#are they watching the big game... what's afoot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obxsummer · 2 years ago

Text

Home Sweet Home // Ghost of You

summary below the cut to avoid spoilers for s3 ep3-4

navigation -- series masterlist

summary: y/n's quick to remember why she didn't miss her dad, john b can't shoot whiskey, jj has a small family reunion, and the twinkie's back baby.

warnings: mentions of depression, shitty parenting (aka big john), the usual angst

It didn’t take long for Singh’s men to catch onto your location. Your dad was quick to direct you and John B out of the church, the three of you heading towards the marina in hopes that the Pogues would still be there with the boat.

Once your initial run calmed down, John B wanted answers. “Okay, Dad. Start talking. So you’ve been alive this whole time and didn’t think to call?”

“What you think I didn’t want to? It killed me. It would’ve put you two in danger.”

You scoffed, arms crossed over your chest as you followed behind the duo. “Yeah, well, we were in danger the entire time you were gone.”

Your dad stopped walking and turned to you and your brother. “Alright, look. We’re here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere. I just had to vanish for my safety. And for yours. It wasn’t my first choice. You gotta know that. Now, let’s go find your friends.”

The way your dad aimed his concern more towards John B pulled at your heart. Your whole life, all you wanted was for your dad to pay attention to you, to love you the way he loved your brother. You were stupid to think that would’ve changed during his disappearance.

John B glanced at you and instantly noticed the expression on your face. You shook your head at him, refusing to get into an argument about this kind of thing right now. Shoes stomping in the grass, you followed silently behind them. Part of you was glad you knew he was alive, but now, you wished you would’ve stayed with JJ to spare yourself of this feeling.

Eventually, the three of you made it to the marina only to see the Pogues had been chased off by Singh.

“Okay, plan b. We take my boat. It’s back at the place. We gotta pick something up there anyway,” Your dad said.

“Hang on, I gotta call them,” John B clicked around on the phone before putting it to his ear. You took a seat on the ground and placed your head in your hands while your brother told the Pogues to meet him back in Kildare. You wished more than anything that they could’ve stayed, but you didn’t blame them for looking out for their own safety.

“We gotta go.”

The walk wasn’t horrible for the three of you to locate where your father had been staying, instantly crowding into the small, run-down house.

“Here it is. The Spider Hole. It ain’t much, but it ain’t a bad place to lay low.”

You watched him run around rapidly, refusing to move in any further. “Spider hole. Good name.”

John B busied himself with investigating the kitchen table and the papers spread across it. “Still hunting, huh, Pop?”

“I’m breathing, I’m hunting, man. What can I say?” Your dad said as he stumbled back into the kitchen area. “This time I’m putting it all together, kids. Getting close, I can feel it. Onto something big.”

John B looked over at you for a moment before continuing, “I uh… I heard you died at the Shoals, Dad?”

“Yeah, well. Somebody died out there. It wasn’t me.” You watched as your father dug through a cabinet before grabbing a loaded gun off the kitchen shelf. “Look, just gotta go on a little retrieval mission, then we can split.”

“Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa. Dad, wait.” The sight of a loaded weapon was enough to freak you out. “Retrieval mission? A gun? What- No! What are we doing? I didn’t sign up for this.”

Your dad spun around and placed his hands on your shoulders a little too harshly for your comfort. “The game is afoot. Okay, kid? We gotta go. Right now. And this time it’s for the mother lode, the big kahuna, all the marbles. Alright?”

You looked up at the ceiling as your dad wrapped you into an unpleasant hug as if it would change your mind.

“Come here. It’s good to see you. It is. But if we don’t move out, like, now, the game is gonna end early. It ain’t just Singh that’s after us.” He eventually let you go to finish collecting various items from around the rotting house. “I got mixed up with Limbrey and a whole lot of things.”

“Limbrey?” Your brother caught the name as you did, both of you hating the idea of owing that woman jack-shit. “Like Carla Limbrey?”

“Yeah, how do you think we got a boat?” Your dad snapped back as he walked towards the door as your brother complained. “She helped me out a bit. It’s logistics, etc., but now that I found you, I’m gonna owe her something. Better to pay later than now.”

He walked out, yelling for the two of you to follow over his shoulder. You shared a look with John B, both of you clearly unpleased at how this was going before you gave up and followed regardless. A small lifeboat rested by the shore that would take you over to the larger boat. You were quick to climb out, tying the lifeboat to the larger vessel before ducking inside to get some space.

You could vaguely hear the excited chatter from your brother and father, opting to ignore it instead of looking. You refused to cry about this, not right here where they could see. It felt silly to be so hurt over the past few hours, but it was like this for years before. How could it happen all over again?

“You wanna tell me what’s going on with your sister?” Your dad’s voice was muffled by the glass and structures separating you but it felt like you could hear him loud and clear.

You could practically feel John B’s eyes on you as you sat quietly. “She’s… she’s been through hell, Dad. Like through shit and back, you wouldn’t believe. It’s been really hard, but um…”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you haven’t gone through anything short, even goin’ in the ringer for it. That ain’t exactly a walk in the park, boy.”

The first tear was warm on your cheek as the band holding everything together finally snapped. You refused to put up with this belittlement, a competition between you and your own damn brother, over who had more trauma.

John B watched your facade crumble, his heart clenching at the sight. He was already angry with the way you were being treated by your father of all people, but this was getting out of hand. “God, Dad. Can you maybe not be an asshole to her for an hour?”

Without waiting for a response, John B opened the door to the cabin area you were sitting in. You tried not to completely lose it when he embraced you, letting out a shaky breath as tears fell. This felt so pathetic.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” He whispered, feeling you shake with sobs when you couldn’t hold it anymore. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.”

Your fingers held John B’s arms that were wrapped around your shoulders, tucking your cheek into his elbow. Grateful didn’t describe how much you appreciated John B, for standing up to the person who meant so much to him. You took a deep breath and hoped the tears would slowly come to a stop eventually. “You know he means every word, JB. Always has.”

John B stayed with you the rest of the relatively short boat ride, leaving your dad to entertain himself as a light form of punishment, not that he would notice. It was getting easier for John B to read you again, the way he used to as kids. He hoped that was a good sign, that maybe you were both healing together. He knew JJ was the only person on your mind right now, that you wanted his best friend more than anything. Shit, John B would love to be with Sarah right now, and he kept reminding himself that you would all be back together here soon regardless.

“What’s the plan, Pops?” John B guided you out of the cabin where your dad was tying the boat to the dock.

“Told you, Bird. Just a little pit stop to get that thing I was telling you about. Then goodbye, Bridgetown. Come on. Back me up.”

“Alright, let’s make this quick.” John B let you go first, this time opting to stay with you while your dad pulled ahead. The three of you made your way into an old antique shop. The walls were covered in various frames, pedestals decorated with figurines and statues.

Another voice echoed throughout the house as you barely turned the corner so your dad could give the man in the other room a slight nod. You took the time to observe your surroundings. The building was gorgeous and gave the best old-time feel. You could tell this collection had taken a while to get this large, so clearly the individual had a good eye somewhere.

“Dad, what are we doing here?” John B asked after the man in the other room said he had an appointment with your father.

“Just got to pick something up. Only take a minute,” Your dad dismissed your brother and instead turned his attention to the man entering the room. “RJ.”

“John.” RJ returned the small nod and beckoned your group into the small office. “Please come.”

RJ stood by the large desk in the room, his face unreadable as he acknowledged your dad. “So, what are you doing here, John? What do you want?”

The sound of the gun cocking elicted a noise of protest lost in your throat. Why was everyone so quick to pull guns around here? John B grabbed the strap of the silk tank top you were still wearing and tugged you back away from the two men.

“Sorry for the strong arm, RJ, but we’re pressed for time. I can’t get bogged down in a protracted negotiation.”

RJ didn’t seem phased by your dad’s actions and turned to the safe behind him to start drilling a code in. “Really? You pull a gun on me? Your partner who saved your life?”

“If you knew what happened with my last partner, you wouldn’t hold it against me,” Your dad replied. He was practically foaming at the mouth to get whatever RJ had in that safe.

“Armed robbery?” John B whispered from next to you, surprised that your father would take it to these lengths. You, however, knew this was right up his alley.

Big John scoffed. “It’s not robbery. The piece is mine, ain’t that right, RJ?”

The safe clicked unlocked and RJ swung the door open to retrieve whatever it is that you came for. “I think an impartial judge would say the ownership is debatable.” He set a large stone wrapped in a towel down on the table.

“Oh, great.” John B’s sarcasm wasn’t missed by you.

“As you can see, I kept my part of the bargain, partner. Here it is safe and sound. Just like I promised.”

Your dad was quick to unravel the item wrapped in the towel before holding it out towards you and John B. “Here, kids. Take a look at this. The Signpost of Orinoco. Next stop, El Dorado.”

The stone had patterns carved into it, the top looking like the head of some sort. You weren’t really sure what you were looking at, but it seemed it was only half of the true object.

“Yeah, if you can find the other half and if you can decipher it, maybe.” RJ confirmed your suspicion. “And I’m going to want my cut. Don’t think I won’t come after you if I don’t get it.”

“If this thing works out, you’ll never have to sell a knockoff God of Fire and War again.”

“Arjun! Are you here?”

The new voice to the conversation was a little too familiar for you liking. You turned to John B with wide eyes as RJ excused himself from the room and told you not to move.

“John B, we need to go,” You kept your voice low as you grabbed onto your brother’s shirt sleeve. “That’s Singh, and I don’t know about you, but I am not going with-”

“Shh.” John B placed his hands on your shoulders as RJ called Singh’s name in the other room, confirming your thoughts. “Okay, we need to go. Right now.”

Your dad shoved the stone piece into your brother’s hands, directing the two of you towards the window in the room. John B placed the piece down on a wooden pedestal before boosting you up to unlatch the window. You grabbed the wiring off, your dad cursing at you for the noise, before you were pushed up and crawled out as quietly as possible.

“Shit!” You slipped into the wooden boxes and bags of garbage below the window ungracefully, managing to move just seconds before your brother came tumbling out behind you. Stumbling to your feet, you brushed imaginary dirt from your clothing and watched as your dad climbed out the window.

“Where’s the piece?” Your dad was practically glaring at you as if you were the one at fault.

You moved your hand toward the window. “John B set it down so we could get the window open! We thought you had it.”

“No, no, no, no,” John B cursed as your dad threw himself back into the window to retrieve the stone piece. It took a shaky minute before he leaned back out with the towel barely in grasp. “Come on, we gotta go.”

You ducked as a gun fired nearby, the three of you breaking into a sprint to get as far away as you could. The marina was thankfully close so you didn’t have to go very far. John B was quick to untie everything while you jumped on, taking the piece from your dad so he could start the boat.

You looked back to see ATVs rush up to the dockside just after you had pushed off, Singh’s men no doubt watching your every move. You let out a deep sigh once they were out of view, your racing heart finally getting the chance to calm down. This nonstop treasure hunting was getting the best out of you and for once, you just wished you could sit at home and do nothing for weeks on end.

After getting settled on a course hopefully back to OBX, your dad was rushing to take the piece from your possession and hide it somewhere on the boat. You couldn’t care less at that point and settled down at the small table in hopes to keep the calm until you got back to the Chateau.

Soon enough, John B joined you and your dad took the seat across from him, slamming a bottle of whiskey down on the table. You let out a breath, definitely not in the mood for their antics but not having the energy to tell them no.

Your dad surprisingly grabbed three shot glasses and filled them before sliding one to you and John B each. “To life, living, and the pursuit of treasure.”

You were quick to throw your drink back, enjoying the burn it left in your throat but remaining stoic as you did. Your dad laughed as John B winced. “Never thought I’d see the day where my daughter could take a drink better than her brother. How times have changed.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled your feet up to rest on the chair with you. If only that stupid ass phone had service and you could call JJ, you would feel a lot better.

“So, what’s the deal with this whole big kahuna thing?” John B asked as he slid his glass back to the middle of the table. “I mean, how’d you ended up on Barbados?”

“Well, same way you did and for the same reason too. The treasure. And Carlos Singh. I was marooned out on the Shoals for what felt like months, living on seaweed and sweat and rainwater, and fixed myself up to be crab food. Thought I was a goner. Singh must’ve tracked my boat, then his men showed up. He must’ve known I was onto something because they found me. At first, I thought I was being rescued, turns out it was less of a rescue mission, more of a captivity-type deal. I didn’t go without a fight. We left one of his men behind, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Next thing I know, I’m being shipped off to Barbados.

“Singh’s place. They locked me up in some audacious estate surrounded by cane fields and armed guards. I meet this particular little man, Singh. He wants to cuta deal with me, he wants me to tell him everything I know in exchange for him keeping me alive. It didn’t take long before I caught on to the game. So as soon as I had the chance I took it. Got a little roughed up along the way, but I made it out. And not empty handed. And here I am, back with my kids.”

You knew all too well your dad’s experience with Singh, ironic that both of yours were so similar. A small envelope of silence took over before you tapped John B’s shoulder. “Can I have the phone?”

Your brother didn’t hesitate to dig it out of his pocket and hand it over. He knew that you were smart enough to guess it wouldn’t work, but he didn’t blame you for wanting to try. You were quick to unlock the device and go to messages, the most recent one the conversation with the phone the other Pogues had.

J? You there?

You held your breath, hoping that it would go through even if you were stuck this far out in the ocean. A sigh left you when the Message Not Delivered popped up with a red exclamation point. Well, at least you tried.

“Enough about me. I want to hear about you two,” Your dad spoke up again as he poured more liquor into the glasses in front of you. “Who you sweet on these days, huh?”

You snorted at the way he phrased his sentence, pulling the attention on you. “Sorry, sorry. Just didn’t expect that to be your first question, that’s all.”

Your dad sat back in his chair and looked at you. “I know there must be someone, especially if you’re that desperate to message them from a stolen phone.”

You tucked the phone into your lap and let your arms rest on your knees. “I mean, yeah. There’s been a lot that happened, obviously. For both of us.”

“I’m married, Dad.”

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way John B just blurted the news. As much as you loved Sarah’s relationship with your brother, it felt weird to hear them talk about it in that way, no matter how much you heard it.

“You’re joking, right?” Your dad chuckled, his expression dropping when John B disagreed. “What is she pregnant?”

“No, no. God, no. No,” John B was quick to deny that suspicion. “I haven’t really had time for the extracurricular activities.”

“Oh, my God!” You groaned. “Can we maybe not discuss that part of it?” John B hid a smile, his hand smacking your leg as he joked with you. If someone would’ve told you a week ago that you’d be listening to your brother deny his sex life to your dad, you would’ve laughed in their face.

“You’re a little young, aren’t you?”

Your brother shrugged. “I mean, you said it best. If it’s right, it’s right.”

“Do I know her? Uh, who is she?” Big John asked.

You glanced at John B, wondering how he was going to talk his way out of this one. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, you know her. Um…” He took a moment to take the shot in front of him, obviously needing it for the conversation ahead. “It’s Sarah. Cameron.”

A tense silence followed his revelation, your dad taking off his glasses to look at your brother. “Ward’s daughter? The queen of Kildare.”

“Yeah.”

“You just can’t do things the easy way, can you?” Your dad shot back. You glanced between him and John B, hating the fact that your father thought he had an opinion on what the two of you did and who you did it with, after everything he’d put you through.

“Are you mad?” John B sounded scared to hear the answer.

Your dad crossed his arms and leaned against the table. “That you went for the big prize? Nah. How could I be mad at that?” He poured your brother another shot before raising their glasses together and drinking the contents. “And what about you, Baby Bird? I got another Kook with you, too?”

You shook your head and tucked your arms in around yourself. “No, Dad. No Kooks for me. Promise.” You felt the phone suddenly vibrate in your lap, all of your attention directly going to it. A new message notification flashed back at you. “It’s JJ.”

“Maybank?”

You ignored your dad’s shocked tone and opened the phone to see the message that had come through. Right here babe. You okay? A sigh of relief expelled the tension from your body knowing that he was still there, however far away.

“Hey, talk to me.”

You looked back up at your father to see his puzzled expression directed at you. “Yes, Maybank.”

He chuckled, that you saw coming. “Well, boy was always looking out for you as kids. Can’t say I’m surprised about that one.”

The conversation about your love lives died there, John B taking the time to fill in the odds and ends. He left out the parts of the story that were yours to tell, not that you thought you’d ever share them with your dad, but you appreciated that he gave you that option.

The rest of your boat ride passed uneventfully with you sending scattered texts to JJ while your dad and John B conversed with the whiskey bottle. Before you knew it, the sun was coming up and the familiar OBX breeze was blowing across your skin. You were so excited to get the hell out of here and back into your bed.

“I gotta admit, it’s good to be back.”

For once, you agreed with your dad’s words as you finished helping John B tie the boat down. The two of you stood under the covered dock, watching as your dad cheered and ran towards the house.

You caught your brother looking out over the horizon. “You okay?”

He nodded, redirecting his attention to you. “Just didn’t think this would happen again, you know? That we’d all be together.”

You didn’t know what to say in return, just opting to nod back to him before starting up the path to the Chateau. There was nothing more on your mind than to find JJ and your friends. You hoped they were back, safe and sound.

While your brother and dad shared a moment by John B’s homemade headstone, you walked back into your home for the first time in God knows how long. Flicking the lightswitch, you sighed when nothing happened, figuring the power shut off after the bills lingering for weeks to months. Using the flashlight on the phone, you tried to navigate as best as possible into your room.

As comfy as the silk pajamas were that you’d been wearing, one of JJ’s oversized t-shirts was much more your style as you grabbed it from your drawer. The amount of your friends’ clothing that was scattered around your house was comedic at this point. You managed to find a pair of shorts to slide on before making your way back to the porch where your dad and brother were entering.

You occupied yourself reorganizing the bits of the Chateau that had gotten mixed up in the chaos before you guys all left. John B helped a bit where he could while your dad busied himself in his destroyed office after bitching about that too.

The house began to cool off as the sun went in, you and John B settling on opposite ends of the porch couch while your dad crashed on the inside pullout. Your rooms were way too hot to do anything else since there wasn’t any air circulation.

“I don’t know why in the hell you would wanna sleep on the porch couch when it’s so much cooler in here,” Your dad groaned as he settled into the worn cushions.

You didn’t have the energy to answer him, John B replying back, “Yeah, it’s hot tonight.”

“Especially with no electricity,” Your dad continued to complain, “You didn’t think to pay the bill?”

“It’s not like we were stranded on a deserted island for a month or anything,” You mumbled back, eyes closing as you curled into the pillow you were holding.

“Yeah, I guess that’s an excuse.”

A moment of silence followed, the background being filled by the nearby insects that were slowly but surely soothing you to sleep. These were your favorite kinds of nights, especially when you were a kid. You, John B, and JJ would sit in the hammock for hours to see who could catch the most lightning bugs until you eventually ended up in a sleeping cuddle puddle.

“Hey, you… you kids know where that diary is, right?”

The thought of Singh following you here in search of the diary sent a chill down your spine. You and Rafe skimmed out under his nose. No doubt he’d be pissed that he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Well, we have a copy. And it’s in the Twinkie, which is probably in the impound lot with the police. Gotta figure that one out,” Your brother explained, shifting where his feet dug into your back.

You fell asleep shortly later, the warm air and the sounds of home comforting enough to lull you. There was no way to tell how much time had passed when you woke up again, this time with the sun creeping up and your brother absolutely nailing you in the side with his knee.

“Ow, fuck, John B,” You groaned as you tried to shift out of his way before getting kicked again. You sat up to shove him only to watch as he flinched again, completely sound asleep. “John B, wake up.”

You sat up, sparing a quick glance to see your dad missing form the inside couch, to no surprise. Attention shifting to your brother, you shook his arm slightly. “Wake up.”

Your efforts were to no avail. Suddenly, the screen door creaked open making you jump. To your surprise, an exhausted Sarah Cameron stepped in, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. You hopped off the couch in a second, bringing her into a tight hug. “Oh, God. Hi.”

“Hi,” She squeezed you tightly before her gaze moved to where your brother was still shifting on the couch. “Everything okay?”

You nodded and let go of her to take a step back. “I think he’s having a nightmare.”

She put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “I got him. Go clean up.”

You took one last glance at your brother before doing what she said. Making a beeline for the bathroom, you thanked your previous self for paying the water bill ahead so you at least had a way to shower and brush your teeth. Granted, it was freezing, but it was better than nothing.

Clean clothes felt so much better than you expected. Your stomach grumbled, begging for some kind of meal, to which you wished you had an answer.

You stepped back into the kitchen the moment John B started yelling out for your dad. You glanced over at the window to see them looking at the empty pull out and then over to you. Your brother got to his feet a moment later, walking outside to look for your father.

You rejoined Sarah on the couch. “How was your trip back?”

She shrugged, leaning her elbow against the back of the couch to support herself. “Uneventful. Kiara and I talked most of the time, JJ drove, and Pope and Cleo took turns with him. Stole some food, and that was about it.” Sarah looked over at you, seemingly reading your thoughts. “JJ’s coming back. Said he would drop them off and be here.”

You gave her a grateful smile as John B stomped back inside. “I swear he was just here.”

You shook your head at his worried nature. “It’s Dad, John B. I don’t know why you’re surprised he’s not here.”

Sarah glanced between the two of you, hoping that you were actually right about your father returning. Based on your brother’s chaotic nature, she was almost worried he had truly lost it, but your calm response told her all she needed to know.

“Hell, I wouldn’t blame you for that either.” Your dad’s voiced echoed around the house at the perfect time. He climbed the stairs a moment later with his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Hello, Sarah.”

Sarah’s jaw practically dropped at the sight before her as she walked forward to give your dad a hug as he beckoned her in. “Come on Sarah. Or should I say Mrs. Routledge.”

Your rolled your eyes at his attempt at a joke as he welcomed her to the family. John B, on the other hand, was very unpleased. “Where the hell did you go?”

His question was left unanswered as Big John brought both of them in for a hug. You glanced away, eyes following the path of the dock. It felt like one of those cheesy scenes in every movie: your favorite person walking towards you with this glow behind them. You took off before anyone had a chance to ask what you were doing.

JJ’s smile was warm the second he caught sight of you. He paused in his approach, arms opening wide for you to leap into so he could catch you the way he always did. When it came to knowing you, loving you, JJ was the only one who did the best. “There she is, I gotcha.”

You pulled back, kissing his nose lightly as you took him in. “Hi.”

“Hi, pretty girl.” He returned your gesture, kissing your forehead before pulling you close to his chest again. “You okay?”

You nodded against him, fingers moving to the bottom of his shirt to sneak beneath, needing to feel his skin against yours. He was warm to the touch, your chilly fingers sending goosebumps across his body, but he stayed silent know that you both needed it.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Is that who I think it is?”

JJ visibly reacted to your dad’s voice calling out for him. He looked down at you in shock to see your knowing smile before you released him. He took off down the dock, colliding with your dad at full speed as they laughed. The sight brought a smile to your face, glad that your little Pogue family may actually have a chance at changing this path you’d been on.

Your boyfriend stepped back after a moment to tackle your brother next. The two playfully shoved each other, roughousing as you stepped off the wooden platform back into the grass. JJ didn’t hesitate to join you, arms pulling you back against his chest so he could keep you close.

“Oh shit, this is the best day ever.”

“Where’d Sarah go?” You accidentally spoke over JJ’s excitement, noticing the lack of your friend.

“Went back to Tannyhill to steal some clothes and maybe find a phone,” John B explained with a shrug. “Told her to be back around 6.”

Your dad suddenly dipped off without a word, leaving the three of you to look at him in confusion. You shook your head, dismissing his odd behavior as you turned to the boy behind you. “Did you go home?”

He winced at the question, his teeth biting at his lip for a moment before he stopped. “Yeah, big ole eviction notice on the door. Snuck in through the window but no electric or water so, you know how that goes.”

“Shit,” You sighed and tucked yourself against his chest again. “Sorry, Jayj.”

The sound of a car engine distracted your conversation as the three of you looked to see the Twinkie being pulled out of the forest line. John B moved first, shocked that this is actually where your dad had gone earlier without saying.

“Brought an old friend to see you,” Big John said as he hopped out of the van.

“Where’d you get this?” You asked as you and JJ came to a stop a few feet away from the vehicle.

“The impound lot, where do you think?”

John B moved closer to rest his hand on the front end. “Where do I think? Um, I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out why you didn’t say when Sarah was here.”

Your dad’s lack of response said everything. He didn’t trust Sarah the way you all had grown to. He didn’t know what she had been put through, all her family had done to her.

“Dad, seriously?” You chastised him as he gave you guys a knowing look. “She’s not her father.”

“Hey, this is supposed to be just the three of us,” He defended as he tossed his hands in the air like he didn’t just completely ignore JJ’s presence next to you.

John B groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Okay, well. Did you at least find the diary?”

“Yeah, I found the diary all right. It was a big pile of mush. The window was left down, it got rained on. You could’ve shut the window.”

JJ raised his hand next to you. “Yeah that was probably my bad. Sorry, Big John.”

John B looked away from your dad. “Okay, well, there were some complications. I wasn’t planning on being gone that long.”

Your dad was unamused by the so-called excuses and called for you and John B to get in the car. “We’ll be back later, JJ. Group catch-up, all of us.”

You hesitated for a moment, watching as John B grabbed a sticky pad and a pen out of the Twinkie glove box, prepared to go with your dad after. You, however, weren’t so sure. You glanced at JJ to see him looking right back at you, waiting for your decision.

“Um, Dad,” You spoke up as John B pressed the note against the side door. “I think I’m gonna sit this one out.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that your father didn’t blink an eye at your choice. “Fine by me, Y/N. We’ll do this ourselves and get you later.”

JJ’s hand grabbed your shoulder but you shrugged him off to catch up with John B before he climbed back in. “Whatever he does, whatever he makes you do, you better come back, you hear me?” You poked his chest sternly. “I’m serious, John B. I think he’s in a little too far to see clearly.”

Your brother nodded in agreement, sparing a quick glance over to the person in question. “I know, I will. Be careful, okay?”

You two shared a quick hug, JJ coming over to run through a handshake with your brother before you watched as the Twinkie pulled away. You let out a deep sigh once it disappeared from view. JJ was in front of you a moment later, his calloused hands on your cheeks. “You wanna tell me what the hell happened?”

You chuckled and grabbed his hand off your cheek to pull him towards the house. “Babe, do I have a story for you.”

tags: @strawberryfolks @jinxfirebolt18902 @lnnlove@itsmytimetoodream @dazzlingnights @ifilwtmfc @itsmytimetoodream @multiifandomhoe

navigation -- series masterlist

#obx3celebration #goy series #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #routledge!reader #outer banks x routledge!reader #outer banks season 3 #obx3 #obx x reader

494 notes · View notes

mysteriouslyjovialcolor · 2 months ago

Text

Mexico 2024

-I’m calm, I’m calm, I’m calm, I’m so calm

-I LIED, I AM NOT CALM

-Aaaaaaaah, okay let’s go (The race doesn’t even start until two minutes from now)

-Valterri holds the race record here as well? Asking once again why he’s in a Sauber

-Esteban from the pit lane? What happened there?

-Okay, okay, okay can’t think anymore, we’re starting

-Max!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Yuki???? Whaaaat??

-Carlos where are you going???

-Ohmygod Safety Car

-Alex out too!!

-Aaah so much chaos!!!!

-Oh that replay makes the crash looks so much worse then it looked before

-Oh wow, well done Checo. That was unexpected.

-“Unfortunately for Yuki Tsunodo, I don’t think he did anything wrong there” WHYYY

-“Sergio Perez is being investigated for a false start” I- I take whatever I said before back

-Cars weaving behind the safety car>>>

-I’m surprised Oscar hasn’t gained positions yet

-Franco has though!

-Ah Carlos!!

-The top three are so close together now!! Top four I think actually!!

-Oh god, not again with these two!

-Charles???? Ever the opportunist!!

-“Both Verstappen and Norris have handed this on a silver platter to Ferrari”

-10s penalty for Max

-Red Bull just catching Ls this week

-“10! That’s impressive!” This guy

-George and Lewis!

-Ferrari teammate drama incoming?

-Fernando Alonso retiring??? Oh his 400th race weekend?? So unfortunate

-“Keep it clean. You have a good place. Keep it clean” Oh we’re racing babyyy

-“Quite an impressive job the Haas team are doing” yessss!!

-Liam and Checo!! Oh I’m loving how much drama is happening here right now

-Wow Checo is really driving hard

-20s penalty. I will cry

-Oscar and Franco?!! Yessss! Omg this is so exciting!!

-Back to crying

-Yay Oscar! Mans just moves in silence

-So much crying. Why am I still watching?

-“This is turning into a nightmare weekend for Red Bull. A lot of it, no, in fact all of it, self-inflicted” Big sigh

-Hate when any of the Haas drivers pit and then they lose position and then sometimes they don’t regain position and then I’m sad

-Can’t afford to be more sad than this, need at least my midfielders to do well

-At least Max is back in the points. We can be somewhat happier.

-If you had told me that the multi-championship drivers (Lewis and Max) might be about to race each other I would think they’d be racing for top positions and not for p5 or p6

-Oh Charles potential undercut on Carlos? Him winning would cause so much drama, I feel it. (I secretly want it)

-“One more lap guys, come on, one more lap”

-So much pit stop strategy afoot

-I was distracted, how is Lawson p4??

-Not him still fighting Oscar

-“Mate think about pulling me out of this” I feel you Oscar (I actually don’t but I can empathize)

-Liam “cork in the bottle” Lawson!

-Yess Oscar!! Lewis too!! Double overtake!!

-Kinda expected there to be more of a fight between Max and Franco

-How has Max done a better recovery drive than Checo? What’s wrong with Checo’s car fr

-“I had a big misfire out of Turn 3” ???

-Nico back in points 🎶

-Aww Franco having car problems :/

-I guess the people are about to get what they want and Oscar is about to play the team game

-“McLaren not trying to use him to hold off Max Verstappen in any way shape or form” I’m so confused???

-Go Kevin Magnussen!!!

Ohmygodd Nico back up too!!

-Why do these two always run together?? It’s hilarious how evenly matched they look

-“Miserable Mexican Grand Prix for Sergio Perez” I feel for that guy, I really do

-“Taking away fastest lap” The things Daniel Ricciardo does to the sport

-“20s gap back to Russel” Mercedes?? Fight back??

-Franco and Oscar pt2! He’s so impressive, Franco

-“George, we are free to race here. Let’s give each other room”

-“There’s young Kimi Antonelli” He’s so tiny!

-Franco fast lap. I hope he gets to keep it this time.

-How is Lewis stuck behind George for so long?

-Aah no!! Nico lost a place :(

-Oh god Charles vs Lando incoming. I can’t watch this

-“We need your best driving now, let’s go” Aaaaaaaah

-Seriously, how is Lewis still stuck behind George?

-“In the olden days, they would’ve done something about this at Mercedes” Righttt

-Poor Franco, lost the fast lap again

-“This is not going to be the easiest fight in the world, up against Charles Leclerc”

-Aaaaaaaaaaah

-I’m actually going to cry

-OHMYGOD NO!!!

-That could’ve been so much worse tho, at least he got back in

-Haas is having such a good race, I’m so happy

-Have to acknowledge George’ defense…

-Finally!!!! Let’s go Lewis!!!

-If Carlos wins this race, it would be his second race with Lando coming 2nd (…I would have two pennies, which wouldn’t be a lot but it’s strange that it happened twice…)

-“Chasing down the man he started a bromance with” Carlando alive and kicking

-Liam Lawson fast lap lol

-“Only man to have won from pole position”

-Lol fastest lap contest

-“He’s not playing second fiddle to anyone is Carlos Sainz”

-Let’s go!!! He manifested this!!!! He got his one last win in Ferrari!!!!!

21 notes · View notes

hxney-lemcn · 1 year ago

Text

First Date — Young Justice! Riddler x gn! reader

summery: Eddie takes you out on a wonderful date! Arcade? Movie? Dinner? Who could ask for more?

tw: none

a/n: Based on this headcanon/fic by @finniestoncrane ! Go check it out if you haven't already!! Or their entire catalogue of riddler fics because they write him really well and they have an abundance of them. Also! Clematis means intelligence, red camellia's means passionate love, and baby's breath innocence/innocent love.

wc: 2.5k

Master List

It would have been nerve wracking if I hadn’t been waiting for this day for who knows how long. I checked myself in the mirror one last time before I heard a knock on the front door. Nodding to myself in the mirror, knowing if I spent any more time nitpicking at my appearance we’d never get anywhere. Taking in a deep breath, I opened the door to reveal my date for the day.

There stood Edward Nygma in all his glory. A sheepish grin rested on his face as he handed me a bouquet of flowers. It was a mix of clematis, red camellia’s, and baby’s breath. An odd combination, yet they also worked well together, and knowing Eddie, they held a deeper meaning that I’d have to look up later.

“Thank you Eddie!” I smiled, inhaling the sweet scent before ushering him in. I didn’t exactly have any vases, but an old bottle I found would have to do the trick. When I came back into the living room, I placed the flowers on the coffee table, watching Eddie take in the place. “Where are we heading to first?” I asked, coming to stand beside him, making him jump.

“O-oh! Right,” He nodded, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “I-it’s a…surprise?” Normally I’d tease, push a little to see if I could get the answer…but I know Eddie would bend right away and where’s the fun without a little surprise?

It wasn’t too long of a walk, and I was a bit surprised at the destination. Unsurprisingly, the arcade wasn’t too busy at 10:30 am. My smile couldn’t get any bigger when Eddie beat the high score of the pacman game, a triumphant grin revealing his cute little tooth gap.

“Oo! Let’s play this one!” I exclaimed, tugging Eddie over to a motorcycle race game.

“Okay,” He replied, just happy to see that you were enjoying yourself. With him. That he was making you beam that sweet smile.

The race was afoot. Choosing the bike we wanted, I couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across my face. I never felt so young again. The worries of daily life disappeared, and I could only focus on how sweet Eddie was.

“Oh my God, Eddie!” I exclaimed, trying to stop the laughter that threatened to bubble out as he laid sprawled out across the floor. The game beeped as I hopped off, crouching over Eddie as he sat up, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“I’m okay,” He laughed nervously, voice a little higher pitched than normal. “S-sorry, I always screw up…”

“Oh hush,” I batted his arm lightly. “Now c’mon, I think those kids wanna play next.”

He let out a squeak, face blushing bright red as we passed the two giggling children. It was fun to watch Eddie while he managed to get the jackpot every time, gaining an obscured amount of tickets. And when I tried my luck, he was only supportive when I never won it big.

“Let’s get something to eat,” I offered, pointing over to the ordering station.

“My treat!” He sputtered. “What do you want?”

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling a bit guilty at how much he’s been paying already.

“Th-this day is about you,” He exclaimed. “Anything you want, it's yours.” I felt my heart sputter. He was such a romantic, I wonder if he even realizes how attractive that makes him.

“It’s about us,” I corrected, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. His entire face blazed a bright red as he stuttered incomprehensibly. It was warming to know that I had such an effect on him, yet at the same time it was hard to show him affection if I didn’t want him to go brain dead at the simplest shows of affection. After he calmed down (barely), I told him what I wanted. He returned quickly, handing me what I asked for. Yet instead of us both getting a drink, he placed a slushie between us, two straws placed in it for good measure. I honestly didn’t think he had it in him, but I’ll give him kudos for the gesture.

Once we finished our snack, he pulled me by the hand over to a stacker game. The prize being 1,000 tickets. He let me try first, cheering me on as I got higher and higher on the game. I felt adrenaline pulse through me as I neared the win line, and the platform got smaller.

“Gah!” I groaned as I missed by a sliver. “I was so close!”

“You did really well!” Eddie cheered. “It only shows how your hand to eye coordination is better than the common man.”

Even though it read that I earned 500 tickets, I couldn’t be too angry at how Eddie always managed to praise me in his unusual ways. I stood to the side, taking a rewarding sip from our slushie as Eddie managed to absolutely crush the game.

“That was awesome!” I cheered.

“W-well, I’ve practiced,” He replied sheepishly, watching as 1,000 tickets were placed onto his card balance. “But I think that was our last credit.”

“Damn,” I huffed. “I don’t want the date to end yet.”

“Heh heh,” Eddie laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck as he couldn’t make eye contact, face flushed a light pink. “W-well I had a bit more planned…”

“Oh!” I said in surprise. The dates I’ve always been on were one thing. Just dinner, just a movie, so the fact that Eddie planned out the day made my smile lighten considerably.

“B-but if you don’t want to continue that’s fine,” He stumbled, hands waving.

I rolled my eyes, squeezing his hand, “I just said I didn’t want the date to end silly.”

“Right,” He nodded. “Let’s see how many tickets we got.”

Nodding, we walked over to a machine that told us how many tickets we managed to get. I pouted when I saw I only got 2,000 tickets. Only for my jaw to go slack at the outrageous amount of tickets Eddie got. He got 20,000! That’s crazy!

“Holy sh-crap Eddie!” I corrected myself when I saw a little kid run past. Looking around, there wasn’t much I could get with my tickets. Whatever, I had fun nonetheless.

“What do you want?” Eddie asked, also looking around at the prizes he could choose. Sure, he couldn’t get the guitar that they had for some reason, but he still had a large variety.

“You get something you want,” I pushed. “You won them with your hard work.”

“W-well I wanna get something you want then,” He pouted. And who could say no to that face. My face warmed as I looked at the more promising prizes to choose from. After he got me an actually cute plushie (and not those cheap small ones), I let him choose something with the limited amount of tickets I got.

“So what’s next?” I asked as we began walking once more.

“Well I overheard you talking about that one movie you wanted to see…” He trailed off.

“Seriously?” I asked, eyes wide with excitement.

Oh he was serious. He even got the best seats in the back and everything. As the lights in the theater dimmed, I scooted over a bit closer to Eddie. Not too close, as I didn’t want to get him all flustered, even if I find it adorable. I watched in anticipation as the movie started to play, only to hear Eddie yawn. I glanced at him for a second, only for my eyes to return to the screen. Yet when I felt his arm around my shoulder, I had to try my best not to jump. I blinked, face blank, trying my hardest not to snicker. He actually pulled the classic yawn and arm around the shoulder move huh? I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else from the dork.

I relaxed into his embrace, resting my head on his shoulder and rested my hand on his stomach. But even though he was the one to pull the first move I could feel him tense under my touch, which made me worry if I took it too far somehow.

“Is this okay?” I whispered, not wanting to bother others.

“Y-yes,” He stuttered, and even in the dim lighting I could see the red that painted his face. I could only smile warmly, snuggling a bit further to get more comfortable. It was hard to focus on the movie when I was snuggled into a cutie. As the movie progressed, he got more comfortable, awkwardly holding my back. When the movie ended I couldn’t help but be in awe. It was so good! And I got to share it with someone I cared about! What more could I ask for?

“I can’t believe they actually finished it like that!” I exclaimed as I held Eddie’s arm. “That was awesome! Thank you for taking me to see it!”

Eddie chuckled, seeming to have gained more confidence over the experience, “I was surprised too! It was actually a good movie.” “Are you saying I have bad movie tastes?” I asked teasingly.

“N-no! Of c-course not!” He stuttered, waving his free hand in the air. “Th-they just didn’t have the best marketing!”

I laughed gently, nudging his side playfully, “I’m just teasing.” I wasn’t really paying attention to where we were going, just enjoying my time with Eddie while also trying to silently struggle with the plushie I got. I’m glad I got it, but it was kind of an inconvenience while walking. I nearly stumbled when we stopped outside of a restaurant. Eddie opened the door for me, and I walked in. This was by far the best date I’ve ever been on. Fun at the arcade, restful at the movie, and now a dinner to top it all off?

As we were seated, Eddie practically rushed to push my chair in for me. And people say chivalry is dead. Well I suppose calling a villain chivalrous is quite ironic, but I digress. We made some small talk while looking over the options. It wasn’t too many, but not too little either. I managed to find something I liked, and I was glad that we were getting something to eat because I was starting to get quite hungry.

“Do you know what you want?” Eddie asked. “I’ll order it for you.”

I was about to protest, but the sweet look in his eyes had my arguments die in my throat. So instead, I told him what I wanted, and he seemed to concentrate hard to remember it perfectly. He was just too cute. I wonder how no one has scooped him up yet. I’m one lucky person for him to be interested in me.

As the waiter came by to take our orders, Eddie managed to get them out without one stutter. I smiled at him proudly. The food came around quickly, thankfully.

“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?” I asked mindlessly, before taking a bite out of my food.

Eddie hummed as he swallowed his bite, “Just finishing up my one plan. Hopefully I can execute it properly.” He slightly deflated at the thought.

Reaching over, I rested my hand over his, causing his gaze to linger on mine, “I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully. After all, you are the smartest man I’ve ever met.”

His cheeks dusted a light pink, either from the touch, or the praise, I wasn’t sure. Probably a mix from both. He pushed his glasses up, seeming to push down his self deprecation and nodded. I knew he wasn’t pushing it because he didn’t want to ruin the date, but I wanted to make sure he knew I wasn’t just lying to him.

“I wouldn’t go on a date with just anyone you know,” I smiled, gently rubbing my thumb over his knuckles before letting go to continue eating.

That seemed to have gotten to him a bit better as he seemed lost for words. He praised me all the time, so I knew that he couldn’t refute anything when it came to me. It was a nice thought, that he saw me so highly, I just wish he could see himself the way I saw him.

Dinner went smoothly after that. And as we exited the restaurant, I realized we’ll have to walk all the way back to my place. Not that I didn’t want to spend more time with Eddie, it’s just that my body was starting to get sore with all the walking we’ve done today. Not to mention I had to carry the plushie at an awkward angle, making my arm sore.

“Do you think we could catch a cab?” I asked Eddie sheepishly, messing with the ear of my plushie.

“Ye-yeah!” Eddie nodded. The ride to my place was quick, and it was nice to rest my head on Eddie’s shoulder. He was less tense about it than earlier which was nice. When the familiar building appeared, I couldn’t help but feel myself relax. I had a wonderful day with Eddie, but a bath sounds plenty nice at the moment.

Like the gentlemen Eddie is, he walked me to my door, the cab driving off.

“I had a great night tonight,” I said with a smile towards Eddie. He wore his own, eyes gleaming under the streetlight. “Thank you Eddie.”

“Thank you,” He replied. “For allowing me the chance.”

“You always had a chance,” I teased. And then it was silent, except for the cars in the background. I watched as Eddie’s gaze dropped to my lips for a split second before looking away. I knew he wouldn’t make the first move, and if I learned anything from tonight, he was more open to affection than I thought.

So, in a fit of bravery, I leaned in, placing my lips on his. He was frozen for a second, before gently kissing me back. I raised a hand to hold his cheek gently, taking in how soft he felt. His lips were warm, his skin was smooth, and even his hair on his sideburns was surprisingly soft to the touch. I was about to pull away, but was surprised when Eddie placed a hand on my neck, keeping me close to him. I gave him a few more seconds before pulling away, the burn in my lungs delicious. But the sounds he let out were even better. He was more intoxicating than he will ever realize because the urge to kiss him was strong, but I’ll save that for the second date.

“Good night Eddie,” I spoke, breaking him out of the little trance he seemed to be in.

“G-good night!” Eddie replied as I gave him a kiss on the cheek for good measure. I waved at him as I entered my place. Licking my lips, I tasted the slight salt from his skin. He had been sweating after our kiss. I could only shake my head at the thought, only wondering what Eddie would surprise me with next time.

#riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nygma #riddler #the riddler #edward nashton #x reader #young justice riddler #young justice riddler x reader

86 notes · View notes

opttwoodrow · 5 months ago

Text

The Ballad of Bighole

Prelude

The Myth of Magnaformus, known to locals as 'The Ballad of Bighole', is a retelling of the events of the Bighole gangwar of late M41. This gang war, while not more than a footnote in the annals of Necromundan history, became legend among the drudges of the House of Iron, eventually being turned into the eponymous ballad sung by road gangs across the planet as they traveled the ashroads. Here follows its inciting incident:

Vivian Merdena is missing, and gang warfare is kindling throughout Bighole. Nobody knows for sure where she has gone or what has happened to her, but everybody has heard a rumour or two and has an opinion to share

Some say she wasn't happy with a stationary life and has run off with a Roadboss to live life on the roads of Necromunda. Others say that a Delaque assassin put her down in one of the cavernous ore silos that dot the upper levels of Bighole. And furtive whispers are passed that she is making a move against her father, laying low to bait him into an ambush.

But no matter the cause of her disappearance, it has left a power vacuum that gangs of every house are scrambling to fill. From the lowest flooded sump level to the highest enforcer compound, all have something to gain from the coming anarchy. And all the while, a strange signal has been detected emanating from the toxic depths of the pit, could this have something to do with Vivian's disappearance, or could it signal something more esoteric is afoot? Is this the start of a new golden age or the first signs of rust tearing into the settlement of Bighole?

The Ballad of Bighole is a Necromunda 2017 Dominion campaign with narrative elements set in Magnaformus, a settlement carved into the side of an ancient pit mine north of the Primus Cluster, known by the locals as Bighole.

This campaign features 4 players and their gangs:

The Mavens of Magnaformus- Escher

Rad Watch - Van Saar

Corpse Wives - Corpse Grinder Cult

An as yet unnamed Delaque gang (how fitting)

This campaign is a long time in the making and really was a call to action for a different and much grander project i have used as daydream fodder for many years now. But with my regular play partner soon to be emigrating to Australia, it seemed like it was now or never for a narrarive campaign of some kind, and Necromunda was there to scratch the itch.

To show the kind of stuff i have been accumulating for the evenual dream campaign, here are some photos of my accumulated '40k adjacent roleplaying minis' featuring lots of different factions, civilians and hangers on, and a few wee beasties for good measure. There is a whole extra pile of shame dedicated to this project that will remain unphotographed.

So to prepare for the camapign, as its host and architect, i needed terrain. I already have plenty of 40k style terrain, but its a bit too 'ruined cathedral' for my needs. Plus to fill a necromunda board I would need much much more. Perhaps make my own out of cardboard and other crafty type mateials? Maybe, but i needed this quick as my emigree friend and I are known for our wandering eyes when it comes to big projects and i would have to learn from scratch if i was to do thia. So how was I to do this quickly, but without breaking the bank?

My plan was simple: cheap on the bulk, spend on the details. i.e TTCOMBAT MDF terrain for most of what I needed, and then a few GW kits thrown in to give it that truly 41st millenium feel. This would allow me to have a variety of terrain that could be used in different ways and would all be of a similar scale. So I got to work. I could go through all the details, but here is a photo montage of putting together and painting the core of the terrain.

With the gangs gathered and enough terrain to play a game, we gathered arms and had a day of gaming! I shall go into detail about the test game and the 2 propper battles we played in a different post as I have run out of photos allowed in the app, but the Ballad of Bighole has officially begun!

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #necromunda #tabletop games #miniature painting #escher #miniature terrain #The Ballad of Bighole #TBOBH #warhammer 40000 #TBOBH0.5

23 notes · View notes

13as07 · 9 months ago

Text

Cats and Dogs #1

(Kiba Inuzuka)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Marimari999]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,570

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

[Reader] is a Neko (or as close as I could get with my rushed research and to go with the story line) per request

Fighting

Gets heated at the end

Scratching

Hair Pulling

Biting

———————————————————————

"You look stupid, Izuno-Chan," Neji mutters, his hands buried in my hair, messing it up. "Take the dumb ears off, they're distracting."

"Stop looking at them and you'll stop being distracted, nyaa?" I counter, tilting my head, and letting my eyes fall closed. My arms wrap around the moody boy, cuddling up to him as he plays with my head. I stretch my neck out on his chest too, making sure he can feel the vibrations of my vocal cords as I spill noises of approval.

"I hate cats," he spits out, his hands falling to toy with the bell I've strung onto my village regulation headband. "Take your ears off," Neji grumbles again, tapping the bell so it softly rings every other beat.

"Why, my Lord? Are you ashamed of my heritage? Are you ashamed to have an Izuno on your squad, nyaa? Are you ashamed to have a member of the quote and quote cat clan on your team?" I tease, sliding my nails gently across his sides as I nuzzle my nose against his neck.

"Wha... what? Of course, not. And stop calling me your lord!" Neji yells, my teasing working only a moment before his hand is gripping the headband reading around my neck, using it to peel me off of him. "I don't see why you insist on touching me all the time."

"Because she's a cat, silly," Lee's voice rings out, instantly making me perk up. Neji might be my favorite squad mate to pester but Lee is my favorite to love on. Though, Tenten is a close second.

"Lee!" I chirp, struggling - but managing - to wiggle out of Neji's hold. "Lee," I repeat my tone a hiss this time instead of chirping with excitement to see him. The mixed smell of woody cologne, grass, and a hint of sweat fills my nose, the added scent of fur tipping me off the most. "Why do you smell like an Inuzuka?"

"Now just listen for a moment, okay?" He starts, hands up in defense and his eyes bouncing around the street. "Sensei and I ran into squad eight on the way here. It's no big deal, Gai-Sensei just agreed to have dinner with them and I told you the cologne wouldn't work!" Lee's tone rises as he attempts to slowly back away. By the end he's dashing down the street with me hot on his heels as he yells at Sensei, I assume.

The chase is afoot. Lee running for his life screaming, me running after him as I yell about him being a trader, Sensei chasing after the both of us insisting that I stop or that Lee let me tackle him, and Neji taking up the rear as he complains about us embarrassing him. When our path crosses Tenten's, who was on the way to meet all of us, she joins in, jogging alongside Neji.

Well, the chase is afoot until the sound of Kakashi and Naruto plotting to stop us filters into my ears. Lee might be able to squirm out of Naruto's hold but I know I can't do the same with Kakashi, a disappointing end to my Cat and Mouse game.

As planned, when Lee and I pass by, Naruto jumps at Lee and Kakashi springs forward, his hands scooping me up under my arms and dangling like a... well, a cat. "Hello," the older man says, his head resting against mine.

"Kakashi," I hiss, my eyes slit as I glare at the pile of Lee and Naruto wrestling on the ground. "Put me down."

"Why? So you can join the cat-fight?" He hums, one of his arms swooping down to hold my legs, shifting me so my weight is evened out in his hold better. "Wouldn't cuddles and watching those two go at it be better?"

"You're trying to distract me," I fizz out, trying to ignore the older man rubbing his forehead against mine. "It's not going to work, nyaa," I add, my eyes slowly going back to normal as they flicker between Kakashi and the boys fighting. I trying my best to hold on to my territorial anger but it's not working so well.

"Except it is," the teacher points out, pulling away so the both of us can watch Gai-Sensei attempt to pull Lee and Naruto away from their playful sparring match. "Tell me cat, why is Lee your mouse today?"

"Lee isn't a mouse," a monotone voice says, tugging my sight toward the corner Kakashi and Naruto were hiding around. An off-brand-looking Sasuke slithers out from the corner, looking ghostly pale as he heads towards us. "Nor is she a cat," he adds, standing next to Kashi.

"Don't argue with your Sensei, Sai. I assure you she's as close to a cat as a person can get. See?" Kakashi answers, two fingertips settling on my top jaw, pushing my mouth open to show off my canines. "Not to mention the claws Gai's kitten tends to walk around with and her slitted eyes that give her sight advantages. Her sense of hearing and smell is excellent as well." As he educates his student, I'm poked and prodded at, the teacher showing off my perfectly maintained nails and messing with me enough to make my eyes slit in response.

"That’s enough," Neji intervenes, snatching me from the older man and setting me on my feet, making sure to keep a grip on me so I can't jump Gai-Sensei and Lee. "If you piss her off, I have to deal with it."

The Sai guy looks me over, a weird smile on his face as he hums. "So she's like Kiba?"

"What?!" I yell, shoving my elbow into Neji as I squirm in his hold, sights set on tearing Kakashi's newest student to shreds. "I am nothing like that dumb, smelly dog!"

"You have to be kidding me," Neji grumbles, grasping at me just as quickly as he loses his hold.

"My pretty kitty!" Gai sings out, sweeping me off my feet in a similar way to his friend. I don't get why everyone insists on holding me all the time. It's annoying and an invasion of my space. I swear I'm going to bite the next person who picks me up.

I sulk in his arms, sending my annoyed look toward Tenten who giggles in response. "Put me down, Sensei."

"Why are you always so mean to me, Izuno-Chan? You let Neji hold you," Sensei whines, trying to nuzzle up to me.

I shift around in his hold, shoving him away from me as I try to squeeze out of his arms. "Ya, well Neji smells like honeysuckles. You smell like sweat and Kakashi's annoying mutts all the time."

"My dogs aren't annoying," the other teacher murmurs, looking a little deflated from my words. I swear I hate dog people more than I hate dogs.

————————————

"Izuno-Chan, let's try a smile please," Sensei cheers, using his fingers to showcase the shape of one as he smiles at me. "We're having dinner with our coworkers. You don't have to be friends but please be nice."

"I can smell him and his ratty little mutt from here," I grumble, my eyes unwillingly slit as they slide over the ground, picking up on every paw and shoe print. It's true, I can smell Kiba and Akamaru from here but surprisingly, for once they don't smell half bad. Maybe their Sensei made them wash the wet dog smell out of their coats.

"It'll be okay, Izuno-Chan! I'll get some of that herbal tea you like to smell so you can't smell Kiba and his dog, okay?" Lee chirps, his hand gripping my shoulders as he bounces around behind me.

As we walk into the restaurant, his hands jump up, toying with my ears and the hair surrounding them. It's a nice relaxer but doesn't do the job of completely calming me down. The closer to the table we get, the more it feels like my hair is standing on end. I hate dogs, I hate Inuzukas, and I hate this stupid dinner hangout Gai-Sensei planned.

Why is he and Kurenai so hell-bent on Kiba and me getting along? Don't they know cats and dogs are mortal enemies? All dumb dogs do is bark and chase. Would it kill them to take a chill pill now and again?

As if to solidify my thoughts, Kiba's laughter echoes throughout the room, his little mutt - who isn't so little anymore - barking as if to laugh too. Akamaru is a lot bigger than the last time I saw him, putting me even more on edge.

When we're a foot or two away from the table, said dog takes notice. His ears shift back, his tail still between his legs, and his head low. "Dumb dog," I grumble, barring my teeth just enough for the tips of my canines to poke out.

"Says the sneaky feline," Kiba mutters, his eyes a bit slit as he glares at me. "What? Still no tail to go with the ears?"

"What? Still no girl to dump your litter into?" I retaliated, causing my Sensei to jump forward, his hand sliding over my mouth to shut me up.

Gai-Sensei and Kurenai apologize back and forth on our behalf, Kiba and I glaring at each other the whole time as our squad mates start to mingle among each other. Dumb dog. "You're one to talk. Last time I checked you don't have a partner either. Though, it's no surprise you haven't managed to sink your claws into a man yet," Kiba mumbles, both me and his teacher picking up on his rant.

Kurenai shoots a warning glare at her student, a silent lecture spilling from her eyes. The smugness I feel only lasts a moment or two, my lecture quickly following. "Be nice, Izuno-Chan, or I swear I'll let Kakashi borrow you to help Sai understand the animalistic traits many clans of our village have. Am I understand?" Sensei's tone is soft and cheery in my ear, though the threat still pokes through the sugary coat it's wearing.

"Yes sir," I huff, shifting my sight away from Kiba's and my staring contest.

"Good, now go sit down," Sensei orders, a thumb sliding over the back of my ears as his other fingers massage my scalp. Great, now my hair is going to smell like Kakashi's mutts too.

When Gai-Sensei pulls away, I let my eyes skirt back towards the table. I can sit next to the dogs... or between Tenten and Neji, which would leave me directly in the middle of their confused flirting situation. Why can't they just sit next to each other? Or admit their feelings to each other?

Dogs or third wheel? Dogs or third wheel? Neji's head snaps away, his cheeks dusted in pink embarrassment from whatever Tenten just said. Dogs it is.

Reluctantly I slide into the seat next to Kiba, both our Senseis not so secretly excited about my choice. Sadly for Lee, he's stuck between the two love birds. At least he's oblivious enough not to notice I guess.

Akamaru bares his teeth as I settle in place, a soft growl spilling from his muzzle. My eyes shoot down, slit and warning as I stare at the mutt. I hiss back at him, my teeth showing off just as much. The fleabag grumbles, walking along the underside of the table twice before crawling under his master's chair to lie down.

Kiba leans towards me, an exaggerated smile on his face. "I hope Akamaru bites you," he whispers, quite pleased with himself.

I smile back at the personified dog, leaning closer so he can smell the citrus oil I put on before this dreaded super. The curled distaste of his nose is enough to add a hint of truth to my smile. "I hope it's not too late for your mother to get you fixed."

"Pussy," he growls, his jaw clenching as he continues to smile, eyes flickering towards the Senseis that are whispering among themselves, their own eyes flickering towards us.

"Mutt."

"Well isn't this going to be fun," Tenten mutters next to me, rolling her eyes at the two of us as she looks over the menu.

"At least we get free entertainment," Hinata adds, the two girls giggling at Kiba and me bickering.

Kiba's foot slides around under the table, quickly finding the leg of my chair. Once he's sure it is my chair, he kicks it, making the chair and me jerk. I swear to the Lord above, I. Hate. Dogs.

————————————

"Knock it off!" I hiss, swatting at Kiba once again tonight, causing him to howl with laughter.

The mangy mutt has been tugging on my ears all night. If it's not my ears he's messing with, it's the bell on my headband. "If you don't want me tugging on them, you shouldn't wear them."

I let out a huff, scanning the street again. Neji and Hinata left dinner early to help their chief with something. Tenten and Shino agreed to help set up the school dance tonight so they left a few minutes ago. Lee just straight-up vanished sometime during dinner. He probably scurried off to help Neji and Chief Hyuga with whatever it was they had to do.

All that has left me alone outside, sadly with Kiba and his dog, as we wait for our Senseis. Gai-Sensei insisted on - more like ordered - walking me home, as ever the gentleman he is. Kiba argued about walking his Sensei home too, insisting she is too far along in her pregnancy to be left unattended. Dogs might be the dumbest beings on Earth, but all beasts have their good qualities, even dumb mutts. It just so happens that loyalty is their only redeeming quality.

Akamaru impatiently does another lap, running a few paces away before turning around and running back to his master. I don't know why it's taking Gai so long to pay the damn bill. Actually, I do. He's probably inside fighting with Kurenai over who's going to pay. Gai is too much of a gentleman to let her pay and Kurenai is too stubborn to let him pay. I swear I can't wait for this obnoxious night to end.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kiba shift again, his hand slowly inching towards my ears for the hundredth time. "Kiba," I hiss, my eyes trailing his every movement. "I swear," I try to warn, turning my head to fully glare at him. "If you pull my ears again, I'm going to hurt you."

"Sure you will, Pussy Cat. I'm trembling with fear," he chuckles, lunging forward, his fingers cling to my ears, tugging on them rougher than before.

“Kiba!” I wail, one hand jumping up to pull his hand away, the other one shooting forward, slapping his face. My nails dig into his cheek, leaving four shallow scratch marks on his skin. They’re shallow but blood still melts out from the wounds, starting to spill down his face in thin red lines.

“The hell did you just do?” He barks, his hands pulling away from my ears like I wanted. One of his hands grips my hair, snapping my head back so it’s pressed against the brick wall of the restaurant. His other hand grips my wrist, pressing it against the wall above my head.

My eyes are slit, picking up on every whisper of a movement. Kiba’s teeth are bared, hisses of breath spilling out between them as he looks down at me. My breath is as thick as his, but I’m doing a better job at hiding it… I think. “Kiba?” I whisper, my free hand sliding against the one he has buried in my hair.

“I asked you a goddamn question. What the hell do you think you’re doing scratching me?” He repeats, leaning further down, his sharp teeth sliding against my ear as he speaks. “I hate cats. Especially nasty sneaky ones like you.”

“I’m sorry, Kiba. I didn’t mean to, it was just an instinct reaction, I swear,” I murmur, my eyes scanning for a way out.

I can’t tell if I hate or like this. Kiba smells like a gross dog, but his teeth sliding against my ear sends shivers down my spine. His husky tone adds to the shivers, but him towering over me, pressing me against the wall is a bit scary… and hot. Though his cockiness is ticking me off. What a dumb dog. I could scratch him again, that might work or it could make everything worse. “Let me go.”

“Or what? You’ll scratch me again?” He chuckles in my ear, his canines nicking my ear, threatening to bubble out a noise I don’t want him to hear. “Fine, I’ll let you go.” Oh, thank the Lord. “Under one condition.” Dumb bully of a dog.

“Let me go, Mutt,” I hiss again, trying to puff myself up to seem bigger. I try tugging his hold off too, hoping to get my wrist or at the very least my hair loose; it doesn’t work.

“How cute. The pretty kitten thinks puffing herself up will scare me off. I promise my condition isn’t that bad, kitty cat.”

My eyes snap around the street, scanning for an out that I once again don’t find. “Alright, fine. What’s your condition?”

“You marked me with an instinctive reaction so it’s only fair if I mark you with one too.”

“Kiba,” I try to hiss, his name coming out more as fear than as the headstrong tone I was trying. “What does that mean?”

“Just a small bite, it’ll hurt less than those sharp little claws of yours,” he murmurs, his head slowly shifting down from my ear, his nose sliding over my skin as he tumbles down. “I can’t believe you’re petty enough to dose yourself in citrus,” Kiba whispers against my neck, causing shivers to twirl around my spine again. “You know, I think next we’re forced to hang out I’ll coat myself in peppermint,” he adds, his tongue slithering out to slide over my neck.

“Nyaa,” the sound spills out of me before I can stop it, my eyes - which I didn’t notice were closed - snap open, being met with the cocky smile smeared on Kiba’s lips. “That’s… that’s not a bite,” I push out, baring my teeth as I tug on his wrists again.

“No, it’s not. Are you going to mew when I bite you too?” He asks, words drowning in cockiness. The dumb mutt slides his tongue over my neck a couple more times, tempting me to spill another noise. Luckily, I don’t, which chips away at Kiba’s attitude. “What a shame,” he starts whispering into my skin, tightening his hold on my hair and tugging my head further back. “Oh well, at least you won’t taste like citrus now.”

The dumb dog tests his jaw against my neck, barely resting his teeth against my skin. His teeth leave my skin, only for a second, before they latch onto my skin again. “Nyaa!” The sound rips from my throat, coming out a lot louder than last time.

Kiba giggles, his teeth sharp and deep in my skin this time, threatening to draw blood. “Keep meowing, kitty,” he orders, his words coming out muffled as he sinks his teeth deeper.

“Kiba?”

“Meow,” he orders again, his canines finally breaking my skin, the warmth of my blood trickling out from around his teeth.

“Nyaa, nyaa, nyaa. Kiba, let me go. Nyaa,” I cave, tugging on his hold again.

Chuckles spill from the man as he pulls away, a drop or two of my blood dripping from his sharp teeth. “What a dumb cat.”

“Stupid mutt,” I hiss, rolling my wrist that was pinned against the wall as my other hand jumps up to press against the bite mark shoved into my skin.

Silence falls between us for a moment, Kiba grinning ear to ear as he rubs his fingertips over the scratches stamped into his cheek. I shoot my glare at our feet, tracing the outline of his teeth left on my neck. I hate dogs, I hate how cheery they are, how cocky they can be. Dumb dogs. Dumb Kiba.

“Dear Lord,” my Sensei’s voice cuts through the silence, tugging both of our attentions toward him. “Will you two ever stop fighting? If you won’t, can’t you guys at least keep it verbal?”

Kurenai laughs, her hands rubbing over her round belly. “What do you expect, Gai? Inuzukas and Izunos fight like cats and dogs. It’s in their blood to hate each other.”

“Oh, ya. I hate cats all the way down to my DNA,” Kiba seconds, leaning down as he walks past, his nose brushing mine for a second until his steps force him to part from me again. “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya,” he calls over his shoulder, looping his arm through his Sensei’s before they head down the street, his dog following close behind.

My eyes trail after him, hating him even more with every step he takes. “I hate dogs,” I grumble, softening my eyes when I shift them towards Gai-Sensei.

“I know,” he chuckles, his fingertips sliding over my ears. “And they hate you.”

I know they do… I think.

———————————————————————

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #kiba inuzuka oneshot #kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba inuzuka #kiba oneshot #kiba x reader

38 notes · View notes

mara-xx217 · 1 year ago

Note

I'd love to see some general yandere pocketcat hcs (termina) like does he treat reader differently then the others and try to help reader out (maybe bargaining for something in return). Or just how their dynamic would be and how he would act to the object of his obsession affections.

Omg yes I LIVE for yandere Pocketcat Istg-

Warnings: Yandere, Implied Non-con, Obsessive/Possessive Tendencies, Stalking, Voyeurism, Somnophilia

Yandere!Pocketcat Headcanons

All contestants report on feeling like they are always being watched, but none are being watched as closely as you and a certain one-eyed doctor...

You meet Pocketcat far earlier than anyone else. He's had an eye on you for some time and now that the game is afoot, he has no need to hold back in introducing himself.

That masked gentleman could be considered charming... but something about him makes you physically sick. You can't put your finger on it, but after the horrors you've seen so far in the few hours you've been in Prehevil, you now trust your gut instinct and keep your distance.

Melodrama should be Pocketcat's middle name, because you not shaking his hand and viewing him with suspicion has him reeling and acting as though you have struck him with the rusty pipe you managed to pick up from a trash pile.

He believes that persistence is key to any budding relationship, so just one rebuttal (or a few dozen with escalating responses) won't be enough to dissuade him from pursuing you. Pocketcat will be relentless as he 'courts' you, always offering you advice, a new possible way forward or... something else, but always for a price. You never asked what that price was because you knew you wouldn't like the answer you would receive.

It hurts him, how resistant you are to his advances. Though... there was one moment where you would be vulnerable to his charms...

You aren't safe anywhere, even on the train or in the Bop. Pocketcat knew that you were the one. The one. You may resist while awake but in the midst of sleep, you were honest and your body would tell a different story than your mouth would the next time you would meet in the waking world...

'No, no, no...' It was all you said to him. The more you said it, the more it started to sound like 'Yes, yes, yes...!' to Pocketcat. Your refusals would only pull him closer, not push him away. The hook was already set and he was thoroughly ensnared... As were you, though you didn't know it yet.

Pocketcat wouldn't mind if you were to become Moonscorched... Your new, monstrous form only adds to your beauty, not detracts from it.

He would try to drop the 'big L word' love before you would turn... though perhaps you would be more receptive to it with his Master's influence opening your eyes to the truth?

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather

#fear and hunger #fear & hunger #fear & hunger termina #pocketcat #pocketcat x reader #fear & hunger x reader #ask response #yandere #implied noncon #stalking #headcanons

103 notes · View notes

angelsanarchy · 1 year ago

Text

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 04

"Never have I ever had to hide a boner." "Oh she plays dirty. I might be in love."

SATURDAY, 12:45AM

Once the weed and the food was consumed, y/n sprawled her legs across Clyde's knees as he leaned back into the couch, head leaned all the way back as he giggled.

"My brain says I should probably head out but my body says where did your legs go!?" Clyde patted her knees, turning his head towards her but still resting against the couch.

"I think you should listen to your legs...or the absence of your legs? Listen to whatever is telling you to not get up." Clyde rubbed her shin unconsciously making her meet his eyes.

"What's your big plan now? How will you keep me entertained? You don't look like you can move much either." Y/n watched Clyde tried to blow his hair away from his face without moving his arms from her legs.

"Why would I want to move when I'm enjoying the company so much? Can't I entertain you while we both be incredibly lazy on the couch?" Clyde asked cutely. Y/n teased Clyde with her foot poking him in the side making him stare at her lying on her back comfortably on the couch.

"What did you have in mind?" Y/n asked propping herself up

"My friend Snow is a freak for the game Never Have I Ever...you ever heard of it?" Clyde asked. Y/n smiled and sat up on the couch, scooting a little closer to him so they weren't sitting so far apart. She held up her hands and Clyde nodded.

"Okay let's see, never have I ever worn a bra." Clyde teased. Y/n put her pinky down.

"Never have I ever had to hide a boner." She smirked watching Clyde's smile grow.

"Oh she plays dirty. I might be in love." Clyde put his pinky down.

"Never have I ever had a one night stand." Clyde watched Y/n's fingers carefully and she kept all nine of her fingers up smugly.

"Not really my thing. I'm too young to get accidentally knocked up and I don't like to bring people back to my apartment." Y/n explained, Clyde took comfort in knowing she was particular about who she slept with. Not like he had a ton of experience in it.

"Never have I ever been to jail." Y/n tilted her head watching Clyde's gaze drop, lowering his ring finger.

"Convicted murderer?" Y/n teased.

"I shot my mom's dog...she pressed charges and kicked me out but it's cool." Clyde explained.

"Oh my god! Why is that so much worse than being a murderer?!" Y/n shoved Clyde's chest.

"The dog was old and she was letting it suffer. I mean a 150 pound dog in a wheelchair? Poor guy was done." Clyde's explanation seemed genuine and y/n felt sympathy for his reaction.

"I take it you don't get along with your mom." Y/n pressed earning a shrug.

"My mom is actually in Florida living her best life. My step mom's dog is the one I shot. As much as my dad didn't want to have to lock me up, he knew it was either me or her so I guess I get it." This was the first time Clyde seemed bummed out. Y/n could tell his family life was a sore spot that she wouldn't press.

"I bailed my dad out of jail once. He fell asleep naked on the strip." Y/n tried to lighten the mood.

"Wow that's illegal? I've seen more dicks and tits on the strip than I've seen behind closed doors. Was he wasted?" Clyde chuckled.

"Oh obliterated. It was more so that he was naked in front of Gordan Ramsey's restaurant so women and children were afoot." Y/n broke it down and could see Clyde trying not to laugh too hard about it.

"Yeah I guess they frown upon dicks being out in front of children. There's always a line to be drawn somewhere." Clyde joked.

"Never have I ever been on a real date." Clyde blushed.

"Well what do you consider a real date? I mean I've gotten dinner with a someone but I've never been like wined and dined." Y/n explained.

"Is that what kind of thing you're into? Big fancy?" Clyde pressed earning a laugh.

"God no! I like getting to know someone in their own element. I feel like you can tell a lot about a person in the most casual setting. People aren't naturally themselves all suited up and spending an ass ton of money on a baby portion of food." Clyde listened carefully and couldn't help but smile at her. She couldn't sound more perfect to him.

"So by definition, this is your ideal date?" Clyde grinned.

"Honestly, this isn't bad. This is the most fun I've actually had in a while. You're easy to be around, Clyde." Y/n couldn't help but blush seeing how sweet Clyde's smile was.

"Hey don't get any ideas about me being easy." Clyde teased. Y/n squinted at him.

"Hmm I don't know. You're telling me that if I really wanted to get you to make out with me...you'd turn me down?" Y/n crawled over towards Clyde who still had his hands up in front of.

"You think I put out on the first date? Wh-what kind of guy do you take me for?" Clyde swallowed the lump in his throat as moved to straddle his lap, taking his hands into her own and putting them on her hips.

"I take you for a really cute, really fun guy and not at all a serial stalker who lured me to his place to smoke and play silly games." Y/n pushed some of Clyde's hair off his face and could see the nervousness in his eyes. For a moment, she second guessed herself thinking maybe she had rushed things.

"Lured is...is a strong word. You technically drove yourself here." Clyde stuttered out making y/n giggle. He got actual goosebumps from that giggle. She rested her hands on his shoulders trying to read his face. His eyes flickered to her lips and he didn't seemed to freeze when she started to lean into him. Before their lips could connect, Y/n's phone started blaring causing them both to jump. She rolled off of Clyde's lap and snatched her phone off the table.

"Hey what's up? I'm hanging out with a friend from the club...what? No! What do you mean don't come home tonight...Dude I get that you have a girl over but-" Clyde listened to Y/n's call and tried to shift his body to hide his annoying boner.

"You are literally the worst roommate on the planet...hello? Bitch." Y/n hung the phone up and turned back towards Clyde.

"So...I just kind of got scrunchied." Y/n frowned.

"I have no idea what that means." Clyde shook his head.

"Well my roommate is entertaining a lady friend tonight so she's essentially told me not to come home. You know, some guys put a sock on the doorknob...girls use the scrunchie.." Y/n explained making Clyde nod in understanding.

"You're more than welcome to crash here. I can give you shirt or something to sleep in-" Clyde stood up, trying to shift away from y/n until his half chub was fully concealed.

"You don't have to do that. I've already tried to jump your bones and you've been so sweet-" Clyde cut her off by saying her name. Damn did she liked how her name sounded on his lips.

"Seriously, crash here. I'll even lock the door so you feel safe." Clyde held out an oversized band shirt and fuzzy Halloween socks that had blazed out pumpkins on them. Y/n had never stayed the night with a guy before, especially one she was really growing to like. Staying would give her more time to hang out with Clyde and get to know him better. She reached out and took the clothes from him returning his smile. She felt an anxious burst of heat in her stomach and made a mental note to thank her roommate later.

#electrick children #Clyde x y/n #Clyde #rory culkin #One Long Weekend Series #One Shot Series #y/n fics #I wanted to get this one out since tomorrow is my birthday #and I have an even cuter one of these to post tomorrow!#4/18

140 notes · View notes

tapwater118 · 17 days ago

Note

gonna take you up on that whole “i give you: ramblings - you give me: approval/a number from 1-10” thing, liy related since i know shes on the mind. this wouldve been what that liy&one fic i vagueposted about in tapcord focuses on btw, chances of me finishing that are slim so i’m just gonna talk about it here!

liy’s been shown to be very inquisitive and focused on her adventures, see how throughout bfb + tpot 1 with how she reacts to the exit backdoor. and so a new mystery afoot? contestants disappearing left and right only to return with their limbs back? hesitant to discuss the things they did? thats prime for liy’s next adventure!

i always imagine her with one of those big investigation boards tying things together with pins and string, shes tying points together late at night but things just won’t make sense! atleast not until someone decides to make a special visit…

bam! shes in one’s lair, after some sort of frantic failed escape attempt, panic sets in due to the fact that she was caught by yet another blue number, cue angst thanks to exit ptsd, but worry not! one is here. she tells liy how theyve been watching eachother for a while, in a way, and how she’d like to make a deal!

liy’s an outcast - likely feeling some sort of inability to truly connect to people after debutting into tpot, even if she had made great friends with everyone on her team (bottle and pen atleast), the exit almost certainly took its toll, as represented through pencil. theres also her killing past, something which definitely still is present in her in some way. those who know her the best? foldy and stapy? they know about it! she cant escape it anyway. not to mention the looming threat of being eliminated again, who knows what’ll happen there! it definitely is something weighing on her mind constantly after the exit

all that to say she’s very vulnerable to a deal being made in ‘her favor’. unlike all the other contestants, she also doesn’t have the same loyalty to two that everyone else does, making her the prime candidate by one as her proxy in the game. she couldn’t do this with anyone else previously, but she could play, and win tpot through liy, getting two’s powers not through force but instead by pulling the strings from the shadows. she’d probably offer liy a fraction of the powers of two - heck maybe even some of one’s power upfront!

so yeah! liy signs the deal admitidly hesitantly, but it’ll bring her what she wants, she believes. whether or not this comes true? who knows! i havent thought about things more but thats where you could throw in your own thoughts if you like i’ve exerted enough brainpower here. liyone toxic yuri is real btw

9/10 the one point docked because you forgot the sloppy make out

#asks #i will be rotating this in my mind thank you taggy #what is this a house of leaves?!?! laugh track

6 notes · View notes

fandom-junk-drawer · 10 months ago

Text

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 14

Geralt and Jaskier shuffled through the back door, arms loaded with bags of sodas. They headed straight for the kitchen and began unpacking.

It was D&D night, so Yennefer might not have thought twice about the large quantity of drinks they were hauling in. But there were two little details that set warning bells off in her head.

1. Geralt had already gone out two days earlier and bought drinks and snacks for their weekly game night. 2. Every single soda in the bags was Sprite. Both Geralt and Jaskier favored colas, and Eskel was the only one of the Witchers that preferred Sprite. What where they doing with all that Sprite?

Something asinine this way comes. Yennefer thought to herself as she eyed the men suspiciously from the kitchen doorway. Jaskier was openly smiling at her, eyes glowing merrily. Geralt was avoiding looking at her all together.

Dumbf**kery was definitely afoot.

"You want to play with us?" Jaskier asked excitedly, "We're going to do The Sprite Challenge!"

"The what--?" Before Yennefer could finish asking her question, Jaskier opened a bottle of soda and downed the whole thing in one go, pausing only to breathe and give the carbonation burn time to fade. Then he stood there expectantly.

Mentally trying to regain her footing, Yennefer glanced at Geralt. The Witcher was watching Jaskier excitedly.

The seconds ticked by.

Feeling as if she was supposed to give some sort of commentary, Yennefer said, "Er, congratulations? You drank an entire bottle of Sprite all--!"

The rest of what Yennefer said was drowned out by the almighty belch that erupted from Jaskier. It was long, loud, and carried the faint scent of lemon-lime. Geralt and Jaskier laughing ecstatically, gave each other a celebratory high-five.

What the h*ll, a girl had to have fun sometimes. Yennefer gave up trying to be the mature one, and joined her two idiots, cheering them on and recording the proceedings.

"Your turn, big guy!" Jaskier announced. Geralt nodded, twisted the top off a Sprite, and chugged it. The liquid swirled in a little tornado as it disapeared down Geralt's throat. There was a moment of silence, before Geralt made a noise like a Skellige fog horn.

Guffaws erupted, and the process was repeated, with time in between for stomachs and bladders to empty. While they waited for the next round, Jaskier and Geralt took turns trying to belch their names and various obscenities.

Geralt and Jaskier: * chug Sprite*

Jaskier: *bear with a bellyache*

Geralt: *Semi truck engine braking*

Jaskier: *sound like someone ripping a***

Geralt: *goose honk*

Jaskier: *sound like a toilet unclogging*

Yennefer decided to give it a try herself. Jaskier and Geralt cheered her on as she downed her soda. Seconds later, she opened her mouth and out came a string of garbled noises that sounded like the syllables of the blackest magic spell ever spoken.

"Holy f**k!" Jaskier laughed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Did you just curse someone?" Geralt chortled.

"Was it just me, or did you see snakes come out of her boots and a black cloud swirl around her?"

"Oh, f**k you both!" Yennefer grumbled.

"I'd rather *garbled burp* a nekker!" Jaskier retorted.

"That's not much of an insult, considering you'd f**k anything with a hole in it!"

Jaskier: *affronted gasp*

"Scr*bber!"

"B*llend!"

"M*ngebag!"

"A*semonger!"

Geralt decided to intervene before the tit-for-tat escalated. The Witcher chugged a Sprite, tossed the bottle aside, and assumed the belching position. The distraction worked, and Yennefer and Jaskier forgot about their bantering and waited with bated breath.

Geralt grimaced, and then *dying humpback whale noises*

The three of them immediately lost their sh*t. They howled maniacally, holding their sides and leaning on whatever surface was close by.

Laughing on a belly full of carbonated liquid turned out to be risky business.

Geralt and Jaskier both laughed so hard they spewed.

One minute Yennefer was laughing at the ridiculous noise Geralt had made, and the next, her laughter turned to exclamations of surprised disgust. Puke fountained onto the floor as Geralt and Jaskier chucked whiteys. It rolled and splattered, and Yennefer was just doing her best to get the h*ll out of the way.

The vomiting petered out, turning to dry heaves before stopping. Yennefer helped them to the living room, settling them on the couches, then went back to the kitchen to clean up the mess.

She was not one to use magic for mundane things that she could do herself, but this time, she made an exception. She was not going to clean up this mess by hand. She spelled the kitchen clean with a wave of her hand, then returned to the living room and her two dumba**es.

She knew their stomachs were probably feeling a bit queasy, so she cheerfully offered them something to help.

"Here, have some Sprite, it will settle your stomachs!"

*Symphony of groans*

28 notes · View notes

violivs · 8 months ago

Text

NMTDaily: We Are The Watch and The Game is Afoot(ball)

- Doing the first two Dogberry & Verges episodes in one post. They’re always the characters I care about the least in any version of Much Ado, but these two are so cute I can’t help but love them.

- I totally forgot their videos are all posted on Ursula’s Watch Projects channel! I definitely somehow developed the incorrect memory of them having their own channel because they have orange borders on their thumbnails and every other new thumbnail color so far has heralded a new channel.

- Someone in the comments called Dogberry & Verges “Sherlock and Brittany S. Pierce,” and I will never recover from the sheer brilliance of that call. Verges definitely has Brittany energy.

- They’re very cute, arguing about what kinds of cases they’ll take. Do we ever find out whose cat Tibbles is? I bet she’s Dogberry’s cat and she got out when he left the door open too long.

- The malapropisms and exaggerated speech are so perfect though. It takes skill to write (and act!) two characters who are so wrong in every big fancy word choice and yet so convinced they’re right, who take their detective work SO seriously even though no one else does. And making them two kids playing at a detective agency. What great adaptations of these characters from the play.

- I think we already got the famous line “my mom says I have to wear the suspenders to keep the Devil from infiltrating me” in Vox Pops if I’m not mistaken, but I forgot to talk about it. Do we think Verges’ mom is crazy religious so Verges hides out at Dogberry’s house to get away from her? I love their friendship but the idea of Verges feeling unsafe at home makes me sad.

- “We are The Watch. And we are Watching!” *staring awkwardly*

- The kazoo Sherlock theme!!!! I genuinely almost forgot about that. Comedy gold. I love it. And I love that D&v definitely recorded that together (with Ursula’s help). I was wondering whether the Kazoo player was Dogberry and then the accompaniment of the second kazoo started and I cracked up imagining Verges very seriously chiming in to play her part. On kazoo. Amazing.

- “The ginger nuts you will find in your bag are from us” Perfect unhinged yet thoughtful energy. I know this video description is addressed to Ursula, but I have a strange urge to check my own bag, as though D&v have reached across ten years and thousands of miles to somehow leave ME ginger nuts. Mysterious.

- Starting “The Game is Afoot(ball)” now. I love how many angles we get on this same scene at the game. Reminds me of a future scene we get multiple angles on, except that scene we get D&v scrambled footage first and are left to frantically piece together what’s happening…

- Okay, I had to pause the video to die a little at Verges saying “masturbation” instead of “mastication” when talking about the muffins. I cannot believe they snuck that in lol. I want to cover Verges’ ears even though she doesn’t know what she’s saying! Cringing so hard for her right now.

- “We are going to interview civilizations!” Love that line lol

- So the first game of the season is a rematch with the team Messina was forced to forfeit last year’s championship or whatever to because the fire alarm was mysteriously pulled. Wild how Dogberry & Verges are actually giving us Important Backstory here.

- “what does that have to do with soccer” GASP! Why did that girl say “soccer”? She’s not American! Huh??? (This may be copy editor brain wondering whether I try really hard to get terminology right in my fanfics for nothing…)

- Does Pedro/Peter know that John pulled the fire alarm? It seems like everyone else does. It makes you wonder why he’s so surprised that John hates him enough to do what he does later on. I guess he’s just in denial of how bad things really are between them.

- We get shown exactly how bad things are between the Donaldsons with Pedro’s snippy “HALF-brother” comment and the way he slaps the car keys into John’s hand in that little moment we see between them. All is not well in the house of Donaldson. And at this point, we only know that because of Dogberry and Verges’ videos. It’s amazing how everything is important in its own way in this show.

- Pedro must be so eager to publicly distance himself from John with the half-brother comment both because he begrudged John’s arrival making his family life tough for a while, but also because other kids at school think John’s weird and Pedro, however unconsciously, doesn’t want him to tarnish his image. At least he does seem to feel bad about the little tiff over the keys.

- You also have to feel for John, because Pedro making comments like that publicly means that the whole community knows all of John’s personal business and probably whispers about his parentage, and he knows that they all know. It has to be very lonely to be John. And Pedro is doing the opposite of making things easier for him. It all must have been hard on Pedro too, their family being so talked about, and he’s also just a kid, but it’s still a huge dick move on his part to treat John that way.

- “John owned up to it” says Claudio, so everyone does know, so Pedro must know that John sabotaged the game. He just doesn’t understand it as an act of sabotage against him specifically, which is clearly what it was. He picked the most important game of the season because it would hurt Pedro most to have ruined, more than any other game. (And Robbie helps John pull the fire alarm because *he*, Robbie, wants revenge against Claudio for ‘stealing’ his spot as goalie, so he ruins Claudio’s first ever game).

- Ooh Ben is walking away with the group and does not have his green uniform shirt with him, so he did leave it on the ground in front of Beatrice! Do we think she really took it home to give back to him at school? Or did it end up in the lost and found? Not that we ever see another game, but he would need it back. Oh, maybe Bea gave it to Leo to give back to Ben, without telling him who left it there so he and Hero wouldn’t have more ammo to tease her about Ben. Analyzing incredibly minor details is fun!

- I also adore that Benedick apparently named this video by making a “the game is afoot-ball” pun when talking to Dogberry and Verges. Interesting that there’s so little footage of Ben in this video- did they interview him in this scene at all? Or did he name the video when he and D&V were all over at Ursula’s house getting editing help with their new vlogs? Either way, love this random little Ben-related detail.

- Also, you hear a lot of Ben being described as all limbs, but watching him walk away in the background here? Jesus, the boy is TRULY all limbs. Look at him! Flailing around. Playing catch with Balth, establishing them as friends. I am… like, still ALARMINGLY obsessed with this character, my god. I was just trying to see if we could hear what the group walking away were saying, I swear, lol.

- The blond guy who was standing with Balthazar in Balth’s clip in this video: Surf-Lifesaving Tony? Other Tony? Damien???

- “Exit stage right!” “It’s left, you moron!” Adieu for now, readers!

💖🦩🥭

#nmtd #nmtdaily #dogberry & verges #violivs nmtdaily liveblog #nmtd spoilers

7 notes · View notes

hannahwatcheshorror · 3 months ago

Text

READY OR NOT (2019)

💁‍♀️Strong Female Lead

A+ acting to all involved and our leading lady is a knockout. Aesthetically pleasing to look at, if not confusing at times but fun. (This film gives strong YOU’RE NEXT vibes.) Worth a watch and, dare I say, a rewatch down the line. Is the twist a little questionable? Yes, but so are rich people in general so I’m going to let it slide because, again, this movie was fun and continued to have something to say right up until the very end.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

The two main things I wasn’t prepared for in this film were the Satan worship and the fact that the bandolier of bullets was fake and didn’t actually help our lead at any point during the film (which is wild to me because it made such good promo photos), but I digress. We start out with the wedding, it is picturesque and something most people would die for (ha). Our happy bride, Grace, is missing some details that her new hubby, Alex, left out about his mega-rich family, like how they made a deal with the devil and now have to play killing games (sometimes? Sometimes it is just a card game, I guess). Grace obviously doesn’t take this well (hysterical women, am I right, fellas?) and is very mad at Alex! But there is no time for that because the game is afoot!

Grace realizes this is very real and very serious when one of the family members accidentally kills a maid (the cleaning staff are expendable, obviously) and Alex admits the crazy truth. There is a sort of tender moment when he says that he would have lost her if he didn’t agree to marry her and play the game and he is right which is crazy but also THIS IS CRAZY. I don’t fully understand why there is no way for the bride to win though, with the other games the new spouse can win or lose but Hide and Seek = Death no matter what? Who made that hard and fast rule (the devil, I guess, but work with me). Alex and Grace have to separate (because that will save her?) and Grace gets a gun and the bullet bandolier (sigh).

The bullets in the bandolier are fake and Grace is in trouble again almost immediately but luckily no one knows how to use the weapons they have (they were given out largely at random) so Grace is able to gracelessly slip by and Alex’s brother, Daniel, helps Grace out but only a little (he is only a little bit of a nice guy) and at this point all the maids have been killed by the family or the house. Outside now, Grace has a new chance to escape, and one of the kids fucking SHOOTS HER in the hand. WACK. She pops him good in the face and he’s down for the count, speaking of, Grace falls down into the body pit and just barely makes it out. (This scene has Resident Evil 7 all over it).

The butler tracks her down and she fights him for the car but drives away without killing him and all I could think was, “run him over.” “Hobble him.” Says Annie Wilkes from MISERY, but there is no way in hell I would have let that man follow me, I would have ran over his legs with that damn car. But that wasn’t in the script, so she had to get got by him again, get saved by brother Daniel, he then sacrifices himself, Grace bludgeons the mom to death, and then the OTHER twist! Alex turns on GRACE. Alex realizes that Grace doesn’t or won’t love him anymore so he grabs her and offers her up to his satanic family which is CRAZY. Grace has started to let out this ululating scream at this point from her voice being strained but also the sheer horror of the last person on earth she trusted betraying her and I FELT IT in my gut.

This primal screaming is kept up until nearly the end of the film, it comes from her chest and resonates in her throat. It has to hurt and it reminds me of the raw emotion from MIDSOMMAR. Finally the sun rises and all the evil family implode since they failed to give the sacrifice to big daddy Satan and Grace can’t help but smile.

She walks out of the burning building and smokes a cigarette.

Cut to black, end of movie.

3 notes · View notes

mattnben-bennmatt · 5 months ago

Text

Matt Damon's interview w/ Vanity Fair (December 1997)

Meet Matt Damon

Three of Hollywood’s top directors have decided that 27-year-old Harvard dropout Matt Damon is a star: Francis Ford Coppola gave him the lead in the latest Grisham adaptation, The Rainmaker, Steven Spielberg cast him in the title role in Saving Private Ryan, and Gus Van Sant directed him in Good Will Hunting, which the actor co-wrote. But, David Kamp discovers. Matt Damon himself is not so sure.

By David Kamp

This is how it works: a script is first sent to Chris O’Donnell and Leonardo DiCaprio. They pass. Then the secondtier actors reconvene, exchange familiar nods, and audition for the role that they hope will elevate them from their current station. Usually this role isn’t even any good, merely a preen-and-shout exercise in an expensively produced Hollywood infliction. But the actor who secures the part is assured offers and choices, while the also-rans are forced to scratch around for other work: made-for-cable movies, TV pilots, independent films about small-town white ethnics who wear their shirts untucked and say things like “Cut the shit, Frankie!”

Matt Damon was one of these also-rans, a scrubbed young kid with an Andover face who played schoolboys and soldiers in movies that were O.K. but never quite took. He was in School Ties, in which Brendan Fraser played a Jewish football recruit at an elite New England prep school, and Courage Under Fire, the Denzel Washington drama about the Gulf War.

By now, given the circumstances that bring us all together here, you’ve surmised that Damon is no longer an also-ran, and that something wonderful has happened to him. What happened was that he became the beneficiary of Francis Ford Coppola’s whim to cast an unknown as the lead in The Rainmaker, the latest film adaptation of a John Grisham book. On top of this, Damon stars as a character named Will Hunting in a movie entitled Good Will Hunting, Gus Van Sant’s first picture since To Die For, and plays Private Ryan in Saving Private Ryan, Steven Spielberg’s forthcoming World War II epic. So Matt Damon is suddenly big news, a star in the making, Hollywood’s face of tomorrow, etc., etc. There is “buzz” about him, and it’s my duty to observe that his career has “caught fire,” that he is “hot.” People who work in entertainment are already slurring his name nonchalantly, “M’daymun,” as if they’ve said it a million times and are exhausted by the sheer burden of advance-word knowingness. Matt Damon. M’daymun. Matthew McConaughDamon. He’s probably a wanker. Let’s find out.

‘Oh, hey, man, how you doin’? . . . Naw, I’m just here watching the game with the guy from Vanity [belch] Fair. . . . Yeah, look, I promise I’ll reread it, but if you want an answer now, I’m telling you probably not, because I read this script on the plane that blew me away, and it’s supposed to go at the same time as yours. It’s about a compulsive gambler. It’s written by a guy who is a compulsive gambler, I think. . . . No, so I think probably not, but look, this is for just this film, O.K.? Let’s keep talking for the future, O.K., man? ’Cause I’d like to work with you.”

He hangs up, dumbfounded. “I can’t believe I’m in a position where I have to turn down work. This has never happened,” he says. He’s of compact physique, with broad shoulders, sharp features, and short, mussed hair—he looks like an early Heisman winner.

“When did it start happening?” I ask.

“Just this past weekend,” Damon says. He is only recently back from England, where Saving Private Ryan is being filmed. We are drinking beer and watching football, and, appropriately, there is an air of beer-commercial wish fulfillment afoot, the kind of deal where two knuckleheads in a dorm room slam down their brewskis on top of the console and are magically transported poolside, where butlers and multiple facsimiles of Jayne Mansfield attend to them. Only it’s not nearly that decadent—we are simply luxuriating in a fancy hotel room in New York City on the dime of Miramax, which is releasing Good Will Hunting. Knucklehead Damon is not blasé about his four-star accommodations, self-consciously ordering “overpriced room-service food that I would never pay for myself” and reveling in the junkiest stuff in the mini-bar—the whole jar of cashews, the entire box of Lindt chocolate squares.

Knucklehead No. 2 is Ben Affleck, Damon’s best friend since their high-school days in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and the star of the recent, well-received independent films Chasing Amy and Going All the Way. Affleck is also in Good Will Hunting, playing, in fact, Will Hunting’s best friend. He joins us in Damon’s room, settles in with a beer, and trades stories with his buddy about the day’s big experience: getting fitted for their first-ever complimentary Movie Actor suits. They are attending a function the following evening. “The Gotham Awards? The Gotham . . . Independent Film . . . something?” says Damon. “I don’t know what it is, but they’re giving Harvey and Bob Weinstein some kind of award and we’re being brought along as sort of, you know, Miramax mascots.” The free suits are part of the deal.

Affleck has been to the V.I.P. showroom of Emporio Armani, where he was surprised to encounter a locked glass door with a receptionist behind it who at first wouldn’t let him in. “She motioned for me to pick up this phone on the wall to tell her who I was,” he says. “They’re afraid of Cunanan copycats—that’s my theory.”

“I went to Calvin Klein,” says Damon. “They tried all these things on me and said I looked very ‘fash.’ They promised me that I’ll look ‘fash.’”

The conversants are wearing jeans and dorky shoes—not so much bad style as pre-style: Hollywood taste hasn’t imposed itself on them yet, and their clothes still look mother-bought. They’re new at this, and it’s endearing. You come in prepared for the worst, a Stephen Dorff situation, wherein the hyped kid in the hotel room is sulky and has an off-duty goatee and smells of Gauloises and sits with such an extreme slump that his head is at armrest level and his groin points out at you. It’s nothing like that. These boys are nice knuckleheads.

Good Will Hunting is proof that Damon and Affleck are also intelligent knuckleheads—not an oxymoron, but an apt way to describe a 27-year-old and a 25-year-old who are by all appearances regular guys (neither emits imaginary Keith Haring rays of star quality, as Matthew McConaughey does), and who happen to have written the screenplay for the film in which they star. Yes, they are writer-actors, an uncommon skill combo among filmdom polymaths, and Good Will Hunting—the first thing they have ever written—is now a Gus Van Sant movie.

Will Hunting, Damon’s character, is a troublemaking Irish-American kid from South Boston who is discovered to be a math prodigy. An awed M.I.T. professor (Stellan Skarsgård) wants to take Will under his wing. He gets his chance when Will, on the brink of being jailed for his latest criminal offense, is sprung by the judge on the condition that the professor supervise him and enlist a psychotherapist to set the boy straight. Will resists the touchy-feelyisms of various therapists, until he meets his match in Dr. Sean Maguire (Robin Williams), himself a product of South Boston. This kid, you see, he’s . . . goodwill hunting.

It’s strangely gentle territory for a serial subversive like Van Sant, whose previous films are rife with casual criminality and sexual deviance. “I haven’t really had anyone I’ve shown it to not like the film, which is really unusual for me,” the director says. “I guess that before, I felt that portraying something out of the mainstream was a powerful way of telling a story. But this time the story itself was enough.”

Good Will Hunting is an engaging, comfortably inhabited small movie. That anyone has even bothered to make a film about two of Boston’s prominent milieus— its academic community and its most famously insular neighborhood—is gratifying enough, but Damon and Affleck have transcended the homeboy-homage genre of indie film that has given us Trees Lounge and Palookaville. The screenplay’s realistic handling of townie-student resentments is buttressed by the time Damon spent at Harvard; originally a member of the class of ’92, he remains two semesters short of graduating. As actors, Damon and Affleck avoid vanity shtick, and the cast responds in kind—particularly Williams, soothing and bearded as he was in Awakenings, and Minnie Driver, who plays Damon’s love interest and has since become his real-life girlfriend.

“To me it was just an extraordinary script,” says Williams. “It was quite shocking when I met Matt and Ben and saw how young they were—I was like ‘May I see some ID?’”

The Rainmaker I can’t tell you about with any authority, because it wasn’t finished at the time of this writing. But I can tell you what Mickey Rourke has told me. Mickey’s in The Rainmaker—mark my words, Mickey’s back—and he says, “Matt worked his ass off. Matt walked the walk. And Francis showed a lot of love on the set. Francis is good with young kids.”

It’s not all leather trousers and kissing Bridget Hall, being a boy actor. The road to The Rainmaker was paved with near misses and self-worth crises. “I’d have taken Robin,” Damon says, alluding to Batman Forever. “Hell, I auditioned for it. When they first offered it to Chris O’Donnell he wanted more money, so they had auditions and I did a screen test for Joel Schumacher. Primal Fear—you know the Edward Norton role? It more or less came down to him and me, and he pretty much put a smokin’ on me. To Die For I lost nearly 20 pounds to audition for, but Wock got it.” (“Wock” is his friend Joaquin Phoenix.)

Damon’s first role of consequence was in School Ties, in 1992. A poor but not altogether worthless cousin of Dead Poets Society, the movie had a young cast that also included Brendan Fraser, Chris O’Donnell, Randall Batinkoff, Cole Hauser, and Affleck. Damon was effectively first among the featured performers, playing a moneyed “legacy” student whose anti-Semitism and resentment of Fraser’s character bring about the film’s climax. But he was not to be the first of the gang called up from the minors.

“Scent of a Woman happened right during School Ties. The whole cast went down to audition for it,” says Damon. “Chris O’Donnell was a business major at Boston College, and he’s a very savvy businessman. So the way I found out about the part is, I’m checking in with my agent, to see if anything good has come in, and my agent says, ‘Here’s one with a young role, and . . . Oh my God, it’s got Al Pacino in it!’ So I go up to Chris and say, ‘Have you heard about this movie?’ and he says [curtly] ‘Yeah.’ So I say, ‘Do you have the script?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Can I see it?’ ‘No—I kinda need it.’ Chris wouldn’t give it to anybody. Later, Ben, me, Randall, Brendan, Anthony Rapp—we’re all commiserating about our auditions, talking about how they didn’t go well. Except for Chris. Chris used to play things close to the vest. We asked him how his audition went, and he just said [highpitched, Hibernian singsong], ‘Ohhh, it was all right.’ And we were like ‘Dude! Just tell us how it went!’ And he would say [singsong again], ‘Ohhh, I don’t know.’”

While O’Donnell went on to become Hollywood’s literal and figurative Boy Wonder, Damon and Affleck found themselves in a wilderness of spotty work and tenuous finances, sharing a two-bedroom apartment on Curson Avenue in L.A. with a third friend from Cambridge. Affleck and two other School Ties veterans, Hauser and Rapp, found jobs playing oily adolescents in��Dazed and Confused, Richard Linklater’s winning evocation of the mid-70s. As a result there developed an overlapping School Ties—Dazed and Confused coterie of underemployed young actors: Damon, Affleck, Hauser, Rory Cochrane (the latter film’s lovable stoner), and Matthew McConaughey, dead-on as Dazed and Confused’s over-age, breezily malevolent parasite on the town’s high-school scene.

“When Matthew got A Time to Kill, we all went nuts,” says Damon. “It was such a feeling of vindication—that one of our peer group, someone not on the A-list, got the part.”

Damon’s ticket out of obscurity was last year’s Courage Under Fire, in which he delivered an attention-grabbing performance as a soldier who witnesses something horrible in Kuwait and, thus traumatized, becomes a heroin addict. Damon lost 40 pounds for that role and became, literally, anorectic. “I was under 2 percent body fat,” he says. “I remember seeing Lou Diamond Phillips”—whose boxing-ring scenes in the movie reveal a perfectly sculpted torso—“and thinking, God, if I looked like that I wouldn’t take my shirt off. I thought he looked fat!” He produces an unsettling snapshot of himself from this era, smoking a cigarette and holding up a packet of ExLax. He looks like Chet Baker about to die.

Health be damned, Damon believes that the extreme measures for Courage Under Fire were well worth it. “It was a business decision,” he says. “I thought, Nobody will take this role, because it’s too small. If I go out of my way to make something of this role . . .” At this point he cites the punchdrunk performance of Benicio Del Toro in The Usual Suspects. “He’s killed early into the movie and he probably has, like, nine lines. But I found it the most memorable performance of 1995. The guy just goes out and thinks, No one’s gonna understand what I’m doing except for me, but I’m a fuckin’ genius. For me, I was sick of reading scripts that Chris O’Donnell had passed on, and I was looking for something to set me apart: ‘Look what I’ll do, I’ll kill myself!’ Directors took note of it.”

Indeed, Damon’s performance impressed Coppola enough that he cast him in The Rainmaker. The out-of-nowhere notoriety this accorded Damon prodded Miramax to push Good Will Hunting into production. And when Good Will Hunting was shooting on location in Boston last spring, Williams invited Damon along to visit Spielberg, who was in town to film scenes for his slave-ship-revolt movie, Amistad. “I’d auditioned by tape for Saving Private Ryan, but Steven thought I still looked like I did in Courage Under Fire,” Damon says. “So when he actually saw me, he saw that I didn’t look that way anymore, and that’s what made the difference.”

Inevitably the topic of nascent stardom arises and, equally inevitably, Damon demurs. It’s a “lofty assumption,” he says, that the Coppola—Van Sant—Spielberg trifecta will make him a star; it could all blow over in a year’s time. “I won’t be Matthew McConaughey,” he says. “I’m not as good-looking as him. I’m certainly never going to be anyone’s sex symbol.”

Here the conversation takes a turn for the meta-, becoming all about the impact of this article and the photos that will accompany it, and how celebrity is lovely if it helps you get better work, but is also a tricky bugaboo larded with unseemly implications. Ed Harris, Damon concludes. That’s the kind of life he’d like, being a good actor like Ed Harris, well regarded but not overpaid or stalked by anyone. Damon makes no attempt to veil his disdain for Hollywood, proclaiming himself “an East Coast person” who will one day settle down in his native Boston area; for now, he has no fixed address and lives in Cole Hauser’s apartment near L.A.’s Griffith Park.

You could argue that Damon is being pre-emptive, just in case things don’t work out these next few months. But his conviction strikes me as genuine. He can’t fathom, for example, the notion of eightfigure salaries. “Chris O’Donnell made $10 million last year. [Again, more deliberately] Chris . . . O’Donnell . . . made 10 . . . million . . . dollars last year. Now, if I made $10 million last year, I would not be sitting here with you. No offense. Unless you and I were friends and you wanted to hang out with me and help me spend my $10 million. Shit, man, give me five million bucks once—that’s $500,000 a year for the rest of your life if you invest it. I can’t spend that much money. Not the way I live.” (For the record, Damon says that his average take-home pay for The Rainmaker, Good Will Hunting, and Saving Private Ryan was “significantly under half a million per picture.”)

Damon’s upbringing was progressiveliberal even by Cambridge standards. As a child, he was taken on tours of South Boston by his mother’s longtime boyfriend, who had driven one of the hated buses that delivered black kids to white schools in Southie in the mid-70s. When Damon was 10, he, his mother, and his older brother, Kyle, moved into an experimental cooperative house. “About six families bought a broken-down house in Central Square and rebuilt it,” he says. “It was governed by a shared philosophy that housing is a basic human right. Every week there was the three-hour community meeting, and Sundays were workdays. My mom put little masks on me and my brother, gave us goggles and crowbars, and we demo’d the walls.”

Damon positively beams when he speaks of his mother. When I ask if I can give her a call, he agrees and advises me that she is “nice, you’ll like her, she’s really touchyfeely”—which I later surmise to be his way of saying I love her dearly, but her value system skews somewhat to the left of mine.

Damon’s mother, Nancy Carlsson-Paige, is a professor of early-childhood education at Lesley College in Cambridge, and she forthrightly discusses her discomfort with her son’s impending celebrity. “I’m not happy about it, particularly,” she says. “What happens in a consumer society is that people become objects of attention in a way that doesn’t seem healthy to society. I’m happy that Matt is happy in his work, but I’m not convinced he has to be on the cover of a magazine about it. It’s a little hard for me to accept. It’s all so out of the ordinary that I worry he might not grow as I want him to.” For an unreconstructed leftist whose son has pledged allegiance to the Entertainment State, these difficult quandaries arise frequently. “It was hard for me to go to the set of Courage Under Fire,” she continues. “I was deeply against the Gulf War, and I didn’t know how the film was going to pan out politically.”

So it’s settled then. We have come here to celebrate the launch of Matt Damon, actor, not Matt Damon, celebrity. We shall not torment him with shallow appraisals of his love life. We shall not murmur that he looks kinda fat or suspiciously thin in that photo we saw in People magazine’s “Star Tracks” section. We shall leave him alone to develop his craft and indulge him in his use of that word, craft. We shall take into account that he is still learning.

“I think Marlon Brando has done more to destroy this generation of actors,” he says, referring to his own generation, “because, with the whole marble-mouth thing— the I-don’t-give-a-fuck mentality—what people overlook is that when the dude was my age he was the hardest-working man in show business. He was onstage, he was busting his ass with Stella Adler, he was obsessed with acting. When people say, ‘I just want to be fat and live in Fiji and have everyone tell me I’m a genius,’ they’re not looking at what it actually takes to get there.”

#matt damon #ben affleck #chris o'donnell #nancy paige #school ties #courage under fire #good will hunting #the rainmaker #saving private ryan #on fame #on acting #on politics #on mental health #on appearance #interview #variety fair #1997 #originals

3 notes · View notes