#but i appreciate that marty went there as much as he did
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Killers of the Flower Moon plainly portrayed the casual violence that has historically upheld whiteness in this country, and so the subsequent shutout at the Oscars is the most unsurprising thing ever.
#oscars 2024#lily gladstone#killers of the flower moon#honesty does not get you oscars#but lily gave the best performance of the year#know that#did it do it perfectly? no#but i appreciate that marty went there as much as he did#the academy prefers green book and driving miss daisy fantasies#they always have
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.
Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?
You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.
It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw."
He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"
He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"
"Yeah."
"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."
Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."
---------------------------
After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.
It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.
But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?
You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.
It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.
Bradley,
I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.
Yours Truly,
Your favorite pen pal
Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.
But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.
You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.
Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos.
You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.
"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"
You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.
"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?
After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.
"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."
The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.
"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.
The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.
You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land.
Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.
Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.
I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you.
Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.
-----------------------------
After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.
He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.
As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck.
There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.
Bradley,
I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.
I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable.
You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.
Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.
Hitting send before I can change my mind.
Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.
-----------------------------
"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.
"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.
"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."
"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.
"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.
You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.
At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of the fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.
After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested in him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.
Hey, Gorgeous,
Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?
I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually.
Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.
You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
---------------------------
Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 5
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x you#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#yours truly bradley bradshaw
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Could you please do a pepe marti story where you’re both curled up under a blanket, sharing earbuds, listening to a song that means everything to them. “this part,” they whisper, right before the lyrics hit, “makes me think of you.”
pepe martí x reader, established relationship
~"this part, makes me think of you"
It was a rather tough period for the two of them. They were juggling their first university sessions, feeling the winter creeping in like a cold caress down their spines.
During a break, she had decided to book a flight that would take her to Pepe, tired but thrilled at the idea of balancing his Formula 2 season with his courses.
Before long, her subway pass for commuting to campus was replaced by running around the house, chasing each other like maniacs. Her jeans and serious-looking coat gave way to an old pair of sweatpants and a shirt she’d conveniently stolen from Pepe.
There was something magical about spending time with that boy, without a care in the world, talking about ten thousand things while binging nerdy movies. They never seemed to run out of things to say. They jumped from one topic to another—whether he was on the simulator and she was at the desk, or one of them sat on the bed while the other worked on a puzzle he’d been gifted but never had the time to finish.
“God, this smells,” she said, pulling out a shirt he often wore from a neatly folded pile of clothes.
Pepe grabbed the shirt instinctively, sniffing it to see if it smelled of sweat or if he’d forgotten to wash it. But it just smelled like his cologne.
“I wore it when I went to the restaurant with Mom,” he said, knowing full well she’d detect even the faintest extra spritz of fragrance.
“Yesterday, I was talking with Christian about how Gabi loves it when he puts cologne on her.”
“I hate cologne.”
“You don’t hate it,” said the Spaniard, arms crossed behind his neck, watching her search for something to wear after washing her hair.
“I simply prefer your natural smell,” she shrugged, opting to stick with the damp shirt she’d had on before climbing onto the bed and resting her head on Pepe’s lap.
He laughed, jokingly cupping her face with one hand, knowing he could always draw out one of those stunning smiles he loved so much. His hand drifted down to run through her hair.
“I should be studying chemistry,” she said, looking up at him from where she lay, noticing how he’d let his hair grow out and how, despite his packed schedule, he didn’t show a trace of fatigue.
“Want me to help you?”
How many times, before she started university, had he stayed up late, even with a race the next day, to help her with math homework? He’d patiently explain things, occasionally losing himself, and every time he did, she’d ace her exams anyway.
“I guess I’ll just procrastinate,” she said, turning to hug one of his legs and closing her eyes, feeling too cozy to start studying.
But Pepe, knowing she’d feel guilty later if she didn’t study as planned, sat up and suggested something.
“Go get your chem going, and I’ll do some laps on the sim,” he said. “Then we can play a game—your pick.”
She looked at him with one of those playful smiles, her sweet-smelling hair brushing his face as she leaned in to kiss his nose.
“God, I love you.”
The driver headed to his simulator, calling Christian and their friends to stream a quick race, while she sat at the kitchen table, firing up her computer to dive into genetics. It was a subject she’d always loved and still appreciated, despite the overwhelming workload, making it easy for her to retain the information.
There was something about him living life at 300 kilometers per hour while maintaining the kindness and purity that defined him, and her dedicating her life to her studies, finding fulfillment primarily through her achievements that tied her down. Perhaps, deep down, those two worlds complemented each other, meeting between Grand Prix weekends and bonding over their wildly different interests.
“I don’t want to be nosy, but if you can, be quiet,” said the Spaniard into his mic, gripping the simulator wheel as he drove a road car on the Nürburgring.
“You know us—when we beat you, it’ll be anything but quiet.”
“Come on, she’s studying,” he smiled shyly into the camera, his eyes fixed on the screen, wearing blue-light glasses.
Corner after corner, the Spaniard proved to be the fastest, barely trailing one of the bots. Meanwhile, she repeated key concepts aloud, her table covered in textbooks, notes, and a forgotten mug of tea amidst the papers. Pepe’s plan to separate into two rooms was paying off; hours later, he emerged victorious from the tournament with his friends and colleagues, and she, when she felt his hands on her shoulders, had already studied a third of what she needed to prepare over the next two weeks.
“Fancy a little break?”
“It’s interesting how you get me to study and then do the opposite,” she smiled, jotting down a few last notes and turning to him, realizing she did need a break despite feeling like she could keep going.
“I didn’t do much today, so I might as well waste the last hours with you.”
“Waste your time with me?” she raised an eyebrow.
He nodded, teasing her with that special smile of his, before flopping onto the couch and motioning for her to join him.
“Bed to bed, couch to couch,” she sang, parodying Smooth Operator as she referred to their lazy day. The day before, he’d taken her on a lovely walk in a place he knew, and the next day, they were planning a day trip.
He shrugged, smiling, knowing full well he wouldn’t do anything productive anyway, and opened his arms for her to cuddle up beside him.
They spent some time in silence, her head resting on his chest, his hand gently stroking her hair as they both closed their eyes to rest. Then, as they often did, she opened the book she was reading in her spare time and accepted one of the earbuds Pepe handed her to listen to some music.
Sometimes, it was her playlist—eclectic and adaptable to any mood. Other times, it was his, secretly curated just for her. A mix of vintage tunes, songs they’d heard on trips, and new tracks she loved discovering while close to him and immersed in a good book.
As she recognized the notes of a song her dad often played when reminiscing about his younger days, she looked at Pepe, who was rubbing his eyes.
“For real?” she asked, feigning boredom, even though she was the first to love ’80s music and its vibes.
“Classic,” he replied, humming along as she chuckled, pulling her legs up and wrapping herself around his athletic frame.
“This part,” said the Spaniard as the second verse began.
This is the sound
Always slipping from my hands
Sand’s a time of its own
Take your seaside arms and write the next line
Oh, I want the truth to be known
“Makes me think of you,” he whispered.
Through every high and low, there was something that kept him going beyond his passion for racing. That something was seeing her smile under the podium or hearing her sweet words when he returned to the garage. Teaching her math, urging her to study when he knew she’d regret not doing so, and spending lazy days together at home.
What an incurable romantic.
~ not proofread or anything, I feel like I can't capture anything well anymore... anywayss let me know :)
(it's so shorttt)
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...with the big iron on his hip
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: marty robbins - "big iron"
summary: he's not the first to go after the crystal-eyed bandit, but something tells you that this one will keep his promise to buy you a drink when the hunting is done. (cowboy!suguru x you)
wc: 2.47k
cw/tags: western!au, implied fem!reader but gn pronouns used, reader is called pretty and darlin', strangers to lovers (??), descriptions of alcohol, drinking, and general lawlessness
note: yayy another @ficsforgaza installation, this time for @strawberrystepmom <33 thank you so much for donating to help palestinians, i know i went WAY over the word count but i hope you enjoy this anyway!
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!
“You heard about Death riding in this morning?”
“I was told he got back from the east a few days ago. Some business with the big banks,” you reply, your voice a careful volume. Your effort is hardly needed, though, as the saloon was reaching its rowdiest hours of the evening; the smell of chewing tobacco and questionable choices was enough of an indicator. As the bar girls’ heels click-clack on the stage, you wipe the dust off a clean glass and pour its whiskey without another thought, sliding it across the bar.
“Oh, rest assured he did,” says the other bartender, Davey, a jolly-mustached man of about 60 who’d run this saloon since before your parents settled in this town. “But, word is there’s another outlaw loose and runnin’ now. Rode in on a big, black stallion, he did. Old Man Leonard swears the sun done shrunk away from rising.” You roll your eyes with patient affection, listening diligently to Davey ramble on about the rumors surrounding the newcomer. “I’m serious! ‘Stallion black as death,’ that’s what old Lenny said. You trust my word or not?”
“I believe you, I believe you. Though, you did spout a lot of nonsense ‘bout the window creeper last week, too,” you chuckle, holding up your palms in surrender. Davey tuts with a pout, muttering something about you never listening to his warnings anymore. “I wasn’t aware you were cautioning me of anything, Davey. It’s not like I’m gonna go looking for the guy.” You knew the town was a familiar stomping ground for all sorts of no-good creatures, jail breakers and tax collectors and bounty hunters alike. Word of your saloon’s neutrality spread among the underground because of its ‘whiskey or weapons’ policy where no man could carry a firearm through the batwing doors and still be served a drink. Hence, as volatile as the patrons were, honor among thieves guaranteed the saloon the ideal place for meetings and deals. Davey, relishing in the booming business it brought in, didn’t seem to mind the reputation.
“You best believe I’m cautioning you,” he insists, waggling a finger. “Whether you like it or not, you always seem to attract the eye of the most vile manner of people.”
“I do not–” A drunken shout cuts your indignance short, a slurred exclamation of Who the Devil is that!
As if on cue, the saloon falls into silence broken only by the sound of creaking floorboards. The girls on stage crowd up the staircase, hiding in the shadows; a stack of poker chips topples over at a corner table.
“When have you known me to be wrong,” Davey mutters, his question becoming more of a statement as the wood continues to groan under the steps of the interloper. Knowing that the saloon guests would be looking to him to react, his tense demeanor is replaced by warmth before you can blink. “What happened to the music, boys? The night’s just beginning!” He calls out to the band, who immediately begin plucking their banjos and dancing across the keys of the out-of-tune upright piano. Normal cacophony continues with an uproar, drowning out the sound of approaching boots until he’s right in front of you.
“You got a beer, darlin’?” For a moment, you’re a rabbit with its foot caught as a coyote stalks closer. His cowboy hat casts the upper half of his face in shadow, revealing nothing but a poisonously sweet mouth. You can feel his eyes analyze you, though, and it takes a few seconds and a deep breath to remember who’d been in this town longer. Outlaw or not, you had the high ground in this saloon.
“No sir, not a good one,” you admit. “All the best’s kept in the cellar where it can stay cold and I ain’t going down there this time of night. Davey’s old wife haunts it after the sun goes down.”
“You afraid of ghosts?”
“Oh, no sir,” you correct him quickly and his eyes narrow, ever so slightly. “She’s very much alive, which I am of the opinion is scarier than if she was trapped in a different realm.” Your quip has amused him, enough for his gaze to soften and the corner of his mouth to turn up. He lifts his head and you’re introduced to a pair of dark eyes, framed by equally dark hair that you guess falls just above his shoulder blades. The man is devilishly handsome, and a voice in the back of your mind that suspiciously sounds like Davey issues more warnings than you can fathom. You ignore them on account of wanting to figure out what about this man made the saloon of outlaws, even for a second, fearful. “Somethin’ else I can get you?”
“Bourbon’ll do.” You pour it mechanically, watching him out of the corner of your eye. Something stops you before you slide it over to him, something akin to instinct. His face remains unchanged as you hold his glass hostage, looking at him expectantly with an open palm.
“You got payment for me, cowboy?”
“This work for payment? Also, not a cowboy.” He fishes something from his pants, flashing a silver star that you know all too well is the symbol of a ranger. “If not, I’ll be happy to take out a loan. I’ll pay it off before I leave in a few days, anyhow.” He’s of the law, then, you think to yourself with raised eyebrows, remembering the fact that he was hiding the authority in his pocket. Well, as much as you can be in these parts. Must need to dirty his hands a little bit to get his work done. You pretend to appraise the badge before nodding, handing him the drink. He takes a sip and triumphantly inspects the liquor swirling.
“Up to your standards?”
“I believe it’s not the drink but rather who pours it,” he drawls with a smirk. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”
“I could ask the same thing of you,” you counter, matching his cunning smile. “I’m assuming you’re the stranger who rode in on Death’s horse early this morning?”
“The horse’s name is Wormy.” You snort unexpectedly and he huffs out a quiet laugh before continuing. “But, yes. That was me this morning. Like I said, I don’t plan on staying a while, and I believe you could help me with that.” A ranger in your town scaring everyone half to death. Pieces click together in your head and it’s not long before you realize his mission. Who else would he be here for?
“You want the crystal-eyed bandit.”
“You know him as a bandit, I know him as a kid whose corrupt family successfully tainted his mind. I’m here to get him out–”
“Or die trying?”
“Definitely not the plan,” he says with a shake of his head. “If he doesn’t come willingly, I’ll kill him. Plain and simple.” You admired his earnestness, but also allowed the skepticism to show on your face, something that the stranger takes note of. “You think I won’t be able to get him.”
“You’re not the first one to come through town on a hunt and I’m sure you won’t be the last,” you state with complete honesty. “20 men have tried and failed. Who’s to say you won’t become number 21?”
“I’m talkin’ to you and that’s a better start than any of the other guys had.”
“How so?”
“Something tells me that you’ve been wanting out of here for a long time, now,” he assumes and it’s your turn for your eyes to narrow.
“You don’t know anything about me, cowboy.”
“Not a cowboy,” he replies automatically, quickly getting back on track lest he lose your precious attention. “See, I don’t know much about you, but I do know that our bandit can’t resist pulling others into his schemes, especially ones who aren’t too sore on the eyes.” In any other scenario, such overt flirtation would result in his immediate expulsion from the premises, but you find yourself intrigued by what he has to offer you.
“You think I’m in leagues with outlaws because of how I look?”
“I think you’re forced into said leagues because of your position of employment,” the ranger says. “You’re his ears, aren’t you? You’re the reason he knows the dirt on the residents in this town, because you receive that dirt and relay it to him. It’s also,” his voice drops to a dangerous octave, “why he isn’t here right now…at this bar…in this seat.” You meet the challenge in his eyes, neither confirming nor denying what he’d declared was true. By some way or another, he knew much more than he let on. He knew you lied to Davey about not seeing him ride in early this morning; he knew you promptly told the bandit of a newcomer in town who could rival his control; he could tell you hesitated to slide the bourbon over to him because it was the wrong body on the stool.
“When’d you gather all this information if you’d just rode in this morning?” He lifts his eyebrows expectantly, like you knew the answer to your own question. Your mouth opens slightly in realization and you whistle in admiration. “That was you giving us a fright last week? The monster creeping around the windows that everyone swears they saw but didn’t have proof? Your reconnaissance methods became a tall tale around here.” The ranger hums, taking another sip from his glass. “So, what’s my part to play in your plans? I tell you where he is, you go in and shoot him, I stay put and keep my mouth shut?”
“Nope, I want you to bring him a message.”
“That being…?”
“An old friend wants to duel,” he says cryptically. “Tomorrow at dawn. Do that for me,” he continues, “and I’ll give you half the bounty.” Your eyes grow larger than the wagon wheels outside. Half the bounty was more than you made in three months and would be more than enough to get you out of this town of scum for good. Before you let your hopes run too rampant, a lingering question pushes itself to the forefront of your mind.
“Why do you need my help to do this? Why not just ambush him?”
“I’d like to take him out fairly, let it be a true show of who’s stronger.” The man continues to sense your hesitation and another question appears.
“I don’t even know your name,” you point out.
“Call me Suguru. Ranger only in name, not practice. My superiors would be disappointed if they knew half of my bounty suddenly disappeared in the hands of the pretty bartender at the saloon.” He thinks I’m pretty? Before thinking twice, you nod in understanding and he flashes a grin, standing up to leave. “We have a deal?”
“I’ll do it,” you begin, “but that’s all assuming you’re successful, cowboy.” The ranger’s face becomes even more satisfied, like returning to you was the easiest part of his challenge.
“Not a cowboy, and just trust me,” Suguru responds confidently. “Both our futures are riding on this, so I’d be damned if I screwed it up!”
—
“You’re late,” you deadpan to the approaching footsteps in front of you. You’re holding the lead of Suguru’s black stallion and your new Pinto, a parting gift from Davey for all your years of service. Get the hell out of here, he’d said through fatherly tears, an affectionate hand on your shoulder. Find a new life and a new adventure with that ranger of yours.
“My apologies,” he drawls, stepping into the dim light of your oil lamp. “Couldn’t find my ranger badge.”
“Did it turn up?” He shakes his head, unexpectedly unbothered. “You don’t seem in anguish over it.”
“Mmm, far from it. I don’t plan on wearing it again once I turn in these, anyway,” Suguru says, holding up the small burlap sack containing two crystal-blue eyeballs. “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you, before we left. I was working up the courage while I was rummaging around for the star.” You hum thoughtfully, adjusting one more strap on the saddle before sticking the front of your foot in the stirrup. You accept Suguru’s hand of assistance and mount your horse with ease. Beneath you, he gazes up like he was staring at a bright full moon.
“Can we discuss as we ride out of here? I’m itching to get a move on.” He accepts your request without another word and swings himself onto his horse, following your pace as you trot slowly down the empty street. Just a day ago, this very street was where the notorious crystal-eyed bandit was shot down in a duel with the man riding beside you. His swiftness left you awestruck and you heard the shot before registering that he’d pulled his gun, the bandit’s body falling into the dust. “How many days’ ride is it to where you collect the bounty?”
“We can get there in three if the weather is agreeable.” Your conversation falls silent, both of you formulating questions and answers and waiting for the other to make the first move. Swallowing his pride and clearing his throat, Suguru decides to act first. “You wanna ask why I’m not wearing the badge after this bounty.”
“That a statement or a question, cowboy?”
“Not a cowboy, but it’s a fact and whatever you make of it,” he shrugs. “Truth is, I’m not really sure what I’m going to do now that I’ve completed the only hunt I really cared about.” You nod, encouraging him to continue as he shifts awkwardly in his saddle. “So, if you’d let me…would you let me keep you under my protection, wherever the wind takes you?”
“You want to stay…with me?” You echo his proposition with a flutter in your stomach and a racing heart. “Wherever the wind takes me, you wanna be there with me,” you reiterate, seeking confirmation that he gives wholeheartedly.
“A ranger’s name can still have some standing,” he explains, incorrectly believing that you still need convincing. “And the darker circles I’m in respect me as a bounty hunter, so I can get you to basically wherever you want to go–” You pull your horse around perpendicular to his, stopping you both in your tracks.
“I already agreed to your proposition, Geto Suguru, so stop talkin’ before I change my mind,” you tease, unable to wipe the smile from your face. He hits you with that poisonously sweet grin again, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
“If I may,” Suguru says as the sun starts to peek over the desert landscape, “your cowboy would like to know where it is he’ll be escorting you next.”
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#fics for gaza#geto x you#geto x reader#geto x y/n#suguru x you#suguru x reader#suguru x y/n#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jjk au#jjk western!au
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Can Anybody See Me? Part 10
Hey...you know how I said I had another fic I was working on that I planned on putting up the first part for today? Yeah...that didn’t work out. It needed a lot of heavy editing and because this got finished today with only minor edits, you get this instead.
Also...I realized that until this part...I never mentioned the name of the musical they’re doing. Ooops!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
*
To say Steve was nervous as hell would be an understatement. He had been in drama less than a month and now he was standing on the stage watching people mill around. And there was a lot of people. People who were taking measurements for costumes. Makeup and wigs people. Apparently kids from orchestra and band were going to be playing the music in the ‘pit’. Then there were people working on sets and up in the rafters checking the lights.
He had been to couple of plays on Broadway when he was younger. Of course he had. But he never knew how much went into making it look like magic when he was sitting in the audience.
A girl came up to him and squeezed his elbow.
“You’re Steve Harrington, right?” she asked.
Steve nodded, tongue tied from the sheer panic running through his body.
“I’m Janice Montgomery,” she said gently. “You’re friends with Gareth and them?”
Steve nodded again. “You must be the badass chick of the Hellfire Club.”
Janice grinned. “Oh good, you have heard of me.”
“A middle schooler I babysit for’s younger sister looves D&D so I try to talk you up as much as possible to piss her brother off,” he explained with a grin.
She laughed out loud. “Thanks. But I understand that this is your first time doing a play?”
“Acting in front of other people full stop,” Steve said, nodding.
Her eyes went wide and she tilted her head forward. “Please tell me you at least did the school play in elementary about the benefits of healthy eating.”
Steve scratched his face nervously. “Uh...that would be a no.”
“Fuck.”
Steve hung his head. “I really shouldn’t be here.”
She shoved his arm. “Miss Lucy isn’t the type of teacher to play favorites. Thomson isn’t a large role with a lot of blocking. Mostly standing in front of everyone else reading and being annoyed.”
Steve laughed. “I could do that, yeah.”
“See? You’ll do fine. You’ll dance for the major numbers, and then that heart-wrenching scene at the end.”
“Yeah, I auditioned with that scene, because it has both the singing and the acting in it.”
“Wow,” Janice said. “That’s impressive.”
Steve blushed. “Another middle schooler I babysit is in the drama club and asked him for pointers.”
“Well at least you know how to strategize,” she said. “Marty and I will help walk you through it. If have any questions come to either of us, okay?”
He nodded. “Thanks for this.”
The spot light lit them up and they both squealed from the sudden brightness.
Janice held up her hand over her eyes and screamed, “Eddie!”
Steve heard him cackle before the brightness was severely toned down. And then Eddie dropped down in front of them, landing deftly on the stage.
“Mr Munson!” Miss Lucy called out. “I appreciate your grace as much as the next person, but one day you will break straight through this old stage and the school will not replace it.”
“Harsh, Miss Lucy!” he called back.
She chuckled darkly and went back to her notes.
“That was cool,” Steve murmured.
Eddie grinned. “She is right about the stage though. I don’t think they’ve redone it since it was put in god knows how long ago.”
Steve smiled.
Janice raised an eyebrow and then cleared her throat.
Eddie turned to her. “Congrats on getting Abby, Miss Montgomery.”
“I just can’t believe Tammy Thompson got Martha Jefferson,” Janice complained.
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of hearing her,” Steve said.
“You’ll hear her a lot,” Eddie said. “She has a song in the second act.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
Eddie and Janice just stared at him.
“Or not...”
They burst out laughing.
“Hey, guys!” Marty said jogging up to them.
Everyone returned greetings of their own.
“So...I found out how Tammy got the part...” he said with a grimace.
“Oh no...” Eddie said. “This can’t be good.”
“Her mom is a seamstress and has offered to make all the costumes for free as well rent the wigs for a low price.”
Janice stamped her foot angrily. “With an offer like that I’m surprised she didn’t gun for my role.”
Steve looked between them confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Have you not seen 1776?” Marty asked.
Eddie and Janice turned to him and stared at him as though he had grown an extra head.
“Um...” Steve stammered, “well...I’ve been meaning to and I just haven’t got around to it, yet.” He scratched his cheek nervously.
“You mean to tell us,” Eddie said slowly, “that not only did you try out for a play you haven’t seen, you managed to get a fairly major roll for said play?”
Steve nodded, blushing a deep red.
“That’s it!” Marty cried. “You coming over to my house and we are watching it!”
Steve frowned. “How are we going to do that? I didn’t know they put plays on VHS.”
Marty clapped his shoulder. “You are in luck my friend because they did movie several years ago.”
“I guess...” Steve said shyly. “I’ll come over on one condition.”
Janice and Marty exchanged a knowing glance.
“What would that be?” Janice asked innocently.
“If Eddie comes too?” Steve bit the bottom of his lip and looked up at Eddie through his eyelashes.
Eddie blinked. “As long as it not on a Hellfire night, I’m down.”
Steve smiled softly.
“Is tonight good?” Marty asked.
Janice shook her head. “I work tonight.”
Steve shifted back and forth on his feet. “We could do it tomorrow at my place. My parents aren’t home and I have a big screen TV.”
“Sold!” Marty said.
“Yeah, man,” Eddie said rocking back on his heels. “That sounds cool.”
“I’ll bring the tape, Marty will provide drinks and Eddie the popcorn,” Janice said.
Steve looked uncomfortable. “You don’t have bring anything I’m sure I’ve plenty of stuff.”
Eddie wagged his finger at him. “Ah, ah, ah, Harrington. That’s not how movie nights work. Host merely hosts. Everyone else provides.”
Steve blushed. “Yeah, okay. Then you guys can explain the Tammy Thompson drama.”
Marty clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “It’s is sooo good.”
Steve just laughed.
“All right everyone!” Miss Lucy said. “It’s time for the read through. Mr Kincade, Mr Munson if you wouldn’t mind helping set up chairs?”
Marty and Eddie nodded. They gathered up as much seating as they could find. Those that didn’t have any lines sat in the audience around Miss Lucy, Mrs Lawson the dance teacher, and Mr Dent the choir teacher.
Steve pulled out his script and waited for his first line.
Eddie sat in the audience and Marty flopped down next to him.
“You’ve got it bad,” he said, nudging Eddie with his elbow. “He know about your proclivities toward members of your own sex?”
Eddie winced. “Tommy called me a fag often enough, but no. I don’t think he knows.”
Marty patted him on the shoulder. “You probably should tell him.”
*
Everyone showed up at Steve’s house around seven. Marty having picked Eddie and Janice up.
“I got some candy anyway,” Steve said as he led the way to the front room.
Marty and Eddie just shook their heads.
Janice rolled her eyes but they wisely said nothing. They all got set up and sprawled out on the couches.
Steve hit play and lost himself in the music. He laughed at the funny bits swooned when he supposed to, and got teary eyed at “Mamma, Look Sharp.”
“You clearly enjoyed that,” Marty said.
“It was good,” Steve said. “Not very historically accurate, though, right?”
Eddie grinned. “Nope. Barely even close. But it’s fun and over the top.”
“It certainly is that,” Steve chuckled.
“Okay,” Janice said rubbing her hands together manically. “Who’s hotter: Thomas Jefferson or Lyman Hall?”
Eddie tapped his finger on his lips. “Jefferson. Love the lighter hair and tall.”
Marty crowed. “Red heads are hot, but gotta give it to my man, Lyman Hall. When he slams Georgia’s vote to yay...mhmmm...that’s some good shit.”
Steve frowned. “You’re both wrong.” All heads turned to him in shock. “Charles Thomson and not just because that’s who I’m playing.”
“You think Thomson is better looking than Hall?” Marty asked, dismayed. “You can’t mean that.”
Steve shrugged. “Hall’s good looking, sure. Soft spoken, too. But there is just something about how the actor portrayed Thomson that just brought this strength that Hall didn’t have.”
Steve blushed. “Plus Jefferson is married and I don’t look at taken people. No matter how hot they are.”
Eddie leaned forward and put his fingers to his lips. “Steve, I need to you to be honest with us. We aren’t going to judge or flip out but...do you like like boys?”
Steve blinked. “I never really thought about it. I thought it was normal to talk about how attractive other dudes are. Me and Tommy did it all the time.”
Marty and Eddie shared a concerned glance.
Janice shook her head. ‘That’s not something straight boys do.”
“Then why were you asking us about who was more attractive?”
“Because we deemed you safe,” Marty said as if it was the simplest thing in the world, instead of the massive bomb it should have been. “I’m bisexual. I like both.”
“And I’m gay,” Eddie said bluntly, resting his elbows on his knees.
Steve blinked. “Oh. I’m not sure what I am, then.”
Janice put her hand his shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to figure it out right away, Steve. I didn’t mean to make question your identity.”
“Just don’t freak out, man,” Marty said. “I don’t think I’m equipped to deal with water works.”
Steve cocked his head. “I mean, I guess. But there’s no reason to freak out about it. Yeah, I’ve used fag and queer as insults and that’s not good. Obviously. But finding out I like boys? Not as earth shattering as I thought it would be.”
“And you don’t mind us being queer?” Eddie asked.
Steve frowned. “No. And I understand your concern. But no. Of course not.”
Eddie nodded and then sat back.
“So you thought Tammy would want to be Abigail instead of Martha?” Steve asked Janice. “Because it’s the bigger role?”
Janice flopped back against the cushions. “Exactly. Abby has more lines, more songs, more stage time in general.”
Steve let out a chuckle. “Then you don’t know Tammy.”
Marty and Eddie leaned in.
“Oh, do tell,” Marty pleaded.
“She would want the ‘pretty’ role,” Steve said. “Especially if she’s basing her idea of the roles on this movie. Virginia who played Abby is gorgeous, but in an understated, has had six kids and worked her whole life kind of way.”
“But Blythe Danner is just straight up hot,” Marty said.
Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly. Tammy is just vain enough to want the Martha role even though it’s smaller...”
“Because she’s prettier than me?” Janice asked incredulously.
Steve laughed. “I didn’t say that. I said that Tammy thought that.”
“Mine!” Janice said throwing her arms around Steve possessively.
Eddie’s stomach rolled. He looked away so he didn’t see Steve blush and shift uncomfortably under her affection. But Marty did.
“Hey, quit hogging the guy,” he teased. “There’s enough Steve for everyone.”
Eddie looked back to see Steve gently push her off of him. “I’ve got a lot people who already have claimed that title, you’re gonna hafta stand in line.”
Janice and Marty looked at each other in confusion.
Eddie pursed his lips. “It’s the kids, right?”
Steve nodded, but Marty and Janice’s looks of confusion didn’t clear.
“Stevie here babysits,” Eddie said grinning from ear to ear.
Steve laughed. “At least that’s what I call it so people don’t freak out. So until Eddie took me under his wing, most of my friends were thirteen year olds.”
“I take in lost sheep,” Eddie said. “Never took in a senior before. Or a former popular kid, it’s been quite the eye opener.”
Steve blushed and ducked his head. “I’ve never been more grateful to see a person in my life then when I looked up and saw you that day in Mr Vinke’s class.”
Eddie shoved his hair in front of his face and looked away, this time for a more pleasant reason then before.
Marty and Janice looked over Steve’s head and grinned.
Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21
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A Comparison of Bucky F*cking Dent (Novel) to Reverse the Curse (Movie version)
Please note this contains spoilers for both the movie and the book.
Bucky F*cking Dent (BFD) is a novel written by David Duchovny which was published in 2016. It is his second published novel. Reverse the Curse (RTC) is a movie based on the novel which is written, directed and starring David Duchovny. It first premiered at the Tribeca Festival in 2023 and then was released in June 2024. It is the second David Duchovny film written and directed by him. After Duchovny’s first movie was released in 2004, when asked what his next written and directed by film would be, he described the plotline for BFD/RTC. He did not anticipate twenty years between. His first movie, House of D, was panned by critics; although it has gained more appreciation in recent years and funding for the second film came and went as often happens in Hollywood. When first conceived, Duchovny planned on playing the son, Teddy, in the film. I confess that upon reading the novel I had a very hard time picturing Duchovny as the son. After the success of Duchovny’s first novel (New York Times Best Seller, Holy Cow), he decided to write the novel BFD based on his earlier screenplay. This second novel also received critical acclaim and he went on to write two additional novels and one novella. When the time came to adapt his novel into a movie, he was too old to play the son and instead played Marty, the father.
In general, I can enjoy both a film and the novel on which the film is based, but there have been times, depending on if I read the novel or seen the movie first, where I prefer one to the other and, possibly, have decided I don’t like either the movie or the book as much. As a for instance, it is impossible for me not to love Henry Fonda’s portrayal of Tom Joad from The Grapes of Wrath movie which I first saw as a child, but reading the book years later made me realize how inadequate the movie was when compared to the novel. With that in mind, I was simultaneously enthusiastic about the movie RTC and terrified I would not like it; especially as I heard from people who were at Tribeca about some changes made in the adaptation to screen. BFD is the novel that made me a fan of Duchovny, the writer. It is a novel which months after reading would wake me in the middle of the night with a remembrance of a passage that I felt compelled to read again (not uncommon for me with my favorite writers). Also, his first written and directed by movie is one of my favorite movies ever. So, I was putting a lot of pressure on RTC as an Indie movie that did not see a wide film release.
Remarkably, perhaps because Duchovny is both a novelist and a script writer, I found the movie and the book (which I reread in its entirety after seeing the film for the first time), are complementary towards each other in their differences. Seeing the movie enhanced my enjoyment of the book and rereading the book made the movie more enjoyable for me on subsequent rewatches. In my review of the movie, I said I would do a comparison. It took me a few months to decide on an approach. Cataloguing what was different and the same, the sequence of events between say where the first scene of the movie happens vs. its inclusion in a more middle sequence of the book, might be illustrative of the technique utilized for adaption, but it left me not embracing the heart of the work as well and what is common in both the novel and movie is the heart of the story. So I’ve decided to take a less prescriptive approach and instead compare what works better in the film and what works better in the novel.
What works better in the film?
The barbershop boys and the condensation of some material.
In the book, Marty goes to a news kiosk on his block where three guys his age often gather to talk over the news of the day. In the movie, it’s the same three characters who gather in the barbershop. In both, these old guys are part of the scheme to keep Marty healthy by creating a bubble in which the Red Sox are winning including sometimes “faking” rain outs by convincing Marty that it’s raining. (Remember this is set in 1978 before cell phone and constant online news). This was always my least favorite part of the book because, even in 1978, this is a stretch for my suspension of belief and because I have never, really, been around old guys who are lifelong friends to understand the rhythm of the banter. The character who keeps asking people to loan him $50 was lost on me. In the movie, this is one of my favorite parts. Duchovny calls on his Californication co-stars Evan Handler and Jason Beghe (Pamela Adlon also has a small part as Teddy’s literary agent) and adds Santo Fazio to make these characters come to life. According to an interview with Beghe all scenes were shot in one and a half days. The rhythm of their banter is so real, interrupting each other, finishing each other’s sentences, that when I read the book now, I can hear this rhythm. I can visualize the rain creating sequences which in their absurdity is hilarious but also become more realistic and possible as viewed in the film. I have watched very few movies where the least favorite part of the book becomes better because of the movie. I am grateful for Duchovny’s decision to use “old guys” who he already has a rhythm of banter with to make this happened so convincingly. It also brings the heart of these guys into focus. In this way it reminds me of the Bonnie Hunt written and directed movie, Return to Me, in which Duchovny stars and in which there are four old guys. These are old guys whose wives are no longer with them, and they are each other’s support network. It’s quite beautiful and unexpected in both Return to me and in RTC.
The condensation of material can be one of the most challenging parts of adapting a novel to screen. Beloved characters and subplots are often lost. Here again, this is done quite well in this movie. Instead of the Jamaican guy who Teddy buys his weed from in the book and eventually purchases tickets to the Red Sox/ Yankees one game tie breaker, it is the barbershop old guys who give Teddy the tickets. It includes the story of why one of the guys still carries his wife’s purse. She has been dead ten years, but love conquers death. He pulls from the purse the tickets to give to Ted. It makes this, additionally improbable plotline, of Marty coming back from a coma to be able to travel with Ted to see the game, more poignant and possible – because love defeats death and makes anything possible. In the book, the broader subplots and characters are important for depth and understanding of the characters. Another example of this is that far more of Ted’s work life and ultimate termination from the job is detailed in the book. It is an essential point of his journey. However, stealing the VCR machine and game videos would have been clunky in the pacing of the film. Simply solving the problem with, “I took the tube out of the TV” eliminates the need for this.
Additions to the movie
As we will get to in the next section, there is one area where over condensation occurs -especially as it affects the backstory of Mariana. Duchovny adeptly makes up for this by adding one conversation with Mariana and Ted which was not part of the book, but rather was part of his X Files research. In talking to an FBI agent to prepare for Mulder, the agent told him that sometimes agents will die from gunshots that do not need to be fatal because their mind convinces them that they will die. In the movie, Mariana considered becoming a FBI agent and, upon hearing the story, decides that the mind can be a more powerful protection than a gun and becomes a grief counseling nurse- helping people to die. She tells Ted this and, later, when Ted calls to tell her Marty has died, he says “just because you were shot doesn’t mean you have to die” to entice her back into his world of the living.
What works better in the book including what was left out of the movie
Use of music, flashbacks, poetry and stream of consciousness.
In the novel, Ted is a Deadhead. Mariana loves disco. I previously wrote a blog about the careful placement of Grateful Dead songs in the novel. I even managed to have a conversation with Duchovny about the use of Box in Rain as the song that plays in Ted’s mind as his father dies in the car on their way back from Boston following the game. The correlation between the fact that this song was written by Phil Lesh and Robert Hunter as Lesh was caring for his father who died of cancer made the use of this song in the book more poignant. In the movie this is short handed by one scene about Mariana’s tattoos where she confesses to being a Grateful Dead fan with Box of Rain being her favorite song and Ted wearing a “disco sucks” shirt. This is, I believe, a nod to the fans of the book that the writer and director understands that, for some of us, this lack of a single Grateful Dead song would be a disappointment. They were on a budget. Grateful Dead songs are expensive. Their substitution of the song Father Song by Keaton Simon is a wonderful choice. The inclusion of Duchovny’s original song The Rain Song which references a Box of Rain also has a poignancy for those who know the backstory of that song. Duchovny’s ex wife loved the rain, and her favorite movie is an older movie about a man creating the illusion of rain for a woman he loves who loves the rain. That movie is a clear inspiration for creating the illusion of rain sequences in the book and movie. The line in the song “it will always be raining in this song” is a declaration of love and speaks to the heart of the movie. However, this movie would have been better, in my opinion, if there had been a budget to include some Grateful Dead (at least for this old deadhead).
The book includes several flashback sequences spread throughout the book of when Marty was younger, and Ted was a baby and in the hospital. It also includes flashbacks of when Mariana’s daughter was dying. There are some brief flashbacks of Marty and Ted which leads to the big reveal in the movie about why Marty had problems reattaching to Ted. This scene might be the best of Duchovny’s acting career. If there had been time to include more flashbacks that might have been better. There are no flashback scenes of Mariana and her daughter in the movie. I don’t know how those might have been included except for perhaps as Mariana is telling Ted goodbye. However, there is one chapter in the book where the daughter is trying to think of how to tell her mother not to die too which is heartbreakingly sad and speaks to the heart of Mariana’s character who has trouble attaching to people who are not dying. As mentioned earlier, the FBI addition went a long way to compensating. I still would suggest that everyone should read the book in order to bring the awareness of those flashbacks to the scenes – especially the Marty asking his son’s forgiveness scene.
The last two things – poetry and stream of consciousness are best left in the novel. One of the most touching scenes in the book is after Ted arranges a reunion of Marty and an old romance when they are returning from Brooklyn and recite Walt Whitman’s “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” to each other. One of the things that book does better than the movie is show how these two men – estranged for so long – were so similar. Even with all the things Marty had never given Ted were the things he had: a love of baseball, a love of writing, a love of poetry and a character trait of being oppositional. It’s a nuance that is missing from the movie. Yet, I cannot imagine in the movie that reciting poetry would feel anything but contrived, but in the book it is very natural with the groundwork laid in advance.
Finally, the novel style is of internal character dialogue and Ted’s internal dialogue is stream of consciousness. One of my favorite paragraphs in the book begins “What a day for a daydream.” I think it was wise of Duchovny not to fill the movie with poetry or try to capture a stream of consciousness approach. It does make the book a wonderful distinct thing (filled with words and wonderful writing) from the movie. If you’ve read the book, you can bring all of that to the movie and, if you haven’t, the movie stands alone.
Summary
Returning to my earlier example of really enjoying Grapes of Wrath the movie and yet knowing that the book was far superior. In the case of BFD vs. RTC, I can make no claim of superiority. I will rewatch the movie. I will reread the book. In some ways the things left out of the movie, means the book remains dear because it is an experience so different from the movie and, yet the movie is visually appealing, and the actors bring forth the emotions in a way that words might not adequately express. They are the same story told in different ways to fit the medium in which they are being told. It is the rare example of adaptations where it is possible to love each version of the story more because you have experienced the other version.
If you haven’t read the book or seen the movie, I encourage you to do both- maybe read the book first. Congratulations to Mr. Duchovny for this achievement.
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🌼
AAHHH!! Thank you Andi!!
in no particular order these are some of my favorite fics to have written:
Marty McFly, Eat Your Heart Out : Spider-Man NWH time travel au where Dr. Strange sends Peter back to 2003 instead of the memory spell, and Peter runs into a younger Uncle Ben who is hell bent on helping the weird mutant kid who keeps making strange comments.
Time is a Fickle Thing... : yet another time travel fix-it, but this time for the series Trollhunters and Tales of Arcadia. instead of resetting the timeline like he thought he did, Jim appears at the beginning of the series and has to avoid being seen by his younger self and try to fix everything that went wrong without being caught and losing anyone.
Moments : slice of life one-shots that focused on the Shazamily after the events of the first movie. It was my most consistently updated fic and my longest one that i've ever written and i have much love and nostalgia for it.
What Mothers Do : a Shazam fic where their foster mom, Rosa, is suspicious as to why her kids have been acting so weird. She's determined to figure out what's been going on with them, and maybe kicks a super-villains ass while she's at it.
The Half-Finished, Half-Assed Guide to Being Half-Dead: By a Half-Ghost: Young Justice/DC and Danny Phantom crossover, where during a recon mission gone wrong, Robin becomes a halfa. And what else is the League supposed to do but find and ask for the help of the only superhero halfa they can find?
Like the Birds which is the second installment in my Detroit: Become Human Superman/DC au.
i added a sixth one too because why not?? Thank you for the ask Andi!! I really appreciate it and this was fun!
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isack’s insta caption is so… 😶😶
“limited power from the race start to the end 😶 // it is getting really frustrating, mechanics does not make it easy for us this season”
i get that engine issues are out of his control, but what about his bad start? why is he shading his team publicly on social media? what about that time where his teammate didn’t get much info from engineers during a race? or that nightmarish tyre incident (granted, that wasn’t fully the mechanics fault, as far as i know)?
point is, his teammate never publicly threw his crew under the bus, so why is isack doing it?
has he completely forgotten about the horrible wave of bad luck his teammate just went through? has he forgotten how his teammate never publicly shamed anyone on his social media even when there were times where he could’ve very easily blamed certain people?
but even then like idk because there was a pepe interview (not sure if its super reliable but) that said “Campos Formula 2 racer Pepe Marti suggested his team are not to blame for the technical problems their cars experienced in the first two rounds.”
and he kept praising his team and saying oh stuff like this can happen, though it’s odd or whatever and idk i just think their attitudes are just so different and maybe it’s because of the time and weather but i’m feeling so bad for the mechanics rn
- 🪷
isack baby this is NOT a good look on you 😶 ofc i had to compare it to a more civilized boy who's not afraid of admitting that he messed up:
chris is so sweet about it, admitting his fault, and then... isack.....
let's say it is true and he had limited power. then it's still EXTREMELY disrespectful to talk about your team like that. dude, you're in f2, your team is obviously doing their best to help you out. why would they not? and why attack them like this out in public??? you may be looking up to your idols in f1 who talk about "my car is shit" or "they messed up" or whatever. but you are faaaar from there... you are far from the right to talk to the people who work for you like that. oh my god, this is so stupid
it also makes it look, just like you touched on, as if campos hasn't had any issues with pepe's car... you have a teammate who's had crazy bad luck and also a lot of bad calls, but not once did he say anything. even when he was upset about not getting any info over the radio, did he post about it on insta ??? does isack not realize how stupid he looks??
like sorry for comparing it to pepe but he even congratulates isack for his wins even when he was the reason pepe crashed out from a race he could've won... i hate whiny drivers but maybe even more, i hate drivers who aren't appreciative and supportive of their team? lando and oscar always making sure to thank everyone back home at the factory, etc..... a major difference
pepe saying that in an interview is so typical him :(( sweetheart wouldn't blame anyone else, even if it's possible that it was indeed someone else's fault :(((
it's just so stupid to talk about your team like this, because what? do you think they're going to agree? or be happy about it? do you think they'll like you more and feel more likely to help you out (or do you think that maybe they'll prioritize someone like pepe)??
#chris baby i also thought the sc was out already#i was like “!! safety car is out boys dont overtake !!! penalty for tsolov and martinius both !!!!!!!!”#🤷♀️ welp#idk i just keep liking isack less and less#asks!#anon!#lotus anon!#🪷!
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The Other Shoe, Part 14
***
One second, Deeks was counting down from 20, and the next he woke up in a recovery room with two nurses hovering over him. They asked him the typical orientation questions, informing him that the surgery went well.
“Marty, why don’t you let me get you some ice and see how you do with that?” One of the nurses offered, unhooking him from one of the many IVs connected to him.
“No, I want to see my wife,” he insisted, wincing against the rough sensation in his throat.
“And I thought she was the stubborn one,” the other nurse muttered. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll send someone to get her,” she promised.
“I appreciate it, Lupita.”
He closed his eyes again, drifting in and out while the nurses finished up and wheeled him back to his room. Kensi was waiting for him, and jumped immediately to help situate him into a semi-upright position.
Deeks felt vaguely nauseous and completely exhausted by the time they were finished.
“Hey baby,” Kensi said, hovering with a worried expression.
“Hey, you’re the cutest nurse I’ve ever seen,” Deeks told her with a weak smile.
“We’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” Lupita commented dryly. “He can have some ice chips but nothing and else and only when he’s upright.”
“Of course.” Kensi nodded seriously, fingers folded together tightly. Once both nurses were gone, she caressed his cheek. “You made it.”
“I did.”
“How do you feel?” she asked. She brushed his hair back from his face, the gesture soothing.
“Well, on a level of previous injuries, I’d put it somewhere between two gunshot wounds to the abdomen and unplanned dental surgery,” he replied. Even through the remnant of anesthesia and pain medication, it felt like he’d been split open and his insides rearranged. Which he supposed was pretty accurate.
“Babe.” Kensi closed her eyes, and shook her head, shoulders vibrating slightly despite her protests. When she opened her eyes again, she smiled down at him, relief in her eyes. “I’m glad you can make dark jokes about it.” Her hand settled on the back of his neck. “Your surgical team said the surgery went almost perfectly and the outcome looks really good. They’ll come down a little bit later to explain everything.”
“Sounds good.“ Maybe it was the lingering medication—likely—but after so many months of worrying and planning, he found he didn’t care to know. It seemed like he’d gotten over the biggest hurdle, and all he wanted to do was not think about the next step. “Do you wanna cuddle?”
“I love you,” Kensi said around a tearful laugh. She kissed him, careful not to bump his nasal cannula. When she pulled back, she rubbed her thumb across his bottom lip.
“Love you too. Thanks for staying and worrying about me,” he told her.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“So about that cuddle?”
Kensi laughed again, though this time it sounded more cheerful.
“Yes, I will cuddle with you. First I want to go check in on Sam,” Kensi told him.
“That’s a good idea. Tell him thanks for me. You know, until I’m able to do it myself.” He owed Sam a hell of a lot more than his thanks.
“I will.” Leaning over him, Kensi kissed him one more time. “I love you so much.”
***
Apparently Sam had lifted his previous visitor ban, because there wasn’t any sign on his door and when she knocked, he called for her to come in.
“Oh, it’s you,” he greeted her from his bed with a slightly loopy smile. “Thought it was G coming with something stupid.”
“No, just me. I wanted to check on you. Deeks is doing well,” Kensi said, gesturing over her shoulder.
“Yeah, that’s what my nurse said.” Sam nodded. “Good.”
“How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?” she asked.
“I feel about one kidney lighter,” he replied, his chuckle letting Kensi know that he was just as high as Deeks. “I hope Deeks enjoys it. That organ’s got prime Hanna DNA in it.”
“I know he does,” Kensi assured him. “That’s actually part of why I stopped by. We wanted to say thank you again.”
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Well, since I only have one left, probably not again, but you get what I mean.”
“I do.” She nodded several times, feeling the sudden onslaught of tears.
“Hey, come here,” Sam said, gesturing until Kensi came close enough he could wrap an arm around her.
“Oh Sam, your incision. Be careful.”
“I’m fine.” He squeezed her tightly, only wincing a little when he released her. “Now, go be with your man.” Kensi squeezed his hand before heading for the door. “And tell him I’ll kick his ass if he even thinks of getting out that bed before his doctor says he can,” he called after her.
***
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this lighter chapter, including loops and silly Sam.
#ncis la fanfiction#densi#marty deeks#kensi blye#Sam#angst#sick fic#Deeks whump#the other shoe#part 14#au#ejzah fanfiction
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I’m kind of surprised at the ask you answered about Linda Thompson because you made it seem like Elvis wasn’t all that into her. A lot of guys in the Memphis mafia have said that Linda was the best for him and that he should have married her instead of Priscilla. So clearly he must have really loved her if the guys say that lol.
I’m sorry that was definitely not my intention 😭 I think I even said I had no questions as to why Elvis loved her, she gave him many years of happiness. And like with most of the women in his life, I believed he still loved her even after their separation. The anon was just asking why Elvis did some of the things he did while he was still dating Linda, like wanting to be photographed with Diana Goodman, and introducing other women as his girlfriend on stage, and I was just responding to it with the info that I have read. And from what I have read, and as Linda says herself, as the years went on they grew apart and their relationship evolved into something more platonic
And I know you didn’t exactly ask a question but I thought I would expand on you saying that many of the guys thought/wished Elvis would have married Linda Thompson as I think it again shows the importance of understanding why perspectives may vary 🤧
I have been fortunate enough to read all of the Memphis Mafia’s individual and group books// and something I’ve noticed in particular about the MM is that they tend to judge Elvis’ relationships based on how much they personally liked/or got along with the girl
For example Priscilla Presley tolerated the Memphis Mafia but never got particularly close to any of them, and as she tells it, often kept to herself/remained silent. So their choice of words for her was “cold” “bitch” “fake” “false” “unfriendly”
In fairness, she very well could have been all of those things, I didn’t personally know her then but I have to question if they viewed her as that simply because she didn’t embrace their group
I think this comes down to their male perspective: perhaps they were not understanding of the fact that a 17-year-old-girl would likely feel uncomfortable and resort to being quiet/reserved when surrounded by a group of rowdy and unfamiliar men
Priscilla is by no-means a saint but I really sympathize with her in that regard
It was the same situation with Ginger Alden, who didn’t manage to form relationships with the group as it was very split up by the time she and Elvis had met. She (mind you a 20-year-old girl) was also called “cold” “bitch” “uncaring” “quiet” “boring” “sad”
And again, she could have very well been all those things, I didn’t know her personally but as someone who is very quiet in person, I know the feeling of other people assuming you are “cold” or a “bitch” because you are keeping to yourself
So this makes me question if women like Priscilla, Ginger, Juliet Prowse, Tuesday Weld etc. etc. were actually “cold and “bitches” or did some of the men just not appreciate women who didn’t warm up to them?
In contrast you have women like Ann Margret and Linda Thompson, who were very personable, and generally had no qualms with accepting the Memphis Mafia into their lives
Marty Lacker : “The difference in Priscilla and Linda was the same as the difference between Priscilla and Ann-Margret—neither one of them felt threatened by anybody (in reference to the Memphis Mafia)”
Sonny West : “We loved her and she (Ann Margret) accepted us in the way others didn’t. There was no jealousy there, she just accepted us being around”
Sonny West: “Linda had that southern spunk and it just made her fit right in with us”
Lamar Fike: “We all liked Linda, she had a good, fun, personality”
So when asked about Ann Margret and Linda Thompson, you will often find the Memphis Mafia saying that they were the girls Elvis should have married, they were the best for him etc. etc. and again I can’t help but wonder if they believe that because they were the women who got along with them
This is why I find female perspectives (who were not romantically linked with Elvis) particularly refreshing, for example the wives of the Memphis Mafia, and employees like Nurse Tish, the secretary Becky Yancy, the maids Mary Jenkins and Nancy Rooks, his cousin Patsy Presley and his friend Patti Parry
I cannot tell you how important I find this passage below about Ginger from the perspective of Elvis’ female maid, Nancy Rooks ⬇️
“Ginger and I had lunch several months after Elvis died, and I came away with a more sympathetic view of her. I think she has been unjustly accused in some ways and somewhat misunderstood in the events of that day. There was probably nothing that she could have done to prevent his death, any more than the rest of us could not have done anything to have saved him. Elvis was a strong personality, and was used to having his way. Ginger was very young at the time. I sometimes have thought she may have been in way over her head in her relationship with him at such a young age”
(excerpt from “Inside Graceland”)
I appreciate that many of the women in his life are able to be sympathetic and understanding, as opposed to judging a woman based on how beautiful she was or how much she talked
Like when the Memphis Mafia are prompted to talk about a woman in Elvis’ life, most of their initial thoughts on them are in regards to their physical appearance
- When asked about Natalie Wood, this was Lamar Fike’s initial response: “I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen”
- Billy Smith’s first initial thought on meeting Priscilla: “I thought Priscilla was beautiful ”
-Marty Lacker on first meeting Barbara Leigh “She was wearing this sheer, almost see-through, yellow gown. She turned around, and Elvis introduced us. She was a beautiful girl”
- Red West on meeting Ann Margret “She was unbelievably sexy. Us guys couldn’t sleep on the nights we knew we were going to be seeing her
- Alan Fortas’ initial impression of Tuesday Weld “She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid my eyes on”
I’m convinced a woman could have run over Elvis with her car and if she was beautiful enough these men would have commented on that first 💀
#female perspectives are important in the Elvis world#raise your hand if you have been called a bitch for being quiet 🙋♀️#this is why I sympathize with Ginger#she just sat there and didn’t say much and people act like she is the worst thing that ever happened to Elvis#perhaps a 20 year old girl just didn’t have much in common with a whole group of men in their 40s 😭#elvis presley#elvisaaronpresley#elvis#elvis history#elvis fans#the memphis mafia#elvis asks
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June of Doom Day 3 - Ambushed
A/N: It turns out Needles didn't appreciate Marty's newfound maturity. Set a few days after Part III.
Marty sipped his Pepsi idly as he walked, gazing back at the neon signage above the cinemas. The crisp October wind gently brushed his tie askew, and he stopped to reposition it, taking in the sounds of distant sirens and muffled rock music. Damn, it still feels good to be back.
He and Jennifer hardly ever went out on 'fancy' dates - they both much preferred a simple Burger King run or quiet picnic in the park - but he had been so desperate to get re-accustomed with his time period that he'd offered to sponsor a date night at a classier establishment, complete with a late night at the movies.
To his surprise, Jennifer had been enthusiastic at the idea. "We can use it as our anniversary date as well! Saves you having to get dressed up twice." She'd joked, kissing Marty playfully.
Marty was glad she had remembered. He felt guilty at having forgotten, but in his defence, he'd had a lot of other things to process this week.
He took the last swig of his drink as he approached the driver's door of the truck, tucking the empty bottle under his arm as he fumbled with the keys. Can't believe I left the damn tickets in here, I'm such a dumbass-
An explosion of pain rattled through his jaw and skull. Stars danced in his vision as a breathless cry of pain left his lips, his body protesting as it slammed into the side of his truck. His keys and the glass bottle slipped from his grasp and tumbled onto the asphalt, the shards being noisily crunched underfoot.
Marty barely had a chance to process what the hell had happened when a second blow caught him off guard, his body crumpling in on itself. He tried to wrap his arms protectively over his stomach, only for someone to grab his wrists. "What th-mmph!"
"Shut up, McFly!" His attacker growled, gripping his mouth so tightly that he could feel the fingernails digging into his face.
Marty's stomach dropped. Oh, for God's sake, not Needles again! He fought against the hands restraining him, desperately trying to free his face to scream. "Hhmph!"
"Quit it, McFly, nobody's gonna hear ya out here," Needles taunted. "Even your girl isn't around to bat for you this time."
Marty suddenly felt a sense of claustrophobia come over him. The hands clutching at his body had become too much - they were obstructing his vision, his breathing, they were clawing all over him he was suffocating he was gonna die-
"Hmmph!" He threw his body to the side in an attempt to dislodge Needles's grip, disappointed to find it did nothing but earn him a knee to the stomach. The breath was was once again evicted from his lungs, his display of defiance quickly fading as the adrenaline in his body failed him. If I could just bite his hand-
"It's a real shame you didn't race me, McFly," Needles hissed down his ear. "Hittin' that Rolls Royce would've been way less painful compared to what I'm gonna to do to a chicken like you."
Marty's face paled as he found himself being swung around, his back slamming awkwardly into the side of his truck. He barely had time to react before Needles had once again gripped his wrists and clamp his mouth shut, staring at him with a look he could only describe as deranged. The nauseating smell of alcohol wafting into his nose did nothing to ease his nerves, as did the look of Needles's half-glazed eyes. Maybe he has finally lost his shit. Where's the rest of his possé? And is that blood on his face?!
He didn't want to admit it, but he was terrified.
"Here's what's gonna happen now, screwball," Needles spoke sharply. "I'm gonna take those keys of yours. We're gonna go for a long ride, and you're not gonna give me any trouble about it. And then I'm gonna make sure you-"
"Marty!"
Jennifer! "Mmmhmm!" Marty squirmed furiously under Needles's hand, yet the iron-clad grip around his mouth remained firm. Run, Jennifer!
"Argh, shit!" Needles's tough demeanour instantly vanished. He decided to abandon his monologue, repositioning his hands in an attempt to force Marty into the truck. "Where are the keys, dickhead?"
"HEY, DIPSHIT!" Jennifer's screams were growing closer. "Leave him alone!"
No, Jennifer! He'll hurt you! Marty forced his feet up against the doors of the truck in an attempt to stop Needles from dragging him any further, cringing at the sound of scratched paint. If I could just get a punch in-
"Oh yeah?" A sickening high-pitched laugh erupted from Needles, who laughed down at his captive. "You gonna let yourself get saved by a girl, McFly? What a fu-"
Needles found himself unable to finish his sentence, as he was too busy reacting to the sudden burst of pain in his nether regions."GAHHHH! MY BALLS!"
Marty aimed his gaze as high over Needles's shoulder as he could, just in time to see Jennifer produce a second kick to the groin with her heels. He couldn't help but smirk under the hand gagging him. Damn, she's good…
As his captor screamed pathetically his grip on Marty disappeared, with Marty finding the ground rushing towards him quicker than he would like. Jennifer's arms suddenly came into his line of view, gasping as she helped to haul him to his feet. He gave her a thankful look, massaging his sore jaw delicately. "…Thanks, Jen."
"No problem, McFly," Jennifer smiled proudly, though her concern quickly became evident once she noticed the knuckle-shaped bruise forming along his jawline. "Oh, Marty, your poor cheek-"
"I know, Jen," Marty said quietly. Don't remind me; it hurts enough. For some reason, he found he couldn't tear his glare away from the pathetic form of Needles, curled up in the fetal position as he whimpered. "You're an asshole, Needles. I hope you always remember that."
Needles sluggishly raised his head to hiss at him, clearly struggling to speak through the pain. "…Go to hell, McFly!"
Deciding he'd had enough of being manhandled for one night, Marty retrieved his keys from the asphalt and took Jennifer's hand in his own. "Let's go, Jen. The 'chicken' can clean up its own shit."
Jennifer said nothing as they crossed through the carpark, waiting until she was sure they were out of Needles's earshot. Once they'd rounded the corner and were in sight of the movie theatre, she wrapped her arms eagerly around Marty and gave him a loving kiss. "Are you sure you're alright, Marty?"
"Positive, Jen," Marty whispered, returning the embrace. "J-Just a bit embarrassed, that's all."
"Oh, Marty, please don't be," Jennifer tapped him playfully on the nose as she spoke. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, mister. I'm the only witness, remember?"
Marty's smile faded as he nuzzled into her hair. "…All I-I could see was Biff…a-and his group, h-how they tossed me around-"
Jennifer delicately placed a finger to his lips. "I know, honey. But you're okay, and that's what matters right now."
She waited until he nodded before removing her finger. "…I-I'm glad you found me before, uh, before it got serious-"
"Serious?" Jennifer's brow rose in alarm. "What did he want?"
Marty gazed back in the direction of the car park, the unsettled feeling in his stomach returning. Although he had a fairly solid idea of what Needles had planned, he didn't want to frighten Jennifer anymore than she already had been. "…I don't think I want to know, Jen."
While she decided not to pry further, she gave him a troubled expression. "You are gonna go to the police about it, right?"
"Of course! I'm not gonna let that asshole think jumping me like that is okay," Marty took Jennifer's hand in his own and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Maybe I wanna enjoy our date first."
It took a few moments before Jennifer relented. "…Alright then, mister. As long as you promise-"
"Yeah, mom, I will," Marty laughed quietly, planting another kiss on Jennifer's forehead as she giggled. The warmth of her skin on his lips was electric, and he suddenly felt energised, running his fingernail down the side of her face. "Shall we continue?"
Jennifer gave him a flirty quirk of the eyebrows. "I'm all yours, Mister McFly."
"The tickets are still in the car, though."
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𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕥 - bucky barnes x reader
complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | bucky barnes masterlist
words || 𝟝𝕜
summary || in which nat and sam goad bucky and the reader into making a bet
a/n || hey guys, it’s been too long and i’m sorry about that. it’s exam season, so it’s been hard for me to focus on writing. ➵ thank you to everyone who’s been interacting and following the blog. as much as i appreciate likes, i’d love it if you guys could reblog any works you enjoy, as it really helps with traction towards for my work. ➵ i’m so excited to finally be writing the bet trope - full courtesy of brooklyn 99 - and i hope i did it justice ➵ finally, i hope you enjoy!
warnings || fluff
when clint passed y/n on the way to the kitchen, he was pretty sure she hissed at him.
similarly, when sam smiled at her, muttering a good morning as he handed her a cup of coffee, he’d heard a guttural, almost-demonic groan emit from her. he’d scrambled out of the room quickly, not hoping to be on the bad side of whatever that was.
subsequently, natasha, tony, and wanda all had similar experiences with her. even rhodey, coming in between meetings with the secretary of state and the vice president, had managed to receive a non-verbal but almost more understandable show of discontent from her. though, he reasoned she was still infinitely better than secretary ross.
so, when steve walked into the kitchen - passing by her - everyone stayed nearby, watching with bated breath to see the captain’s reaction to it all.
“hey, y/n.” in response to his greeting, she grunts. he looks at her sympathetically as he makes himself breakfast, “guess the date didn’t go well?”
“it went horrible!” suddenly, the dots started connecting in everyone’s heads.
natasha recalled yesterday night, everyone wishing y/n luck as she exited the tower - all done up for a date. she’d been gushing about the guy for a few days beforehand, though nat remembered feeling that it was all a bit ingenuine. obviously, her concerns must have been right, she thought, as she emerged from her hiding place, ready to comfort y/n.
“who - what happened, oh, are you okay?” contrary to her cold-hearted demeanor and reputation, was the image of her now, cradling her friend’s head as she tried to console her. y/n grumbles.
“yeah, nat, i’m fine. i am, however, going to need your help with a murder.” nat sighs, pulling her hair up.
“‘lright, what was the bastard’s name? mike? mark?”
“no! what? no, not him. and his name was marty.”
sam audibly winced from behind her.
“you went on a date with a marty?”
“shut up, sam. wait, so if it wasn’t the date why are you upset?” the loud voices from the kitchen must have carried across floors as, before y/n could answer, a voice rung out from behind them.
“what the hell’s going on here?” a very sleep-deprived looking bucky stumbled in, causing y/n to inhale sharply.
“you fucking-” she picked up the first thing that she could grab - a newspaper, unfortunately for her - and launched it in his direction, “whore!” a series of exclamations broke out through the room - poor steve looked like he was gonna have a panic attack at the language used - while bucky deflected the projectile with his metal arm. as y/n rummaged for things to continue hitting him with, and everyone else kept hiding any possible weapons, sam turned to bucky, laughing.
“you had to bust out the metal arm to defend yourself against a - a fucking newspaper!”
“shut up, man-” distracted by conversation, bucky didn’t realize that y/n had advanced on him. she would’ve pounced too, had steve not grabbed her by the waist and held her back.
“barnes, i will - steve, let me go - i will fuck you up, barnes!” she kicked in his grip - rather pathetically.
“okay - no, y/n, calm down, calm down,” with a hand still tentatively holding her back, he tried to calm her down as she slowly relaxed, “would one of you tell me what is going on?”
“why don’t you ask your friend, rogers?”
“yeah, rogers!” tony piped up from behind her, ready to take any opportunity to fuck with steve. the latter rolled his eyes, turning to his best friend.
“alright, then, buck, what’s going on?” bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“nothing, i swear! look, it was just a crazy coincidence - i was on a date at a restaurant, and, lo and behold - she’s there, too!” a shout of indignance from in front of him causes steve to wince.
“oh - you goddamn - that’s absolutely not what happened! i’m trying to go on this fucking date, and then he shows up with the guy’s ex!” the revelation causes gasps to ring out.
“i didn’t know!”
“bullshit!” bucky shrugged again, unsure of how else to defend himself.
“wait, sure that’s awkward, but it’s not the end of the world.” wanda speaks from behind steve, causing y/n to roll her eyes.
“it is if my date ends up leaving with his ex.”
“oh my god.” sam’s pissing himself laughing in the corner, making a mental note to talk to rhodey about whether the compound could get a reality tv-show. y/n finally shrugs out of steve’s grasp and, once again advances on bucky. everyone waits with bated breath to see if her promise held true but, instead, she walked past him.
“i know you did it on purpose, james,” she sighs, “now if you’ll excuse me, i’m gonna go back to bed.”
the day went on as usual, but her absence weighed on everyone’s minds. she hadn’t come out for a while, and steve just knew she was taking it heavy. although he trusted his best friend, he knew that y/n wasn’t delusional. unable to take it anymore, he finds bucky in his room.
“steve? can i help you?” bucky’s organizing - at least that’s what it looks like - when steve walks in. the latter clears his throat.
“hey, buck. i - look, i gotta ask. did ya know that y/n was gonna be at that restaurant?” bucky’s shoulders slump.
“yeah, yeah i did.” steve looks at him with a half-baked shock, as he’d honestly known what his answer would be.
“alright. and did you know that girl you were taking was his ex?” bucky doesn’t answer, “buck?”
“fuck, yeah - yes. i did.”
“oh my god, buck - that’s terrible! why-”
“look, i did it for her, okay?” steve stops berating him, and bucky sighs, before continuing. “i had friday do a little digging after she mentioned the guy’s name. he’s - well, one look at his social media shows he’s obviously still in love with his ex. i was saving y/n the hassle of finding out a few months from now and being even more upset about it.” steve bit his tongue, a little embarrassed at his misguided outburst. there was a heavy silence.
“buck - you… was that the only reason why?” bucky furrows his eyebrows.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean - well, you have a record of ruining her dates.” steve was right: on many of the sparse dates that y/n had gone out with, bucky would concoct an elaborate plan to stop her from going home with them.
“it’s not my fault she online dates - that fucking ‘kindling’-”
“tinder.” steve interrupts - natasha had tried time and time again to make him set up a profile.
“- yeah, whatever. it’s not my fault she always manages to find the worst guys.” steve ponders for a second.
“oh, come on. it can’t be that bad-”
“she’s been on dates with a racist, 3 cheaters, one guy who’s profile made it seem like he was in the black market organ trade and 2 convicted criminals. 2, steve, i get you fuck up once - but she did it twice!” steve holds his hand up in surrender.
“okay, okay! i get it, alright? i’m sorry for assuming - i’ll leave you be. good night, bucky.”
“yeah, yeah, see you steve.”
bucky knew he only did what he did because he didn’t want to see his friend get hurt. him and y/n were friends, as much as she didn’t like believing it, and he did want to make sure she was alright. well - that and her priceless reactions. he smiled at the memories of the morning, before remembering her sudden departure. he gulped, a guilt slowly creeping up on him. as he started going to bed, he made a mental note of apologizing to her the next morning.
as his head lay on his pillow, he pondered steve’s question. “was that the only reason why”? he reasoned with himself that - of course - it was the only reason he did it. though, as he closed his eyes, a nagging voice, that sounded an awful lot like sam, chided him for being a coward. for using this backward, awkward method to get her attention. it reminded him that he really did hate when she was overtly excited to go on these dates, always wondering what it’d be like if he was the one picking her up and taking her out. he could guarantee that he could make the experience a thousand times better than any of the others could.
it also helped that he wasn’t an criminal. but aren’t you? okay, that was just sam’s voice mocking him in his head. he groaned deeply, reluctantly pushing her out of his mind - as he tried to fall into a fitful sleep.
although bucky did apologize the next morning, he didn’t explain his reasoning for his actions. he always knew that - should he - their relationship might just be that much different - maybe even better. but he couldn’t. cause you’re a coward. dammit, there was the nag again.
and, thus, the natural order returned to the universe. y/n, for all the bravado of her anger, had become just as amicable as usual - to everyone. sure, bucky pissed her off, but every time he did, he’d also apologize, and they’d go back to a strange pseudo-frienship.
sam always wanted to comment on the nature of this friendship, but never actually did. he’d always be insanely confused, as the two of them could go from being at each others’ throats to very domestically enjoying sitcoms together. and he always thought that surely he couldn’t be the only person to notice the resounding sexual tension between the two of them in those moments. in fact, he was pretty sure it amplified whenever the two argued. and they weren’t subtle either - sam swore bucky would flirt with her any chance he got.
sam was, in fact, not alone in these findings, as the ever-observant natasha carried a similar sentiment whenever she noticed y/n’s lingering gazes towards the same man that nat would have to hear hours of complaints about. nat reasoned that the only way someone could talk about a person for that long would be if they truly loved or hated them. and while y/n would swear she hated bucky, nat could tell it was actually probably the former.
and that’s probably what led to today: natasha and sam being the only two witnesses to the slow progression of an argument between bucky and y/n. it had been over something stupid - really stupid, actually. an argument about which of their favorite characters from some police sitcom - that nat didn’t care too much for - was better.
“you don’t understand, rosa’s a fucking badass!”
“yeah, but jake’s so much funnier!”
“he’s also a baby!”
“oh my god-”
natasha had, in all honestly, zoned out. at least, until she’d muttered come from sam.
“jesus christ. honestly, just fuck already.” he hadn’t said it loudly - as the last time he’d made the proposition to bucky, he’d had to dodge a punch - but it was loud enough for nat to hear.
“tell me about it, right? it’s honestly vulgar - them just standing here and arguing.” sam chuckled, eyeing y/n as she rolled her eyes at the small, teasing smile on bucky’s face.
“should we, you know - should we help them?” nat stilled for a moment, thoughtfully rapping her fingers across her thigh.
“i mean, i’d love to, but how should we?” sam’s smile grew, knowing exactly what his plan was.
he waited for that night. it was a rare moment where almost everyone had stayed back at the compound for dinner. although tony made it clear thay all had rooms to enjoy there, many left most weeks to stay back at their own apartments. sam was pretty sure everyone was staying because wanda and clint were cooking, and no one could neglect an offer like that.
as they all settled down, nat and sam both made sure to let bucky and y/n sit together. had y/n noticed the small smile on nat’s face and the reason for it, she would have berated her for resorting such childish, middle school tactics. midway through, nat nodded to sam, figuring this was as good a time as any to proceed with their plan.
“hey, buck, y/n. i forgot to mention, good job on that mission in turkey.” as soon as he saw bucky’s low exhale and y/n roll her eyes, he and nat both knew they’d won.
“god, don’t even remind me.” sam was really struggling to hide his smile at y/n’s disgust.
“what are you talking about, y’all did great!” he was having far too much fun with this.
“well, i did great. and, y’know, she did something.” the gasp of indignance from y/n left steve and tony both placing their heads in their hands. wanda and clint were both wincing, while rhodey and - surprisingly - vision looked mildly amused.
“how dare you - hey, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”
“oh, come on, you know i had that guy under control.”
“if you consider him knocking your teeth out as ‘under control’!” before bucky could retort, steve spoke up.
“c’mon you guys, again? it was funny the first few times, but this is getting exhausting.”
“yeah, guys, steve’s right.” natasha spoke with a fake nonchalance that steve was just eating up, “you guys seriously need to learn to stop arguing.”
“how am i supposed to when it’s him!” nat smiled symapathetically at her best friend - so innocent, so naive.
“well - alright, well, let’s say the stakes are higher, then.” y/n, bucky and steve all looked confused at natasha’s statement. tony, however looked intrigued.
“stakes, eh? what’s on your mind, romanoff?”
“simple: a bet.” y/n spluttered at the answer, while bucky laughed.
“a bet? what is this, middle school?” y/n scolded, upon recovering from a cough.
“what, scared you’ll lose?” y/n wanted to now be the one to punch bucky in his perfect teeth. before they could escalate, nat continued.
“no arguments. neither of you is allowed to continue an argument.”
“continue?”
“well, we all do love the one-time, quick-witted, snide remarks. you’ll just not be able to retort - therefore continuing the argument.” y/n gritted her teeth: this sounded like a terrible idea. nat realizes she’s gotta do a bit more convincing.
“c’mon, y/n. there’s gotta be something you want from him.” the entire table looks at y/n expectantly, as she sighs.
“fine, yeah. uh, if i win, you have to stop getting involved in my dates.” bucky shrugs, maintaining his innocence from before without an affirmation of the accusation.
“and barnes?” bucky pretends to think about it, but he knows exactly what he wants. everyone else on the table knows it too. and, honestly, his intermittent flirting with her should have tipped her off, but y/n was still oblivious.
“if i win… you let me take you out.” y/n’s eyes widen.
“you wanna kill me?” the table erupts into laughs at her confusion.
“what? no! i meant on a date - jesus, y/n.” she still looked confused.
“why would you want to take me out?”
“duh, so that i can keep getting involved in your dates. can’t complain when i am the date.” y/n narrowed her eyes at bucky’s joking answer. did she want to go on a date with bucky? well, as much as she’d imagined it, she also knew that the purpose of it, knowing bucky, would be to embarrass her in some way.
“i.. i don’t-” y/n paused, before looking at the encouraging face of nat. sighing, she nodded, “alright, fuck it, sure.” everyone cheered at the affirmation, as they all excitedly thought about the fact that the compound would be that much less negative over the next few days.
it had lasted over a month. everyone had started frothing for another argument between the two - even steve missed playing the part of a disappointed father at y/n and bucky’s antics. but there were no antics to chastise. to everyone else, the pair had been borderline civil for the entire month.
but bucky and y/n were both just one bad day away from throwing the entirety of their hard work during this stupid bet away.
y/n had one too many cases of a subtle, snide remark from bucky, ones that she was so ready to retort to, but then the judging glance of either nat or sam would pop up, and the insult on her lips would switch to one of endearment.
bucky’d been very shocked the first time she’d said she loved him. sure, he knew she didn’t mean it, but it didn’t stop his heart from stilling for a half-second. he’d sent another of those remarks in her direction - asserting that his favorite movie far surpassed hers - and she made this face, one that told him she was about to tell him how incredibly, stupidly wrong he was. that was when nat had let out an inconspicuous cough, and the beratement had changed:
“i swear to god i-” she glanced at nat, sighing, before turning back to bucky - a pained smile on her face, “i love ya, barnes.” she’d left before she could’ve seen his reaction. lucky for him, as he couldn’t hide it - yet nat was still there to notice it.
but everytime he insulted her, y/n worried about what would happen on this date he wanted to take her on. so she bit her tongue - and even kept her eye-rolling to a minimum.
similarly, as much as y/n had made a career out of poking and prodding at him the past few weeks, bucky also learned to take the hits without any retorts. he thought about actually taking her out on a date that she loved - if not for the sake of the bet, then to see the look of shock on her face when she realized just how well she could really be treated. and everytime he was close to breaking, he remembered why he wanted this so badly.
the other day, he had heard music coming from the kitchen. it was faint - and he could tell he was really only picking it up because of his enhanced senses. regardless, as he walked closer, he could make out the song - an oh, so, familiar sinatra. in fact, he was pretty sure it was his favorite song.
he was ready to walk in and greet steve, but stopped in his tracks when he realized that it was, instead, y/n, making herself some breakfast. upon noticing him, she popped an earbud out. the sound increased a bit and, upon seeing bucky focus on it, she smiles.
“can you hear it?” bucky, knowing himself to be caught, shrugged.
“yeah, i - i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-” as he rambled out an apology - the words felt funny coming out of his mouth - he’s interrupted by her tossing the earbud to him.
he takes it, a quizzical look on his face.
“you can listen too - it’s your type of music, right?”
she didn’t say it as an insult, and they both reverted to silence after he popped the ear bud in. she shuffled around the stove, carefully crafting her scrambled eggs, while he tampered with the coffee machine. vision had recently taught him to use it and, regardless of his initial confusion over the ai-turned-robot, he’d graciously accepted the help.
y/n swore that it was steve who got her into older music, but, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it was actually bucky. in fact, he’d spent an entire week blaring 40s music whenever he was with her. his initial excuses were that he was too technologically inept to figure out how to use ear buds, but he figured it out pretty quickly after y/n gave him a taste of his own medicine by blaring top 100s and her own playlists. it worked out, somehow, for the both of them - with bucky and y/n both incorporating the others’ tastes into their own.
bucky admired the wholly domestic nature of the scene he was in, before it was interrupted when she had asked for it - her earbud - back, retreating to her room with her breakfast.
but now, regardless of just how much both of them wanted to win, they were both at their breaking points. the team, seeing all the gritted teeth and forced smiles, knew this was the calm before the storm. and, god, was that storm brewing.
it all culminated on a friday night on the fringe between autumn and winter. the power to y/n’s room had somehow gone out, leaving her without light, heat or friday on a dark, cold, and lonely night. she had found some solace swaddled in blankets on the couch in the living room.
she was on the phone with natasha, who was currently in belarus with steve - and was unwinding for a mission in the morning. as she was bemoaning her situation, bucky entered stage left.
“damn, what’s with the cocoon?” he gestured to the heaps of blankets on her, and y/n tried so hard not to pay any attention, “no, seriously, did christmas come early? do i have to help steve bring in the tree again-?”
“barnes, shut the fuck up or i swear to god i’ll shove a christmas tree up your ass-!” a shocked gasp from natasha cut y/n off, but the damage was already done. she looked at bucky with wide, devastated eyes at her own loss, as he started laughing.
it soon turned into a guffaw, as y/n struggled to escape both her cocoon and her predicament.
“y/n?” nat’s voice rings out from behind them, “how did- you lost the bet?” finally being able to stand up, y/n brandishes her phone in her hand.
“well, that was fun, everyone!” y/n’s sarcasm was off the charts, and she could hear nat calling out for steve in the background, “i’m going into my room and - i don’t know, crying, probably?” bucky was wheezing at her reaction, and she began her trek of shame back to her room.
a week had passed since the loss, and y/n had gotten her fair share of teasing. it was also found out that others had placed their own bets on who would win. in a shocking turn of events, a true ‘et tu, brutus’ moment, steve had been one of those who had bet against bucky winning.
bucky’d told her to be ready by 4 the following saturday. he’d kept absolutely everything about the venue and activities a secret, leaving y/n to really experiment on the evening of.
after a little wanted advice from nat, and some unwanted advice from sam, she settled on a semi-casual outfit. he was waiting by the compound exit - surprisingly punctual, in an outfit that looked… serious? like he was being serious about everything. y/n narrowed her eyes as she approached him, ready for an impromptu surprise to spring out at her. instead, she was met with bucky smiling warmly, greeting her as he slowly came up to hug her.
it was the first time they’d touched so intimately but, as much as she wanted to sink into it, she knew it was probably a way to lull her into a false sense of security. nevertheless, she reciprocated.
“alright, buck. where’re we going?” her curiosity got the better of her as they parted, having over-thought far too much about where he’d be taking her.
“s’a surprise. you’ll just have to wait and see.” his tone was playful, instead of teasing, “shall we?” bucky held his arm out to her and she, tentatively, took it.
“i’m not gonna lie to you, though, i think you’re far too well-dressed for the occasion.” she looked down at herself, confused, as her outfit was relatively casual.
“where on earth are you taking me?” before answering, he glanced around, looking at the street names.
“ah, fuck it. we’re nearly there anyways, so…” y/n waited expectantly, “y’know how you’re always gushing to the team about steve’s dog? and how you nearly got distracted in moscow a couple months ago because of a dog?” y/n did absolutely remember, as bucky’d looked ready to smack her upside the head for getting distracted during a mission, “well, nat told me that you were worried you were too busy to get your own. so…” he gestured to a building in front of them, and y/n gasped.
it was a animal rescue shelter, and y/n was ready to faint.
“are we getting a dog - ‘cause you’ve gotta be careful, barnes. that’s like the equivalence of a proposal to me.” bucky smiled, before holding his hands out.
“damn, you got me. y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time coming-” as he spoke he started sinking down, and y/n’s heart dropped. upon seeing her reaction, one of abject horror he laughed, straightening himself back out, “nah, i’m just fucking with you.” y/n let out a sigh of relief, before swatting at his arm.
“god, you’re such an ass!” instead of responding, he points to a sign on the window of the shelter.
“anyways, no - we’re not getting a dog. i found this place a while back, and thought you might like it. they let you interact with any dog for as long as you want - take them on walks, play with them, whatever. it encourages adoptions, and it increases donations too, i think. you said you can’t own one, so i figured this was the next best thing.” when y/n looked at bucky, she found him a bit sheepish. wrongfully so, as this was the best proposition anyone’d ever given her.
“i - i’m in love with this - oh my god.” she was a bit speechless, more giddy than anything, but her sentence left bucky much more relieved.
“really - oh, thank god, i was worried you wouldn’t like it-”
“i love it. so much.” of her own volition, she reached down to squeeze his hand, the feeling of his palm against hers oddly perfect. he smirked, and suppressed a tease when noticing the look of wonder on her face, before they decided to walk in.
“oh, and the one with the black and brown spots?”
“uno?”
“yes - god, he was so cute!” y/n had been non-stop gushing as they made their way back to the compound. most people were out so, as they walked in, they found themselves alone and reminiscent in the kitchen.
bucky’d poured the both of them a drink, smiling to himself at her adorable ramblings.
“so, i’m assuming you enjoyed it?” when he turned around to hand her glass to her, she hid the width of her smile behind it.
“yeah, it was cool.” her nonchalance was immediately called out by an eyebrow raise from bucky, so she scoffed light-heartedly, “okay, fine. it was definitely one of the best dates i’ve ever been on.” expecting him to have a smug smile on his face, she was surprised to see one of genuine relief. she took a sip, before wiping her lips as she put the glass down, “i do hate you, though.”
“what, why?”
“because now my wish to adopt a dog has grown exponentially,” bucky smiled, thanking god there was no actual problem.
“hey, there’s date number two’s planning done.” they both laughed, before the atmosphere became a it more serious.
“buck?”
“hmm?”
“i - okay, i’m gonna say something, and i’m gonna sound like a bitch, but i’m gonna say it.” bucky nodded, waiting expectantly, “when you first mentioned taking me out as your prize for winning the bet, i thought you were only gonna take me out to… i don’t know, embarrass me?” his mouth hung open at her admittance, and she placed her head in her hands, “god, that’s such a terrible thing to say, i know-” before she can continue, she’s cut off by bucky’s fingers tentatively grazing her chin. she removes her hands to see him, and immediately registers a reclusive sadness in his eyes.
“can i admit something?” she nods, confused as to what he’ll say, “i’ve wanted to take you out on a date for months. i always figured you wouldn’t be interested in it, but realized that this stupid bet would be a way for me to show you how much i do care about you - and just how i think you should be treated. i hate myself for ruining all those dates for you, but i knew that none of them cared about you - or knew how to treat you right.” he took a deep breath, “you should hate me. i’ve bothered you time and time again because i didn’t know how to talk to you properly.” there’s a rather heavy silence, as he retracts from her. she pulls him back, faced with closed, ashamed eyes.
“bucky?” he doesn’t respond, so she continues, “i would like nothing more than to go on a second date with you.” he opens his eyes in shock, and sees a small, playful smile on her face. he mirrors her.
“even after-”
“even after everything, buck. why’d you think i went on the worst dates ever - i never put too much thought into it. everytime i’d get dressed up for some other guy, i’d be distracted thinking about you.” they both laugh, before bucky’s face grows serious again.
“well, we got a lot out of this date, right?”
“tell me about it.”
“it’s also nice to know how you’re gonna react to the proposal,” he contorted his face to mimic and mock the look of horror on her own earlier that evening.
“oh, come on, you know that’s not what i meant.”
bucky smiled at her, a little giddy at the thought of how he’d finally taken the step that made their relationship that much better.
#mcu imagine#marvel#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#mcu#the winter soldier#sebastian stan#the bet#brooklyn nine nine
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HACKS APPRECIATION WEEK — Day 6: Favourite Episode Episode 7, Tunnel of Love dir. Desiree Akhavan
I could make a genuine case for at least 5 episodes being my favourite, easlily, but Tunnel of Love has a special place on my heart. The build up to it and they pay off it delivers on it so satisfying.
Where do I even begin?
Firstly, it’s the way that we see the backstory build for DJ and Deborah, particularly from D’Jlwry and New Eyes reach a critical mass in the dinner table scene which is a contended for my favourite scene in the whole show but is absolutely in the top 5. It’s is a masterclass in revealing information to the audience, and again, we go on that journey with Ava and she is perfectly primed to watch them both getting triggered and lashing out and understanding exactly why it is happening the way it is but not being able to stop it.
The way Deborah immediately regrets what she says but couldn’t stop herself, because not only is there so much unprocessed trauma but it is so raw from telling Ava the truth. The way Ava looks are her when DJ walks away from the table and no one else can meet her gaze, can even bare to look at her. It’s also where we get Ava’s “you found someone you loves you for exactly who you are,” which is one of my favourite lines in the while show.
We get the internal power struggle between Josefina and Damien, a wonderful layer and piece of world building. We get pukka shell necklace Marcus and more of his history with Deborah and Wilson challenging him. We understand that he has truly devoted his entire adult life to Deborah’s empire and how deeply it hurts him to be disregarded for this new blossoming dynamic with Ava.
I love Kiki obviously, the way she talks about Luna and how she and Ava are a little duo for the entire party and the way she and Deborah greet each other absolutely brimming with genuine affection and joy. I love DJ and Aidan, the bicep flexing and the piano playing and the eloping. I love the Cornell joke, that fucking gets me everytime and I’ve been rewatching Broad City lately and the way Hannah performs Ava’s fumbling response reminds me so much of Abbi Jacobson’s delivery it’s insane.
I even have a soft spot for Marty in this episode, I know. But the stuff with the mayor is hilarious and it’s good writing and good acting that puts you in Deborah’s shoes and you ride the toxic, bittersweet, tragic ride with her as she softens towards him this episode. I’m always touched by him looking at the picture of young DJ before Ava calls about the wedding. Listen, I don’t ship Deb/Marty (obviously) and they will never work, they could never have worked, and I’m sure that so much about their relationship has fucked with Deborah beyond belief. It’s an awful cycle of self loathing and mind games and never feeling good enough. It’s Marty’s ego getting in his own damn way. But I can’t lie, I watch the final scene in the episode and when Deborah is laughing and it’s so fucking infectious. Jean and Chris are incredible. I can’t control the smile on my face watching her, she fucking glows and it doesn’t matter that I know he fucks it all up in the morning and doesn’t have the guts to tell her the truth in the moment, the nose nuzzle fucking gets me ok?
Speaking of kisses, didn’t think I’d forget that did you? I STILL cannot believe we got a kiss, it doesn’t matter that it was a dream, Hannah won’t let me forget that she and Jean have KISSED. I just, I’ll say it a million times and still not be able to express how much it means that they went there, that Ava is a jealous, flustered mess the entire episode and that Kiki isn’t even remotely phased at the idea of Ava being into Deborah.
I will never not lose my mind over it or the way Deb gets when Ava leaves with DJ and Aidan or the fact that Ava calls her and it just like I know you won’t want to miss this. And she doesn’t. I just get so overwhelmed thinking about how much they give to each other.
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Meeting Doc (Marty McFly x Reader)
Characters: Marty McFly, Emmet ‘Doc’ Brown
Fandom: Back to the Future
Tags: Meeting the family
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,4k words
Requested by (Marty) anon: hey Trish!! would you be up for a Marty ficlet where he takes reader (his s/o) with him to meet Doc, and Doc's kind of apprehensive and protective of Marty at first but after awhile he warms up to reader and they all just end up goofing off together at the end? have a wonderful day :)
Link: AO3
A/N: Here it is! I hope you like it, lovely! It was fun to write and to explore this side of the characters!
Reblogs and comments are appreciated!! // Masterlist
Marty McFly x Gender Neutral Reader
Everyone in Hill Valley had heard about Doctor Brown. He was the strange scientist of the town. Some called him crazy and some called him dangerous. Being Marty McFly’s partner, though, you pictured a very different version of that same man.
In Marty’s eyes, Doc was a genius. He was a misunderstood person who was in love with science and very passionate about it, constantly trying out new inventions that would quench his curiosity and help the world.
Perhaps none of those versions were true, but merely the projections of the people that looked at him. Nonetheless, you were more inclined to believe Marty than everyone else. Of course, it helped that Marty was your boyfriend, but Doc didn’t seem dangerous. At the very least, he was a very interesting and unique person that you couldn’t wait to meet.
“Okay” Marty stopped before Doc’s residence, licking his lips and turning to you.
You didn’t know who was more nervous about this meeting, you or Marty. Although you weren’t sure if you would make a good first impression, it was clear that this was very important to Marty too. The both of you were the most important people in his life, and he couldn’t bear the thought of you two not getting along.
“Okay….” He repeated, taking a deep breath. “Are you ready, Y/N?”
“Yeah” You smiled at him and took his hand. “I’m excited to meet him”
“Now, before we come in…” Marty paused, lifting your hand and patting it. “You know Doc’s a little...”
“What?”
“Well… you may think he’s a bit… wacky”
“So I heard”
“Yeah, I know, but…” Marty kept playing with your hand, moving it around as he tried to push out any of his nervous energy. “It takes a bit to really get him, you know? But once you do, he’s the best”
“What are you trying to say?”
“He’s just different from everyone else in Hill Valley”
“Marty” You patiently said, returning to your sweet smile. “I know what people say about Doc, and it doesn’t bother me”
“Really?” He finally smiled, sighing in relief once you eased his fear.
“Yeah, he might be different, but that just means he’s not boring” You paused, watching how his tense shoulders relaxed slightly. “I want to meet him, and not just because you want me to. I want to meet your friend, who also happens to seem like a very interesting person”
“You’re the best” Marty leaned in to kiss you in the cheek. “Let’s come in then”
You took a deep breath as he opened the door for you. Immediately, you were received with a very different environment than the one you were just in outside of the house. The entire room was dark and felt heavy with electricity. It also smelled slightly like chemicals.
A sudden fear reached you once you realized you knew nothing about science. What if you had nothing in common with Doc to get along with him? It would break Marty’s heart if you two just stood there awkwardly.
“Doc?” He called out, bringing you back to reality as he tugged at your hand, directing you with him through the messy house. “Doc, we’re here!”
After some rustling, footsteps were heard. A tall man with disheveled white hair appeared wearing a white lab coat, with wide eyes and goggles over his forehead.
“Great Scott!” The man muttered, quickly looking at his wristwatch. “Is it time already?”
“Yeah” Marty put his hands on your shoulders. “Y/N is here”
“Doctor Brown!” You smiled at him, offering your hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Marty has told me all about you”
The man stayed distant for a moment as he carefully watched you.
“Yeah, yeah…” He dryly said, absently shaking your hand. “You too”
“Y/N was really excited to meet you, Doc” Marty beamed, shaking you around a little as though passing over to you more of that excitement.
The man only nodded, lifting his chin up and looking down at you. His brown eyes were filled with distrust. Suddenly, that eagerness you felt died down. Instead, it was replaced by a cold disappointment.
Marty had talked so highly of Doc that you thought he was one of the best people in Hill Valley. However, now that you had met him in person, he behaved in a petty manner.
“Tell me, how long have you and Marty been together?” He then asked, to make matters worse. His tone was harsh and judgmental.
“Doc…” Marty complained, but you answered the question nonetheless.
“Almost a year”
“Do you get good grades?”
“Doc!”
The man shut his mouth, looking at his friend in startle. You clenched your jaw, standing up straight to show him you weren’t intimidated by his questioning.
“Is this an interview?” You demanded to know, forcing him to face you.
The two of you glared at each other, further challenging one another. You could feel Marty’s eyes moving from him to you. He stirred in the spot before finally piping up.
“Uh… y-you know what?” Marty nervously said, passing a hand through his hair. “Why don’t I show Y/N that thing you invented? You know, that gadget thingy”
“Very well” Doc replied without glancing at him, too busy staring at you.
“I’ll be right back!” Marty exclaimed as he ran off, trying to take as little time away from you as possible.
As soon as your boyfriend disappeared in the next room, you acquired a defensive stance to mask your outrage. No matter how smart ‘Doc’ was, you weren’t going to let him do that.
“Doctor Brown” You gravely began. “With all due respect, I don’t know what your problem with me is, and I honestly don’t care. I think we should put our differences aside for Marty’s sake”
He opened his mouth to reply, but you interrupted, foreseeing a complaint.
“If you don’t like me for, that’s alright” You continued, peering up at him to meet his tall stature. “But it’s very important to Marty that we get along, so I suggest you do it for him if you really care so much about him”
The scientist stared at you in awe. After a moment of surprise, he smiled at you.
“You are absolutely right”
“T-Thank you”
“I apologize, it was unfair of me to treat you like that” Doc bowed his head down as a sign of respect. “I was only looking out for Marty, but if you truly care so much about him, I must have been too quick to judge you”
“Of course I care about Marty!” You loudly said, lowering your tone when you realized he might return soon. “That is why I wanted to meet you on the first place, Doctor Brown!”
“As did I” He sighed, shaking his head to himself. “Forgive me, Y/N, I merely wanted to ensure you were good for Marty. He is an extraordinary young man and he deserves the very best”
“I agree” Now that the tension had dissipated, a more comfortable silence established. However, you crossed your arms, trying to appear nonchalant. “And well… am I good for him?”
“I’m here!” Marty arrived just then, interrupting the scientist before he could reply. However, the smile in his lips was answer enough.
“Ah, thank you, Marty” He said instead, taking a small oval shaped gadget from him.
“What were you talking about?” The young man looked from one to the other again.
“I was telling Y/N that… I was frustrated with a project… but that is no excuse, I still shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m sorry”
“Thank you. And it’s alright”
“Allow me to start again” Doc cleared his throat, offering you his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m Doctor Emmett Brown, but you can call me Emmett”
“It’s nice to meet you, Emmett” You replied with a smile, giving his hand a firm but gentle shake.
A pause followed. Watching Marty with the corner of your eye, you realized he was smiling wide and had the emotion reflected in his eyes. You smiled to yourself.
“Tell me, Y/N” Emmett then said, motioning in a friendly gesture. “Would you like to know how my invention works?”
“I would love to” You took Marty’s hand, following Doc as he went to turn all the lights on and demonstrate to you how his new invention worked.
Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @fandomxreaders / @fortheloveofbenyandtom / @caswinchester2000 / @dancingwith-sunflowers / @welcome-here-in-my-world / @unstable-puffin-writing // Send an ask if you want to be added to the tag list for this fandom!
#marty mcfly x reader#marty mcfly imagine#marty mcfly ficlet#marty mcfly#back to the future#back to the future x reader#back to the future imagine#back to the future ficlet#bttf#bttf x reader#bttf imaigne#bttf ficlet#emmett brown#doc brown#emmett l brown#reader insert#requested#faves#rfi writings
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Like A Fairytale
A/N: Kensi and Deeks enjoy some alone time on Christmas. Some adult content.
Merry Christmas!
***
Kensi sighed as Deeks pulled his truck in front of a small cabin, decked out with small twinkle lights and a few decorations. With a dusting of fresh snow on the roof, it looked very close to a real gingerbread house. It wasn’t as close to the resort and attractions since it was a privately owned house, but it meant they could stay for a week for the same price as renting a cabin directly.
“I forgot how beautiful it is here,” she said, turning in time to see Deeks’ smile. Over the last few years, they hadn’t made it up to Mammoth at all. It was especially welcome after all the stress and disappointment of last year.
“It is pretty perfect,” Deeks agreed. “Come on, let’s go in. There’s a hot tub calling my name.”
He took her hand as they walked along the salted path to the front door, which bore a holly and fir tree wreath. Deeks punched in the the security code, toting their bags in as they walked into a small entryway.
While Deeks went to grab another load from the truck, she explored the rest of the house. In the den, she found a small tree decorated with silver and blue icicle ornaments and garland and a collection of blankets, books, and games in baskets next to a fireplace.
Kensi was sure they’d make good use of the fire, but didn’t know if they’d get around to enjoying the games or books. It was a nice gesture though.
Grabbing the small cooler they’d brought with, Kensi moved on to the kitchen. Like most of the rooms, it was small, but nicely furnished. On the table, there was a gift basket filled with fruit, cheese, and chocolate, along with a note that read,
Merry Christmas Kensi and Marty,
We provided a complimentary fruit basket, champagne, and dinner to get your vacation off to a good start.
We hope you enjoy your stay and the holidays.
The Wegmans
There appeared to be an entire chicken dinner, with rolls and dessert included in the fridge and a few meals worth of sandwich fixings. Grabbing a salted chocolate caramel from the basket, Kensi wandered back out to the front of the house.
Deeks was bent in front of the fireplace, his hair flopping into his as he concentrated on lighting a pile of kindling. She was overwhelmed by a rush of affection for him and spent a minutes just watching him work. It had been so long since she’d taken the time to appreciate the way he moved, the gentle strength of his hands.
When he had a nice little fire going, Kensi crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist as he rose.
“Hey.” He pulled her into his side, kissing her temple with a sigh.
“Hi. The owners left us dinner and other treats,” she told him.
“Oh, yeah, I might have mentioned that we haven’t been on a real vacation in a few years when I made the reservations,” Deeks said with a shrug. “And several reviewers mentioned that the Wegmans always go above and beyond to make sure their renters have a pleasant experience.”
“You really did think of everything, didn’t you?”
“I tried. Is it too much?”
Kensi was vaguely astounded that he’d think she might have a problem with him creating an extremely romantic getaway. Rising up in her toes, she kissed him softly, lingering to show her appreciation.
“It’s perfect,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair. “Thank you, Baby.” Deeks sighed, leaning into her touch, closing his eyes briefly.
“So, you wanna break into that dinner?” he suggested, dropping his linked hands to her lower back.
“Dinner can wait,” Kensi decided, drawing his lips back to hers. She sank to the floor, drawing Deeks with her and sighed when his lips found her neck.
***
Deeks’ skin was soft beneath Kensi’s fingers as she ran them down his back and across his stomach. He shivered, making a pleasant sound, but didn’t move from his spot a few inches from the fire. Kensi was nicely warm tucked into his side.
“So much for the hot tub,” he said, flashing her half a smile. The rest of his face was smashed into the floor rug.
“Are you complaining?” Kensi asked, pretty sure of his answer. As far as she was concerned, they’d just spent a very enjoyable hour together.
“No, definitely not,” Deeks assured her quickly. “I’m just going to have some rug burn in uncomfortable places.” He lifted his head and let his gaze run over her. “But totally worth it,” he added, his voice dropping to a low, almost gravely tone that sent a rush of heat through her at the memory of their very recent activities.
Palming her hip, Deeks gently squeezed and rolled her onto her back, sliding over her. She welcomed the heavy weight of his body pressed against hers. He started to prop himself up on his forearms, but Kensi hooked her leg around his waist, keeping him in place.
Kensi arched into him as Deeks kissed her neck, smoothing her hands down his back. When she reached his butt, she rolled her hips and squeezed him. Deeks broke his patter of kisses with a gasp, letting out a breathy chuckle.
“Oh god,” he sighed. “At this rate, we’re going to starve.”
“Completely worth it,” Kensi decided, grinning against his mouth as she kissed him.
***
A/N: No, I don’t think a rental house would have a functioning wood-burning fireplace, but it’s a little more romantic.
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Can you please post screenshots from the new Athletic post from Peter 👉👈🥺🥺
i got you!!! i'm just gonna post the text and the pictures!
About half an hour after an intense playoff practice ended, Jared Bednar wandered back to the concrete circle surrounding the boards at Family Sports Ice Arena, where he greeted a smiling, blonde-haired 22-year-old. The 49-year-old Avalanche coach and his visitor shared a connection, both having played for the same junior hockey team as teenagers: the Humboldt Broncos in Humboldt, Saskatchewan.
Graysen Cameron, the guest at the Avalanche’s practice Tuesday, was a winger for the Broncos in 2018 when a semi-trailer hit the team bus, killing 16 people, including 10 of his teammates. Cameron suffered a broken back as well as a concussion and an eye injury. At the time, doctors thought he wouldn’t be able to play hockey again, and a photo from the hospital went viral of him and two teammates grasping hands.
“Bonding and healing,” read the caption, written by the father of Derek Patter, one of the other injured players.
“Just to see the strength of the people of that community and the families that were affected has been amazing,” said Bednar, who played for Humboldt from 1989 to 1991, on the three-year anniversary of the crash. “A bunch of amazing people there.”
In the aftermath of the crash, Cameron met Marty Richardson, the president and CEO of Dawg Nation, a Denver-based nonprofit dedicated to helping hockey players and their families in times of crisis, and the former Broncos player came to two of the organization’s events in Colorado. This week’s visit was less organized, as a cross-country road trip brought Cameron to town. He and his girlfriend, Madi Lynch, had been visiting his brother in South Carolina and were driving back to Alberta. He reached out to Richardson last week to see if he could stay with him while passing through Denver.
He’s gotten much more than a spare bed.
“I wasn’t going to just have him hang out here,” Richardson said. “I said ‘let’s make this a really neat trip.’”
Richardson took Cameron and Lynch to Game 1 against Vegas on Sunday, and they sat in a box with Avalanche great Milan Hejduk, an honorary board member for Dawg Nation. At one point, a few people slipped out of the box and returned with a jersey of Cameron’s favorite Avalanche player: 22-year-old defenseman Cale Makar, who Cameron watched play junior hockey while they grew up in Alberta.
Then, on Monday, Richardson texted Bednar to ask about attending the Avalanche’s skate Tuesday. The coach responded that practice would be closed to the public — but not to them.
So the three came to Family Sports Ice Arena just ahead of the 11 a.m. skate and, shortly after their arrival, met broadcaster Peter McNab, who played 14 years in the NHL and, like Hejduk, is a Dawg Nation honorary board member. They then picked out second-row seats and watched the Avalanche get to work.
“It’s a really cool experience, and I’m very grateful to watch these guys perform at their best and get ready for a big game tomorrow,” Cameron said as the players skated.
He of course enjoyed watching Makar, and he appreciated seeing Nathan MacKinnon’s speed up close. When practice started winding down, McNab walked back toward him and they talked about how fast the game looks at ice level.
As players started leaving the ice, Bednar put Richardson in touch with security, who led them down to the area next to the rink. That’s where Bednar came and met them.
“I really didn’t know what was going to happen,” Richardson said. “It was way better than (expected).”
Bednar, who is from near Humboldt and helped create the Humboldt Broncos Memorial Golf Tournament, talked to Cameron for around 15 minutes about his trip and the Avalanche’s second-round series, which they lead 1-0. The coach signed a photo for Cameron and is also giving him and Lynch tickets for Game 2 on Wednesday.
“You definitely see his character and the type of person he is,” Cameron said of Bednar, who he had met previously at the golf tournament. “He has a big heart and likes making people’s days.”
Added Richardson: “He’s clearly someone that thinks of others before himself, even when he’s in a really stressful time, which he is right now (with the playoffs).”
The special moments weren’t over. Richardson asked Bednar if he could have Makar sign Cameron’s jersey they’d bought two nights before as well as one for the son of a Dawg Nation’s sponsor. Bednar took both sweaters into the dressing room.
“He came out and handed me the jerseys back (unsigned),” Richardson said. “And he said ‘Cale wants to sign them out here. He wants to meet Graysen.’”
Graysen Cameron, Avalanche defenseman Cale Makar and Madi Lynch pose for a photo together. (Photo courtesy Marty Richardson)
Moments later, the star blueliner, who will likely be a Norris Trophy finalist this year, walked out of the dressing room area. He approached Cameron, shook his hand and posed a picture with him and Lynch. Then, as requested, he signed the white No. 8 on Cameron’s jersey. He stuck around for about five minutes, and then Bednar returned with forward Tyson Jost, the only other Avalanche player from Alberta.
“It was pretty low-key,” Cameron said. “Talked about the last game a bit, how they did and what they’re kind of expecting coming up. Just some hockey talk.”
Though he initially thought his own hockey career was over after the crash, Cameron recovered from his injuries. His first hockey game after the bus accident came in October 2019, at a Dawg Nation charity event in Colorado. He suited up alongside 10 current or former NHL players — including former Avs players Paul Stastny, now with the Jets, and Kyle Quincey, who retired in 2019 — and even scored a goal, bringing tears to his dad’s eyes.
Shortly after, he made his return to the Broncos, becoming the team’s first captain since the crash.
“Following in (the late) Logan Schatz’s footsteps there — my former captain — it was really emotional,” he said. “I just felt really honored and grateful to be a leader on that team.”
He played in 46 games that season, collecting 13 points, then suffered an ACL tear in his last game. But he rehabbed the injury and was able to play three games this past season with Northland College, a Division III school in Ashland, Wisc.
At season’s end, though, he decided to call it a career. His body had been through a lot.
“It just was starting to weigh on me mentally and physically,” he said. “ I’m happy and content with (the decision), but you always miss the game and miss being a part of practice.”
And that made watching the Avalanche skate Tuesday even more special.
“It’s really cool to see these guys do that,” he said.
Cameron is an Oilers fan thanks to his father — “he corrupted me at a young age,” he joked — so his childhood favorite team is out of the playoffs. But thanks to Bednar, Richardson, Makar and others around the organization, he didn’t hesitate when asked who he’s pulling for to win the Stanley Cup.
“Go Avs,” he said.
#colorado avalanche#long post#cale makar#jared bednar#Humboldt Broncos#injury cw#death cw#Graysen Cameron
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