’s neck. Gasping for breath, Y/N dragged herself off of the ground to where the kids were, stumbling to a stop to stare down at Billy, unconscious on the ground, with Steve’s bat lodged into the ground between his legs.

“Holly shit,” Y/N slurred, turning to look at Max, who was holding Billy’s keys in her hands., “Oh, no. You’re not driving. You probably can’t even reach the pedal.”

“Y/N, you can’t even stand up straight, you can’t drive right now,” Max rolled her eyes, batting Y/N’s hand away when she moved to take them from her, “We’re going with or without you. Plus, I know how to drive. I’ve done it before.”

Turns out Max did, in fact, know how to drive. Lucas was in the front guiding Max while Y/N, Steve, Mike and Dustin were crammed into the back. Steve was still knocked out, slouched up against Y/N and smearing blood all over her shirt while Dustin was holding an ice pack to Steve’s head. Though from the numbness of her nose, Y/N figured some of it was hers too.

Most of the ride was thankfully silent, Y/N’s pounding headache a more manageable level. There’s a groan from Steve, and Y/N looks over to watch Steve as he looked around the car. He didn’t seem to notice what was going on at first, mistaking Mike for Nancey before turning his attention to the front of the car. He stared at Max blankly for a moment before everything seemed to register, causing him to freak out.

Dustin tried to calm him down, but he was getting more hysterical by the second. The commotion was making Y/N’s headache worse, and she closed her eyes tightly to trying and ignore the sound, to no avail. Max was getting agitated, and speed up the car, causing everyone to start yelling over each other and for Max to almost miss her turn.

They sped through a field, the car being thrown every which way as the tires flew over the uneven ground. Y/N hand her hands braced on the car, head bobbing around as Steve continued to yell. Y/N looked up just in time to see the hole to the tunnels coming up, and braced herself on the passenger seat in front of her just before Max slammed on the breaks.

Everyone quickly got out of the car, Dustin pulling Y/N out and towards the trunk where all the gear they brought was. Everyone started putting stuff on, Y/N slower than the rest, while Steve objected from his spot slouched against the car door. Y/N grabbed an oil can, giving Steve an apologetic smile as she passed him by, placing it next to the hole.

When none of the kids responded to him he got angrier, to the point where his anger seemed to steady him enough to storm up to Dustin, ripping whatever he had out of his hand and throwing it back into the trunk.

“Steve, you’re upset, I get it. But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance,” Y/N listened to Dustin while helping the others into the hole, passing them cans after they dropped down, “Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe,” Dustin pulled a backpack and Steve’s bat out of the trunk, holding it out to Steve, “So, keep us safe.”

It seemed that was all the convincing Steve needed, because when Y/N looked up from the dark hole Steve and Dustin were standing next to her, geared up and ready to go. Y/N took Dustin’s oil can, letting him jump in before dropping it down to him. When he moved out of sight Y/N looked back up to Steve.

“Ready to go Rambo?”

Steve just groaned, rolling his eyes before gesturing to the hole. Y/N laughed but swung her legs over the edge, picking up her discarded flashlight before dropping into the darkness.

M A S T E R   L I S T

Tagged:  @clickyourheelsandaskforseb – @stevieboyharrington – @cherriesinspring – @harringtonwife – @fayefayefn

[echelonlab-blog]

Bound By Ink -- Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Fiction.

Warnings: None

Tagging: @hazeleyedleto @msroxyblog @letojokerownsme @miss-shannanigans@snewsome756   @maliciousalishious   @nikkitasevoli@meghan12151977@sanellv@ambolton@bradlea23@spillinginkwithlove@alexis7215@dezmarz@pezziecoyote@whoistheprettiest@avaj99@iridescxntsolitude@pheenixpeterson@guccilowell@blondiefrommars@rowen1976@phoebehalliwell1984@thathipstaninja@darthjokerisyourfather@letsbemybatman  @prettymisc@lylabell2013 @mandyglam @pandaliciouz @just-me-obsessing@echelon-1969 @carolinapb-me @marilyndioncre

    “Have you seen the back to my earring Jayce?” I was rushing around trying to get ready for our night out with Shannon. Jayce was sitting at the table, drawing yet another gothic masterpiece and as usual, waiting until the last possible minute to get his shoes on.

   Without stopping or glancing up, he responded. “Why would I know where the back of your earring is, it’s not like I have any piercings, that’s all you and dad.” I huffed and went back into my room to look and see if I overlooked it a minute ago. “Do I seriously have to go with you? I told you, I don’t care about your boyfriend and I’d rather just go stay at the shop with dad.”

I pulled off the back to a different earring, dropping the earring itself back it into my jewelry box and shoving the back in place behind my ear. “You most certainly do. Be nice Jayce, he specifically invited you in an attempt to get to know you better, and let’s not forget that you owe me after trying to give me a heart attack the other day at school.” I made an appointment with his specialist that I loved so much for Friday afternoon and there have been no more issues since, so I was confident he’d be fine until then.

 He stopped in the doorway, watching me look myself over. “That’s blackmail mom! Ryan’s mom would never do that to him and besides, what’s he care about getting to know me anyway?”

  I glared at him in the mirror before spinning around to see that he finally had his shoes on. “Ahh the joys of motherhood, first you carry them for nine months and then you go through hours of agonizing pain, pushing them out only to use them as your own personal slave once they’re old enough. Jayce, sweety, I’m not Ry’s mom, I’m yours, and blackmail is just the tip of the iceberg.” I kissed his cheek as I passed him, continuing with my little speech as I wandered around the kitchen making sure none of the appliances were left on. “Shannon is a nice guy Jayce, asking to have you present should be taken as a compliment, not an insult. That shows effort on his part that he cares enough to get to know you. Jayce, you know that I rarely ask much of you, I mean you’re the best kid I could have ever asked for. For the most part you stay out of trouble and do extremely well in school, but can you please do this one thing for me? I’m not asking you to kiss his ass, just be pleasant.”

  He stood there, shoving his hands in his pockets and mulling over what I was asking him to make a life decision. Letting out a frustrated breath, he stared at me. “Okay, I’ll do it for you and mom, stop checking yourself, you look nice.”

 Little shit was gonna make me cry and ruin my makeup. “Thank you,” I responded, trying to stop my watery eyes from making tracks down my face. “Let’s get out of here.” We were meeting Shannon at this Italian restaurant he had been telling me about.

   We parked in the parking garage and walked to the front of the restaurant, where Shannon was waiting. “Hey beautiful,” he whispered, leaning forward and giving me a sweet kiss. “Jayce, it’s good to see you again.” He held out his hand for Jayce to shake.  

 “Hi,” my son said reluctantly, but gave a half smile for effort. Like a true gentleman, Shannon held the door open for us and we entered. We were immediately taken to a table. I didn’t realize how fancy it was and was already kicking myself for not making Jayce change into some better clothing.

  Jayce pulled the pencil and folded up piece of paper from his back pocket. It was his sketch from earlier and he continued right where he left off. “Really Jayce?” I knew he was doing it to avoid conversation, but I wasn’t having it.

“What is that? Can I see?” Shannon asked and I watched Jayce shrug and hand him the paper with the drawing of a skull wearing a top hat. “Wow, this is really good Jayce. Dude, you should consider doing this professionally, one day.” Jayce was beaming at the compliment and Shannon nudged me. “That talent was passed down by some amazing, artistic parents.”

 “I can see art in my future, but I know that I don’t want to tattoo like my parents.” It was the first time I ever heard Jayce say that and I stared at him, shocked and kind of relieved.

“So, you guys have any idea what you feel like eating?” Shannon asked, clasping his hands on top of the table, not even bothering to look over the menu.

  I watched my son’s eyes pop out when looking through the selections. “I think I’m going with the spinach ravioli with mushrooms. Jayce, there’s grilled chicken.” I knew my son could be very picky at times and he loved all things normal boys do, burgers and chicken. He certainly wasn’t used to fine dining at places like this. With my crazy work hours, I would often cook ahead of time and freeze it, that way, Jayce could just heat it up and eat.

 “Mom they have lobster here. I’ve never had lobster.” He was so excited. Jayce always was adventurous, but I thought he should stick to something he knows he likes rather than waste food.

  “Kiddo, you might not like it. Maybe get something you know you will enjoy, like chicken.”

Shannon put his hand over mine. “Scarlett I hope I’m not stepping on your toes here, but I think you should let him choose. I know you look at him like your baby boy, but tonight, at this table, he’s a young man who can choose his meal.”

“Okay,” he was right, I did baby him and it wasn’t my intention to, but like Shannon said, I guess I’ll always look at him like a little kid.

He winked over at Jayce just as the waiter came over. “Order whatever you want.” Jayce, of course, ordered the lobster and I stuck with the spinach ravioli and mushrooms. Shannon ordered the salmon and after the waiter left the table, Shannon looked at my son as he took my hand. “So, I just wanted to tell you that I really like your mom a lot and I’ve enjoyed the dates we’ve been on. Would you mind if I asked your permission to date her exclusively, you know, she and I will agree not to see anyone else? I mean, if you don’t want me to, I won’t. I just thought that it’s the polite thing to do.”

 I side eyed him when he looked from Shannon and then over to me, but he didn’t disappoint me. “I’d be okay with that.”

 “Thanks, man, I promise to treat her right and take care of her.” Shannon was all smiles and after that, you couldn’t shut Jayce up. He ended up finding that he was a fan of lobster, which shocked me. The boys talked over dinner about their mutual love for skulls, music, and of course more art. I gave a few nods and an occasional smile, listening to the conversation flow. Shannon showed Jayce some photos of his brother's drawings and the two of them certainly seemed to have created a nice little friendship. It was great to watch Jayce open up a little, even sharing with Shannon the fact that he was diabetic.

When it was over, Shannon walked us to my car and Jayce kept going, leaning over the guardrail and allowing us a little privacy. Shannon’s arms wrapped around me, giving me a warm kiss. “I had a good time getting to know Jayce, he’s a great kid Scarlett.”

 Grinning, I slid my arms around his neck. “Thank you for trying so hard, I’ve never had a guy go out of his way to really want to get to know him. It means a lot to me.”

 He squeezed me tighter, giving me that classic wink. “Their loss. He’s part of you and if they really cared about you, they’d want to get to know him. Too late now, you’re all mine.” He pulled me even closer, brushing the hair from my shoulder. “I hate to say goodnight, but I know you gotta get him home. Just for the record, you would have been my dessert tonight.”

  Clutching him to me, I whispered right back. “I’m sorry, next date will be just you and me.” Pressing my lips to that little triad tattoo, I snuck in a bite before pulling away.

 He gripped my wrists and kissed my neck. My skin tingled where his lips touched me and my heart began to beat erratically. “Such a tease. Thanks for that little demo of what I’ll be missing, I’ll have to remember it when I’m getting myself off in the shower later.”

  “You should call me instead. I don’t wanna brag or anything, but I’m quite good at some filthy phone sex.” I raised my eyebrows, noting the smirk on his face.

 “Sold, but you call me when you’re free. I’ll be waiting gorgeous.” Giving me a soft, passionate kiss, he moved away. “Jayce, have a good night and I’ll be seeing you again.”

 Jayce cane hopped down and walked to the passenger side door. “Later,” he called out and narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”

 I slid into my seat and started my car. “Thank you, tonight was perfect.”

 He looked away, out the window, like he was annoyed. “He’s alright I guess.” He was so full of shit, he had a good time, even if he wouldn’t admit it to me, or maybe he felt like he was betraying his father.

“Thank you anyway, you were very polite and I appreciate it.”

[shirtlesssammy]

Ghostfacers: 3x13 Recap

Then:

Harry and Ed are just professional paranormal investigators trying to get a book and movie deal.

Now:

The 2007 writers’ strike is over but that’s not stopping Supernatural from laying down a little meta commentary about the unscripted hellscape we all were heading towards. Yay for writers!

Harry and Ed are back to show us that alternate world --the one where they are the expert monster hunters; a world where we’d all be watching Ghostfacers. Catchy theme song aside, I think we can all agree with Dean with this alt-world:

With gunslinger music apropo of their hero status, Ed and Harry exit their car in suitable slow-mo dramatics. Several cars zoom by in the background. Mockumentary style, they catch the audience up on what they’ve been doing since we last saw them in season one. They set their own hours at the Kinko’s they work at, and they’ve assembled a team.

Phase I: The Homework

We meet the Ghostfacers! Alan Corbett is the Intern/Cook, and got involved because he saw Ed put up flyers and wondered where do ghosts come from? Maggie is Ed��s adopted sister, and part of the research team. Spruce is their cameraman, licensed shamanologist, and 1/16 Cherokee.

The Case? Morton House. Every four years this place becomes the most haunted place in America. The Leap Year Ghost, some call it. Corbett brings Ed some french vanilla coffee. Yeah, Corbett’s got the hots for Ed. I mean, how can he not with that really golden, beautiful sort of beard? The meeting ends when one of their parents opens the garage door, breaking up their meeting space. Gold.

Phase II: Infiltration

The Ghostfacers arrive at the Morton House. With no permit, but bolt cutters in hand, they start to bust open the fence surrounding the property when they all hear the rumble of a car and classic rock blasting from its interior. They hide, while Sam and Dean scope the place briefly, before driving away. Ed returns to breaking open the locked gate. They quickly establish Command Center I: The Eagle’s Nest. They place cameras throughout the house. Ed inadvertently compliments Corbett. Reconvening at base camp, the team equips themselves with flashlights and ghosthunting gear.

Phase III: Face Time!

Ed and Corbett scan the first floor with their EMF. Ed calls out for the ghosts to show themselves, while Corbett works the camera and hyperventilates. Ed tries to help by advising Corbett to “Calm the whirlwinds of your mind.”

Harry, Maggie, and Spruce sweep the second floor. Spruce’s camera briefly malfunctions, but it’s no big deal --it’s not like you’re in a haunted house and any little thing could be a sign or anything!

Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god

There’s a rat. Harry believes that rats are like the rats of the world. Harry manages to walk back to the room with the rat when Spruce flings the dead rodent at him.

Meanwhile, Corbett continues to hyperventilate and freak out over nothing when the police arrive! Well, actually, it’s Sam and Dean.

Ed recognizes them immediately. The boys recognize Ed.

SAM: Holy [Bleep]!

DEAN: What?

SAM: Uh, West Texas... the... the tulpa we had to take out. Those two goofballs that almost got us killed... The hellhounds or something?

DEAN: [Bleep] me.

Dean tells Ed to get the hell out, but Ed called ‘dibs’, so they’re not going anywhere.

Meanwhile, the second floor group wander into a room that’s getting readings off the wall, temps dropping 11 degrees, and Spruce getting a specter on his camera. The ghost talks and then is shot, and disappears!

Dean, Sam, Ed, and Corbett head back to base camp. Dean and Sam make it very clear that people that spend the night on February 29th don’t live to talk about their visit. Their talk is interrupted by Harry, Maggie, and Spruce sprinting and screaming down the stairs. Harry then sees the brothers. And the Ghostfacers are not leaving the joint, no matter how hard Dean tries enticing them with ice cream. The team realizes that Corbett is missing. He’s wandering upstairs hoping to communicate with the restless spirits in the house. And he’s kidnapped by one of them just as it turns midnight! Now they’re all stuck in the house --and Sam happily reminds Dean that he’s got two months to live, but they’ll probably not live through the night.

Just then another spirit appears --they’re death echos, spirits that keep reliving their death. Dean tries shocking the spirit out of its loop --sometimes it works, but usually there has to be some connection with the deceased.

The group wanders the house looking for clues about the death echos, and Corbett’s whereabouts. They find information about Freeman Daggett, the house’s last owner, who died in 1964.

Daggett’s house was full of a lifetime supply of army rations and survivalist paraphernalia. He was a hospital janitor and Dean uncovers toe tags in Daggett’s box of Moste Precious Objects. Ew. Daggett was stealing himself “friends” from the morgue. The odd death echoes can be explained because the ghosts are lingering close to their remains.

Maggie goes missing, off on her own little heroic quest to save Corbett, though she’s quickly found by Dean (to Harry’s relief). The electrical equipment stutters and when the lights recover Sam is now missing, leaving only his flashlight.

While searching for Corbett and Sam, Maggie panics and Harry calms her with a kiss. OooOOOOoo. Ed, meanwhile, bursts in on them. “My best friend and my best sister,” he says angrily and the two fight. (I’m most touched by how he just calls her his sister, turning him into slightly less of an asshole.)

Cut to Corbett with a massive head wound slowly waking to the sound of Sam’s voice and the worst song in the world (“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to”). Sam sits across from him tied to a chair at a dusty old table. There are cups, plates, and party accoutrements laid out. Dead bodies are arranged in party poses. Daggett kills Corbett with a spike to the throat while Sam looks on and shouts at the ghost to stop.

The remaining team tries to figure out what’s making Daggett tick when Dean realizes that he was a cold war nut who was terrified of the world ending.

Dean heads to the basement where there’s likely a bomb shelter. Daggett forces the door shut, cutting Dean and Spruce off from Ed, Harry, and Maggie. Dean tells them to grab salt from his duffel bag, make a circle, and get inside. “Inside your duffel bag?” they ask. Lol.

Dean heads downstairs with Spruce while the B team follows Dean’s instructions. The lights flicker and they gather close together in the salt circle. The ghost is Corbett, shuddering in terror, blood pouring from his wounds. Oh, honey :(

Spruce asks Dean about his mysterious comment from earlier. Why did Sam say they had two months left? Dean tells him off and hones in on the dreadful repeated music. He pushes a shelf out of the way to expose a door.

Dean breaks in just as Daggett gets behind Sam with his death spike. We finally get a good view of the party, complete with party trumpets and little elastic hats (the elastic has really stood the test of time). Sam fills us in on the back story: Daggett stole the bodies from the morgue and at midnight on a leap year, went upstairs and dosed himself to death. Now every leap year he tries to get more people to come to his creepy-ass party.

Upstairs the B team mourns Corbett, watching him replay his death over and over again. Ed tells them that they’ve got to try to help Corbett. He’s trapped, he’s in pain, but he can be helped. Ed crosses the salt line and approaches the terrified ghost.

Downstairs, Dean tries to bust through the basement door when the ghost appears. Sam shoots it away.

Harry tells Ed that Corbett had feelings for him. Maybe he can use that connection to reach Corbett. “You’ve gotta go be gay for that poor dead intern. You gotta send him into the light.” And so, in a moment that shouldn’t be touching (but goddamnit, it totally is) Ed crosses the salt line once again.

Ed tells him that he meant a lot to him while tears fall. He tells Corbett that he loves him and Corbett is shocked out of his death loop. “Ed?” he asks. And then Corbett, finally aware of his own death and of the peril the others face, becomes the hero of the piece. Corbett blips downstairs, and drags Daggett into the light.

Morning dawns with a gentle blush and the team stumbles out of the house. We cut back to the studio where they eulogize Corbett. “Here we were thinking that, you know, we were teaching you and all this time you were teaching us, about heart, about dedication, and about how gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Thank you, Alan J. Corbett.” It’s...touching and hilarious in one neat package. (Also I am shamelessly waiting for season 13 where gay love is totally gonna pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Right? Right??? Come on, Supernatural, it can be like a present to Edlund on the occasion of his TV show taking off.)

Cut to Dean and Sam sitting in front of Harry and Ed’s computer watching the final cut of their Ghostfacers demo. Dean admits it was “half awesome” while Sam congratulates them on exploiting Corbett’s death. Whatever, they’re ready to make bank with DVD sales and wave the Winchesters a fond farewell. They discover a bag that Sam and Dean left behind and pull it open gleefully. In it is an electro-magnet (built, I like to think, by our little genius Dean Bean). The equipment in the room zaps and all the computers wipe. (Now the Ghostfacers back everything up to the cloud, amirite?) Dean and Sam tear out of the suburban driveway and back into the wild supernatural world beyond.

Quoter-Haters:

And two lone wolves need...other wolves

[Bleep] me

Listen here, chisel chest

It’s our “Grand Canyon”

I’m not gonna whine about my [bleep]ing problems to some [bleep]ing reality show

He’s never heard of a Real Doll?

Don’t be Facer-haters

[rpchive]

119th Encounter-- A Life on the Line

we’re finally dealing with Bandit!

Azreldeh waits in the console room with Demo, Nydins, Rio, and Paprika. Though Demo seems to be impatiently waiting for something, Azreldeh seems to be nervous for once in her life. Daedalus steps into the console room, already fully armored save for his helmet, which is fastened to his hip by a small hook. He adjusts one of his gauntlets as he glances around the room for a second. "Sheesh, atmosphere could be a little heavier, don't you think?" Azreldeh: Yeah, well...what else would it be? People don't fight devils, and if they do, they never win... Voltarus steps out from behind Daedalus in a small burst of flames, casually clapping one hand over Daedalus' shoulder as he turns to the group. "Well, you've never fought a devil with gods on your side, have you?"

I can’t believe Daedalus has a stand and it’s not called Hotel California

Azreldeh: I've never fought a devil at all! Anyone with any sense in their skull wouldn't! Voltarus: If you want to free the souls in that mirror world, I don't think there are any other options.

Daedalus: So what's our plan? Is this who we're going in with? Azreldeh: We're going with anyone crazy enough to come. I doubt they'll let Collin and Jay sit things out given that they see Jay as a prize...

Demo: Yeah, well they can't have him. He's not an object, or a toy, or a thing to be won; he's a person. I don't understand why nobody understands that after all this time...

Azreldeh: It's not that they don't understand, it's that they're selfish and uncaring. Everyone's a tool or a plaything for those kinds of people... Daedalus clicks his tongue as an annoyed look crosses his face. "I don't like the idea of bringing both of them along, but B-... that devil's gonna want Jay there, and Collin's not gonna want to let him go alone. 'Course I don't know how much good he'd do given how he is right now..." Azreldeh: They won't have a choice. If they don't go on their own, they'll just try to make Collin drag Jay out or something. Granted it'd probably be pretty easy for us to stop him, but I mean, if we're coming to the casino, this place is just a gift box, and they're gonna do whatever it takes to unwrap it. Daedalus: Ugh, I guess you have a point. Are they already on their way or do I gotta go knock some doors down? Azreldeh: What, the devil, or the lovebirds? Daedalus: Tweedledee and Tweedledumb, obviously. Jay comes into the console room, carefully helping Collin along. "You don't have to call us names..." Daedalus: Eh, it got you in here, at least. So again, anyone got a plan for how we're gonna take this asshole down or are we just wingin' it as per usual? Azreldeh: I don't know enough about them, unfortunately. The last time we saw them was the first time I'd seen them at all; I have no idea how or if they fight... Daedalus: If they can't fight aside from card tricks, this is gonna be almost as sad as it'd be hilarious. Azreldeh: Somehow I doubt it'll be that easy...they made the entire mirror dimension. I wouldn't put it past them to try and pull your shadows out, and, well...I don't know how well you could handle those two... Daedalus: We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. I'm not holding anything back now. Azreldeh: Just...be careful out there. For what it's worth, I'll be going with you. Echo's probably gonna join us; I know she was talking with Maya about...options...both her and Demo sorta agreed anubis alone won't be enough after last time... Daedalus: Fair enough, just watch out for yourself. This bastard's done enough to us already, I don't want anyone else getting caught up in their bullshit. Azreldeh: Believe me, I will. ...Anyway, if you don't have anything else to do, we'll probably be landing pretty soon, so... Daedalus: I've already taken my potty break, don't worry. I've been waiting on this for a while now. With a nod, Azreldeh heads over to the door to wait with Demo and the others. A little after the IT lands, Maya and Echo enter the console room as well, finishing up an ongoing conversation.

Maya: ...I'm serious, you only fire that thing if there's absolutely no alternative. Don't worry about lining up the shot, if you want it to hit something, it'll hit it, no matter what. You're fighting a devil, after all, so it's only fitting to give back...

Echo: I get it. I'll keep it in mind. It's hiding the damn thing that's the hard part.

Maya: Hey, even if they see it, it'll be the last thing they see if you want it enough. I'll see you when you get back, one way or another, so get out there. The rest of us'll wait here in case something goes south, I guess. ...Well, more south...

Echo: I don't think it gets more south than a devil... Collin: I sure hope it doesn't. I don't think I can take much more of all this. I just want my magic back... Demo: Well that one's not the devil's fault...

alienrabitt: Don't rub it in...

Azreldeh: Can we just go...? Daedalus: Sounds good to me.

okay, we’re finally kicking their ass, cool

The group exits the IT to Bandit's last known location, where the devil waits for them alone with little more than a colorful drink in front of them. Sipping from the glass, Bandit gives the small crowd a bored wave before returning the cup to the coaster. "It's been a while. Not too long, though. Nice of you to feel considerate, but I wasn't exactly expecting to my door delivery. Are you excited too?" Daedalus unhooks his helmet from his side and casually dons it as he responds. "Oh I'm excited alright, but probably not for the same reason." Bandit: Of course you didn't come here to have fun. That's the thing about you humans, you never loosen up. Fine, fine...

Picking up their drink again, they finish it off and toss the glass behind the couch they're seated on. There is no sound of it impacting anywhere. "The population of this room's about to double; are you sure you want to do this?" Daedalus: Assuming you don't wanna play nice and ditch that godawful mirror world, you don't leave us much of an option. Bandit: Fine, fine; suit yourself. Ehh...literally, I guess. Anyway; if you want a fight, meet your match; this isn't the kind of game I want to play.

Lazily gesturing upwards with their hand, Bandit summons forth the reflections of everyone in the room. Though Demo; Echo; and Azreldeh are notably lacking their own reflections, Jay; Daedalus; and Collin still have their own. Jay's reflection, however, remains spitefully adverse to combat, and keeps their distance behind the other two reflections, while Jay himself moves between the counterparts and Collin. Echo and Demo take the two remaining unguarded sides, surrounding Collin and leaving no room for surprises. Collin's double stares at the group with a strange, wide-eyed look for a moment before settling into a more normal expression. "... Is this some kind of joke? A trick, maybe? What happened to you? Coming into... wherever this is without any power of your own... It's like you're trying to get yourself killed." Demo: Who cares about him right now?! It's you guys that should be worried...!! SCollin: Oh? We'll just see about that! 

Two large tendrils of deep purple twist out from behind Collin's shadow and slash down in a cross formation, sending several orbs of dark magic hurtling toward them. Voltarus abruptly vanishes in another flash of fire as Daedalus charges in front of the attack and swings his left arm forward, causing a large tower shield to burst into being which scatters the attack into small fragments. Shifting to look around the shield, Daedalus waggles a finger with his free arm.

Daedalus: Now now, don't forget about little ol' me here. Azreldeh: Just don't forget about your own shadow too...! As if on cue, Daedalus' shadow lunges forward and stomps into the ground, freezing the ground in front of him in a line that abruptly shoots upward into a large spire of ice. Daedalus half-dodges, half-blocks the attack, the force knocking him back slightly as the ice hisses from the heat of his shield. A fiery shortsword forms in Daedalus' right hand before he charges around the spire for his double.

Shadow Collin, meanwhile, takes a step toward the others and swings his hands down, creating a row of shadowy spears that plunge down from the ceiling toward the group. Azreldeh, not enjoying how close for comfort the encounter is getting, sends up spires of flames towards the doppelganger, each one igniting another several feet ahead of it as the last burns out. With Azreldeh creating a distraction, Jay creates one of his dolls, leaving one balanced atop a large, glass ball full of yellow magic seated by Collin, surrounding the small group with an extra barrier. To top things off, Demo reinforces it with a hard, sandstone wall in a U-shape, leaving only the top open to Jay's barrier of light. Daedalus and his shadow begin a back-and-forth exchange, Daedalus unleashing streaks of flame with his sword paired with his weapon strikes, his counterpart ducking and weaving on a thin layer of ice around him while countering with blasts of ice magic. Daedalus finally breaks the cycle by slamming one foot on the ground, creating a shockwave of flames to force his shadow back.

Collin's double takes several more steps toward the barrier as a dark cloud forms over his arms. Reaching forward, twin hands stretch outward and expand to nearly the size of the barrier in front of him and slam against its sides. He begins grinding and clawing away at it with the spectral limbs as a small laugh escapes his lips.

SCollin: Is this really the best you can do? Hide all you want, it won't save you now! Azreldeh: What the hell are we gonna do about this guy?! Does he even have a weakness?!

Echo: He only saw his Jay as property; and Collin's so willing to make friends with everybody that his shadow only sees people as assets! If you're gonna stop this guy, it's only gonna be through brute force!

Demo: Yeah, well, we're all a little lacking in that department; and when you four can't even fight for long, if at all, we're so royally fucked it's not even funny.

alienrabitt: L-look, this thing's not gonna hold forever, we have to do something...!!

Demo: Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before you left everybody that could fight behind! Seriously, I bet even Seras can't do anything right now!! Daedalus glances over after getting a reprieve from his counterpart and notices shadow Collin's assault on the barrier. He growls in frustration and slams his shield against the blade of his sword, causing the two pieces to abruptly merge. The shield splits down the middle and opens up to form a double-edged axe head while a halo of fire swarms around the edges. He brings the weapon behind his back.

swaxe + sns main

Daedalus: Hey jackass, what'd I say about forgetting me?!

The axe head spins wildly at the tip of the weapon as he heaves it overhead and slams it into the floor in front of him, cracking through it with ease. A trio of burning comets roar out from the blade as it comes down and streak toward Collin's shadow, leaving searing trails in their wake. The shadow recognizes the attack and swiftly pulls back his claws to block just as the comets reach him. The comets detonate on impact with one booming crack after the other, and the shockwave slams the shadow into the wall, leaving a considerable dent as a result. Demo: ...You four can stay in here; I'm gonna go out there. Those idiots'd have to be flat out suicidal to come anywhere near my Candy Cane.

Engulfed in the sands of her anubis, Demo relocates to the outside of the shelled barrier, summoning forth her Candy Cane as she reappears. "...No point in letting you fight alone!" Daedalus hefts the axe back up out of the ground and holds it with both hands, looking in Demo's direction. "Oh good! I was starting to think I was being abandoned again. We've still got two bastards left, assuming Collin's shadow does us a favor and stays down for a second. Shall we go straight for the big boss?" Demo: Might as well! Maybe these nerds'll fuck off if we break the mirror! Daedalus starts to answer but gets cut off as a spear of ice shatters against his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards. Grunting in pain, he manages to regain his balance and staggers forward a step. "... Right, this asshole. Let's get him down for a second so we've got an opening."

He brings the axe up like a baseball bat and then takes a heavy swing, launching the axe head like a disc in his shadow's direction. The shadow dodges to the side, then brings up an ice wall to catch the weapon as it circles back around toward him like a boomerang. Placing her hands upon the ground, Demo creates a large spire of sandstone that erupts from the ground, aiming to disrupt the ice wall. The wall smashes apart upon impact, although the axe head simply tumbles to the ground and scatters into sparks, now robbed of its momentum and heat. Ducking away, Daedalus' shadow breathes out a conical gust of icy wind in Demo's direction. Before it reaches her, Daedalus steps in front of it and lets out a booming roar. The vents in his armor combust like a forge finally catching alight, and a massive blast of heat scatters the chilling wind apart. Gesturing to the sides, Demo creates large, sandstone walls on either side of Daedalus' counterpart, leaving him confined to a singular lane. "Wanna go bowling??" Daedalus looks back at Demo for a second, and she can practically feel the devious grin from inside his helmet. Looking back at his shadow, he claps his hands together and then slowly pulls them apart. A ball of fire quickly swells and crackles forth between his palms, expanding to be several feet wide in an instant. With unexpected speed, Daedalus hurls it toward his cornered shadow like a bowling ball. His shadow attempts to summon another wall of ice to block the attack, but only manages to partially stop it. A massive burst of fire and steam billow out from between the walls as Daedalus dusts his hands with an armored clanking. "If he lives, does that count as a spare?" Demo: Ehh, let's hope it's not an if...anyway, it looks like Bandit's down both his guys. Hope you've got more than fire up your...uhh, armor. Daedalus: I've got... something, alright. Hey Bandit, any last words before I make you regret ever crossing us? Bandit: Congratulations! You...beat yourself up. I'm astounded, really. Just...absolutely shaking in my boots.

Bandit rolls their eyes as they pour themself another drink. "...Now that you're done warming up, you think you can bring the heat?" Daedalus: Oh buddy, you have no idea.

He takes a deep breath as his hands begin to crackle with a strange dark blue flame that sparks with brilliant motes of white light. He brings them together and then pulls them apart with what seems to be a considerable amount of resistance. As his hands separate, shimmering missiles of light shoot out from a thread of flames connected between his hands and whip across the room at blinding speed toward Bandit. As the flames approach, the panels of Bandit's room flip over to make the room one gigantic mirror. Grinning slowly, Bandit takes one more sip of their drink before leaning back in their seat again. "Oh, honey, you forgot about an ace up the sleeve, huh?"

Two massive, clawed arms covered in black scales erupt from both of the side walls, and a pair of large, slitted, red, reptilian eyes glare from the back wall as the room begins to fill with a dark smoke. Jay's barrier burns out finally as Demo slowly lowers her sandstone wall in surprise, revealing that the room is being assaulted by a large, serpentine dragon with 5 more heads looking out behind the first a little ways away.

"It's no cerberus, but it'll do. Get through this, and I'm all yours." After a second or two passes, a muffled tongue click echoes inside Daedalus' helmet. "Alright, that might be a problem."

we Bayonetta now

Azreldeh: ...I can try to lure its faces into the room, but if they're too big, you won't be able to do much...

Echo: Who cares about size, just do it!! If you can even fit half of its face in, we can just shoot it through its eye!

Azreldeh: You've got a point...alright, I'll get its attention, you just...don't get crushed, stabbed, or eaten?

Jumping through the mirrored walls, Azreldeh starts trying to get the attention of the other four heads, leaving the initial one to keep its attention on the contents of the room. The dragon itself grips the edges of the room, slamming its face in through the ceiling as it snaps its fangs at the group. Daedalus jumps back as the dragon's head breaks into the room, still maintaining the string of flame in between his hands. He bends it slightly and then releases the connection, causing the thread to solidify into the shape of a bow. He snags the new weapon out of the air and pulls back on the string, causing an arrow of blue flames to appear along it, already poised to strike. He quickly tries to aim for the dragon's eye and looses his first shot. The arrow pierces the unwitting dragon, and it recoils backwards, screeching as it does so before toppling over, leaving 4 heads behind. Noticing an absence at the attraction, a pair of the heads attempt to reach the room, but bump into each other in their eagerness. Taking advantage of their daze, a third head shoves its face into the room, squinting eagerly as it sizes up the situation. Daedalus: Oh good, it's a stupid dragon! Silver linings, am I right?

He wastes no time in knocking another arrow and loosing it at the new head. This head too falls prey to Daedalus' arrows. Recovering from the impact first, the head to the right reaches into the room, snapping its jaws only, not allowing the rest of its face much entry. Daedalus: Dammit, I don't think arrows are gonna do much against teeth. Any other bright ideas? Demo: Hammer em out! Then just...shoot it through the neck? You'll probably need a stronger shot to pierce all the way through... Daedalus: See if you can do anything about the teeth, then. This is gonna take a second.

Daedalus kneels down on one knee and begins drawing another arrow, although this time he pulls back even further, causing the arrow to begin increasing in size and intensity. Building up her sand, Demo waits for the dragon to open its mouth before rushing it forth, shifting it into an anchor that she quickly yanks back towards herself. Between the speed and force of the anchor, a large section of the dragon's teeth are destroyed as the anchor pulls back through, causing it to cry out in pain as its body recklessly jostles the room in its grip. Nervously, Echo and Jay keep Collin and the IT anchored in place, preventing them from sliding towards the mirrors. As the dragon opens its mouth again, Daedalus gives one final tug on the bow string, turning his arrow into what could practically be considered a lance. He releases the shot with a loud boom as the projectile hurtles across the room at an unreasonable speed given its sheer size. This arrow not only pierces the dragon, but beheads it, leaving only 2 heads left. Catching on to its sudden lack of heads, the dragon cuts its losses and abandons the scuffle, jostling the room one last time before making its leave. A bit confused, Azreldeh makes her way back for the room only to hear the dragon stop in its tracks a ways away from the room. Turning to look, she can see the two remaining heads charging up some sort of elemental shots. Frantically, Azreldeh hurries back into the room.

"I don't think distraction's gonna do much here...!! I'm gonna have to pull you through!!" Daedalus: See, I was hoping you weren't gonna say that.

Despite his complaint, he quickly hurries over to Azreldeh. As Azreldeh picks up Daedalus and flies back through the mirrors with him, Bandit flips the panels back around, leaving Echo; Collin; Jay; and Demo behind with the three reflections and Bandit. Stunned, Demo immediately lashes out at Bandit.

"T-turn those back!! Bring them--!!!"

Bandit: What, did you seriously think I was gonna let you kill me like that?! Come on! You shouldn't place all your bets on one horse! If you want to stop me, do it yourself! Or...can you? Collin: You son of a bitch, you're not gonna get rid of them that easily, you know! Bandit: And what would they do? Azreldeh turned these mirrors into the doors to my dimension; but none of the mirrors on your ship are! And your twin, he can't make portals, can he? If he could, he didn't, and he wouldn't have anywhere to place a second one. And you can't make a gate to them either...! And if you kill me, well, he doesn't belong in that dimension, and his reflection is right here! Where would he go, I wonder...? Hahahaha....you really just don't know what you're up against.

alienrabitt: ...Turn the panels around.

Bandit: Now? No chance. You still need to make me a dimension.

alienrabitt: Turn them around, or I'll kill you.

Bandit: You couldn't. You don't have it in you. You can't do anything without your human, and he's totally powerless, so that makes you powerless, doesn't--?

Without warning, one of Jay's spears is suddenly protruding from the side of the couch beside Bandit.

alienrabitt: ...I'll count to 10. Collin: J-Jay, what're you doing? alienrabitt: ...One.

Bandit: ...If you kill me now, then that twin could die in there. Is that what you want?

alienrabitt: ...Two...

Demo: Jay, don't do this. I want this guy gone as bad as you do, but if Daedalus could die, then...!

alienrabitt: ...Three... Collin: Jay, just hang on a second! It's not worth the risk! alienrabitt: ...Four...

Bandit: Fine! Fine! I'll turn them around, fine...

Bandit flips the panels on the wall behind the IT. Jay does not stop glaring him down.

alienrabitt: ...Five... Collin: Jay, he flipped the panels! What are you doing? alienrabitt: ...Six...

is this even Jay?

Bandit nervously flips the remainder of the panels, revealing the rest of the surrounding area. Azreldeh continues to carry Daedalus off in the distance, and the remaining dragon heads have ceased their fire after losing sight of their initial prey. Collin: Wait, where are they going...? Echo: I think they were waiting for the room to show up again...but so was the dragon. I'm pretty sure it recognizes the guy in armor that blasted three of its heads off... Collin: Shit, how do we get their attention? They can't hear us from here, right? Echo: They can't, and we can't pass through these mirrors...

Demo: Too bad we can't shove one of these eggheads through to shout at them...oh, wait, we can.

Striding across the room, Demo lifts Jay's reflection up by the shirt. "Right, so I don't care what you say, but say it loud and clearly; and if Bandit decides to flip the panels again, they're gonna be working with some seriously damaged goods, alright?"

Before the shadow can protest, Demo shoves their torso out the wall, leaving them dangling between dimensions. Collin: That looks... uncomfortable. Demo: Yeah, well, Bandit's gonna look a lot worse regardless of what state these walls are in, so if everybody could just shut the fuck up and behave until the demon brings my boyfriend back, that would be peachy.

Turning around to see the flailing reflection shouting, Azreldeh hurries back towards the room, setting Daedalus down as she enters. "I...guess that's one way of getting our attention..." Daedalus: I'm getting real sick of your bullshit tricks, Bandit! Was that whole thing just to piss me off? Because it's fuckin' working, I can tell you that much. Bandit: Well, it kept you away, didn't it?

Pulling Jay's reflection back into the room, Demo rolls her eyes. "Whatever; I don't care who skewers the kebab, just take this fucking trash out already." Bringing his hands together once more, Daedalus pulls them apart to forge a shimmering spear of blue and white flames. He snatches it out of the air and gives it a small spin before moving into a throwing stance. "I'd give you a chance to say some last words, but honestly? Fuck that."

Daedalus hurls the spear toward Bandit, and the weapon almost seems to kick off with tremendous speed a moment after his throw, as if propelled by a secondary force. The force of the spear rips the couch Bandit was lying on clear in two, and absolutely decimates the back wall, sending half of Bandit crashing into one of the showrooms of the casino, and sending most of the staff and patrons fleeing the scene. The three reflections remaining topside are engulfed in clouds of reddish, purple smoke filled with dull embers, only for the clouds to ignite with a flash of brilliant light, then subside, leaving the trio helpless and alone, yet not entirely powerless; the curse of the mirror severing their counterparts influences entirely, allowing them separation at long last. Daedalus: ... There. Fucking hell, what a mess. Azreldeh: Maybe later; we should, uhh...probably leave now.

Demo: ...What about these three? We leaving them too?

alienrabitt: ...Why would we even risk bringing them? All three of them tried to kill us; and you can't just blame it on the mirror. They're bad people, and they aren't the type that'll get better...

Echo: That's...I can't speak for Collin's reflection, but the other two...

alienrabitt: ...Don't bother. We don't need any more of us, especially not people that are actually us...

Azreldeh: Don't you think it'd be a bad idea to leave a criminal with your face running around in a universe where you're known as heroes?

alienrabitt: ...If he won't get up, then make sure he can't. Then we won't have that problem. Collin: Jay, what has gotten into you? I've never heard you talk like this. alienrabitt: Some sense, apparently. I've been pretty slow on the uptake, I'll admit, but this really did just bring the picture together. Now deal with the problem so we can go home. Daedalus: Deal with what problem? I just cleaved Bandit in half, or did you miss that whole bit? alienrabitt: Your reflections are lying on the floor. If we leave them behind, you'll be exiled from a lot more than just Earth; or do you want to be a shut in? Collin: Jay, the curse is gone. If they're not tied to us anymore, what does it matter where they are? alienrabitt: It doesn't matter where they are; they still look like us; if they get up and start causing trouble, they can do it in our name, they can kill people in our names, then the blood is on our hands! If you want to be blamed for murder, then just kill people for yourself like Daedalus did!!

Instantaneously, Demo lifts Jay up off the floor, slamming him against the wall.

"Shut your mouth!! What the hell has gotten into you?! I know that son of a bitch didn't grab your oracle again, so why the hell are you talking like this?!"

alienrabitt: Bandit didn't need to grab my oracle. I've always been like this. I just tried not to show it. You wouldn't even know; you don't even want to know me. I can see it in your eyes, every time we talk, every time something goes wrong, you're all absolutely sick of us; what the hell would you know about what we're fighting for?! What the hell do you know about either of us?! You don't even know who I am!! Collin: J-Jay, what're you talking about? Or is this... not Jay? alienrabitt: ...Of course it's me. I'm the only one who would care about this. The kid doesn't even know what I'm doing right now. She doesn't need to. You never should've woken her up to begin with; you weren't ready for the consequences. Collin: What do you mean? W-Why are you talking like this? alienrabitt: You barely spent any time with those gods, so I couldn't expect you to understand what it's like to have someone so close to you for so long. Things mix together; things just...suffocate you. We made bad decisions out of desperation; we bound ourselves to your soul; we got you hurt; we nearly got killed so many times...but I'm done with that. I'm done playing games. I won't let anybody hurt me again; and you people are no exception. So get your hands off me, and clean up your mess. We're going home. Daedalus: What, you wanna be the pissy one now? News flash, jackass, everyone's put themselves on the line for one reason or another here. You wanna start getting uppity with everyone now? Letting out a sigh, Jay grabs Demo by the shoulders, the cracks in his injured arm flashing red as his and Demo's positions rotate abruptly, Demo suddenly being held upside down, yet pointing towards the ceiling as Jay pins her against the wall momentarily if only to get a better grip. Tossing her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, his arm returns to its normal color as he exhales a burst of yellow magic, resting his gaze coldly on Daedalus. "I wish I could've done it sooner. Sorry to disappoint you all." Daedalus: W-What the fuck was that?! What did you just do? alienrabitt: I did what she did. It's part of a hermes bag of tricks; our whole thing is diversions and illusions, you didn't think mimicry was a part of that? She can break reality; so I took it from her for a minute. Just for a minute, it's not like she did it normally anyway, but it doesn't matter now that we're not touching. Other than that, it's just a throw. You know all about throwing people around, don't you? Daedalus: You cheeky goddamn son of a bitch!

Daedalus charges Jay and swings a right hook straight for his face. Jay stands there and takes the blow, staggering backwards for a second before exhaling a little more magic. Straightening out, he turns his gaze back to Daedalus. "Are you done with your little tantrum? We can't wait all day..."

The flames in Daedalus' armor roar furiously as he winds up to summon another weapon, but something seems to catch him just before he finishes. His breathing runs ragged as he turns back and carefully picks up Demo off the floor. "You are going to pay for this..." alienrabitt: ...I didn't even do anything wrong, but feel free to get mad. That's what you do, after all. Daedalus: .... Out of one fire and into another. Nice boyfriend you got there, bro.

Daedalus steps over to the IT and throws the door open, storming inside without waiting for a response.

Collin, meanwhile, looks as though his entire world has completely inverted in an instant. His throat moves as if he wants to say something, but he can't seem to force any words back up. Echo: ...Look, Azreldeh and I will deal with all...this; you just...go back to the IT. We're from the mirror too, after all, so just...let us handle the doubles, and you two handle...that...

Jay pauses for a minute to mull over the decision, then gives a soft nod as he turns around and takes his leave. Collin finally manages to choke something out, just barely above a whisper. "... What is happening?" Azreldeh: ...My guess is some sort of kleivenn business; but Karumet's still in the field somewhere...

Echo: Why do you always look to other people for help? Your ship can make literally anything, just...ask for a book or something. Collin: I... don't know if it can do that... Azreldeh: Why not? It made an entire movie about everything you guys did before Maya showed up... Collin: I... I don't know, okay?! Echo: ...Give the guy some space for once, will you? ...Help me move the other two.

Reluctantly, Azreldeh mumbles "Right," before leaving Collin so that she can address the situation at hand. A minute or so passes as he tries to process anything that just happened in the last few minutes. Finally, Collin quietly turns and heads back inside the IT after the others.