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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

Text

Agendas & Arrangements

A JSE Fanfic

Another one of these! After the events of the last chapter, we have to see how things follow up. Our good Dr. Laurens is back, and the boys receive yet more shocking news. And what’s going to happen to Jackie now? Only time will tell. Also fun fact, this is the first chapter in which Schneep doesn’t appear in some way. I almost included a scene with him, but there wasn’t much changed with him. Whereas the others have had a lot happen to them that we should check up on jdsklafhjk

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Chase’s phone was ringing. Which might not have bothered him too much, if it hadn’t woken him up. He groaned and rolled over, wiggling his arm out of the blanket and reaching towards the nightstand. And his hand hit a lamp instead of his phone. Mildly surprised and confused, Chase pushed the blankets away from his head. The plain room was initially unfamiliar, and he wondered why he wasn’t in his bedroom. He briefly considered the possibility that he’d gotten drunk out on the town and gotten a hotel for the night—that had happened once before, but only once!—before he remembered that he’d stayed the night in the spare room at JJ’s apartment.

Sighing, he grabbed his phone, now able to see where it was on the nightstand. He didn’t recognize the number, so he put the phone back down and tried to go back to sleep. But he found that hard to do when the ringing immediately started up again the second it stopped. And then it did it again. And by that point, he resigned himself to not going back to sleep but was still reluctant to pick up a call from a strange number. He stretched and stood up, starting to leave the room before doubling back and grabbing his phone, stuffing it into his pocket despite the ringing.

Walking back into the main area, Chase was met with a delicious smell. He glanced into the kitchen area to see JJ sitting at the table with a plate in front of him He looked up immediately and waved. Good morning, Chase! he said, looking considerably more cheery than he had been last night. He pointed at a basket sitting in the center of the table. Muffin?

“Uh...sure.” Chase walked on over, grabbing a chocolate chip muffin from the basket and sitting down. “You, uh...going to work?” He was initially about to ask how Jameson was doing, but wasn’t sure if it was okay to get right into it.

JJ smiled a bit. Chase, would I wear a suit for anything else?

“I dunno, you’re always well-dressed. You’re Mr. Long Sleeved Button-Up In The Middle Of Summer.” In fact, JJ’s current state of dress was making him well aware of the fact that he’d slept in his clothes last night.

Chase, please. JJ made a tutting sound. I would never go that far. It gets really hot that time of year.

“Hmm, I’ve seen a couple of times when you’ve done that,” Chase said, laughing a bit. “Dude, it’s like, eight in the morning, when did you have time to get ready and make muffins?”

Oh, I didn’t make these, JJ explained. Emily did. My neighbor. She dropped them off earlier, apparently she made an extra batch. His expression fell for a moment. I...apparently she figured out something happened last night. I wasn’t aware she paid that much attention. After a moment, he shook his head and smiled a bit. Still, it was very kind of her.

“...yeah, it was.” Chase decided not to press the issue any further. He could tell JJ didn’t want to talk about last night just yet. “Maybe your walls are thin. Though I’d be surprised if they are, you’d think a place like this would have better walls.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. Whatever do you mean, Chase? He signed innocently.

“Dude. You’re the one with a two-bed two-bath apartment in the middle of the fucking city, don’t come at me with that,” Chase said jokingly.

Ah, fair point. JJ paused for a moment, long enough for the two of them to eat their muffins in silence. But after a while, JJ asked, Chase, are you aware that your phone is ringing? And, well...has been? This whole time?

Chase sighed deeply. “Yeah.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It’s the same number, I don’t know who the fuck it is or why they’re so insistent.”

Maybe it’s important? JJ suggested. I mean, if they’ve been ringing you for five minutes now.

“Maybe...maybe I know them but didn’t put them in my contacts,” Chase reasoned. After a moment’s hesitation, he grumbled, “If this is a scam I’m gonna be so pissed,” and accepted the call, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

A strange voice asked, “Is this Mr. Chase Brody?”

“Uh, who is this?” Chase asked.

“My name is Detective Nix. Are you Mr. Chase Brody?”

“Um...” Chase’s heart rate suddenly quickened. “Yeah, I mean, speaking. What’s this about?”

“Well, according to our records, you’re the one who reported a Jackie Donovan as missing, about ten months ago? Is that correct?”

If Chase’s heart rate sped up before, it skyrocketed now. He sat up straight. “Um, y-yeah, that’s, uh...that’s me. Why? Has something happened?”

“We now have a lead, and I’d like you to come down to the police on Tenley so we can discuss this in person.”

“Shit—I-I mean, yeah, I’ll be right there.” Chase stood up, pushing back his chair, and began looking around for his jacket. JJ watched him, eyes wide.

“Excellent. I’ll meet you there.” The call ended.

As soon as Chase put the phone down, JJ started asking questions. What was that about? Who was that?

“Some detective guy,” Chase said absentmindedly. He spotted his jacket on the sofa back in the living room area, and rushed over to grab it, explaining as he put it on. “He asked me if I was the guy who reported Jackie missing, and I said yes, and he said they had a lead and I needed to go down to discuss it in person.” He zipped up the jacket, now looking around for his cap as he ran his fingers through his hair.

JJ’s eyes widened further. Really?! They might know what happened to him?

“I mean, maybe, he didn’t say much.” Chase was now spinning in place, scanning the apartment for his cap. “Shit, where is it?”

Catching on, JJ stood up and walked over to the spare bedroom, disappearing inside briefly and coming out again with Chase’s cap. He tossed it to him, and Chase fumbled before catching it.

“Thanks,” he breathed, pulling it onto his head.

No problem, JJ said. Do you...do you think Jackie’s alright?

Chase hesitated, then nodded. “I mean...yeah, Jackie’s a tough cookie. He’s probably...alive.” In truth, that was all he felt confident saying. He couldn’t quite make it to ‘alright,’ thinking of all the things that could’ve happened to him. “In any case, I gotta go so they can tell me.”

Right, of course, JJ nodded. I’d ask to come with, but you know. Work.

“Yeah, it sucks. I’ll fill you and Marvin in, though.” Now as ready as he could be on such short notice, Chase headed towards the door, opening it. He turned back to look at JJ. “I’ll see you later.”

See you, JJ signed.

Chase headed out, closing the door behind him and quickly heading towards the elevator. He had to get there quickly. The station on Tenley Street was some ways away, maybe he should drive a little faster than usual? No, that probably wasn’t a good idea. Still, he was already looking up the quickest route on his phone. Though he knew there was no real rush to hear this news, he just...had to hear it as soon as possible. He couldn’t bear the wait.

——————

The Tenley Street police station was pretty small—actually, Chase was still getting used to the fact that a lot of the stations in this country were small and kind of casual-looking. But he could tell this one was weirdly small, probably no more than a place for detectives and officers to do paperwork. He entered the building and found himself in a small waiting-room-type area, with a desk and chairs to sit in, a short hallway leading into the main area of the station. Chase immediately walked up to the officer sitting at the desk and explained the situation, after which the officer told him to wait and turned to leave.

Chase exhaled slowly, backing up. So guess he’d just hang out here. With nothing to do—

“Wait. Chase?”

At the sound of his name, Chase jumped and looked behind him at the voice who’d said it. There was a woman sitting in one of the nearby chairs. Her left arm was in a sling, and she looked rather ragged, but she did look a bit familiar...Chase visibly started as he finally recognized her. “Dr. Laurens?”

Laurens grinned wide, and waved. “It is you! Shit, hi.” She laughed loudly, sounding more relieved than happy.

“Yeah, shit, hi.” Chase hurried on over. “What are you—where have you—what happened to your arm?!”

“It’s...a long story,” Laurens said, suddenly more serious. “What’re you doing here?”

“I, uh, got a call from this detective guy,” Chase said, glancing back at the rest of the room and down the hall to the main area. “He said there was a lead in Jackie’s disappearance, and I guess they wanted to tell me, since I reported it, and there’s not many other people they could tell.” Chase paused. Laurens’s expression had suddenly fallen, turning sad, almost...grieving? “You okay?”

Laurens shook her head. “Yeah, I’m fine, but...” She looked up at Chase. “I think I’m the lead they called you about.”

Chase stared at her, processing this for a moment. “What?”

“That’s part of the long story I mentioned,” Laurens said. She seemed hesitant to say more.

“Um...okay.” Chase took a seat next to her. “You don’t have to tell me about it.”

“Well, Jackie’s your friend, you should know,” Laurens said firmly. She glanced away. “But it looks like the story’ll have to wait a bit.”

Chase followed her gaze. A man in a suit had appeared, walking down the short hall towards the waiting area. His eyes landed on the two of them, and he hurried over. “You must be Mr. Brody,” the man said coolly. “I’m Detective Hooper. I believe my partner, Nix, contacted you this morning?”

“Uh, yeah.” Chase nodded.

“Excellent. And you’ve met Ms. Laurens?”

“Doctor Laurens,” Laurens corrected.

“Yes, yes.” Hooper nodded. “Well, you and Ms. Laurens”—Laurens bristled—“can come with me and we’ll get started. Nix will be with us in a moment.”

“Um...” Chase shifted in his chair, but didn’t get up. “Well, I can’t go with Ms. Laurens, ‘cause there isn’t a Ms. Laurens here. I can come with you and Dr. Laurens, is that alright?”

Hooper sighed impatiently. “Yes, you and Dr. Laurens can follow me. Please.”

Laurens shot Chase a grin, which he returned, and the two of them stood up, following Hooper into the main area of the station—which appeared to be mostly made of desk space, small designated areas with two desks each. Hooper led them past a few of these spaces to one specific one. He took a seat at one of the desks, and pointed the two of them to chairs nearby.

“So...what’s this about?” Chase asked, sitting down first.

“Well, at about five thirty yesterday, this young lady came into the station and demanded that we open up one of our unsolved cases,” Hooper said.

“I’m older than you,” Laurens said, decidedly not sitting down.

Hooper continued like he hadn’t heard her. “Of course, this case was one of mine—”

“Oh, one of yours?” Without much warning, another man appeared, causing Hooper to jump. This new man was older, with gray in his hair, and dressed more casually, but the expression on his face was certainly intimidating. “I’m under the impression that Donovan’s case was mine, well before you became my partner. In fact, I seem to recall you insisting it clearly wasn’t important, as it was unlikely anything new would happen at this point.”

Hooper paled visibly. “Sorry, Nix.”

“Hmm. Apology accepted. Don’t do it again.” The older man looked at Laurens and Chase, and he suddenly relaxed visibly, smiling warmly at the pair. “Mr. Brody, I presume. Detective Nix. We spoke on the phone.” He held out his hand.

“Yeah, I remember.” Chase shook the offered hand. “So what’s going on?”

“Well...” Nix sat down at the other desk, right next to Hooper’s. He glanced over at Laurens, and his face softened. “Please sit down, doctor. You shouldn’t even be out of the hospital, it would be terrible if you injured yourself further.”

“My legs are fine,” Laurens said, but sat down anyway. “And I...I wanted to be here to tell Chase in person.”

“Yes, you two know each other?” Nix asked.

“A little,” Chase said. “Laurens is my friend’s doctor—or, uh, I don’t know if it’s still that way, but we’ve talked. Can, uh...someone tell me what’s going on? What’s happened?” He hated to keep pushing the point, but he didn’t think he could take it any longer.

Nix looked over at Laurens. “Well, I think it would be best if Dr. Laurens told you herself.”

Laurens nodded. She looked down, staying quiet for a moment.

Hooper suddenly spoke up again “We have her recorded testimony here if—”

“Actually, I think it would be best if I told him myself, thanks,” Laurens interrupted. She turned to face Chase. “I, uh. About a month and a half ago, I...uh.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “A man who looked like you—was disguised as you—approached me and attacked. I got knocked out, and when I woke up, I was...with Jackie.”

“You were what?!” Chase gaped. “What? How?”

“Well, the man who attacked me.” Laurens was remaining mostly calm as she spoke, though Chase noticed the way her free hand tapped a wild pattern on the arm of the chair. “It...turns out that he’d kidnapped Jackie. And also Schneep. And then...” She cleared her throat. “...me.”

“Holy shit...” Chase breathed. His mind was racing, but it seemed to keep circling one thing: the conversation he and Marvin had with Jameson the previous night. “Who was this guy? Is Jackie okay? What did he want?”

“Well, Jackie called him Anti,” Laurens explained.

Chase’s heart stopped. It was him. Jameson was right. This Anti, Jameson’s own brother, had been the reason Schneep had disappeared for nine months. What were the odds of that? But...if Anti was really behind Schneep’s disappearance, and now, it was revealed, Jackie’s as well...could he also be behind more? Chase remembered a couple of times, when he’d felt he was being watched, and seen a bystander nearby. He’d initially dismissed it as paranoia, since the bystanders didn’t really seem to be looking at him, but what if...? And the time he’d seen Marvin at the hospital, and Marvin had later denied it. What if Jameson was right, and that was really someone else, someone who was proven to be hostile to his friends? The thought made him shiver.

He listened intently as Laurens laid out the bare bones of what had happened to her—being kept in a basement somewhere with Jackie, Anti interrogating her for information about Schneep, and eventually escaping at the cost of dislocating her wrist. After she was done, he leaned back in his chair. “Holy fuck...” he whispered. Even though Laurens hadn’t given a lot of details, he could tell the experience must’ve been...terrifying.

“That’s not all,” Hooper said. “Ms.—Dr. Laurens showed up here after getting away, saying she had a lead on the Donovan case. Naturally, we were alerted, this being our case. As soon as she told us that we had to get to a certain address as quickly as possible, we mobilized.”

“Yes, we had a team check out this place.” Nix threw a manila folder onto his desk. “860 Underwood Drive, a rather...hmm...high-risk part of the city.” He looked back and forth between Laurens and Chase, landing on Chase. “I called you here today because I thought you should know that, while there was evidence of someone having lived there, and more importantly, evidence of someone else having been held there...the house was empty.”

Chase stared at him. He...actually felt a little breathless. Like he’d been told to walk into a room for a happy surprise, but instead got punched in the stomach. “...what?” he croaked.

Laurens didn’t look much better. She’d gone pale, and her tapping hand suddenly froze. “Are...are you sure?” she asked. “Did you find the basement?”

“Oh yes, we did.” Nix opened the folder, looking down at something inside. “Along with a stash of illegal drugs, stolen hospital equipment, a closet full of things that looked like costume materials, multiple combat-level knives and one handgun, and honestly more that we don’t have time to list.” He snapped the folder shut. “But nobody was there.”

Laurens paled further. “He must’ve left immediately...”

Chase covered his mouth, at a loss for words.

Nix sighed, looking at the other two sympathetically. “There was also no evidence of recent...injury. If he hasn’t harmed Jackie yet, it’s unlikely he will now.”

“He’s definitely harmed him,” Laurens mumbled. “But...I understand.” Nevertheless, Nix’s assurances failed to calm her.

Chase lowered his hand, finally saying something. “You...you have to find him.”

Hooper stared at him. “Understand that if he’s evaded us for this long, it’s unlikely—”

“Yes, thank you, Hooper,” Nix snapped. “Remember that we now know this Anti exists, which changes a lot.” Hooper shut his mouth. Nix looked back at Laurens and Chase. “I understand you’re both also involved in the Schneeplestein case?” When the two of them nodded silently, he continued, “We’ll have to coordinate with the detectives on that case, but I’m sure you can see this information changes everything for that. Dr. Laurens, they may ask to speak to you in addition to your testimony.”

“That’s fine,” Laurens said. “Is...is there anything else?”

Nix shook his head. “If we need anything else, or want to let either of you know about anything, we’ll contact you.” He pulled a pad of paper out of a drawer, then took a pen from a cup on his desk and wrote down something. “This is my number, feel free to add it to your contacts.” He tore the paper out of the pad, then tore it in half and handed each piece to either of them.

“Well, I mean, I can always look for the number that calls me five hundred times in a row,” Chase muttered, thinking it was too low for Nix to pick up.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that many times,” Nix said, smiling a bit.

Chase jumped, then hurriedly stood up. “Well, uh. We’ll be seeing you.”

Laurens stood as well. “Thanks for your help,” she said, looking at Nix and not Hooper.

“You’re welcome,” Nix said. As the two of them started to leave, he called, “And don’t hesitate to ring me if you remember anything that could help!”

Laurens and Chase were silent as they walked out, up until they left the station all together, the double doors swinging behind them. Then Laurens spoke up. “Hey, uh...would you mind if...you drove me home? I took the bus here.”

“Didn’t that Nix guy say you should be in the hospital?” Chase asked.

“I—well, uh...” Laurens stammered. “I...really don’t think—”

“I know you’re like, a mind doctor and not a body doct—that came out wrong, I mean, a medical doctor.” Chase laughed nervously. “But shouldn’t you know all about how you should stay in the hospital after undergoing something, uh...major?”

Laurens slumped. “You’re right...” she sighed. “I guess I could be missing something that the doctors aren’t. I, uh...would you mind if you drove me to the hospital?”

“Sure, which one?” Chase asked, starting to pull out his keys.

“Mariposa. You know that one?”

“Yeah, no problem. It’s on my way home, anyway.”

The two of them climbed on the car. Chase pulled out of the parking lot, and once they were on the way, he asked, “So...what’s next for you? After...everything?”

“Well, I, uh...” Laurens winced a bit. “I know what I should do, but I want to go back to Silver Hills as soon as possible. Now that I...understand, more, what Schneep’s going through, I think I can help him better.”

“Huh. That’s...wow, that’s really nice of you.” Chase paused, then asked, “But, uh, should you really be going back to work after all this? I mean, it’s gotta be...pretty upsetting.”

Laurens looked out the window silently for a while. “Yeah, I know what I should do is take a while to readjust to everything. But I...I can’t just leave someone like that. A-and maybe I can start taking on other patients, too—”

“Uh, maybe slow down a bit, there,” Chase suggested tentatively. He fell silent for a moment, keeping his eyes on the road. “Y’know, I haven’t tried it in a while, and you probably know all about it, being a psychologist—”

“Psychiatrist. It’s different, I can prescribe medicine.”

“—but I hear, uh, therapy would be really good after something like this.”

Laurens shifted awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. But that would be a little...weird, considering I know a lot of the therapists in the city, since they were my colleagues for a bit.”

“For a bit?”

“Yeah, I worked at Silver Hills for a while, then quit to become a private therapist, then came back to Silver just before Schneep arrived.” Laurens paused. “Besides, like I said, I should probably...readjust to things for a while. And I really do want to check in on Schneep, because...” She glanced back at Chase. “Well, I can’t imagine things have been great for him recently. Dr. Newson probably took over after I...was gone, and...she hates him.”

“Yeah, me and the others figured that out,” Chase frowned. “There’s got to be something we can do about that.”

Laurens nodded. “We can come up with something, I’m sure.”

The two of them were quiet the rest of the way to the hospital.

——————

Neither of them had any way of knowing that, later that day, Marvin was working on the next step of his plan to “do something about” Newson.

Luckily, he’d planned this bit out a bit more than the “break into a mental hospital” bit, doing some research and looking up an address for a place he thought could help him. He took the bus there shortly after lunch, carrying his supplies in his bag. Before he walked in, he took a moment to brace himself. His last experience with a place like this hadn’t...ended well. But he was determined to go through with this. So he straightened his posture, and walked inside.

A small, electric bell sounded out the opening of the door. Marvin immediately walked up to what looked like a reception area, with a desk hidden behind a window. Once the clerk behind the window looked up, he said, “Hi, I need to see a civil lawyer.”

The clerk nodded. “One moment, please.” She typed something out on her computer. “Are you the defending party or the prosecuting party?”

“Uh. Prosecuting, I believe.” That was the party that sued people, right?

“Name?” After Marvin gave her his name, the clerk finished typing out whatever she was doing. “Wait here please.” She pointed to the hard, uncomfortable-looking chairs along the edge of the room. Marvin sighed quietly, and went to sit down, taking out his phone to wait.

After a few minutes, there was a voice. “Mr. Maher?”

Marvin looked up to see a woman in a pantsuit standing in front of him. “I’m Aja Bakshi,” she said, holding out a hand. “I understand you have a civil case you need help with?”

Marvin stood up, not taking her hand. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, uh...it’s a little bit complicated, maybe we should go somewhere we can talk for a while?”

Bakshi nodded, not looking too perturbed about the declined handshake. “Of course. We can talk in my office, follow me.”

The two of them had to go up two flights of stairs to reach Bakshi’s office, but once there, Marvin found it comfortable enough. There were a lot of knickknacks on various surfaces and photos on the desk, not to mention the office was big enough to include a small sitting area instead of just a single chair for guests. Marvin immediately sat down in one of the comfier-looking chairs, while Bakshi sat at her desk nearby. “Okay, so, this is a long story,” Marvin started, digging into his bag. “But basically, my friend’s in an institution and the doctor assigned to him hates him, and she actively tries to make things worse. I’d like to sue her for malpractice.”

Bakshi pursed her lips, considering this. “Do you have any relation to this man, or are you just friends?”

“Well, we’re just friends, though a lot of people do think we’re related. ‘Cause we look alike.” Marvin took out a folded piece of paper, unfolding it and setting it down on the desk. “But I took a whole bunch of notes about things that were weird and really suspicious about her.” He also took out a small folder, and set it down as well. “Also I got a copy of the medication she put him on. I did some research, and I’m ninety percent sure that this isn’t going to work for him.”

“How’d you get that?” Bakshi asked, surprised. “Those shouldn’t be accessible to people without permission, according to county laws.”

“Well...” On one hand, Marvin was delighted that Bakshi seemed to have the appropriate knowledge for this particular case. On the other, this part was about to be really awkward. “I may have...taken them.”

Bakshi stared at him, then raised an eyebrow. “What.”

“Look, I’m willing to take whatever punishment I get for doing that,” Marvin said plainly. “But I know we needed this information.” In truth, if he was going to get arrested for something, this was probably the best thing to get arrested for, given all the other things he’d done.

Bakshi considered this, folding her arms. “If this is brought up in the case, we could argue you had justifiable reason for it,” she said after a while. “Provided you had suspicions before you took the medication records.”

“Oh believe me, I did.” Marvin nodded. “I dated my notes on the paper. And this...” He pulled out another piece of paper. “Are my suspicions after getting into the place and seeing what was up.”

“Okay, that’s trespassing. We’ll also have to argue justifiable reason for that.” Bakshi picked up the folder to look at the records inside. Marvin watched in silence as she read over them, then began typing stuff into her computer. This took a while, so Marvin reached inside his bag one more time and grabbed a keychain with a couple different attachments, selecting one that imitated bubble wrap and popping it while he waited. After a while, Bakshi leaned back in her seat and whistled. “The main problem in these records is that the escalation is too quick. And there’s no need for the sedative dose to be that high, especially if your friend doesn’t have a history that requires it.”

Marvin laughed nervously. “Well, I mean...apparently there was this whole big case, I was in Ireland at the time so I had no idea about it, but when I came back it turns out...a-anyway, my friend is Henrik von Schneeplestein, apparently that’s a known name in town now.”

“Oh fuck.” Bakshi hissed. “That does complicate things. But still, I would say this is unreasonable, even with that in mind, and I’m sure many others would agree.” She looked over the records again. “Do you have anything else planned for today? Because putting together this case could take a while.”

“Yeah, I know.” Luckily, Marvin had planned for this. “I don’t have anything else to do until dinnertime.”

At that very moment, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Frowning, he took it out to look at the caller ID. Chase? “Um...excuse me for a moment,” he said, then answered the call. “Hey, what’s up? I’m kind of in the middle of a thing here.” He paused, listening to Chase talk on the other line. Then his eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”

The phone call lasted roughly five minutes, during which Bakshi was content to wait and start going through the paperwork of putting a case together. Marvin mostly listened, occasionally jumping in with a “Really?” or a “Holy shit.” Eventually, Marvin glanced back over at Bakshi and realized this might be a little rude. “Chase, this is great, wonderful, but I’m really busy right now. I have to go.” A pause. “Yeah, I’ll text you later. Yeah. Okay, bye.” He hung up, and looked over at Bakshi again. “Sooo turns out Sch—my friend, uh. Might actually be innocent, in some way.”

Bakshi blinked, at a loss for words with the rapid change of events. “That... changes things,” she said after a while.

“Yeah, my friend just told me they just found out a huge thing,” Marvin nodded. “So, uh. Guess we need to adjust for that?”

“Possibly,” Bakshi agreed. “It’s a good thing we haven’t gotten far.” She leaned forward. “Shall we start, then?”

“Might as well.” Marvin nodded. Hopefully by doing this, they could get Newson away from Schneep, and maybe away from Silver Hills altogether.

——————

This was...new.

He wasn’t sure if “new” was a good thing.

In truth, he felt a little...foggy. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation, which sucked, but it was one he hadn’t felt in a while. And it meant that it took him a moment to realize he actually did recognize this new place, if only vaguely.

When Jackie opened his eyes, he noticed he was lying on a sofa, underneath a blanket. Not too alarming, in and of itself. What was more alarming was that he couldn’t move. Once that thought had managed to work its way through the soup in his head, panic slowly started to set in. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he do anything more than breathing and blinking?

He was stuck lying on his side, staring at the opposite wall. There was a flatscreen TV mounted on it, a small table under it with two game consoles. The wall was papered with a pattern of pale green and yellow stripes, spots of it showing sign of water damage. Seeing that, he remembered he’d been here before.

And then he heard someone talking. It sounded like it probably came from another room, but the person was loud enough, and the walls thin enough, that Jackie could make out the voice almost perfectly.

“I don’t care, and if you think I do, you’re making a big mistake,” the voice snapped. The man speaking had a trace of an Irish accent. He paused for a moment. “I don’t fucking know, find it out!” Another pause. “Yeah, go check, go do that. But don’t you dare hang up.”

Jackie shivered a bit, and was immediately annoyed that he could do that, but not move his head at all. Of course, the annoyance was overwhelmed by the sudden, intense jolt of fear he’d felt hearing that voice. Of course Anti would be here, why wouldn’t he be? It was his apartment. Or at least, that’s what Jackie assumed.

He’d been here once before, though he couldn’t remember most of it. It was back in May. He hadn’t seen Schneep in a while, and that worried him. It always did. The fear that one day Anti would get tired of one or both of them was an ever-present weight. It didn’t help that Anti would take Schneep away seemingly at random, for as long as a day to two weeks. Always, always, Jackie wondered if something would happen. Then Anti would bring Schneep back. Always, always in worse condition than when he’d left. Not physical condition, usually. But Jackie had picked up early on that Anti liked to mess with both of them. He could handle it most of the time, but Anti was a lot harder on Schneep, which would only worsen his condition. Jackie remembered nights where neither of them went to sleep, because Schneep couldn’t remember where he was or who was with him, and Jackie would quietly, calmly, explain it to him every time, even when Schneep would lash out.

That was the routine for six months, and then one day, Anti had taken Schneep out, and returned without him. Jackie remembered the absolute terror, remembered thinking, “this is it, I’m done for.” Then Anti had knocked him out, and when Jackie woke up, he was in this same apartment. Once again, he didn’t recall much of it, but he picked up that Schneep had somehow slipped away on one of Anti’s “errands” that he sometimes took him on. Apparently the police had been close, and Anti had panicked and left Schneep there. And now, it seemed, the situation was similar. Anti took Rya Laurens, and she’d gotten away. So Anti had packed everything up and fled to this place.

“What do you mean?!”

Jackie would’ve flinched if he’d been able to. Apparently Anti’s conversation on the phone wasn’t going so well.

“No, you have to have some somewhere, that’s your whole thing! That’s what you do! Do you not have extra stock, you son of a badger’s ass?! I’d think you would be smart enough to keep that on hand, guess I was wrong!” A pause. “Well of course I did, but the coppers found the house, so everything in there’s gone, including all of that!” Small pause. “Well it’s a good thing you don’t mark the packaging, then, isn’t it? Look, what do you have?”

Anti’s voice fell silent again for a long while. Then, Jackie heard a door open somewhere nearby. He tried to turn to look in its direction, but was still unable to. A light overhead flicked on, lighting up the room previously illuminated only by sunlight that was probably coming from a window somewhere.

“Yeah, that’s all great for you, but not for me,” Anti said. His voice was a lot clearer now. Jackie pictured him hovering in a doorway leading to the room. “I have a fucking PI in my apartment and I need to do something about that!”

Fuck. Jackie realized Anti was talking about him.

“No, really?” Anti drawled sarcastically. “I hadn’t thought of that! Wow, you’re such a genius, Natalie, and here I was collecting knives ‘cause they looked cool.” Small pause. “I’ll call you whatever I like, it’s your fault for putting your real name out there.” Another pause. “The point is, if that was an option, I would’ve done that already!” Pause. “That’s not your fucking business.” Long pause. “Alright fine, I’ll check in then, but if you don’t have any by then I swear to god I’ll—” He cut himself off, presumably because the other person started talking again. “Of course I will. I’ll call you in a week, goodbye.”

The apartment fell silent. Jackie’s eyes strained to see anything beyond the small spot he was facing, to no avail. Soon, he heard footsteps. Heading away. But the room light didn’t turn off, so he’d probably be back.

The footsteps continued in the other room. Something squeaked, like rusty hinges. Then it slammed shut. Jackie felt his heart leap into his throat. The squeaking-slamming repeated. There was a long pause in the footsteps before there were more. Then a few beeping sounds, followed by a humming, and Jackie relaxed a bit as he realized it was a microwave.

Of course, that ended within two minutes, and soon the footsteps started again. Now heading towards him. And at that moment, Jackie was almost glad he couldn’t move, because he was sure that if he could, he would’ve done something stupid like jump up and run.

The footsteps went around the sofa, and somewhere out of his sight Jackie heard the sound of something being set down on a wooden table. A moment of silence. And then Anti appeared.

For a moment, the resemblance to the rest of his friends threw Jackie off. But that only lasted a moment, as the right half of Anti’s face was covered in scars. Some straight, some jagged, some rather like burns. All were fairly faded, but still very noticeable. There was one across Anti’s throat, too, that looked a bit different than the others, possibly having happened at a different time. Anti’s left eye was natural blue, but his right was unnaturally bright green. Besides all this, Anti wore a dark green jacket and a tarnished silver watch on a rusted chain around his neck. He seemed to always have those two things close by, if not actually on him.

“So.” Anti leaned over, staring at Jackie, noticing the way his eyes would lock on him, then dart away before coming back. “Guess I’ll be stuck with you for a bit longer.”

Jackie’s heart sped up further. What did that mean?

Anti frowned. He reached forward, grabbing Jackie’s head with both hands. “How long will this last...?” he muttered, prying open one of Jackie’s eyelids with his fingers. After a while, he let go, letting Jackie’s head fall back. Without another word, he walked out of Jackie’s field of view. Jackie heard a faint sound like someone was hitting a pillow, then the sound of silverware scraping along ceramic. Apparently Anti had decided to sit down nearby and eat, maybe while he waited for whatever was paralyzing Jackie to wear off.

Jackie then realized he was breathing a bit quickly, and he fought to get it under control. Okay. So. He was stuck in a (probably small) apartment with a man who’d killed at least thirteen people, directly and indirectly. He had no idea what said man was planning for him, but he knew it probably wasn’t good.

But for a positive, at least Rya had gotten away. And alerted the police, by the sound of Anti’s phone conversation. That was good. Now people knew the real situation going on here, and so it was more likely that someone would figure out where he was and come get him.

A small part of Jackie’s mind pointed out that “more likely” didn’t mean it was likely to happen at all, but he quickly squashed that. This was significantly more hope than he’d had in a while, and he wanted to hold onto it.

Something had to happen. It had to. Jackie wasn’t sure he could bear the alternative.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #pwtimeline #brigid writes fanfiction

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sdpafanblogofsupremefunk · 4 years

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Season 1, Episode 1: A Different Place

Where better to begin talking about a show than the beginning? Like most shows, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo has a pilot episode.

...Okay, in this case, “pilot episode” is just a fancy way of saying “first episode”. Much like Rick & Morty and DT17, SDPA doesn’t really have a pilot episode that isn’t just the first episode (unless you count Doc and Mharti as R&M’s pilot, which I’d rather not), so to begin the series, we kinda have to jump right into the mess of things.

It’s like A Quiet Place, but not stupid.

As the episode begins, we are introduced to a two men on a horse-drawn cart. The man in the red box is a book salesman who’s a little down on his luck in terms of profits.

A little.

This guy isn’t really given a name, and I don’t want to call him “The Salesman” the whole time because that’s stupid. So I’m going to give him a name. Mr. Simmons will do nicely.

Anyways, Mr. Simmons falls out of the cart when it hits a patch in the road, and when he picks himself up, he sees a quaint little house on a farm, with an old woman knitting on the porch.

Here, we are introduced to the first of our main cast, Dona Benta, a kind elderly lady who owns this little patch of heaven known as the Yellow Woodpecker Farm. Yeah, didn’t take us long to get there, huh?

So Mr. Simmons sees this old woman in the middle of (what he believes to be) nowhere, and decides it’s the perfect opportunity to make a quick buck believing that:

Which, I dunno, man, she seems pretty comfortable just sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. Like, even as an outsider who doesn’t know a lick of what goes on in this farm, I’d say she’s content as she is, but anything to make some cold hard cash, I guess.

Also, I would not ever call this place a desert, even for the sake of exaggeration. There’s grass everywhere, bushes, trees, flowers, the works. If this where anything like a desert, I do not think this woman would be here, to put it simply. But, I digress. And I hydraulic press, but we won’t be seeing that.

So, Mrs. Benta goes inside to call for the kids, and here we meet 3 of our other actors:

Here, we see Pedrinho (or Little Pete, the boy in the blue overalls) and Narizinho (or Lúcia “Little Nose”, the girl in the red dress), cousins and Mrs. Benta’s grandchildren. They’re playing tag, I think, but they’re stopped in their tracks with their Grandma in the way, and-

Hang on, I feel like we’re forgetting something.

Oh, right. I almost forgot Emilia. She’s basically the reason I watch this show, no biggie.

Anyway, she’s in a race with the kids, when they’re blocked by Grandma. Emilia makes the smart move and cuts right under Mrs. Benta. It looks like this:

Another reason I like this show so much, it’s rife with smears, which I feel like any good cartoon should have. Like here, where Emilia friggin’ nyooms right under Mrs. Benta like a comet.

Emilia reaches the finish line at the bookshelf, where we see the Viscount of Sabugosa, a puppet made out of an ear of corn who’s very smart and polite. (His name is a pun, “sabugo” means corncob in Portuguese, and it’s a parody of the Count of Sabugosa, of which there were 9, the first being Vasco Fernandes César de Meneses in 1729- but everybody calls him Viscount and so will I because blah)

In this show, the Viscount is the actual size of an ear of corn, which makes sense, he is, after all, a puppet made out of one. I think it’s really funny that the cartoon is slightly more realistic than the live-action show it’s based on in this regard, because in the 2001 series, for whatever reason, the Viscount towers over everyone:

And he has a sick mustache.

Like, I don’t get it, out of all the characters, you made the guy made out of corn the tallest one in the cast? I get that the technology to make him actually small probably wasn’t all there yet, Grandpa in My Pocket was still 8 years off, but you really couldn’t find a guy that wasn’t the same height as Shaq?

Yeesh, only 2 minutes in and I’m getting sidetracked this often. Well, I guess it’s better than having nothing to talk about.

Anyway, Emilia wins the race, but the other two kids run into her, smooshing her against the bookshelf-

-and pwning her so hard she briefly grows fingers on her hand (and turning it into a left hand apparently, because the thumb is on the wrong side)

Mrs. Benta explains that Emilia and the other mystical beings must hide from the impending salesman.

Oh brother, I was wondering when we’d get to this guy. This is Marquis of Rabicó (Portuguese for Short-tail). Literally the first thing you read about him on the show’s Wikipedia is that he’s fat (which you think would be a given cuz he’s a pig), and his part of the Characters section isn’t much better, stating that he’s a “gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig” and most of his episodes involve him getting himself and/or others into trouble by being a gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig. He’s only ever onscreen to cause problems, either directly or by proxy. If I were to sum him up in one meme, it would be this:

Now, I don’t hate Rabicó, I’m actually quite indifferent towards him, but he does bring down a lot of the episodes that he’s a major part of. Thankfully, there aren’t too many episodes featuring him in the first 2 seasons, but from what I hear, Season 3 goes ham with that shit (pun intended) and it brings down the quality of the season as a whole, so it’s a good thing that’s as far off from now as it is. I want to enjoy the lack-of-pig while it lasts.

But hey, at least he doesn’t look like this:

Don’t do drugs, kids.

Rant over, Mrs. Benta explains that she wants things to look normal because the Yellow Woodpecker Farm is a very peculiar place, where all kinds of weird and wacky stuff goes on, and if word gets out about it, the place will be filled with tourists wanting to get a peek of the action.

Something that Mrs. Benta probably didn’t consider is that there’s a bigger threat to being exposed than just filthy tourism. That’s right, I’m talking about the GOVERNMENT.

I mean, think about it. How many movies have you seen where the government tries to hunt down an unnatural being? E.T., the Sonic Movie, a third one I can’t think of right now, etc. (Lilo & Stitch does not count) Now, I can’t speak for Brazil’s government compared to the U.S., but I know there’s gotta be a division dedicated to dealing with unnatural things that would no doubt arrest Emilia, Rabicó, Viscount, etc. and run experiments on them. Then again, maybe this cartoon takes place in a world where the government doesn’t even exist. I mean, we never really see any urban settings in the show (aside from a brief mention of “the city” in the finale), so for all I know, the world of Sítio do Picapau Amarelo is run by Vermin Supreme.

Real talk, you should all be ashamed of yourselves for not voting for this guy back in 2016.

Initially, Emilia won’t go into her box, but then she gives in and is dragged there by Aunt Nastácia, the housemaid of the farm with a knack for making dolls (so she’s essentially Emilia’s mom). She doesn’t really do much in this episode, but the Fat Bastard does even less, and I still mentioned him.

So Mrs. Benta lets Mr. Simmons into the house and he does this whole spiel about how great the books are, how they can take you to worlds you never imagined, fantasy and action, yadda yadda.

Meanwhile, the kids are off to the side and they’re all like “Well, we met the actual Hercules, get on our level scrub”. And of course, Emilia is watching with them, instead of in her box.

As Simmons keeps on rambling, Emilia is being a little peeping tom, not realizing that one turned head could lead to her being dissected like a high school frog.

Apparently, Emilia thinks she’s a regular Bart Simpson, with shit like spitballs and pulling out the man’s leg hairs. She’s really pushing her luck here, and for little reason. Sure, Simmons called the place boring, but that’s how it’s supposed to be to him.

Of course, Pedrinho and Narizinho are nice enough kids that they bail her out on this one and pretend it was them.

And before Simmons can ask what the hell is going on, Mrs. Benta gives him the money for the books and sends him out the door. And once he’s out...

I’ll give you a hint: it rhymes with go.

Of course, they’re not out of the woods yet, cuz Simmons is getting a little suspicious.

Busted. The truth is revealed, all laid out for Simmons to see. A talking rag-doll? Inconceivable! And yet, there it is.

Come on, Viscount. I would expect you of all people to uphold what Mrs. Benta said and stay hidden. You’re smart enough, you should already know what’s at stake, or at least that something is at stake. I mean, I understand that the cat is already out of the bag, but you’re not helping.

Also, you’re thumb is clipping into your bowtie, you should get that checked out.

Rabicó, I hope you get turned into salami. Not out of spite or anything, but just because I like salami.

Naturally, Simmons believes he’s struck gold and found the ultimate tourist trap. But when Emilia points out that if he tells anyone, he’ll sound like a crazy person-

-he straight up Villager Neutral B’s her,

hails a horse, and books it.

Wow, Viscount. Dick move mangling Mrs. Benta’s glasses like that. And all for an impromptu magnifying glass, which is pointless-

-because we can see the horse tracks perfectly fine without them.

(The Viscount isn’t this much of a jerk in the rest of the series, I swear.)

So, the gang follow the tracks until there are no more, which leads them to a corn store.

Wait, a... corn store? As in, a store that mainly, if not exclusively, sells maize and maize accessories? Compared to vegetables in general, that’s quite a niche market, I can’t possibly imagine finding a success in building an entire business around one type of vegetable. Corn is simply not as versatile as something like chocolate or cheese.

Oh no, wait, it’s just a bar. I guess this cartoon takes place in the middle of Prohibition 2: Return of Jafar, and the whole “corn store” thing is just a set up for a speakeasy. (I mean, you could also argue that it’s a diner, but I’mma go with bar because it’s funnier.)

And I’m guessing Simmons expects the place to put all of the meals on his tab, considering he’s going to get the money later with all the tourism. But then, why doesn’t he just pay with the money he got from selling Mrs. Benta those books? So he pulls Emilia out of his bag to show everyone that he has a talking doll and...

Hm. Probably should have put some air holes in that bag.

Anyway, the gang comes in, and Mrs. Benta asks for the doll back, with Narizinho hamming up her Oscar-worthy performance:

So everybody’s giving Mr. Simmons a mean glare:

Including this gentleman who looks like someone just insulted his favorite MHA character (it’s probably Tsuyu):

So Mr. Simmons desperately tries to convince everyone that the doll indeed does talk, and that she comes from a wacky place, but Aunt Nastácia intervenes and says that it’s just a normal doll.

She just straight up roasts Emilia, who (big surprise) does not take it very well. To the point that she is very visibly angry, which you think the barflies would notice.

I mean, look at that and tell me that you wouldn’t notice anything weird.

But anyways, they get the doll back and we get this cute group hug.

D’awww.

So they leave with Emilia-

as Mr. Simmons is beaten to death offscreen for stealing from a little girl.

As the gang walks home, Viscount bends Ms. Benta’s glasses back to normal. Took you long enough, ya jerk.

Not even close, my dear. This is only the beginning.

Well, that was a very good first episode. It introduces the world and many of the main characters very well. And while there were a few issues I had with it, they’re really just nitpicks that don’t detract from the episode as a whole. Overall, a good effort, 8/10.

So, yeah, that’s the first episode down. Join me next time when we watch episode 2, and meet a very vile villain.

Very vile indeed.

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txladyj-blog · 5 years

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This Time Around - Chapter 18

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx by request of @txladyj-blog

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

Carl was reading Judith’s new favorite book to her. The one Jess had given her and she'd become obsessed with. No other books were good enough. The night had crept in before he’d even noticed, the sky turning from orange to a deep black in the blink of an eye. The stars were out that night and he began to count them one by one as he bounced Judith on his lap. That was, until she began to fuss and pulled the book towards her on the table. She was getting good at communicating her needs, her main one being reading with her brother or Uncle Daryl.

From their position on the front porch, the front gate could be seen to the right, small lights lined the walls and illuminated the area for the gate guards and the sentries that patrolled the perimeter. Not only could he see the gate from where he sat, he could also see between the two houses opposite. The metal girder that held up that section of the wall and the holes in it that Enid used to fashion a ladder with metal pipes in order to scale the wall. He always kept a close eye on the gap between the houses, frequently following Enid over the wall despite Jess’s warnings. He knew she watched over her, but when she was sent on a run there was no one else to do so, meaning Carl took it upon himself to ensure her safety while keeping enough distance to avoid being detected. It was risky and dangerous, he knew that much, but he wasn’t about to let the girl he liked linger outside the safety of Alexandria all alone.

He was almost finished with the storybook when the gate squeaked open, it’s mechanical noise rattling through the street. Daryl struck a solitary figure when he walked through the gate and nodded to the guard, who heaved it shut behind him. He carried his crossbow over his shoulder and appeared pensive as he crossed the space between the street and the house.

“Hi Daryl” Carl greeted. He closed the book on the table and shifted Judith on his lap. Deciding she wasn’t quite done with the story, she reached out and opened the book again, scrunching up the pages with her little hand as she turned them.

“Carl.” Daryl nodded. Reaching the top of the steps to the porch. Leaning down to Judith, he ruffled her hair and tickled her fingers with his own. “Hey, Lil’ asskicker” he uttered to his adoptive niece. He pulled out a chair, dropped his crossbow beside it on the floor and sat down to a heavy sigh emanating from his lungs. Conversation was not on his list of priorities; his eyes were stinging and his head was busy. The day’s events coupled with his last conversation with Jess in the woods made everything seem muddled.

“Dad said you guys had a rough run today.” Carl mentioned.

“No more than usual I spose.” Daryl replied.

“Jess okay?”

Daryl looked up at the teenage boy, fresh faced and so young yet he had seen so much in his few years on the planet. He remembered that Jess and Carl got along well at the quarry but wasn’t aware that they were close anymore.

“Yeah, just walked her halfway home, she’s fine.” He answered. “Why?”

The ripping of paper and a happy giggle from the small child on Carl’s lap momentarily caught his attention.

“She’s my friend” He said simply while moving the book out of Judith’s destructive hands.

Daryl wasn’t surprised, it was easy to be friends with Jess as long as she allowed it. She was genuine and he could talk to her like he couldn’t talk to anyone else. Carl obviously thought the same.

“Yeah, me too.” He echoed thoughtfully.

“Daryl…” Carl started “…How do you fight for someone when they’re with somebody else?”

Confusion swept over Daryl’s face and he was baffled as to why Carl would ask him such a thing. Relationship advice was so far removed from Daryl’s talents that he was sure there was absolutely no point in him even answering. He was also inconvenienced and put-out by the question. But Carl’s face was pleading and a part of him was curious.

“You alright, kid?” He checked.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just don’t know what to do.” Carl confessed. His head lowered and he gently combed through Judith’s hair as she leaned against his chest and settled down. Knowing he couldn’t just get up and leave and clearly able to see that something was bothering him, Daryl leaned forwards and braced his elbows on his knees. Rubbing his hands together, he prepared himself for what was a very uncommon occurrence to him. Even when he was a teenager himself advice was not something he ever dared to ask for, nor would he have received any in the first place.

“What’s goin’ on, Carl?”

“There’s a girl I like. Enid…”

Oh, Great. Daryl thought. Not exactly my forte.

He was busy wiping dust and dirt from his hands when Carl spoke, seemingly uninterested on the outside, until Carl continued to explain himself.

“…And I told Jess.” Then, Daryl looked sideways at him.

“Really.” He muttered.

“Yeah. She told me to talk to her. It must have worked because I think we’re friends now. We played video games and I made her laugh and Jess says it’s a good start.” He conveyed.

“I guess it is” Daryl agreed, casting his mind back to the Walker shooting competitions he’d had with Jess and how cute he thought she looked when she laughed bashfully at something he’d said.

“But she has this boyfriend. He hates me. Jess said I should show her that I would be a better boyfriend by being a good friend to her. She said I should do that because friends make better lovers.”

Daryl’s eyebrows shot up and he stared at Carl. This was a revelation in itself; Jess apparently thought that friends made the best lovers. It wasn’t what Daryl was expecting at all and a small part of him dared to allow a flicker of hope in. If she thought him to be a good friend to her, maybe there was a reason for him to entertain the feelings he had developed for her. But he was still unsure of what they were exactly.

“Oh, she said that, huh?” He inquired.

“Yup. But I asked her if that ever really happens, like, if it had ever happened to her.” Carl explained

“And has it?” Daryl questioned, a little too quickly and now leaning further towards him.

“She said no because she’s not the type of girl that guys want to date.”

It was interesting to say the least, Daryl never would have put Jess in such a box and the flutter of anger in his chest took him by surprise. He hated it when she sold herself short or put herself down, he just couldn’t see why she would, or why anyone would.

“Those guys would be idiots.” He mumbled to himself.

“That’s what I thought too. Jess is awesome.” Carl expressed.

Daryl nodded and caught the confused look on Carl’s face. It seemed Jess’s advice had done little other than to baffle him even more.

“I ain’t no expert on this, but maybe Jess is right.” He proposed

“Well, what would you do? Would you tell her?” Carl asked, now desperately digging for some kind of guidance to follow. Daryl wished he’d asked anyone else but him but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have gathered such information about Jess. The question he was faced with was a tough one and one he really did not want to answer when he applied it to his own situation and the potential it presented. He cleared his throat, shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sighed, a soft growl emerging from his throat. He wasn’t getting out of this without giving something up.

“Ahh probably not” He disclosed, taking a glimpse to his side. Carl’s whole attention was fixed on him, as if he were going to give him all the answers. But Daryl did have the answers to his own situation. “Alright, um…I guess I’d just be her friend. Treat her good, do right by her. See what happens”

It was all he could give at that point, his own lack of dating experience and zero knowledge about how women worked would have only served to hinder Carl even more.

“Okay.” Carl agreed “But what would I have to do to make her think I treat her good?”

“Hell, I dunno, Carl. Ask Jess, she’s a girl.” Daryl scoffed.

“Right. Sure. Thanks, Daryl.” Carl accepted, giving up probing for pointers when it occurred to him that Daryl maybe wasn’t as clued up on the subject as he’d thought. He Lifted Judith up and the child flopped like a ragdoll as sleep took her. "Here, she's been asking for you" Carl said as he lowered her into Daryl's lap.

A mandatory meeting had been called for all members of the community and Deanna arranged for everyone that wasn’t out on a run or on guard to be there. She used her front porch as a stage to announce that she would be holding a party for the town. Not only to welcome the newest members to the safe zone, but also to create a sense of togetherness and allow people to enjoy some of the things they may have missed from the way things were before. Jess felt nothing but a rising sense of dread at the idea and when she sneakily caught sight of Daryl through the crowd, she could sense the same apprehension in him too. Driving home her belief in enjoying the little things to boost morale, Deanna expressed that she expected that everyone who could attend, did so. Jess couldn’t bash her leadership and genuine concern for the people under her watch, agreeing with most of what was said. Happiness was important, especially considering how little there was left in the world. But enforced fun wasn’t everyone’s preference and Jess had two days to decide what she was going to do.

When the meeting was dismissed, people filtered out every which way and Jess hung back, peering at the crowd from under her hood when she spotted Eric shuffling along a few feet from her. She wound her way around the people in front and walked along next to him, unaware that behind her, Daryl had rounded the entire crowd and was wandering along behind them.

“Hey Parker. So, what do you think? You’re going, right?” Eric chirped, nudging her in the arm.

“Huh. No.” She scoffed from beneath her mask.

“Parker! It’s a party! None of us have had a party for a very long time. Please, go with Aaron and I” he pleaded

She shook her head quickly, not wanting to have to discuss her reasons why in the middle of so many people.

“Please. I know Aaron will want you to.” Eric urged. Jess stopped and faced him in the sea of people that milled around them.

“I promise…” She started, Eric’s face lit up prematurely “…to think about it, Eric.”

He rolled his eyes and linked his arm through hers, directing her to his house, where he knew Aaron would have something to say about it when he got back from recruiting.

Seeing Jess amble away with her arm in Eric’s, Daryl spotted Rick heading back to the house and sped up to reach him. When Rick noticed his presence, he slowed his pace.

“Are you going?” He wanted to know.

“Nah. Ain’t my thing.” Daryl grunted. It really wasn’t. He’d felt like enough of an outsider at Alexandria as it was, preferring to spend his time outside the walls which so happened to be a blessing because Jess lived out there. The last thing he wanted to do was drop himself into a situation where he would be forced to make small talk with people he barely knew.

“Your thing doesn’t matter anymore. We should go. All of us.” Rick said sternly.

“I ain’t good at parties.” Daryl gruffed as he shoved his hands into his pockets like a moody teenager.

“Daryl, you’re not good in any social situation. But we owe them this. We wouldn’t be living like we are now without Deanna, Aaron… and Jess. You should show your face at least.”

“Keep ya voice down.” He quickly hushed, looking around “She don’t want no one to her real name.”

“I know. Relax. No one can hear me. Hey…” he stopped and placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder “… are you alright?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” Daryl brushed off.

No. I have these damn weird feelings for my best friend and it’s fucking me up.

Usually able to see through any lies like a pane of glass, Rick studied Daryl’s eyes and concluded that there could possibly be something playing on his mind, but if he was forced, he would close up and never tell him. So, he backed off and told himself that Daryl would go to him when he was ready, if there really was anything that wrong.

“OK.” He accepted “Just, go to the party. Please It’ll do you good.”

“I’ll think ‘bout it.” Daryl grumbled before surging past Rick and climbing the steps to the front porch of the house.

Early the next morning, Daryl watched the sun rise from the window ledge in the living room. The birds started singing before anyone but the guards started to mill about the streets. He found himself restless and consumed with too many thoughts to sleep. Every time he lay down and tried to relax, his time in the woods the previous night with Jess replayed in his memory. It was a strange notion to him that he would feel anything more than friendship towards anyone anymore, let alone allow himself to be so open with someone about how much he cared for them.

Movement from outside the window saw him look up and catch sight of Jess leaving the basement armory, pausing to strap a pistol holster to her leg at the top of the stairs. Her backpack was bulky and he remembered that It was the time she usually always went hunting. In order to do so, she never had a reason to visit Alexandria first and she certainly never felt the need to equip herself with a gun due to her proficiency with archery and her habitual use of a machete and knife. He got to his feet and plucked his leather vest from the coat stand by the door. Sliding it over his shoulders, he leaned down to collect his crossbow, checked he had his cigarettes and left the house.

In a deserted house at the end of the street, a mere ten houses away from Alexandria, Jess stood in front of a floor length mirror and clutched a red, skater dress with black, lace trim against her body. On the bed lay her nearly empty backpack and next to it, a pair of high-heeled, black ankle boots. She turned slightly, tilting her head for a different perspective of how the dress might look on her. She’d dug it out of the storage garage, from one of the bags they’d brought back from the Cherokee Club. It was a designer dress but she cared little for such things in the first place, let alone now the world had ended.

Her eyes lowered to the hem of the dress and she knew she needed a second opinion on the length of it. Too short and she would look like a lampshade, too long and she’d appear far too conservative.

This god damn party. She thought.

Then, something in the mirror caused her to grab her machete on her belt. A figure in the doorway. She whirled around and held up the huge blade, finding Daryl hovering in the doorway with his hands up in surrender.

“Easy” he soothed, noticing her increased breathing and panic slowly leaving her body.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She sighed.

“Told the armory you were goin’ huntin’…this ain't huntin’.”

“Are you serious? You’re checking up on me? What are you, my parent now?!” She adopted a mocking tone of voice “don’t go out on runs, Jess. Don’t lie about going hunting, Jess.”

“Just makin’ sure you’re safe” He reasoned.

I’m annoyed at you but my god, you sweetheart.

“Can’t go anywhere without you.” She mumbled as she threw the dress down onto the bed. “Like a damn shadow”

Initially, he figured she was mad at him and thought he should just leave her to it, but then he realized she was only messing with him when she threw him a reluctant smile. He dug around in his pocket and threw a packet of peanuts at her. She caught them, thankful for the offer of a second breakfast and eagerly ripped them open, throwing one after the other in her mouth and giving him a thumbs up in thanks. He stepped into the room and leaned against the wall.

“Talked to Carl last night when I got back.” he mentioned.

She hummed at him with her mouth full. At the time, it was the only way of her acknowledging his statement.

“Told me you’re helpin’ him out with Enid.”

She swallowed and ran her tongue around her teeth.

“Trying to.” She said “I’m hardly the oracle of love and relationships. Far from it actually. Take it he asked your advice too?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Same as you really. That he should be her friend. Treat her good. See what happens.”

“Not bad advice if I say so myself.”

“He wanted to know how to do that. I kinda told him he should ask you.” He shrugged like it was nothing.

“What?! Daryl! Why?” She exclaimed, flopping down onto the bed and blowing the front of her hair up in exasperation

“I dunno, you’re a girl!” He proclaimed. Jess threw her hands up, palms to the ceiling as if she was already completely lost.

“Last time I checked I was but I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. I know more about quantum physics than this stuff.” She fretted. It was true. Jess was by no means an expert on relationships and she had simply been trying to help a teenager experiencing his first episode of what was commonly known as the ‘school boy crush’. She didn’t see it as that serious, although she understood it was to him, and never expected things to get this far. If only she’d told the kid to keep his mouth shut.

“Well, what would you want if it was you?” Daryl tested. It was a risky move and one that could have backfired, but under the guise of helping Carl, Daryl could very well have been about to find out what Jess wanted from a friendship that could blossom into something more. For a few uneasy seconds, all he got back was a downright blank stare.

Help. Someone help me. Jess thought.

“Uh…” She stammered, her hands and arms were suddenly everywhere, tapping her leg, wringing in her lap, playing with the bracers on her wrists. “…I’d want somebody to make me feel like I was important. Like, um… they like being around me and make time for me. I’d want someone I can have fun with and doesn’t care about all my quirks and faults. Someone thoughtful and who’s rooting for me and takes care of me.” She swallowed hard and cursed herself for getting so flustered and not obscuring her burning cheeks with her mask. “If there was a chance of being more than friends, I guess I’d want to know that they find me attractive too.”

She slowly looked up at Daryl. He was looking right at her and hadn’t moved a muscle the whole time she was speaking.

“That’s exactly what you tell him.” Was all he said. To Jess, they weren't just talking about Carl and she wondered if there might be a flicker of the same intent in Daryl.

I did. I just told him. I told you. Now, you know.

Jess just shook her head, becoming slightly irritated that she’d got herself into such a situation. “I don’t have the experience to give advice about this. I’ve never dated or had a relationship. It’s…it’s bullshit” She admitted.

“That ’cause you ain’t the type that guys date?” He shot at her. Her head snapped around and she gawped at him. Carl had told him that too?!

“That’s right” She confirmed through her teeth. “Probably my complete lack of allure.”

He moved further into the room, sitting next to her on the bed with his vision cast down at the floor.

“Most guys are idiots anyways” He said softly and she knew he was trying to make her feel better. If it was anyone else, she would have felt patronized and offended. But there was something in the way Daryl did it that set him apart from everyone else. “But any of ‘em would be lucky to have you.”

It was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard him say. The defensive side in Jess tried to make her believe he was just lying to save her feelings. That it was just a careless, throwaway comment that he didn’t really mean. But Daryl didn’t care for dishonesty just to give someone a confidence boost. He spoke to her in a way that was different to anyone else, he laughed with her, made time for her, made her feel important, was on her side and was fiercely protective of her. He ticked all the boxes and as he sat there beside her with his calloused hands on his knees, he became the first guy she’d ever liked to have said, and meant, something so profound to her. She wasn’t fool enough to believe he meant it as anything more than a friendly nudge to someone he cared about, but a smile crept across her face nevertheless and she watched him look at the floor, no doubt worrying about the reaction he was about to receive.

“Thank you” she whispered to him. He gradually met her gaze, seeing her wide grin. Satisfaction and relief washed over him. She’d taken it well and now she was aware that he thought a lot more of her than she gave herself credit for.

“Y’know…” He started “...I guess I ain't the type of guy that girls date.”

There. It was out. He’d said it. Knowing her lack of history in the same department had given him a shove and urged him to offer up his own, very similar admission. Now her expression changed to one of puzzlement. He wasn’t getting out of this one without explaining himself.

“W-what?” She croaked, her eyebrows knitted together and her lips parted. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

“No”

“Why?!” She asked thoughtlessly, totally shocked and quickly realizing that if she didn’t tone it down, she could offend him. “I’m sorry. I mean…you’re…uh…” The hole she was digging for herself was growing rapidly by the second and all she could do to stop herself was to gesture to him with her hands, drawing two lines in the air from top to bottom. “…you.”

“What does that mean?” He smirked

“Just that you must have had interest.”

Nice. Good save, Jess. She thought.

“Not really”

“C’mon, that’s a flat out lie. You must have.”

On the inside, Daryl was fighting an internal war over whether he should just tell her the entire truth or just some of it. Her lack of judgement on the subject and his trust in her meant he had very little worry about being ridiculed or thought of as strange and if he couldn’t tell the closest person to him about such things, then what was the point in having her as a friend at all?

“OK, yeah. But mainly just strippers and barflies. Was never interested in that shit. There was a girl at high school too. And uh, and you don’t really wanna know all this.” He dismissed, suddenly hating the sound of his own voice.

“I do” She insisted. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me but I am curious”

Curious. She was curious about him and his past. No one had ever shown such interest in him before and the act of sharing such information felt totally alien and strange. But he loved the look of wonder and fascination in her eyes and he didn’t want it to stop.

“K. Um, was like she just came outta nowhere. Never seen her before. Started talkin’ to me in the hall one day. I was a loner, nobody ever talked to me. So, I thought she was pretty weird at first. Then, she started sittin’ with me at lunch n’ we started hangin’ out outside school.”

Jess was enthralled, her body now facing him with her leg bent under her on the bed. Her mouth was partially open, as if she’d forgotten to keep control over her facial expression because the story she was hearing was much more worthy of her attention. Mimicking her relaxed body language on the bed of the deserted house, with clothes littered on the floor and bloodstains on the walls, Daryl leaned back on one elbow and picked at a hole in the pink quilt cover as he spoke. Jess couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Everything had gone from extremely awkward, to totally relaxed and she wanted to sit there all day with him, she wondered if he would agree if she asked.

“We used to go to the liquor store, steal some booze n’ go get drunk in the park. I didn’t have no friends or nothin’, just Merle. So, it was good to have her around. Then she um, she kissed me n’ it just…fucked everythin’ up.”

She startled as if the last sentence had slapped her across the face. She blinked and made a rolling motion with her hands, urging him to finish the story.

“You can’t just leave it there! Why?” She demanded. “Did you not like her like that?”

“I did” He nodded “Yeah, I did. I just didn’t know what the hell I was s’posed to do ‘bout it. Had no one to go to. Not like I was gonna ask Merle. Naw, this girl, she deserved better than me. So, I backed off n’ she got all upset n’ shit. After that, I tried to talk to her at school, but she just looked straight through me, like I wasn’t even there. Never spoke to her again. Never liked nobody since.”

There was a loud sigh from Jess, like she’d just finished watching the emotional end of a soap opera. She gave him a sympathetic smile and he dipped his head, huffing quietly and attempting to stop himself from feeling exposed and embarrassed about his most honest and revealing of stories. Jess wanted to tell him how gorgeous he was when he was shy, but she kept it to herself and the two of them remained in an uneasy quiet for a few moments until Jess managed to find something to say.

“I like it when you tell me stories.”

It was like he raised his head in slow motion a disbelieving look in his eye and his eyebrow slightly raised.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah” She responded. “As sad as that one turned out to be.”

“S’pathetic” He scoffed.

“No. No it’s not. What did she look like?”

To Jess’s delight, he scooted back further on the bed and brought his legs up, crossing them loosely in front of him. He was certainly getting comfortable, which she could only assume meant he had no plans to desert the discussion and leave her. However, her question seemed to bother him and she could tell he tried to answer by the breath he drew in and the parting of his lips. But he stopped and she heard the words catch in his throat. She toyed with the idea of telling him it didn’t matter, that she didn’t need to know, but she really did and her delay in speaking meant he eventually got there first.

“You. She looked like you.”

Her mouth dropped into an ‘O’ and she sat back, speechless.

“S’a compliment” He felt the need to add.

“It is!” She blurted out. “It…really is.”

Realizing she still had half a bag of peanuts next to her, she quickly picked them up and placed them on the bed between them, hoping that the gesture would distract him from her obvious shock. He simply glanced down at them before returning his focus to her face, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smug smile.

For some reason unbeknownst to her, Jess hazarded a flirtatious gesture that she executed without giving it a second thought. Maybe it was the confidence that him disclosing something so personal to him gave her, maybe it was the compliment that the one girl he liked in his life looked like her, or maybe it was just sheer mindlessness but the lopsided wink she shot at him couldn’t have gone down in a worse way and when she was right in the middle of it, she scolded herself for her sheer impulsivity.

Daryl stared at her before he released a laugh that he just couldn’t hold back anymore. Jess’s face burned with an inferno of regret.

“What was that?” He chuckled.

She covered her face with her hands, rocking back on the bed. Her head hit the dusty pillows and she groaned with the painful image of how it must have looked to him.

“I think I just had a stroke” She muffled through her hands, hearing his gravelly laugh once more.

She lifted her head back up and completely avoided his eyes. When he stopped laughing, he noticed how her face had reddened, much worse than he’d ever seen it before.

“You’re blushin’” He commented.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” She complained sarcastically, flicking her fingers at the bag of peanuts between them. “Eat some fucking peanuts and shut up.”

This is awkward. So, so awkward. Why did I do that? WHY?!

“So, you goin’?” He asked, aiding her with a change in subject

She knew he was referring to Deanna’s party and after her last embarrassing moment she was sure the whole thing was likely to be a disaster if she did attend. But she did promise Eric she would think about it.

“I don’t know. I don’t have anything to wear and I’m not good around that many people.”

“Same.” He agreed, happy that she shared the same anxiety as him.

“You’re not going?” She asked.

“Rick wants me to. Ain’t decided.”

“Eric wants me to go. For Aaron.” She mentioned with a roll of her eyes “I’ve not decided either. Nothing like being guilt tripped into unwanted social interaction.”

“Ain't that the truth.” Daryl muttered before nodding to the discarded dress on the bed “you don’t like it?”

“I like it. It probably won’t like me. I’ll look stupid.”

He wanted to tell her it wouldn’t look anywhere near stupid. That in fact, he wanted to say it would look great on her but he couldn’t gauge the effect his words would have on her after such a deep exchange between them. She snatched the dress and boots and stuffed them into her backpack which lay on the bed.

“Just wear it” He instructed.

She stared at him, trying to read what he really meant with such a short, abrupt sentence. His tone was mixed and hurried and he rubbed at his slightly greying beard, looking away and then back again, obviously uncomfortable.

“What will you wear?” She wanted to know.

“Same thing I always do.”

“So, you are going.”

“I dunno. Maybe I’ll go, if you do.” He proposed.

The light returned back to her face and she giggled, shuffling from the bed and collecting her bag. As much as she would have stayed there with him for hours, she had things to do if she was expected to attend a party wearing a dress for the first time since she was 6 and went to Chuck E. Cheese.

“I’d love to stay here and listen to you tell me another story, but I have things I need to do.” She said reluctantly.

“You got a mirror so ya can practice that wink?” He teased, grabbing the bag of peanuts and stuffing them in his mouth, smiling as he chewed. Jess stilled and glared at him with her mouth open.

“I hate you.” She told him.

He shook his head and chewed noisily. “Naw, you don’t.” He argued with his mouth full.

“Fine” She spat “I hate that I don’t hate you. See you at the party.”

With that, she stormed off, leaving Daryl chuckling quietly to himself. He watched her from the window as she left the house and crossed the street and it dawned on him that they’d been holed up in the bedroom of the house for almost an hour. The time had passed so quickly that it felt more like ten minutes. Time flew when he was with her because he could truly be himself and that was yet another reason why he just could not fathom why no one else had appreciated her like he could. She stopped at the side of the road and equipped her hood and mask and even though her disguise was on, Daryl knew who she really was. He also knew that what he felt for her was teetering dangerously close to something more than a friendship. That was if it hadn't already tipped the balance.

Back at Alexandria, Aaron was back from his recruiting run and was unpacking his truck in front of the house. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume that he had already been informed of the party by Eric and given a run down of how Jess refused to attend and then halfheartedly said she’d think about it.

As soon as Jess stepped through the gate, she spotted him and gripped the handle of her backpack at her shoulder. She pursed her lips, checked her mask was in place and set off in his direction.

“This stupid party” she grumbled with a stamp of her foot.

Aaron, who was dragging a bag out from the passenger seat, spun around with a bright smile on his face.

“You’re going?! Oh, that’s great!” he cried. Jess quickly held up an index finger, silencing him and maintaining control of the situation.

“No. No I didn’t say that.” She corrected sternly.

“OK” He laughed “Then what are you saying?” he flicked his head in the direction of his front porch and she followed after him when he moved towards it and dropped the bag on the steps.

“That I’m thinking about it. I have- I have issues.” She admitted.

“Issues?” he questioned

“What to wear. I’m not good at being a girl. I'm a crappy girl. I-I don’t know how to do the party thing and I have this dress. The last time I wore a dress I was six years old and I ripped it when I was running around Chuck E. Cheese like a maniac. Daryl thinks I should wear it but he’s a redneck biker so I need another opinion.”

Aaron didn’t bother to hide his amusement at her predicament and in a way, he’d almost expected it. He could tell from her usual attire that she wasn’t the princess type but for one night and one night only, he was sure that with the combined efforts of him and Eric, they could transform her and maybe even convince her to leave her mask out of the equation.

“A gay opinion?” he queried.

“Two gay opinions" She requested "Please"

“Absolutely” He beamed. “Come on in.”

--- tagged as requested ---

if you want to be included, let me know.

@lilred254

#daryl dixon #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl x oc #the walking dead fanfiction

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clefaiiiry · 7 years

Text

posting this here now because it was too late to post it yesterday lol

Title: Ties

Fandom: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions

Word Count: 1,530

Characters: Shirona | Cynthia, Jupiter (Pokemon), Mars (Pokemon), Saturn (Pokemon), Akagi | Cyrus (Mentioned), Hikari | Dawn (Mentioned), Charon (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child, Abuse Post Spear Pillar, Trans Male Character, Trans Saturn, I guess it's implied but yeah no he's trans in this

AO3 Version

News of what happened at the Spear Pillar spread like wildfire. The CEO of the region’s biggest energy supplier attempted to summon ancient deities of time and space to destroy the universe, and was just barely stopped by the teenage Champion before both disappeared through a wormhole.

“No,” Cynthia explained for the millionth time, “that is not an exaggeration. That’s really what happened.”

Obviously there was an outcry for those responsible to see justice. But given that the status of the main culprit was currently unknown, there wasn’t much Cynthia could do to calm the growing unrest in the people of Sinnoh.

She should’ve known that an early retirement was too much to hope for.

Interpol had called in everyone who was present at the Spear Pillar for questioning. This included Cynthia herself, but the consensus was that no one had any idea how to even start going about recovering Dawn and Cyrus.

Without enough evidence to pin blame directly onto the Galactic commanders, they were released, but only with the agreement that they would send in reports to Interpol every week.

When Cynthia finally found them, the forth one (Charon was it?) had already made his grand exit. Mars was complaining loudly in the lobby, not caring who heard her.

“It’s not like we need that coward anyway! I say good riddance!”

Jupiter sighed and rubbed her temples. “I’m not gonna act like I’m gonna miss the old coot but you’d think he’d at least drop in his letter of resignation or something.”

“You three look like you’ve had the worst week of your lives,” Cynthia said as she approached. Mars and Jupiter looked up at her simultaneously.

“Oh, it’s totally in the top five,” Mars said, rubbing her face.

Saturn hadn’t said a word since she’d first spotted them, though his eyes followed the conversation with the rapt attention.

Cynthia let out a deep sigh and clasped her hands together.

“C’mon kids, dinners on me,” she said with a grin.

All three commanders stared at her blankly before Jupiter finally spoke, “You’re not even that much older than us.”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Like,” Mars scratched her head. “I dunno, twenty-one?”

Cynthia smirked. “I’m thirty.”

“See? Not that much older,” Jupiter huffed.

“Yeah, you’re not a grandma yet,” Mars piped up.

Seemingly unfazed, Cynthia shrugged and gestured towards the exit. “You guys want food or not?”

“Um...” Mars fussed with the hem of her dress for a moment, unable to make eye contact. “Can I go back to my apartment and get changed first?”

Even the simple act of changing out of their uniforms did wonders for their moods, as if the weight had melted from their shoulders. They could think about the future of Team Galactic and the repercussions of their past actions some other time. Right now, they were just a group of young adults trying to enjoy their evening.

And considering how tacky they looked in their uniforms, Cynthia was thankful that their casual wear wasn’t too harsh on the eyes.

“I would kill for something super gross and bathing in grease,” Mars announced for the whole world to hear.

“Can’t you eat something healthy for once?” Jupiter scolded.

“I’m sorry, did you say, ‘eat something boring?’ No thanks.” Mars stuck her tongue out.

Without much difficulty, Cynthia managed to lead them to a relatively empty diner. They took up a booth in the corner, as far away from the other customers as possible.

Not that it mattered since Mars shouted every word that came out of her mouth. Subtlety was not one of her strong points, Cynthia figured.

“Holy crap!” Mars said through a mouthful of burger. “This is so good! Why haven’t we been here before?!”

Cynthia laughed. “To be fair, this place hasn't been open for too long.”

Mars groaned dramatically. “We totally should’ve had staff lunch here,” she whined.

“You know we never would’ve gotten it approved,” Saturn muttered, poking at his food as if it were some alien creature. Jupiter watched him for a minute before leaning over and muttering something Cynthia didn’t quite catch.

Saturn shook his head in response.

“You’ve gotta eat something.” Jupiter’s voice held nothing but genuine concern.

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled.

“Then you won’t miss these.” Mars leaned across the table and took a handful of fries from his plate.

The speed of which he went to smack her hand could rival a Ninjask. “Back. Off.”

“But if you’re not gonna eat them, why can’t I?”

Saturn thought for a moment, then, while keeping eye contact with Mars, shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. Mars let out a sound that was utterly heart-breaking.

“How could you do this to me?” she cried, though the way she stuffed the other half of her burger into her mouth really ruined the effect.

As Saturn laughed, relief eased its way into Jupiter’s expression.

Cynthia cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how out of place she was. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she started, testing the waters, “what are you plans... name-wise? Are you just gonna keep using your code names or-?”

Tension stiffened Saturn’s frame. “I am not using my old name. Never again.”

Cynthia recoiled as if she’d been hit. “Can I ask-”

“No, you can’t,” Saturn spat.

Mars seemed a tad taken aback by his hostility, but quickly recovered. “Your old name was totally lame anyway. We’ll come up with a better one!”

“Until then,” Jupiter chipped in, placing a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll just keep calling you Saturn.”

“I still think you should call yourself Stanley,” Mars said, the task of holding back giggles being truly monumental.

“I’m not calling myself Stanley.” Saturn huffed and went back to picking at his food.

“Trevor? Goes well with Toxicroak.”

“How does it-” Saturn shook his head. “Does anyone else have any ideas?”

“I like Trevor.” Jupiter grinned.

“Whose side are you on?!”

Despite Jupiter’s protests, Cynthia insisted on paying.

“I’m owed a few favours anyway, don’t worry about it,” the ex-Champion said.

“You’ve already done way more for us than we deserve.”

“It’s not about deserve, it’s about need.” There was an oddly comfortable beat of silence before Cynthia continued, “Besides, I feel like you’ve been through a lot.”

The laugh Jupiter let out held no humour. “That’s an understatement.”

Mars and Saturn walked on ahead, their Pokémon trailing behind them. If Cynthia didn’t know any better, it would’ve been easy to mistake them for a normal pair of friends, teasing and joking as Purugly and Toxicroak chirped along at their feet.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Cynthia said, “do you have any younger siblings?”

A small cloud of breath rose from Jupiter as she frowned. “No. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just- don’t take this the wrong way -you handle those two pretty well.”

“I just worry,” Jupiter said. She brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, letting out a long sigh. “Seems like none of us had a great upbringing, so I just... do what I can.”

With a scoff, Cynthia said, “You’re the mom friend.”

“Please, I’m not that old.” Jupiter smiled, though the action seemed to take far more energy than she could afford. “They’re like my stupid little brother and sister. Annoying, but I gotta keep them in check, you know?” She held out her arms. “Welcome to Team Galactic. We’re a big, weird family but we’re way better than what you’ve got at home.”

Jupiter rubbed her arms, staring down at her feet as she walked.

“For all the shitty things he ended up doing in the end, Ma- Cyrus still did a lot for them.” She gestured to Mars and Saturn, who were still blissfully unaware of the other conversation. “Got them out of some pretty shitty situations. Sure, it was all for his own gain at the end of it, but-” Jupiter shook her head. “Fuck...”

Something about her words caught Cynthia completely off guard. She was suddenly taken back years, back to the summers she spent in Sunnyshore City. How she spent her days bonding over myths and old textbooks with that weird kid everyone told her to avoid. How he would sometimes show up with bruises that he would dismiss. How he would flinch if she yelled too loud. She didn’t find it hard to believe that the same kid would go on to help others out of similar situations.

Cynthia smiled. It was small, but warm and real. “For what it’s worth, I think he cared in his own way.”

“How would you know-”

“You guys have a company nap room,” Cynthia said with a complete deadpan, “If you still think he didn’t care about you at all, then you have vastly underestimated him.”

Jupiter didn’t respond, but the look on her face told Cynthia all she needed to know.

“It’s Julia, by the way.”

“What?”

“My real name.” Jupiter smiled. “Feels weird using it after all this time.”

“Julia.” Cynthia tested the name on her tongue. “Suits you.”

Julia glanced away, the tips of her ears turning slightly red. “Yeah, I guess so...”

#pokemon dppt #fanfiction #team galactic #champion cynthia #mars (pokemon)#jupiter (pokemon)#saturn (pokemon)#my writing #pokemon

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franeridart · 7 years

Note

Can we also talk about how Bakugou went from "weird haired guy" to "Kirishima. Change of plans". Oh man I didn't realize how much I missed the anime *cries*

BOI CAN’T WE I just spent the whole morning crying over seeing the moment Bakugou recognizes Kirishima as an equal animated nbd at all r i p me - I think this might be the first time Bakugou calls anyone by their name, actually, and I just!!! that’s because Bakugou heard Kirishima’s words and recognized him as a good partner and a worthy hero and someone whom he could respect and I’m gonna be grateful for chapter 133 for the insight on this for the rest of my always I !!!!!! have feelings g a h

Anon said:ok ok ok ok but but listen what about BAKGOU AND OCHAKO they are the most popular couple and the most cutest , i think you should try to draw them once i would love love to see this !!! of course just if you want hehe thanx

Ahhh sorry anon but I really don’t ship that - I mean, it’s true that I ship Bakugou with a bunch of people aside from my main two, but if they’re part of Deku’s group you can fairly assume they’re not between my Bakugou ships? And I only romantically ship Uraraka with Deku, Tsuyu and Iida anyway so! You’re probably not gonna see any romantic baku/ocha from me, sorry o

Anon said:Since we know what Bakugou’s parents are like, what do you think Kirishima’s parents are like?

I have a similar ask somewhere asking about Kaminari’s parents as well, so I guess I’ll answer both here?? As a general rule I don’t really like making headcanons over stuff I’m sure the manga will give me in the future, so I can’t say I’ve thought about this too much - there are a few things I work under the assumption of while drawing, like for example I’m taking for granted they both have at least functional families, considering Aizawa personally visited their homes to ask their guardians about allowing them back to school, and if anything had been weird he would have noticed

I like to think Kaminari got his quirk straight from one of his two parents with no mixing happening, and got the Kaminari surname from them as well, but that’s all I ever allowed myself to settle on as far as Kami’s family goes, everything else changes based on what I need for the current scenario I’m thinking about… I do often end back on him being an only child, though - in the same way depending on how angst or lighthearted I want it to be my ideas for Kirishima’s family change a lot, but generally I think I mostly fall back on the idea of him having a big family? In a scenario like that his parents are kind and love him a lot, but having many children and needing to split their attention on all of them might cause them to overlook him a little (it would explain his obsession with being flashy, for me) then again, who knows? I don’t know how canon you can consider the infos SMASH gives, but in one of the strips Kiri mentions working part-time, and the fact that he doesn’t seem to have problems with money kinda makes me believe he might be independent from his family like that (unless he’s a rich kid, also very entertaining as a possiblity)

I’ve seen a lot of headcanons floating around about both of these guys’ families and possibly being related to villains, that would be cool too, though I’m not sure how much I believe it

I’m sorry this ended up being little to no useful at all lol as I said, I just shift between scenarios a lot - imagine settling on one and growing attached and then having to let it go once Hori proves it wrong, that’d be terrible for me

Anon said:Oh my god…we had a black cat called nitro !! He was super affectionate and high strung. Thanks for reminding me of him. great art as always !!!

You’re!!! the second person telling me they have/had a cat called that!!!! °O° is it a popular name for cats? I just called her that for Baku’s quirk tbh hahaha

Anon said:I would L.O.V.E to do a BNHA art collab with you my lord!

BOI THAT’S FLATTERING!!!!!! I’ve never done collabs before though, so I dunno if I’m comfortable with this? I’ll !!! have to think about it!

Anon said:Not only is your art adorable but how much you babble on in the tags is absolutely precious, you’re like a sunshine who always brightens up the day just by being yourself!

Way to make me blush anon oh my g o d!!!!!! I’m??? glad I can make you smile with my incoherent blabbering??? It’s super nice to know because tbh I just have way too much to say about everything hahaha (read: I dunno how to shut up. ever. rip)

Anon said:I just wanted to say your asks posts and doodles and literally just your whole blog in general brightens up my day so much no matter how sucky it’s been. I had a rough day today but the first thing I saw when I got on tumblr was one of your bakugou drawings and it made me smile when nothing else that day did and I just wanted you to know that. Also you seem like one of the most honest and heartwarming people ever. I hope you have a good weekend. ❤️

gODS what’s up with you guys trying so hard to make me a smiling and blushing mess here aaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!! thank?? you???? I’m really, really, really happy I could make you smile!!! That’s the reason why I post my stuff to begin with, knowing I could help you even just a little bit means a lot!!!

Anon said:I’m really sorry if I reposted anything!!!!! Its truly out of habit….😌 But really, I’m sorry. (By the way, your art is amazing!!)

Thank you!! And as long as you took down whatever you reposted, your apology is more than accepted! Thank you for being understanding! But that kind of habit is something you should really grow out of, anon - for most artists, if they wanted their art on other websites they would post it themselves, and as long as it’s about sharing it here on tumblr a reblog is more than good enough! It’s nice of you to want to share my things, and I’m happy you like my stuff enough to want more people to see it, but since I don’t have accounts anywhere else on the internet I don’t really want my stuff there either - a link back to the original post would suffice if all you want is share, wouldn’t it?

About this, thank you so much to all the super nice people telling me they’re sorry about my stuff being reposted! There’s a lot of you and posting all the asks here would make this post insanely long, but know that I read all of them and I appreciate every word! To those mentioning they do tell people to take my stuff down when they notice it being reposted, thank you so so so so much, and to those worrying I might stop posting, for now that’s still not going to happen - I might reduce the amount of stuff I post for specific fandoms or ships, but I love it all too much and I love sharing my love for them too much to just stop. And thank you for all the nice words and compliments too, you’re all so kind to me !!!!

Anon said:I don’t know if you’re familiar with Dave and Buster’s (it’s a big arcade/restaurant for mainly adults) but I went the other day and all I could think about was “holy shit, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Terushima would have the time of their lives here” anyway, just thought I’d share that with you since I know you ship them as well cx

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! we don’t have those in Italy so I can’t say I am, but this sounds interesting and if it’s bo kuro and teru I’m always up for hearing more! What kind of place is it? How does it work?? *O*

Anon said:Not a question or anything but I just found your blog and it is so nice??? Like all your art is amazing and you’ve made bakushimanari my ot3 and you bakusquad doodles are just perfect too. Just thank you for existing and your art and ideas just give me life. That’s all

THANK YOU OH MY GODS!!!!!!!!!! I’m so so so happy you like my squad stuff?? Lately they’re the most entertaining thing to draw tbh, I’m glad there’s actually people who like all the silliness hahaha I wish you the best weekend, anon, I know this ask just made mine, tbh!!

Anon said:LMAO when did Allen strip I don’t remember that

It’s in an extra! God I can’t remember what they were talking about so I can’t find it, I’ve been trying to since I got this ask (if??? anyone knows??? that’d be much appreciated???) but anyway they were hosting something? It might have been a character poll or something similar but I’m not sure, and Allen was The Host™ and at some point he started stripping and talking about added prices for it and if I remember right Reever and/or Johnny might have started crying for his forever lost and now non-existent innocence (was that a pun? possibly)

Anon said:OMG!!! I get so excited every time I see you posted something and now you just !!! uploaded !!!! all !!!! these !!!! BAKUGOU !!!! BIRTHDAY !!!!! COMICS !!!! AND !!!! I !!!!! AM !!!!! SO !!!! HAPPY !!!!!! (and they are all so adorable!!)

I’M GLAD YOU LIKED THEM HOLY SMOKES!!!!!!! Every time I post so much all together I always worry it’s too much haha I’m sorry for clogging all your dashboards now and again rip

Anon said:I was so excited this chapter of bnha because I thought we’d finally learn Kirishima, my babies, backstory but then we didn’t and now I’m sad (im still holding out for him having met/seen Bakugou in middle school for some reason and being inspired or something).

That’s tbh a good headcanon I’ve seen around now and again, and until Horikoshi will finally stop holding back all the Kiri infos you!!! keep on doing your thing!!!! he for sure already knew of him because everyone did thanks to the sludge incident, so why the heck not

(I can’t say I share the hc though, since until they fought together during the USJ attack Kirishima did think of Bakugou’s quirk as Everything He Ever Wanted™, but he didn’t seem to be much into Bakugou himself? I dunno I dunno Kiri’s very gay and got around to sticking to Bakugou like glue in something like fifteen chapters I can’t say we saw much of how he used to think of him before deciding he wanted to marry him lmao)

Anon said:I love Kirishima so much it’s genuinely confusing, like this boy is literally sunshine and I want him to be happy with his explody bf. The latest chapters gave me life because he is shining and I want the world to love him like I love him. Your art of him is beautiful and the best thing ever.

BOY THANK YOU!!!! I’m glad I can do him justice in your opinion? He’s SO MUCH and SO BRIGHT !!!!!!!!!! It’s kind of hard, making him just as good as he is in canon, but that’s cause he’s perfect how is he that perfect how does he even do that I 100% share all of your confusion anon when did I even fall this hard for that child

Anon said:I’m most into the voltron fandom tonight so if I followed every blog that was suggested I would be burried in more discourse than I can handle lmao so I will just try to dig through tags to find weeks

……that’s really one messy fandom you decided to stick with, anon, I admire your strength - but!!! as far as ship weeks go, since the voltron fandom is pretty huge maybe there might be a blog dedicated specifically to letting you know when fandom events are supposed to happen! You should try digging around for that!!!

#fran answers #i gtg gtg gtg #i'm so lateeee #any mistakes in this depend on the fact that it's WAY TOO LONG and i'm l a t e #ripppp #anonymous

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atomiccourier-archive · 7 years

Text

SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. Don’t reblog.

WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE?: I don’t think I have a proper one. If we’re looking for the one from his ‘main verse’ off of which others may be based, or the one that runs Atom’s storyline when others aren’t present to thread, it would have to be Arcade/Atom/Nate, or Atom/Nate.

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO RP WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?: I think the better question is what would I not be willing to rp? The answer would be r*ape, pe*dophil*ia, plots with racism/homophobia/transphobia from the other shipping party, and breakups. The last one is because i’ve had bad breakups more often than not and cannot handle the subject. If we’re not shipping anymore, then i’d rather just not thread it than write the breakup. (Unless it’s decided beforehand that the breakup was forced by an outside party and that they’re going to get together again soon.)

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?: Atom would not date people below 23 years of age when he is 29. He would not date someone below 26 when he is 35. The age gap will not grow past ten years, unless atom becomes immortal and like, 500 years into the future he finds someone. I also wont ship with muses who are only a child in their main verse, even if the muse is aged up from their canon. It’s unlikely i’ll follow a blog like that anyway.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?: Yes. I’ll only ship with people i’ve spoken with ooc, and are mutuals with. The other obvious selectivity is that Atom is gay, and will not be shipped with female muses.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NS.FW?: Generally if one muses starts to grope/grind or explicitly dirty talk the other muse, that’s nsfw and will go under a cut or into a private chat, depending on what the other mun is comfortable with.

WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH?: Ohhhhh boy theres a TON rn. Lets see. He’s attracted the eye of Tom @bi0w0lf. He’s blubbed his way into the heart of Hancock @selfmedicatingmayor in their pirate/merman au, and probably eventually into the main verse’s heart too, but we haven’t started to write that yet. He used to have @decurionmortuum hate his GUTS but we know eventually they’ll be exchanging cooties. Also something’s been mentioned to happen between Deadsy and Atom and Piers @pierssureshotnivans but its been a little while. Idk. And we cannot forget to mention the one who will always give Atom heart eyes, Xavier @hubflowcr.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?: Generally yeah, unless I ask first. I’m not going to pursue more than a passing crush with Atom and another muse unless told I can and should.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?: Very often, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find just as much enjoyment from other types of relationships. Atom’s just got a cute butt and attracts all the guys. He turns ur BSFs (Best Straight Friends) gay. There’s no stopping it.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?: Fuck yeah.

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?: More on the side of ship obsessed, but I don’t let my ship-loving self get in the way of other things, or take over my muse.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?: I dunno. I’m not connected with the fandom anymore. Courier/Fisto.

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?: Well, have a muse who likes Atom.Then, have that muse be liked by Atom. Also nicely supplemented by one of us asking the other for shipping approval, and finally, profit.

tagged by: I swear I must have been tagged by someone directly already but I finally decided to do it and so stole it from @selfmedicatingmayor

tagging: I tried to find people to tag in this because so many people have been already, but I failed. Please say I tagged you if you haven’t and want to do this?

#|| ooc

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socialjust-ish · 7 years

Text

Continuing A thing

@roun-dab-out, tagging you here because that other conversation got ungodly long, and I’m tired of bothering other people’s notifications, as well as seeing the imagery in the post prior to it.

If people other than roun want to catch up, you can find the post immediately previous this one here

Onto your response. Gonna read-more it, because fuck me this is gonna be long.

So you never actually defined for me what ‘politically informed’ was. I guess you realized how shady and easy to manipulate it was, or just missed that? Either way, either do so, or I’m discounting that.

I dunno, the sources used by someone like the Angry Foreigner are pretty reliable too. Because his sources are (mostly) from Sweden. Once again, the country in question. And he seems to share my views.

So, a few things about his sources (in the video description):

A lot of them are in Swedish. If I’m asking for sources for a claim, and you know I’m not Swedish (which you clearly seem to), giving me a link to Swedish sources and saying ‘figure it out’ is lazy, dishonest, and bad, because I can’t actually verify any of it. I can’t verify where the study is from, who is funding the study, what the funder’s biases are, etc. Citing the Swedish Breitbart doesn’t mean its true, and I can’t tell if it’s the Swedish Breitbart because I can’t read it. Do you see the problem here? You made a claim, I asked for evidence, and you gave me foreign information while also pointing out how I didn’t understand Sweden.

You are the one making the claim. If you want to convince me, you have the burden of proof. And the burden of proof requires a good faith effort on your part. This is not that.

Secondly, halfway through his video, he flat out goes ‘we don’t have the data at all, let’s compare to neighboring countries. For someone going “You need to look at SWEDEN! Listen to SWEDEN!” to go “Eh, neighboring countries are fine” is asinine. Yes, I understand the data isn’t released in Sweden (because of some ultra-left-wing conspiracy too, no doubt), but that means the best and only answer you have is ‘we don’t know.

Which is not what you’ve been saying.

Also! His videos (I can’t read the report because it’s in Swedish) don’t actually say that immigrants have higher conviction rates in the years between 1995 and 2001. They say they have higher suspicion rates. Do you understand the difference between the two? Suspicion can be (and likely is) biased by the investigators in question. Conviction is the actual “You did it”. A racist cop will naturally think a racial minority is more likely to do it. This doesn’t actually say anything about the rate of conviction rates.

Do you see how that’s dishonest and manipulative as fuck?

As I was saying before, the fact that many people consider Sweden a rape capital is the sum of several reasons.

Consider =/= is.

The inflated statistics (which aren’t even that inflated anymore considering women’s comfortability with reporting sex crimes has drastically gone down the last few years) is one part of it

Again, sources aren’t readable, blah blah blah. See the above.

but let’s not forget our terrible penal system that doesn’t punish rapists,

Swedish Recidivism (the rate at which convicted prisoners re-offend after being released) is at about 40%. The UK is about 60%, and the US is Upwards of 80%. If you think the purpose of prison is rehabilitation and allowing individuals to become productive members of society, while keeping them from committing crimes again, Sweden has one of the best success stories out there. The purpose of prison has not been, and should not be to make individuals miserable. It’s supposed to be reformatory. Even the US claims prison is for reformation. “Terrible prison system” with one of the lowest rates of recidivism in the world.

or how Swedish mainstream media is actively straight up lying about the situation in Sweden, particularly when it comes to sex crimes.

Again, this is why I think you’ve kind of gone off a bit friend. “Mainstream media is conspiring to hide this!”

Probably not. Occam’s razor here. Either the entire state’s media, as well as international media are hiding this up for... some reason, or your breitbart-affiliated sites are looking to get people angry, because that gets clicks.

Or maybe how the government refuses to send back both legal and illegal immigrant rapists to where they came from.

If they’re there legally, reformatory and highly successful prison seems to be a better idea, honestly.

Also, citation needed.

Also, would you rather have a criminal (whether there legally or not) be given a chance to reform and re-enter society, or be sent back to their country and almost certainly die? If you value human life (which the concern about rape and murder seem to indicate) then in my opinion, the former option seems much better.

Or why our neighbouring countries aren’t even close to being in the same situation we are in.

Wait, hang on.

You told me to look up Angry Immigrant’s Youtube channel. A channel where his video specifically claims (probably incorrectly) that the best way to figure out Sweden’s rape crisis is to look at the neighboring countries, and now - about 500 words later, are saying that neighboring countries ‘aren’t even close to being in the same situation we are in’

So... Either the whole area is experiencing this crisis, or none of it is. If Sweden’s statistics are on lock down, and you have to compare to other neighboring countries to figure it out, and other countries ‘aren’t even close to being in the same situation’... what does that mean?

It means your sources are probably wrong, and things are fine. And it’s pot-stirrers trying to bring up clicks and incite hatred.

In the end, all this bullshit stacked on top of eachother tends to agitate the population somewhat and this leads to most people considering Sweden a haven for Rapists and criminals in general. Ergo, a rape capital.

Right okay so a few things.

You’re saying bad information that is probably not correct, a misunderstanding of the purpose of the criminal justice system, and intentionally inflammatory videos meant to enrage the population at large aren’t the problem. The problem is that people think there’s a rape crisis, therefore there is?

Also, ‘People consider it to be a haven’ does not mean it actually is. You seem to be under the perception that perception = reality.

Just because the only people you’ve ever talked to about this never mentioned things like these (probably because they were your generic cookie cutter anti-immigrant rednecks)

Wait hang on again.

The people who I spoke to never mentioned the alleged rape crisis that you claim is caused by immigrants because they were anti-immigrant?

“Let’s cover up the racial rapes because we hate those fucking immigrants! That’ll show them!”

I’m sure this is a typo, but if not you’ve really lost the pot here friend.

doesn’t mean it’s not true or not relevant.

No, the fact that your sources appear to be Swedebart is what make them not true or relevant.

It’s a main talking point in Sweden.

It’s a main talking point in Sweden, but the people I’ve talked to have never seen it as a serious issue? One of these two things is not the case.

“Main talking points” are things like... Donald Trump, or climate change. Where even if you disagree with it, you recognize it as an issue (i.e., climate change is an issue for deniers because they fear it makes their country anti-competitive for no reason, etc.)

You claim Sweden is/isn’t a rape capital because of X, which is a somewhat fair point on it’s own but Y, Z, Å, Ä and Ö and so on are also valid reasons to consider it as such, which most people fail to recognize.

Except they’re not valid reasons! They’re contradictory, inflammatory, and intentionally dishonest, and from heavily biased sources at best. As soon as you actively showed disdain for the ‘mainstream media cover-up’ you showed that you’ve been at least a little brainwashed on this. You’re going “Well Kennedy wasn’t assassinated by the CIA, but when you consider the FBI’s sleeper agents, NSA surveillance agents, and Area 51 it’s pretty clear it was a conspiracy, people just fail to recognize those other agencies.”

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