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16woodsequ · 4 years ago

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Can you tell us headcannons/scenes from fic ideas you have had but have gave up on?

I do have a few ideas for fics that I either thought about writing but changed my mind, or have, but didn’t ever really plan on writing. This is mostly because the ideas are very angsty and while I like thinking about them, I think they might be super depressing to write.

Hallucinations

One idea I like playing around with is the idea that Steve started to hallucinate Bucky after he came out of the ice. I probably won’t write this fic, because I am not sure if visual hallucinations commonly work by having just one person following someone around and talking to them. I don’t know enough about having hallucinations to feel comfortable using it as a means of telling a story.

But anyway, if you remember my rant about the cabin SHIELD sends Steve to, I imagine that he started hallucinating Bucky either during or after that. Of course, he wouldn’t tell anyone about it because he would be worried about getting labelled as crazy and sent back to somewhere like the cabin or worse.

I think the hallucination of Bucky would be a personification of Steve’s own thoughts and feelings, so at times Bucky would be comforting and friendly. But other times he could be cruel and blame Steve for letting him die (because Steve blames himself,) or point out all his flaws.

Since I headcanon that Steve knows about the bugs in his apartment, he wouldn’t be able to risk talking to Bucky except when alone outside, or in the bathroom. (Which Bucky would take full advantage off.)

I don’t think he would hallucinate Bucky constantly, but Bucky would show up regularly. I think the first time Bucky showed up, Steve was doing something like cooking, and he hears Bucky’s voice saying ‘I’d like some of that’, and he responds without thinking—before his whole body freezes and he realises what has just happened.

Steve knows that hallucinations are not normal, and that he isn’t okay. But he doesn’t want to tell anyone, and part of him guiltily doesn’t want the hallucinations to stop (something that Bucky calls him out on sometimes, because again, he is basically Steve’s own thoughts, which would be hard to deal with sometimes.)

Bucky doesn’t show up while Steve is on missions, which is important because otherwise Steve would definitely be a liability. Also, it is important, because eventually Steve is going to be fighting the Winter Soldier, and the mask is going to come off, and Steve is going to get a shock of a lifetime.

I imagine that after Hill brings Steve and the others to see Fury, Steve locks himself in the bathroom for a while and rants with hallucination-Bucky, trying to figure out if what he saw was actually real. Since Steve has been hallucinating Bucky for a while, he isn’t sure if he can trust his senses. But he argues that he has never seen Bucky during a fight like that, and why would he hallucinate Bucky’s face on someone like that? He has always seen Bucky as his 40s-self, so why would he see someone with long hair and a metal arm?

(Bucky argues that Steve hasn’t eaten or slept properly for several days, and could just be crazier than usual, and if he is wrong, he could be putting everyone in danger. And, isn’t the fact that he is busy talking to himself in the bathroom alone, a sign that he isn’t really stable? The man didn’t even know who Bucky was, how can Steve claim that he is Bucky?)

In the end, Steve decides that he can’t risk not believing that the Winter Soldier is Bucky, and he decides to treat him like it is Bucky, until he is proven otherwise.

I’m not sure if the hallucinations would stop after Steve finds Bucky, and Steve may or may not finally tell Sam about his hallucinations while they are searching for Bucky.

Some more angsty stories I probably won’t write have to do with self-harm and suicidal tendencies/attempts by Steve, so I’ll put that under the cut line.

Suicidal tendencies

I do have a general headcanon that Steve was suicidal back in the 30s-40s. I imagine it was soon after his Ma died. Steve would have grown up being told he was a burden from one source or another, and he probably felt guilty that he wasn’t able to get his mother more care during her illness.

I can see him getting very depressed and listless after her death, especially if he is in-between jobs, and can’t seem to get another one. I headcanon he lived with Bucky, and Bucky would be working to try to pay the rent, and Steve would start to think it would just be better if he weren’t there taken up money and resources.

I think it would take some time before Steve actually decides that he should kill himself, but the idea would slowly grow more and more intrusive. Eventually he would convince himself that everybody would be better off if he were dead. (Especially since, with his illnesses, he has probably been told he is going to die young anyways. Might as well get is over with.)

For this, I headcanon that he planned to jump off the Brooklyn bridge. I’ve looked at pictures, and heard stories, so I think it is possible for him to do that. On the day that he planned it, he waited for Bucky to go to work, and then he put away all his things in the apartment, and wrote a note for Bucky to leave on the table. In the note, he mentions where his body will probably be found.

He goes out, and first stops by Mrs. Barnes to say goodbye to her (although she doesn’t know that.) It starts raining as he begins walking down to the Brooklyn bridge. I don’t know how far it would be from where he lived, but he wouldn’t really be concerned about the distance.

Meanwhile, Bucky happens to come home early. At first he is confused by Steve not being home, but then he sees the note on the table, and reads it with growing horror. Since Steve mentioned where he was going, Bucky dashes out of the house, hoping against hope that he isn’t too late.

It is pouring rain by now, and there is almost nobody on the bridge because of the weather. Steve is right by the railing when Bucky gets there, and he’s kind of out of it since he isn’t in a good place right now. Bucky ends up tackling him and Steve is shocked to see him.

Bucky is, of course, terrified and angry, and he yells at Steve because he is so scared. Steve just breaks down and they eventually make it home. I don’t think suicide was really talked about a lot back then, so neither of them would really know what to do, and it would probably sit between them like an elephant in the room for a while.

Eventually the tension would snap and Steve would probably yell about why he is better off dead, and Bucky would yell back how wrong he is about that. I can imagine Steve saying something like “You know I’ll be dead by thirty anyways. You know what the doctor says.”

And then Bucky grabs his shoulders desperately and just goes. “No! No. They keep sayin’ that, and you always prove them wrong. Who cares what they say? You gotta prove ‘em wrong. You’re going to live till your one hundred, ya hear? Promise me.”

And then Steve would stare wide-eyed at him, and stutter out a promise.

Steve wouldn’t try to kill himself again in the 40s, but that promise would become important after he wakes up from the ice.

When Steve wakes up in the ice, I imagine his depression hit even worse, and it was even harder for him to resist his intrusive, suicidal thoughts. And, when he wakes up from the ice, he is technically 94 years old. So he resigns himself to leaving six more years. He decides he can live six more years before he kills himself. He doesn’t know if he ages anyways, and the thought of living like this forever is horrifying, but he can do six years. He can keep his promise to Bucky and last six more years.

Of course, intrusive thoughts are very hard to resist, so I imagine Steve got close to making another attempt in the two years after he woke up, but he was either interrupted or managed to talk himself down.

And then, eventually he finds Bucky again, and that focus helps push away the thoughts for the time being.

I always imagine though, that while in Wakanda, Bucky remembers Steve trying to kill himself when they were younger, and he confronts Steve about it. That is when they are finally able to have an open conversation about what Steve felt, and what Bucky felt, and where each of them are mentally now.

Self-harm

This was a fic that I actually planned to write. I have a WIP that was going to introduce this eventually.

The idea was that after Steve woke up from the ice, he slowly began to self-harm to deal with all his anxious, repressed emotions. It would start out small—digging his nails into his fists, and arms to try to focus/calm down etc—before eventually it would evolve to cutting.

Steve is very careful to hide it, and his super healing helps. I headcanoned that he used a pocketknife that Bucky gave him during the war (one of the only things of his that he has, besides his compass). He always keeps it on him, and he develops a sort of anxious tick were he unconsciously brushes his hand over his pocket when he is feeling stressed, just to reassure himself that the knife is there if he needs it.

He knows that self-harm isn’t healthy, but he avoids thinking about it. He justifies the fact that he heals quickly, and doesn’t scar. It hardly matters, right?

I usually headcanon that Sam finds out about the self-harm while they are tracking down Bucky. Once Sam finds out, Steve does try to work on quitting, but it is a two steps forward, one step back process for him. He starts carrying around elastic bands in his gear belt so that he can use those when he has an urge.

Usually I don’t have any of the other Avengers find out—although Steve might tell Bucky once they get to Wakanda. Once Infinity War came out, I headcanoned that Steve really wanted to keep from self-harming after Sam and Bucky died, because he knew they would want him to, so he asked Natasha to hang onto his knife for him. She didn’t know why he asked that, but she could tell it was important.

When I first thought about writing this story, it appealed to me because I wanted to write a self-harm story that should the slow progression Steve’s self-harm took.

The main reason I don’t think I will write this story anymore is because it will probably be depressing for a long time. In order to do the slow-burn right, we’d have to follow Steve’s headspace for a while, so it would be a long time before he got any help. I still like this idea, but I probably won’t write it.

I hope you enjoyed those fic ideas! Hopefully it wasn’t too depressing. If you want to chat with me more about this ideas, feel free!

Headcanon masterpost

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heckpup · 4 years ago

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Hmmmmmm Time for the Part 2 of the Immortal Tommy AU I cooked up with my raw materials in the middle of the night

:DDDDDDDDD What fun. I have also now decided that Tommy's new wings are now phoenix style (cause he's immortal now, innit?), in flames, but only at the tips (so far, this will change the older he gets) and only if he wants them to be. Had he still been mortal, they probably would've been just a regular red, and so that is what they look like when they're not on fire.

Also, I'd like to imagine that the old worlds from when we were kids (with borders and that didn't go on forever and just stopped and dropped off into the void, right? I know me and my friends loved to find the corners and try to go through. Good times.) are what the god's personal realms are like. Not enough room for rebellion, since there's not enough room to run from an angry god/goddess. If you go to the edge, you can look at/travel to other worlds as well. Most gods don't bring other people into their worlds anyway, but *shrugs*

Edit: (I can't believe I forgot this I'm so sorry ;-;) TW:Mentions of bl00d, Mention of de@th, mentions of m@n!pulat!0n and g@sl!ght!ng, mentions of t0rture.

Just thought I should mention + explain.

"Hey Clara?" Tommy asks from a small tree, letting his feathers move gently in the wind.

"Yes, Tommy?" Clara calls from below, looking up at the young immortal. Tommy glides down to meet her on the ground, and he looks up at her a little sheepishly.

"Do you think that since, well, you know, I'm recovered and shit, I could visit those bitches from the SMP? I kinda just want to, uh, blow up at them, sorta. I just- its a lot of untapped rage and I really just wanna scream at 'em, you know? It's totally ok if you think I shouldn't I mean, you are the biggest man- er, woman- here, just wanted to ask, but uh-"

"Tommy." Clara cuts him off with a small smile, and a bit of mischief and malice (And anger, as well) twinkling in her dark eyes. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Besides," She begins to walk over to the edge of their small world, "they need to understand what they did, and its never good for us immortals to hold grudges over mortals. Could cause some unplanned problems in the far future."

Tommy beams, and Clara begins mentally preparing for the showdown with glee. "Tommy, how do you want to do it?" She asks, inner drama queen squealing.

"Well-" Tommy tells her- "-I really want it to be big and dramtic, you know? Like lightning and thunder, and like things bursting into flame and shit. I could probably do the flames myself, but do you think-" He looks up at her expectantly.

"Of course!" She says, patting his shoulder. "A storm fit for a god. It would be only fitting, of course. I am going to come along, of course. Just in case there are any unexpected developments, like more dramatic effect."

Tommy nods. "Yeah! Those bitches aren't gonna know what hit them! But, do you think you could stay invisible 'n shit for it? I still wanna do this by myself. I don't-" He cuts himself off, feathers ruffling. "I wanna yell and bitch about it, and I want to do this on my own. Like an important milestone on my recovery." Clara nods in agreement.

"Right, right. For the lightning though, is there any houses you want to keep out of harms way? I plan on hitting a lot of houses, just to get people up and moving."

Tommy thinks for a minute. "Uh, maybe hit close to Ranboo's house- he's the black and white hybrid, he's always been pretty nice to me- and Sam and Puffy and BadBoyHalo. Sam put Dream in prison a while ago, and Puffy and BBH gave me some gifts the night before you picked me up. So, they're clear from property damage, but I still want to see them. Defintely break Dream out, I want to yell at him though. Wait, maybe I can break him out, like teleport him away from the prison and show off my new powers and shit- anyway, maybe save Niki as well, she was always nice."

Clara nods and begins to locate the small world that she pulled Tommy from so many years ago. "Goodness!" She laughs. "It's been a while since you looked down at this one, isn't it?"

"Yeah, haven't had much time to think shit about those old bitches." Tommy begins to search with her, quickly locating the small SMP, being recently cleared of the red bloodvines that had plagued it for a while.

While they plan, they laugh, and Clara is reminded of how far the young godling had been when she whisked him away. His old SMP hadn't deserved him, not even for a second.

Tommy and Clara were watching from the clouds as the little people in the SMP ran around panicked about the storm that was destroying a lot of their houses. Tommy watched with glee and satisfaction as the majority of the SMP (save for Dream, of course) gathered in the newly rebuilt community house to discuss the looming problem.

"Dream has to be behind this, Sam!" Fundy growled out. "He's the only one that has this kind of power!"

"You ready?" Clara asked Tommy, after waiting for him to be perfectly positioned under one of the next lightning bolts, aimed at one of the doorways to the community house. Tommy nodded and lit the tips of his wings, prepared for the force of the bolt to push him back down to the earth.

The lightning hit, and Tommy found himself being thrown down and pushed to the ground.

The first thing he noticed was that the bolt left little sparks over his body and his wings were a little more lit up than usual.

The second thing he noticed was that everyone in the community house was looking at him.

He stood up and, with a great amount of false confidence, strode into the room. Tubbo was staring slack-jawed, as were most people in the building. Phil's face was incredibly pale, to the point that Tommy actually began to worry about the man's health. Ranboo looked at him wide-eyed, but then Tommy saw recognition flash and a smile began to creep onto his face.

But the person that Tommy had his eyes on the most was the no-longer transparent form of his elder brother, well and alive again.

"What's up, bitches?" Tommy grinned, and suddenly the room was alive with shouts and yelling and holy Prime, Tommy probably should have prepared more for this reaction but he hadn't even known Wilbur was alive but oh, Phil's yelling about how Tommy left him and-

"Tommy, how could you? You've been off to who knows where? Where the fuck have you been? How could you leave us?" Phil's void-black wings ruffled, and Tommy didn't even think before responding,

"I've been off healing, bitch! You know, from all the trauma you adults forced on me? And the gaslighting from Dream? The manipulation? It took me years to get over that shit, and the god's world-time runs slow! I spent a whole fucking year trying to understand that what you bitches put me through was fucking wrong, and I was not alright! I left you all here because you left me when I was at my fucking WORST! YOU LET A SIXTEEN YEAR-OLD FIGHT IN FUCKING WARS AND GET EXILED! YOU EXPECTED ME TO TAKE THAT SHIT LIKE A FUCKING ADULT? FUCK NO!" Tommy's wings flared out and he could feel the heat radiating off of it, his flames responding to his anger.

"Thomas Minecraft-Innit, I am your father, how dare you-"

"Oh, you're my father now? Now, after you abandoned me, neglected me, left me in the dust? You cared more about your fucking war buddy than your own two sons! Wilbur was more of a father than you were, and then you fucking killed him!"

"Tommy-" Tubbo tried to interject.

"AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON YOU TUBBO! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID? YOU LEFT ME AS WELL, YOU LEFT ME WITH FUCKING DREAM! YOU EXILED ME, AND FOR FUCKING WHAT? A SAD POSITION IN A COUNTRY THAT YOU LET DREAM PUPPETEER ANYWAY! WE FOUGHT THAT WAR TO GET AWAY FROM DREAM, AND THEN YOU FUCKING LET HIM RIGHT BACK IN!" Tommy raged, turing on his ex-best friend. "Oh, speaking of-" He snapped his fingers and then Dream was in the room with them, wearing an orange jumpsuit and looking around wildly.

The room let out a great outburst, which, to be fair, was expected.

But then Dream took one look at Tommy and decided that it was a-fucking-okay to try and re-manipulate Tommy again. As if he didn't notice that Tommy was much older, much more healed and much more powerful than before. (Or that could just be him. Clara did tell him that gods- and even godlings- could change their age and appearance, and sometimes it was involuntary and depended on emotions and metal stability. Tommy did actually feel much younger. Maybe it was from being in this place, this world, and being in front of the person that hurt him most. That would make sense.)

"Tommy!" Dream cried with unusual glee. "You're here to help me, aren't you? You finally came to your senses about your best friend, right?" Tommy only raised an eyebrow in response, not giving him an answer. "What, not going to give an answer to your only friend? Tommy, I stayed with you, I kept you company when no one else did, remember?" Prime, how long did Dream think he had been in that prison for?

Tommy only shrugged and then pulled out a sword and dashed up to Dream, keeping the blade on Dream's throat. "You mother fucker. You are the biggest bitch boy I've ever, and I mean ever, had the pleasure of knowing, bitch boy. You are the absolute worst thing to ever happen to me, you know that? You killed me twice, and for what? Gratification of knowing you killed a teenager? And then you tried to gaslight me, manipulate me into doing your sick shit for you? That's the most fucked up thing I've ever known, Dream. I'm going to enjoy taking this life from you." And then he swung, embedding the blade into the wall behind where Dream's body had once been.

TommyInnit killed Dream with [A Final Blow]

Dream made the achievement [Banned?]

"Tommy what-" Tommy turned to look at Technoblade, who was looking blankly at his chatlog.

"Oh, don't worry too much about him. He'll just be stuck for a few days in the ban-void, and then he'll come back on his own." A great number of people paled, knowing the ban void, when you were still on a world, meant that you were subjected to great amounts of agony as your body tore itself apart and tried to pull its code back together. And Tommy had just taken one of Dream's lives, too!

"Tommy, what happened to you?" Phil asked, horrified.

"I grew up," Tommy said with a smile. "And now I have the rest of time to spend continuing to grow and live. Becuase now, Tommy Innit never dies."

Techno rushed at him suddenly, axe swinging. It caught the edge of Tomm'y neck, and Tommy took the chance to grab Techno by the scruff on his, and lift him up, also while feeling his body grow older. Several gasps were heard around the room at the sudden change. "What were you trying to do there, Technoblade? You can't kill a god." And then he let Techno drop to the ground, before touching the part of his neck Techno had sliced.

His hand drew away with golden ichor.

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xbladekitkat85 · 4 years ago

Text

Why Clint is on Tony’s Sh*t List

Word count: A bit over 3k.

Chapter summary: Peter and Harley are brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Which is highly classified knowledge that nobody outside of the Avengers knows. Until Clint Barton accidentally spills the secret with a technology related mishap.

Warnings: A bit of language here and there. Tony threatening Clint’s life because he did an oopsie.

Peter's POV

In the school that is Midtown School of Science and Technology, everyone is basically a genius of some sort. You have biology geeks, math geeks, chemistry geeks, robotics geeks. You name a branch of STEM subjects, there are guaranteed to be at least 5 masters in every subject.

That being said, being a master in a subject doesn't mean that you would be instantly popular. Sure you might get hounded for homework help, but it doesn't mean you actually make friends as easily. It's more like people want to leech off of your knowledge and don't bother to get to know you.

There's a social pyramid in all schools and let's just say I'm towards the bottom of mine. I build Lego sets, I love Star Wars, I'm a whiz at chemistry and math. But people ignore the fact that I'm 'somewhat' intelligent and focus on the Lego and Star Wars part of my image. Which sucks big time. At least I'm graduating this year.

But at least I have my brother Harley to confide in. We argue over stupid stiff but we both enjoy poking fun at each other.

3rd person POV

Peter was sitting at his usual table with his small group of friends. Ned, MJ, and Betty made up this small group of people.

"So, what are you guys doing this weekend?" Ned asked the group.

"Uhhhh, I was planning on going to see that new movie coming out." Betty answered. "You know, the one with Emilia Clarke and what's his name."

"Oh yeah, I know which one you're talking about." Ned replied.

"You losers can go see a movie, I'm going to a protest outside of Oscorp." MJ replied, sipping her thermos of coffee.

"What did Oscorp do?" Peter asked curiously.

"They're trying to cover up an employee getting severely injured, the safety protocols are shitty, and HR is as usual, the worst part of it all in addition to the censorship of the incident online."

Peter nodded his head, eyes widened.

"Gotcha. I definitely understand why you're going."

MJ set her thermos down and opened her latest book, Speak.

Ned turned to look at Peter.

"Stark internship all weekend?" He inquired.

Peter shrugged and took a sip of water.

"I'm gonna hang out with Harley. Probably do some stuff in the lab. Usual stuff."

Betty shook her head in disbelief.

"I still can't believe you're friends with him." She said. "He's pretty high on the social ladder here. I mean I know you guys have the internship together but it's still kind of baffling that I never see you interacting in school."

Ohhhhh, if you only knew Betty. Peter laughed to himself on the inside.

Nobody at school knew that Peter and Harley were half brothers and the children of Tony Stark. Not even Ned or MJ knew although he suspected that MJ somehow knew or was close to figuring it out. She's scarily perceptive and freakishly good at knowing things about other people that she definitely shouldn't.

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch.

The four friends parted ways and headed to their respective classes.

*After school*

Peter arrived at the tower straight from Delmar's after picking up snacks for the weekend. He had grabbed an assortment, ranging from potato chips to pretzel M&Ms. He waved at Ms. Maldonado, the lady who commanded the reception area and dashed to the elevator, scanning his pass when prompted.

FRIDAY greeted him when the doors closed.

"How was your day Peter? Harley is already waiting for you. He told me to tell you, and I quote, "Peter, I hope you remembered my PRETZEL M&Ms not PEANUT M&M's like last time. If you forgot, I'm going to steal that new Lego set you were planning on building tomorrow. And I WILL hide it somewhere you'll never, ever, find it. Insert maniacal cackling, blah blah blah."

Peter stifled a laugh at Harley's message.

"Uh, well my day was the usual, you know. And tell Harley I got his stupid M&Ms. And I grabbed him something else too if he promises not to threaten the Legos again."

"Sure thing, Peter."

He exited the elevator to the floor which housed the labs he shared with Harley. There were multiple as the duo tended to accidentally blow things up and would need to have another place to work while repairs were being done. Needless to say, Tony was more than a little annoyed that his kids needed multiple labs because they kept blowing them up. But whatever, he loves them and will pay for it as long as he gets to blackmail them with all the ridiculous stories of what blew up and how it happened.

Harley looked up towards the door Peter walked through and lifted his welding mask off his face.

"Hand over the merchandise, blockhead." He said, his arm stretched towards the bag of goodies Peter was carrying.

"Only if you promise to leave the Legos alone, biotch." He replied.

Harley rolled his eyes and dramatically lifted his hand in the air as if he was testifying in court.

"I promise not to touch the Legos." He said in a half joking tone.

Peter handed him the pack of M&Ms as well as a container of Oreos.

"I still don't understand why you like pretzel M&Ms." Peter remarked. "There's too much pretzel and not enough chocolate."

Harley stared directly at him as he tore open the M&Ms and popped a few in his mouth.

"I don't understand why you don't like pineapple on pizza." Harley shot back as he swiveled around in his chair

Peter groaned.

"We are not having this discussion again."

"Peter you're an idiot if you don't like pineapple on your pizza."

"Harley, you're a disgrace to the entire state of New York if you do. Fruit is not supposed to go on a proper pizza."

Harley chucked a bolt at Peter's head.

"Hey!" He protested as he turned to look at Harley. And then he saw a glint in Harley's eyes.

"Pizza is a dish with everything from the food pyramid. You have grain, dairy, meat, vegetables, fats, and oh, wait, you don't like pineapple so you're missing out. You could be getting every nutrient from the food pyramid but you're an idiot so you miss your daily serving of delicious pineapple on your pizza."

"Oh my god, stop."

The boys busted out laughing for a full 3 minutes, eventually with Harley falling out of his chair. Tony walked in to find his kids cackling at who knows what, and one on the floor, almost incapacitated by his laughter. He sighed before clearing his throat to gain their attention.

The boys sobered up and finally stopped laughing but they had unshed tears left from the fun.

"What on earth were you two dying of laughter over? Should I call a therapist? Do I need to be concerned? Did you eat something that you shouldn't have?"

Harley sniggered as Peter was trying to keep a straight face.

"He was eating pretzel M&Ms!" Peter said, holding back his laughter. "The type that should be illegal!"

"Peter, you don't diss Pretzel M&Ms, they're an underappreciated member of the M&Ms family. If you think pretzel M&Ms should be illegal, you clearly haven't tried the raspberry ones." Harley replied while doing his best to keep his face straight. "If anything, you should call a therapist for Peter and help him overcome his aversion to pineapple on pizza."

Tony looked even more lost than he was before.

"Ok, I don't know what I'm supposed to make of this. FRIDAY, show me footage of what the hell happened while I wasn't here."

"Sure thing boss."

Friday pulled up security footage of Harley and Peter's conversation. Tony watched it as the two teens were snickering behind him. After he understood the situation he turned to his kids and let out a tired sigh.

"Ok, I don't understand your sense of humor, but I came to tell you that we're having Italian for dinner."

Peter pumped his fist and Harley just shrugged.

"Italian is fine by me I guess."

"All right kiddos, be in the dining room by 7ish or else I'll cut the power to these labs. We eat as a family."

*Time skip*

It was 2 am, Monday morning and everything was silent except for the faint noise of shuffling towards the ceiling.

Clint Barton was crawling around in the vents, obviously on his way to do something he probably shouldn't be.

He had lost a bet with Nat earlier and the punishment was that he had to steal something for blackmail off of FRIDAY's databases.

He quietly dropped out of a vent shaft into an important looking office. He didn't bother checking who it belonged to but he was already too far gone to ask.

"Ok Nat, what do you want me to look for?" He whispered into his earpiece.

"Check the computer on the desk. The password is written on a sticky note in your pocket."

He checked his pocket and there was indeed a post it with a password on it.

"Ok, what am I supposed to find?" He asked once he logged in.

"Look for footage from the labs." She said. "Check labs CTS2 and IAI1."

"CTS2 and IAI1, gotcha." He reaffirmed.

He browsed around until he found the cameras he needed.

"Ok, found em. What dates should I look at?"

"Look at this past Friday," She answered, "around 4:45 to 6:15 pm. Tony drank from a can of motor oil instead of his coffee cup. I would like this footage in my posession. For my entertainment, and possibly blackmail to pull on him."

"All righty, ok, uhhhh." He muttered as he searched through that window of time.

He watched snippets of the footage and fast forwarded a few times until he glimpsed footage of Harley swiveling around in his chair as Peter looked exasperated. He paused and rewound to see what the situation was.

As Clint watched the whole argument play out and the aftermath, a shit eating grin began to spread across his face. He emailed himself the whole interaction for his own entertainment (blackmail, cough cough) and went back to searching for what he originally came for. He eventually found it, sent it to Natasha, logged out of the computer, and climbed into the open vent.

"You get it?" Nat asked suspiciously.

"Oh yeah, I got it." He said, trying to hold back the mischievous laughter that was threatening to let loose. He checked his phone to see whether he got the email he sent to himself. But to his surprise and sudden panic, it was not there. His social media, however, was blowing up with comments about the two kids and who they were and theories people were spouting.

"Oh shit."

"What did you do, Clinton?" Nat asked in a threateningly monotone voice.

Clint banged his head on the vent, forgetting that he still had his comms on.

"I may or may not have accidentally exposed Peter and Harley as Tony's kids."

Nat was silent for a moment before she finally responded.

"Tony's probably going to kill you for this, so you should pack your bags right now. Make funeral arrangements as well and update your will."

"Ah shit."

*Monday morning, 6:45 am*

Peter woke up to his phone ringing. He groaned and turned on his side to ignore the call. The phone rang again and he sighed before reluctantly sitting up and grabbing his phone.

What the hell, who's calling this early?

He looked at his notifications and saw multiple missed calls and texts from Ned and MJ. Something must have happened because Ned had typed in all caps, 'PETER EVERYONE KNOWS! CALL ME NOW!' MJ's text just said, 'I knew already. Don't try to hide it from me whenever you come to school.'

Instantly, Peter was wide awake. Did the whole world know he was Spiderman? But how did this happen, who would leak that information and how did they get it?

He called Ned and before he could even say, "What's up?" Ned butted in with a sentence he was not expecting.

"Peter, when were you going to tell me your dad was Tony Stark?! This is even bigger than Spiderman! As your Guy in the Chair, I think this knowledge might have been missing in our conversations."

Peter was at a loss for words as he stood up.

"It's all over social media and people are going apeshit over this!"

"Ned, you shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet." Peter replied in a nervous tone as he began pacing back and forth in his room. "How do you know the source is credible? Remember what Ms. Hernandez said about credibility when giving information in an essays or whatever?"

"But Peter, Hawkeye was the one who posted it. You know, the Avenger who shoots arrows?"

Peter stopped pacing and froze midstep.

Uncle Clint was behind this? But why?

"You sure he wasn't hacked?" Peter asked as he feebly attempted to get out of this confrontation.

"No, it's security footage from a lab. Tony said in the video that you guys were a family."

Peter then realized that he couldn't worm his way out of this situation. The whole world knew he and Harley were brothers and the sons of Tony Stark. Of course this happened, why wouldn't it?

"I'm going to call you back, I need to talk to Clint." Peter said.

"Ok, just let me know if you and Harley are going to be ok or not." Ned replied.

"Bye Ned."

"Bye."

Peter hung up and took a deep breath before leaving his room to go find Clint.

He entered the kitchen and almost everyone was there except the one person he wanted to talk to.

"Hey, uh, where's uncle Clint?" Peter asked.

Uncle Steve looked up from his breakfast.

"He left last night. Family emergency."

"Uh huh, so correct me if I'm wrong but Clint left because dad was going to kill him, right?"

Suddenly everyone was avoiding eye contact with Peter. Yup, everyone knew what happened.

Just then, Tony walked in with a very irritated expression.

"I don't think you and Harley are going to be able to go to school today. Some kid from your school, Dash or something posted you go to school with him and know you both. So there are multiple news stations outside the tower and surrounding your school. Might be best to just stay home today."

"Is Uncle Clint still alive?" Harley asked as he walked in, yawning.

"He is alive," Tony responded "Not for much longer though."

"Dad, you can't just kill him." Peter protested. "It's not like he actually did anything that warrants his death."

"I don't think he meant to do it." Harley added. "He deleted it maybe 10 minutes after he posted it but other people recorded it on their own devices and re shared it. He probably realized what he had done and tried to delete it but of course, once it's out there, it's out there."

"Don't kill Uncle Clint, he's got a wife and kids. Besides, we need him on the team." Peter said.

"We don't need Clint," Tony said, waving his hand. "I already got a replacement set up."

Peter had not heard of this new team member that was apparently going to replace Clint.

"Who is it?" Harley asked curiously.

"Kate Bishop. She's already on her way here. Clint trained her to take over the mantle of Hawkeye anyway so it shouldn't be that big a deal." Tony shrugged. "She's a bit older than you two, 18 or 19, I can't remember at the moment."

"Ok, then, as long as she's trusted by you." Peter relented.

"Don't know what she might be like, but if Clint trained her, and they share similar personalities, whatever spirits above help us." Harley said solemnly.

Peter smacked Harley's arm.

"Hey!" He complained.

"She's not even here yet and you are badmouthing her already. Have some manners, dude."

"It doesn't matter at the moment right? You said it yourself, she's not here yet and I will 'have some manners' when she does."

All of a sudden, Peter heard a nearly imperceptible shuffling coming from above. He felt a shiver go down his spine and the instinct to get into a defensive position.

"He's right, you should have some manners young man." An unfamiliar voice boomed from above.

Harley looked around wildly in confusion.

"Who's there?! Are you a spirit from above???" He asked.

All of a sudden, a figure dropped out of the vent directly above Harley and tackled him to the ground.

"And that is Kate Bishop." Tony said, answering the question in everyone's mind.

Kate released Harley from her grip and she helped him up.

"Clint was right," She said, smiling. "Crawling through the vents to prank people is fun."

She looked up to the open vent and held out her arms, to everyone's confusion.

"Lucky, come on down!" She called.

To everyone's shock, a dog with one good eye poked his head out from the vent and jumped into Kate's arms.

"Oh crap, nobody has allergies to dog dander, right?" Kate asked, looking at everyone.

"Maybe? I'm not sure." Peter replied.

"Damn, I should have checked before bringing him, huh." Kate muttered.

Tony waved his hand at the dog.

"As long as he's potty trained, we should be fine." He said, trying to reassure her worries. "We're all fine with dogs."

Peter thought back to all the dogs he's pet on patrol. They always seemed happy to play with him and now there was a dog in the tower. Huzzah, he didn't get to only pet dogs on patrol now!

"Well, all's well that ends well, right?" Peter said.

"How about everyone gets acquainted with Kate?" Tony suggested. "It's not like you two are going to school today anyway."

Peter and Harley agreed and that day became a get to know the new team member day.

Peter texted Ned to let him know he was going to school the next day and invited him to the tower after school to meet someone. Oh the look on Ned's face when he found out would be priceless.

Taglist:

@frostedgiant

Send an ask if you would like to be tagged!

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #harley keener #kate bishop #ned leeds #mj #michelle jones #clint barton #natasha romanoff #irondad #irondad fanfic #fanfiction #hawkeye #ironman #spiderman

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marvellouslymadmim · 3 years ago

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Hey! Aspiring fanfic writer here; I was wondering if you could talk a bit about your writing/editing process and how long it all takes.

Thanks!

Welp, roughly the same extremely long amount of time it takes to actually answer an ask, tbh 🙃

So...I only know how my brain works, and I can only tell you what works for me might not work for you, and that's OK. I'm breaking into two separate bits, because I almost never do writing and editing at the same time.

And as far as a timeline, honestly it just depends. On life factors, what my hormones are doing at the time (jfc like the week before my period, I have zero creativity, motivation, or attention span), if I'm having trouble with a particular scene, if I'm getting consistent positive feedback (yes, I can totally admit that I write faster when I know a particular reviewer is following along with every update), etc.

WRITING:

First, you gotta just...be fixated, I guess. Particularly if it's an AU, I sit with it for a long time before I ever write a word. I go over scenes, think about how the world changes, what stays the same, what *has* to stay the same to keep the characters true to their canon personalities. I sit with the characters for a long time, too--not just the main characters, but the supporting cast, too. In order to predict someone's future, you have to know their past. Most of our present actions are actually reactions to past events, when you think about it. The better you know your version of the character, the easier every other aspect of writing will be. I don't know how it is for other people, but I don't ever "feel" like I'm writing. I feel like I'm "witnessing", and the characters are simply doing whatever they wish. (***this is gonna be a thing during the editing process, too, so hang on to that)

Then once I have a general idea, I choose a title. Generally, I do not even start a word document until I have a proper title to put on it. The title is part of the theme and aesthetic to me, and it grounds me in the overall arc.

Once that's done, it's time for outlining. I generally wait until I feel this weird almost tingling in my left arm (weirder still bc I'm right handed) and I'm practically vibrating with a need to WRITE THIS STORY NOW. Then I put on some Bear McCreary (honestly, any videogame soundtrack will do, as they are literally designed to help you maintain focus and keep pace) and fucking go to town. For me, it helps to do this with pen and paper, so that I can go back up and squiggle little notes in the margin, rearrange the order, etc, far faster than I could on a computer.

Important note: the outline is not the end-all be-all. Some things don't make it to the final print. Some minor storylines get tossed or characters simply...take a different path than I expect. I will continue re-writing and updating the outline as I go along. On average, I usually have 5-8 outlines per story, and they're often 3-10 pages long. I also have a posted outline, which is a log of all the scenes that did make it to the final product.

Then, it's the actual writing, at long last. I have found that I write best at the start of my day, before the noise and static of daily life comes in. So I wake up around 5am and spend 90minutes writing before beginning my workday routine. I have the Word app on my phone and may continue adding bits in throughout the day at work, if I get a moment. However, after 5pm my brain is usually fried and no more creativity happens. On weekends, I try to have one morning where I "sleep in" til 6am, and then write until at least 10am, sometimes 2pm, if I can get away with it.

The hardest part still is knowing when to transition and when to skip to the next chapter/scene/whatever. This is like...zero percent helpful, but I liken it to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's definition of pornography: "I know it when I see it." It may seem like a scene is circling, and sometimes it means you gotta leave the room a bit earlier bc the scene has already served its purpose. Other times, it means ya gotta stay with it a bit longer, because there's something the character is trying to say. Give them patience, and give yourself patience, too. Explore the scene and its dynamics. You won't know til you know and even then, sometimes you won't be entirely sure. That's ok, too. Part of the process. Remember editing will happen and you can decide then (hell, you can literally re-edit after it's been published, I've done that before too and added a note on the next chapter for any readers who might have read the first version 🤷🏻‍♀️ not ideal but still functional).

EDITING:

I do simple edits (spelling, grammar, etc) just about every morning as I reread what I wrote the day before, which is a refresher course for the day's writing session. But big "real" editing generally doesn't happen until right before posting.

Now, here's the ***issue from writing: sometimes, something just "doesn't work" in a scene. Again, you'll know it when you see it. The words a character is saying feels clunky. The pacing feels off. Something just...ain't right. More often than not, it means either I haven't truly sat with a character long enough to know their true motivations/backstory, or I am not giving characters the proper time/space/impediment to make the actions or say the things they're currently making/saying. I'm trying to force the flow, rather than letting it ebb and breathe when it needs to.

Absolute ProTip: You spent HOURS writing this scene. It's got some REALLY GOOD moments and lines in it. It doesn't work but you can't just delete it. It's your LIFE. I struggle with this A LOT, and I have found a solution: create a second "outtakes" document to cut and paste those scenes into. Sometimes I still keep moments or bits of dialog. Sometimes I later use bits in a later scene. Sometimes I never look at it again but I still feel secure in knowing that if I wanted to go back and use the original scene instead, I totally can. I don't think I've actually ever gone back to the original, tbh, but it reduced my anxiety about deleting the scene and starting over.

So back to the scene that doesn't work. I take it apart, figure out *at what exact point* it stops working, then work back up a few lines to see where the shift actually begins. More often than not, it's because I'm having characters express their feelings in ways they actually wouldn't. (people very very very rarely actually say what they're thinking/feeling, and you have to relay it in other ways). So I have to keep the internal monologue of what they're actually feeling/thinking, while figuring out how that actually translates via tone, body language, and what they do and don't say.

The "something ain't working stage" can take LITERAL WEEKS. I sometimes have to walk away for awhile, or tackle it only on days when I know I have hours upon hours to truly work on it. I keep circling back around, and eventually, the knot works itself out. Persistence, and insistence that "good enough" isn't actually good enough, are key. (this is why you have to fixated on the story you want to tell--because some days, it's going to take every ounce of that obsession to keep you going and keep you on the track of telling the story you wanted to tell, rather than settling or switching to an easier tack)

Sometimes, editing is a breeze. I don't change much, I may go a little more into the character's inner world here or there. Once you've been doing this for awhile, you'll just know when a story hits all its marks--and you'll also know when it's not, when it could be more or do more, and you can figure out how to get it there. There isn't a precise formula for it, it's more like cooking without an actual recipe to follow--a dash here, a bit there, you'll know it when you taste it.

And I'll leave you with this unsolicited bit: just write. Write often, write about everything, write what makes YOU passionate and happy, and absolutely write for yourself. Edit the fuck out of it, if you need to. Get a beta reader, if you need to. Get someone to just bounce ideas off, if you need to. And don't post it until you're truly ready and it's something you genuinely want to share. If someone gives constructive criticism, take in on the chin and move on (keep the notes, if you think they're valid, and toss em if you don't--you'll never be everyone's style of writer, so know that sometimes, people just won't be the target audience). Know that you'll grow and you'll learn and you'll find your own voice and like any skill, you'll develop a second nature about it--all those parts where I say "you'll know it when you see it" or "you'll feel it" absolutely come from spending a literal lifetime (28 years) writing stories, and thirteen years of writing fanfic in particular. It's ok if you don't see it or feel it right away. It takes practice. And you will have an audience at every skill level, no matter what (finding that audience? different story altogether...).

All totaled, this process can take anywhere from 3months to over a year. Stories are like children, I've found: they each develop at their own pace, and some may need more time and assistance than others. But they're still pretty wonderful. (except the bratty stories. they're the worst 🙄)

#thanks anon!#asks #writing asks #writing reference #i guess?#i hope it helps!!#fic writing

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szivtalan · 4 years ago

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character ask: kagami, momoi, alex and himuro 👀👀👀

!!! omg thank u Ceru! u might be one of my favorite mutuals <33 (putting this under a read more just so I can speak at lengths about each individual character)

Why I like Kagami: this is where I sarcastically ask “why DON’T i like him” but that’s literally the next question so; he’s everything i want to be and more. He has the determination and the willpower to make his own dreams come true, he’s gay as shit, he’s tall and buff and well-adjusted, mature enough to live on his own at an annoyingly young age, he’s funny and dumb and a total himbo as well as an excellent advisor bc of how grounded he is.

Why I don’t: I’m... not really good with explosive people. Violent men with loud voices especially scare me, and I’d think I’d flinch around him a lot and that would make me rlly anxious.

Favorite episode: it’s a toss-up between the Seirin fam visiting his place for the first time (is it where Kuroko confesses his love to him and then passes out in his arms? idk), and the onsen episode. I also loved all his plays against Kise and Aomine. AND the training camp w him running a lot in the sand.

Favorite season/movie: season 2 probably because he’s not a jerk anymore, but he’s still on his way to shed off any asshole behavior stuck to him. And I actually liked Last Game?

Favorite line: “There’s no such thing as useless effort.” and “This is our drama and we write the plot.” because he’s so ridiculous.

Favorite outfit: all of his casual fits... comfy but manly is my Jam

OTP: AoKaga....they’re truly soulmates, star-crossed lovers, canonically brought together by fate.

Brotp/otp no. 2: KagaKuro, I love them

Head Canon: I have several collections because I think too much about this boy, but here’s something I think about his family: he doesn’t know what happened to his mom. He never asked, because it wasn’t relevant, and he didn’t want to inconvenience his dad by questioning him. Occasionally, as a kid he felt like he was missing out on something (seeing other kids with their moms, feeling like they’re being treated with much more gentle care because they have moms), but as he grew older he realized that nurturing behavior shouldn’t have been limited to only a mother, and that he was just straight up neglected without any regards to missing a parent in his life.

Unpopular opinion: I never realized this was an unpopular opinion but I’m glad he went back to America at the end of Last Game. Obviously, it’s sad that he had to separate from the others, but I felt like Japanese basketball has always been just a stepping point to him, and now that he’d beat the best of them, it was time to move on. And it also warms my heart that him getting scouted in the US gave Aomine hope to aim big, too. I felt like both of them would’ve felt trapped in Japan with their skill sets.

A wish: I want him to be happy and gay and to confront Himuro and tell him how hurt he was by how he treated him and probably do the same to his dad too

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: ....whatever I’d say Shinsun has probably written it/will write it, but I don’t want him to forget about the GoM just because he becomes a world-famous athlete.

5 words to best describe them: sweet child with anger issues

My nickname for them: not mine (it’s Sypha’s) but “Kags”, Kagami, Tigerboy, Kagababe, Baby

Why I like Momoi: she is SO nurturing and sweet and she cares so much about her boys!! I’m sorry it always turns into “how they remind me of myself” but actually I get feeling like a background character and being the moral/emotional/physical support of those who are more talented or in any way better than you. I feel a strange kind of kinship with her and also,,, feminine girls make my heart stop, and it doesn’t get more feminine than Momoi. Added: Aomine aside, the Touou team wouldn’t worth shit without her skills tbh, and she’s not in any way less than the GoM. Also, I appreciate her being the one person to try to keep their friend group together.

Why I don’t: Analytical People Scare me like!! how do u know stuff people are Unknowable!! I usually am also irked by her pointing out Riko’s breast size but I can just pretend that’s in a gay way (maybe Momoi likes girls with small boobs and she’s just bad at flirting) (also I don’t exactly liked her calling Aomine a “ganguro” but I have too little knowledge on the use of this word to say exactly why)

Favorite episode (scene if movie): uh the one where Aomine made her cry? It really came through how much love she actually has for her friends at that one.

Favorite season/movie: she was great in all of them!!

Favorite line: I can’t remember the exact quote and Google isn’t really helpful either but the one where she made Kuroko promise they’ll always play together or something? Or that they’re gonna beat Aomine?? idk?

Favorite outfit: I like all of them but mostly I just appreciate her wearing so many hoodies, she looks so cute in them

OTP / Brotp: it’s both AoMomo. I feel like the have the most special and strongest bond in the entire series.

Head Canon: She’s never been shown to do, but I feel like she wears Aomine’s clothes a Lot. Also, they definitely have sleepovers To This Day.

Unpopular opinion: Momoi is good at basketball and she loves playing!!! But try being successful in it when ur opponents are Giants and Way More Buff than you are

A wish: I wish people appreciated her more!! Both in fandom and in canon. She’s an amazing person and she has her own skills and strengths that are rarely explored or even mentioned anywhere.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: her falling out with her boys ;-; I do not want that

5 words to best describe them: strawberry sweetheart to steal ur heart

My nickname for them: Satsuki :> I feel like it’s a little too much to call characters on their first names sometimes but hers is so cute I can’t

Why I like Alex: yet again another woman with an extensive skill set. I love her persistence and again I appreciate getting disillusioned and finding your way back to the thing you love. Also it’s just sweet that she did that by teaching (again, something I can relate to)

Why I don’t: the whole “kissing children” thing rubbed me the wrong way but again, just like Momoi’s obsession with comparing breast sizes, it’s just bad/sexist writing from Fujimaki probably

Favorite episode (scene if movie): adshg any and all where she expressed that Himuro and Kagami are equally important to her <33 that shit makes my heart burst

Favorite season/movie: she only appears towards the end of s2 and in s3 so... I guess s3?

Favorite line: its so Bad that u literally can’t find the iconic quotes of these iconic ladies anywhere but... her story on finding her passion again through teaching kids, and anytime she mentions her fondness of Kagami and Himuro.

Favorite outfit: her iconic olive green coat with the short red shorts... wtf was that I loved it.

OTP: she doesn’t really interact with people her age but I’ve heard she’s shipped with Masako Araki and I’ve seen some seriously good fanarts and like... Yes Good I’d Love To See It

Brotp: I feel like her and Himuro would be that sassy pair that Kagami tries and fails to contain and they get into all sorts of weird, absurd situations asdjs what I’m trying to say is Kagami has to bail them out of jail from time to time

Head Canon: fck me if I’m wrong but she’s the lesbian single mom of the two gay kids she reluctantly adopted from the streets

Unpopular opinion: it’s more like another headcanon, but she can dunk and she taught Kagami how to do it.

A wish: I’d love her to coach the Seirin fam more!! Pls let her be part of her children’s lives (she could also judge streetball games between the goms it would be fun)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: anything about her being romantically involved with her pupils makes me.................no

5 words to best describe them: Beautiful Beach Blonde Basketball....goddess

My nickname for them: Alex!! sometimes An Icon

Why I like Himuro: em dash Asdgsdj I’m joking, I’m becoming more and more fond of the boy. Once I realized that he shouldn’t have been the “bigger person” in that situation and one year doesn’t really mean much when you’re that young and that hurt, I realized he’s actually a good and hard-working kid and I’m sorry for giving him so much shade. Also I really like his snark and sass, but that might not even be canon at this point tbh

Why I don’t: I’m still sort of irked by him beating down on Kagami because he was envious/mad, but I realized the aspect of that situation that Really got to me was how devoted Kagami still was to him after all that. That devotion was what felt toxic, nothing that Himuro actually did to him.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): the time they met up w Kagami just to exchange a dramatic socially distancing bro fist and a few encouraging words.... gays be Like That

Favorite season/movie: I really didn’t mind s3 Himuro

Favorite line: apparently he’s said some iconic stuff that I don’t remember (and my sources don’t seem really legit) but I’m gonna say “let’s see you become number 1, bro” because again, that’s just so ridiculous and endearing. On one hand he really went from loathing Kagami to rooting for him and wanting him to reach his full potential and on the other, honey ur like 17 stop speaking like That

Favorite outfit: his knitted V-neck sweaters and the black coat with the white fur.... boy’s got all the fashion sense that’s missing from Kagami

OTP: can I say.....AoHimu asdfh I ship 3/4 of these characters with Aomine what does that say about me

Brotp: KagaHimu. They can be sweet, but I’ve only ever seen Jake write them really well

Head Canon: I’ve been entertaining the idea of....trans Himuro.....

Unpopular opinion: everyone thinks that Kagami is the violent kid and Himuro is the chill, sweet child who’s somehow wound up with this mess of a fiery tiger, but it’s actually Himuro who taught Kagami how to fight and Kagami learned quite a lot of aggression from him

A wish: I feel like Himuro should’ve gotten a separate episode to explore his thoughts, feelings and past. He had so much potential as a character Is2g

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: him quitting basketball would fucking destroy me. I’d be devastated for others too, but it would really pull on my heartstrings if he just dropped the only thing he’s been so passionate about.

5 words to best describe them: gender-non-conforming emo child

My nickname for them: Himu, Tatsuya, Tatsu

#ask and i shall answer #izukillme #himuro tatsuya #alex garcia #momoi satsuki #kagami taiga #this is long as fuck #also happy birthday himuro??!!!!!

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kn1feinthec0ffee · 4 years ago

Text

in too deep (part 5) - jules

jules x reader

TW: drugging

warnings: beating, homophobia, threat of death, i think that’s pretty much it??

notes: ooooohhh we’re getting closer to the end! not that i’m excited for this to end, but i’m just excited for you guys to see it

i really hope that me putting homophobia in this story doesn’t make you guys think i’m homophobic bc that’s the farthest thing from true. since i changed the gender of the mickey stand-in, i felt like it might be more interesting to add another dynamic into the story so it wasn’t just a word for word copy of the original except with a girl, bc that seems really one-dimensional to me. i feel like i need to put one of those things they have in movie credits like “the views in this film in no way reflect the views of the studio that produced it” kinda thing

also i think this may be my favorite part that i’ve written, bc if you didn’t notice, i’ve never left the reader’s perspective during the whole thing, so i had to improv a bit during the parts of the movie we didn’t get to see with mickey, and maybe i’m just a lil proud of myself :’)

******************************

for the first time since you came up with your brilliant plan to siphon the gas, you actually felt a glimmer of hope. jules was smart, she’d surely find a way out of the house; and she was damn loyal, too, so you knew there was no chance she’d leave you behind.

sadly all those hopes were dashed when you heard the basement door creak open again.

fuck, this whole plan was dependent on the fact that no one else came downstairs! your hands clammed up, your heart rate quickening as footsteps descended the stairs, stopping dead in their tracks once they reached the bottom.

“where the hell’d that little bitch go?” george roared, scanning every nook and cranny in the basement to see if jules was hiding anywhere. “answer me!”

you stayed silent, more out of fear than some sort of strategy. you quickly realized this was the wrong decision as george viciously backhanded you across the face. your head whipped to the side, eyes blinking back into focus from the impact. you felt something sticky on your lips and realized it was blood.

“you’re so angry,” you groaned. “why? just ‘cause you’re shooting blanks?” you pouted in mock sympathy. this sudden boost of confidence seemed to be a mistake as you saw george’s expression shift into a dangerously content one.

“i’m gonna rip your fuckin’ heart out.” your face dropped as he spoke. “i understand you not wantin’ to tell me where she is. in fact, if i were in your position i suppose i’d do the same. but god almighty i’m gonna watch ya’ die. i’m gonna hurt ya’.”

you were stunned into silence but you decided saying something, anything, would be better than nothing. “she’s gone, man. you just need to give it up.”

this seemed to strike a nerve in him. he turned towards you again and delivered another swift slap, knocking the wind out of you. he smacked you again, the back of your head knocking into the pole and causing your consciousness to fade for a moment.

“you think i’m full of hot air, don’t you? only good on roughin’ you up?” he asked rhetorically. “you know i worked as a door-to-door salesman for a few years? learned a lot, but the most important thing i learned was how to read people. and at the end of the day, you’re just an open book, sweetheart.”

the name sounded like poison dripping from his lips. it made you sick, that name belonged to jules.

“i know your type, believe you me, i’ve seen quite a few in my time. you see, you like to think you’re tough, strong, resilient, but at the end of the day, you just value her life above yours.” he laughed to himself. “am i right?”

he chuckled again when you didn’t answer. “that’s alright, you don’t have to answer, i know i’m right. well, you people are more loyal than i thought. guess i gotta give credit where credit’s due.”

“fuck you.” you spat. “don’t fucking talk about her like that.” he stood up again, this time grabbing something from a shelf before making his way back to you.

“alright, no more pussyfootin’ around, time to get down to business.” he revealed the knife, positioning it under your ear as he prepared to slice it off.

“sheisn’tgoingtothecops!” you breathed out quickly, hoping he’d let you keep both ears with the statement.

“what? what’d you say?” he seemed caught of guard by the sudden admission, backing off of you.

“not yet, anyway.” you took a moment to catch your breath. “i told her to wait. yeah, we got a little meet up spot. now if i don’t show up there in an hour or so, then yeah, cops galore. you’re fucked, buddy. but, if i do show up, we just continue on our way like none of this happened.”

you took another shaky breath before you continued. “if we’re being honest here, i don’t want the cops involved any more than you do. y’know, the whole ‘not gainfully employed’ thing? the cops aren’t a huge fan of that one.”

george seemed to take this into consideration, nodding quietly to himself. “what about sweetiepie?”

“her? i don’t give a fuck about her, she’s the whole reason i’m in this mess.” you winked at her, hoping she’d understand the message.

george snapped the blade shut, producing the key from to the cuffs from his jacket pocket.

------------------------------

“any last words for this son of a bitch?” george asked gloria as he trained the pistol on you.

“oh, i do wish you’d handled things differently. we could’ve had somethin’ beautiful here.” she smiled sadly, mourning what could’ve been.

“i’ll see you in hell,” george mumbled as he opened the door for you. you stepped into the doorway, only to stop dead in your tracks when you heard your girlfriend’s voice. shit.

“stop, don’t kill her!” jules shouted from the top of the steps, baby doll in hand. “i will smash it!” she held it over the railing, dangling precariously above the hardwood flooring beneath.

“whew, that was close.” george laughed, closing the door behind you. “unhand my baby!” gloria whined.

“alright, missy, calm down. no one’s gonna get hurt.” he kept the gun aimed at your head, but gloria quickly pried it out of his hands and took a shot at jules. she crouched to shield herself from the bullet that thankfully missed, but in doing so let go of the baby that plummeted to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces.

“get your ass down here or i’ll blow her brains out!” george shouted gruffly as jules descended the staircase. she ran to you, hugging you close and helping you to stand on your injured leg.

gloria rushed out of the room, bloody pieces of ceramic in hand as george turned back to you. “look what you gone and did. what did i do to deserve you two?”

------------------------------

“cooking’s a zen art for my dear gloria. i’ve found there’s a method to it: the more upset she is, the bigger the dish it takes to pull her out.” george explained. “needless to say, i think the two of you just summoned up a banquet.”

the two of you had been crudely duct-taped to some chairs in the dining room, forced to listen to the stuffy dialogue between the husband and wife. “why? why do you keep her down there?” jules asked.

“it’s not what you think.” he looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t listening. “my gloria, she’s always wanted a child. unfortunately, the good lord did not have that in his plans for us. so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”

“oh, so you kidnapped her.” jules stated bluntly. george glared at her, but continued his explanation.

“as you get older, things get... complicated, and i swear to god i had no ill intentions. i just wanted to make my wife happy.” he smiled. “and she was for a bit, until she started to remind her of what she couldn’t have. she asked me to make her go away, but i couldn’t bring myself do that, so the basement is our compromise.”

“dinner is served!” gloria announced, wheeling in a cart full of dishes of shepherd’s pie. she placed one on everyone’s plate before she sat down. they quickly said grace before digging into their food.

“so are you guys gonna kill us or...? what’s the deal?” jules asked matter-of-factly. you wanted to nudge her shoulder and ask her what in the hell made her so bold, but you didn’t want to cause a scene.

“george, you didn’t tell them?” gloria asked confusedly. “i wanted to make ‘em squirm a bit,” he smirked.

“t-tell us what?” you cursed yourself for stuttering but you couldn’t help it, it came out when you were anxious.

“we’re not gonna kill you.” george mumbled, almost sounding disappointed. “i said we’re not gonna kill ‘ya, what are you deaf?” you stifled a grin at jules, not wanting to change their decision to set you free. “we’ve decided that, despite your piss-poor behavior, the logistics of it just don’t make no sense for us.”

“sooner or later someone’s gonna come lookin’ for you two. now, i can hide a body like the easter bunny hides an egg, but the two of you have been sweatin’, spittin’, and pissin’ all over this place.” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “anywho, i’m bound to miss a spot. i figure we have a better chance of hitting the road. we’ll give it 48 hours, tip off the police, they’ll come by and pick ya’ up. i reckon you’ll do some time for whatever the hell you two did, but at least you’ll still be drawing breath. so congratulations, you should be thankful. you just won the damn lottery.”

jules spared a glance at you as if to say, what now? “take your time eatin’ you got another couple days in those chairs.” george muttered as he took another bite of his meal.

screw it, you thought. we’re hungry and going to jail in the next two days, what harm could a nice meal do? you both picked up your forks and knives and tucked in to the plate in front of you. you nearly let out a moan in satisfaction as the food hit your tongue. you scooped up more greedily as you had no clue if and when the next time you’d get fed would be.

“wait,” jules swallowed the food in her mouth. “what’s gonna happen to her?” gloria glanced over to george, waiting for the answer to the question as well.

“well, i’m sure they’ll put her some place nice. these orphanages, i hear they’re like five-star resorts.” george answered.

“does that upset you?” gloria turned to jules, a smile of mock empathy on her face. “anything’s better than down there.” jules mumbled.

“you got a heart of gold, jules. is your full name julia?” jules nodded in response. “my mother’s name was julia. she had a good heart, too, you remind me of her.”

“she died of cancer when i was real little. it was a slow, painful process, but i was with her every step of the way!” she grinned as her husband blew her a kiss. “the day before she died, she told me to look in the closet, that i’d find a special surprise for me in there. it was a package, wrapped up nice and pretty, with a tiny card with my name on it. she insisted i opened it, so i wiped away my tears, tore open the paper and there it was. a doll.”

everything stilled. every sound, the scraping of cutlery on the plate, the sound of everyone breathing, even the breeze blowing through the window decided this was a nice time to take a break.

“she said it was a magic doll,” she continued. “that no matter how sad i became, and believe me, i became very sad, i’d always have him with me. my ethan.”

your gut instincts finally kicked in as you spat out the food that was in your mouth, the gross pile of chewed up beef and potatoes looking oddly blurry to you. jules looked equally as mortified, probably even more since she was the one who brought about the end of the magic doll.

“and she was right; he was magical. and you took him away from me.” she grinned her creepy stepford wife grin once more. jules mumbled something but everything sounded miles away from you as your head swam.

“wha-what is this?” you slurred, the bright colors of the table morphing into one another.

“this is a drug overdose, y/n.” he chuckled when you sluggishly turned your head towards him. “i know, i know, i fibbed about lettin’ you live, but see, you had a veritable pharmacy in that bag of yours. you two just munched down enough pills to put a bull to bed,” his voice muffled into indiscernible nonsense, though you knew he was still speaking.

“f-fuck you,” jules managed, still keeping her head up. you, on the other hand, were slumped over, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

george got up from his seat, pulling your head up by your hair. “not so tough now, are ya’?” he jested.

jules muttered something in your defense, but as soon as your head dropped, you were down for the count; just missing the hopeful ring of the doorbell, possibly signaling you might live to see another day.

******************************

i should probably put a link to previous parts at the top but i have no clue how to do that lol

tags: @emmyrosee @flowers-in-your-hayr @willyourecognisemee @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass

#jules #jules x reader #jules oneshot #jules imagine #jules fanfiction #jules fanfic #jules fic #jules villains #villains #villains 2019 #maika monroe #maika monroe character #my writing

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critical-derolo · 6 years ago

Text

critical drabbles 6

"I can't wait to be in love!"

Marion hums in her melodic, interested way as she weaves pink ribbons in her daughter's hair. It's been a long day and an even longer week but she'd bear the burden of working a thousand hours if it meant spending one minute with Jester. Her Little Sapphire. "Is that so?"

Jester bounces in the seat, forcing Marion to dodge an errant horn, and brightens. "Yes! I am going to fall in love with the most handsome, dashing, bravest man there ever was! Like one of my stories."

"That's certainly exciting." Marion flicks one of the braids to the side and begins working on the next. "He must be pretty special if he's worthy of your love, my darling."

The little tiefling considers this and nods, her brows tugging together as she taps her chin. "Oh, he's really, really special. He's strong, and smart, and kind, and funny, and good!"

"I can't wait to meet him, Jester."

Neither can I, Jester thinks. Her heart aches, a little voice in the back of her head wondering how she will ever meet him when she's cooped up in her room all day. Every day. How she will ever find the love that fills her books when books are all she has.

He's strong.

Strength is a funny thing, Jester finds. She's strong, and Yasha is strong, and the Gnolls are strong. Giants are strong. Bandits can be strong. Manticores are strong. But when they're hit, they go down. And when they go down, they stay down.

Not her and Yasha. At least, not for very long. Not until Beau is skidding through the dirt, one hand clutching a healing potion and the other holding the nasty wound on her side. She pours the potion down Jester's throat, holding her close as the tiefling coughs and sputters. As magic stitches torn tissue back together and consciousness comes crashing in like a chilly ocean wave.

Dizzy purple eyes roam the sky, locking onto the familiar face of her party's monk staring down at her with no small amount of relief. Sweat gathered across her dark skin with dirt and grime, her lip split and smile bloody. "Up and at 'em," she grunts and pushes up from her knees, standing on unsteady feet. "We're not done yet."

Jester says - well, nothing. Her throat is dry, the gashes across her chest still healing, magic gathering at her fingertips. She reaches for Beau's side, where her vestments are stained a painful red...

But she's gone again, scooping up her staff and kicking off Yasha's knee, bringing it down across the monster's face. Always moving. Always fighting. Never stopping and never giving in.

Jester is strong, she could punch a man through a wall, and Yasha could snap an eldritch horror in half...

But Beau's strength is different, it's not something that can be touched. It doesn't come from muscle or a fist, it's in the set of her jaw, the steel of her eyes.

Beau is strong.

He's smart.

Schemes are fun and Jester has always had a special talent when it comes to them. Tricky and detailed, or simply flashy and surface, she's managed to pull most off brilliantly. And when Jester met Nott, it was like meeting her other half. Nott is clever.

Clever and smart are two different things but these things can go hand-in-hand beautifully. They're aspects that Jester looks for in most people she meets, they might even be the most important. At least the hooks, the things that sink in and capture her attention, that have her digging for more.

"Beauregard."

The lantern above the table sways in time with the rocking of the boat, wood creaking precariously around them. Jester cracks an eye open from her dark corner of the room, glancing at the table by the door where her friends sit while the others try to sleep.

Caleb leans over the table, elbows propped up in the corners to hold his red, fuzzy chin. His eyes stare hard at the makeshift chess board that Yasha had spent almost a week carving out for the crew. Frumpkin flops onto his side on the table, batting at a fallen pawn. Across from the human, Beau lounges back in her own seat with her legs hooked off the corner of the table. She flips the page of Avantika's journal, twirling a pencil in her fingers while she hums distractedly.

Jester eyes the way shadows creep across Beau's face, how the light of the lantern catches the blue of her eyes like astonishingly clear crystals against her dark skin. Her heart thuds awkwardly in her chest.

"Beauregard," Caleb says quietly again. Intently. He looks up from the pieces to meet her curious gaze. "How. You've got my queen. Beauregard, you didn't even know what the rook was called. How did you capture my queen?!"

A brown shoulder lifts and falls with disinterest. "I don't know, man. Monks love this game and I love fucking with monks, so I memorized all their tactics. You're doing the Pit Fall Trap and a Switchy Switch beats that."

"What?"

Beau grins and closes the journal, sets it on the table to lean forward into the light. "You went here and then there on your first moves, and you keep eyeing this nipple looking piece here. I knew you were gonna do the Pit Fall Trap."

His lips twitch. Caleb runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat. "You've memorized chess moves? You don't know what day of the week it is but you've memorized complex chess tactics to... to spite the other monks?"

"Yup."

"You're never what I think you are, Beauregard. I think I'm off to bed. Congratulations."

He stands and hesitates awkwardly before patting her shoulder, dragging his feet to one of the bunks across from Jester. Frumpkin follows moments later, curling up on the edge.

Exhaustion creeps up after a while, it has Jester's eyes drooping, and Beau's profile getting fuzzier and fuzzier. The creaking of the wood and the flipping of journal pages eventually lull Jester back to sleep, but she has one final thought before the dreams consume her.

Beau is clever.

He's kind.

It's a surreal experience, seeing Beau so open and honest. She would pick a storm as the setting to come find Jester, to lay bare a vulnerability in an effort to comfort Jester. And the tiefling is touched, watching Beau fidget and glance off to the choppy waters. Telling her about a lonely childhood, reassuring Jester against her worries.

Worries that have been plaguing her since she, Fjord, and Yasha were tossed in the cages in the back of the Iron Shepards' wagon.

When those blue eyes meet hers again, gentle and compassionate, a sincere smile on her lips before she departs...

Jester staggers forward to throw her arms around the monk, to squeeze her tightly and feel the beat of her own heart echoing in time with pesky thoughts. Thoughts that have no place here and now, thoughts that will remain buried until they're off the water, at least.

She's so distracted by the pulse she can feel in her fingertips that when she tells Beau she loves her, she almost misses the reciprocation. Almost.

But Beau's rough voice rattles around in her chest long after she's gone below deck, and the warmth of their conversation is a protective layer against the cold barrage of the storm around her.

Beau... Beau is kind.

He's funny.

It's more sweet than funny but it's also pretty funny, and Jester's face hurts from smiling so much. She burns the image in her mind to draw later, her fingers twitching for her pencils, and she hates that there's no time to just sit down and sketch.

She doen't want to miss a single detail, and she's never been so thankful that Beau has no magical means of disguise.

Magic would have stolen this moment from her.

Caduceus and Beau distract the guards with an animated tale. Despite not having the silver tongue that Fjord does, they do pretty well. Beau holds the belt of her pants high up enough to cover her chest, leaning forward to scowl at the friendly guards with one eye squinted nearly closed. The overly large moustache on her lip twitches, tipping Cad's enormous sunhat down in what, maybe, could have been considered intimidating if it didn't look so ridiculous.

Eventually, the guards do move on. A fist is shook at them and they seem more concerned with distancing themselves from the crazy wackadoo than wondering just what the two of them are doing lingering around the edge of the city.

The second the guards turn the corner of the wall, Jester, Fjord, and Nott drop from their perch with bags full of supplies. Something crunches and Jester freezes, praying to the Traveler that she didn't crush her own bag. They could probably make due with just Fjord and Nott's but it's always better to have too much than too little.

Beau sucks on her teeth, jerking her chin up with a charming smirk, and offers a hand. "'Scuse me, little miss," she murmurs in her best impression of Fjord's accent. Jester snorts. "Seems you might need a hand."

"Oh, why, thank you!" Jester gasps and grabs hold. She giggles, hoisted to her feet, and presses a hand to her chest when Beau swings the bag over her own shoulder. "You look so silly!"

"Are you sure you don't mean dashing?"

Delight has her tail swishing. "Of course, excuse me. Dashing and roguish."

"Even more than Nott?"

"Well, Nott is a pretty excellent rogue..." Jester says with a considering hum. "Distinguished?"

"I'll take it," Beau agrees with a grin. She hooks her arm with Jester's and the two follow the others through the trees like some sort of clichè moustachio's bandit. All she needs is a mask. Every once in a while, Jester is caught staring, and a wink is flashed at her.

He's good.

Beau had volunteered to take the last watch. She usually does and most everyone is more than willing to let her take it - last watch is the worst. Alone, watching the sun rise, knowing you won't get to sleep afterwards because the day has begun but it also began for you four hours ago.

Whoever takes last watch often has the longest day and sometimes long days suck.

But Beau always offers.

The sky is a dark blue but no longer black when Jester stirs, her eyes falling open. Stars are still sprinkled above her but their light is fading as the horizon gets brighter. She turns her head, looking around the bubble and swallows her heart when she can't find Beau.

She doesn't even think to wake the others - already stumbling out of the bubble, dirt and grass against her knees and palms and - oh. Okay. Thank the Traveler.

Beau sits a little ways away in the field. Her back is straight, in a way that seems almost painful to Jester, with her legs crosses in what maybe she called some kind of lotus once when Yasha had asked.

Everyone knows that Beau is a monk, they see the blue and they see her fight and she mentions it to outsiders sometimes - she uses it to get information or access when all else fails. She even looks like a monk, sometimes, usually, maybe, or maybe they're just aware she is. Maybe perception is a tricky thing. But Jester's never been struck with it.

Not like now.

The blue of her vestments glitter in what little light cracks across the sky, the flowing script of her sash so official. Her staff is impaled into the ground within reach, a strip of purple woven at the end - a little piece of Molly in each of her strikes. The ribbons of her hand wraps, of the tie that holds her hair back in a bun, they flit and dance with the gentle breeze of the morning air.

It's just Beau but she feels... different, like this. She feels more like A Monk Of The Cobalt Soul and less like the hothead who punches ghosts and drags Caleb off the battleground to gather himself.

"How long are you going to stand there watching me?" she asks gently.

Jester blinks and smiles but doesn't approach. She knows how hard it is for Beau to meditate and she's not totally sure if that's what Beau is doing but she doesn't want to ruin it on the off chance. "Why did you come with us?" she blurts instead.

It wasn't a question she was ever going to ask. It's one she wonders a lot, usually in moments like these. When Beau is Beau but also Beauregard, when Jester catches glimpses of a vastly different life meant for the monk.

"You asked me to."

Which... well, it's true. Fjord and Jester had been stumbling through a city neither had ever been to, lost and overwhelmed and not totally trusting each other yet. Jester has always been an optimist and sometimes a little naive- she's aware of herself, how could she not be? But she's not blind, not ignorant to the dangers of a girl travelling alone with a strange man who has even stranger and probably darker magic when she thinks about it.

When she met Beau there was a snap - like a rubber band in her chest that flung out and wrapped around this angry, violent girl. An angry, violent girl with gentle eyes that didn't think twice when a perfect stranger, a tiefling -momma warned her about the looks, the whispers, the prejudice- asked her to help them find a snake. And then asked her to follow them to the next city. And then asked her to stay, and has been asking her every day since then with silent looks and lingering smiles.

"What about the Cobalt Soul?" she wonders and inches forward, still not intruding - she hopes.

The corner of Beau's mouth curves up, maybe a smirk or maybe a smile. "What about them?"

"Don't you wanna go back?"

"Do you want me to?"

Helpful. Jester groans. "Beau, it's very impolite to answer a question with a question!"

"A thousand pardons." The words are dripping with sarcasm and finally, she opens her eyes, turning to look at Jester over her shoulder. "I'm where I want to be, Jessie. Don't worry."

"But why? Why did you say yes?" It makes sense now, she's part of the group now, engrained so thoroughly within their family like all the others. They've made money and memories, shared laughter and heartbreak, they've done great things and are on the path to do even greater.

But in the beginning, it was a boy and a girl with nothing to offer, nothing to earn, nothing to gain.

Sunlight spills over the horizon and bathes Beau's brown skin in warmth. She shrugs simply, unfolding her legs and stands up to stretch. "You needed help. Why wouldn't I say yes?'

It's not too long later when Jester lingers at the edge of the party. That she watches her friends, her family start to gather their things up and get ready for the day.

"Momma," she says with a twist of her fingers through the air, powers of the arcane sending her words hundred of miles across the land. All the way to the coast.

Beau drops down on the log between Yasha and Fjord, leaning forward to offer Caduceus some of the fruit from her plate.

"I think I'm in love."

#critical drabbles #critical role #jestergard #beaujester #the mighty nein

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readyourimgaines · 5 years ago

Text

The One Where Chandler and Joey Come Out

Reposting because I accidently deleted it when pressing the wrong button and also because I’m petty want to make it show up on an idiot’s dash again. -Freddie

“No.”

“Chan, come on. It’s been almost four months, we should tell them sooner than later,” Joey tried to persuade his boyfriend.

“No. No. No. Joey, I love you, but I can’t tell. Not yet.”

“And why not, huh?” Joey tossed the spoon in his into the empty tomato sauce can.

“I can admit to you that I’m like my dad. I can do that. But telling everyone else that I’m like him-” Chandler’s face lost all colour when what he said sunk in. “I-I’m not ashamed of being with you, I promise.”

“I knew what you meant,” Joey dismissed. “Look, I’m still trying to get used to this ‘bisexual’ idea, alright? It’s weird. I didn’t know you could like both but here I am.” Joey added a little bit of salt to the noodles he had on the stove. “I just feel like we should tell the guys. They tell us everything.”

Chandler sighed from where he sat on the other side of the kitchen and burrowed his hands in his hair. “We have to do this, don’t we?”

“They’d appreciate it.” Joey nodded.

Chandler didn’t move for a little bit, his mind racing with what their reactions might be. Ross bordered on homophobic because of Carol and Susan. Monica, personally, wouldn't mind and he knew that if Ross stopped hanging out with Joey and him then so would Monica and there goes Rachel. The only one that he thought wouldn’t care at all- even support them- was Phoebe.

Chandler was pulled from his racing thoughts by Joey gently kissing his lips. “You okay in there?” Joey asked, tilting his head slightly.

“That’s yet to be decided.” Chandler sighed again and leaned forward slightly so their foreheads touched, his blue-green eyes looking into Joey’s chocolate ones. “You really think we should tell them?”

“I really think we should tell ‘em.”

“Then we’ll tell them.”

***

“Anything planned for tonight?” Rachel asked the group.

“Not really.” “My date cancelled.” “No.” Came the scattered answers of Ross, Monica, and Phoebe.

“Well, we’ve gotta do something; I don’t work tonight.”

Chandler and Joey looked at each other and Joey nodded. Chandler adjusted how he was sitting on the armrest of the chair Joey occupied and tightly held his boyfriend’s hand behind his back. “Uh-” he cleared his throat, “Joey and I got something we can do.”

“Yeah?” Phoebe asked with a slowly growing smile, getting a feeling for what was about to happen. “What’s that?”

“There’s something we should tell you guys and we’ve been tossing the idea around for a couple days, actually.”

“Oh god, one of you is moving!” Phoebe clasped her hands over her mouth in mock shock. She wasn’t as dumb as they all thought and she’d known about the two since before they themselves did.

“No, no, we ain’t moving.” Joey dismissed.

“So, you guys know how everyone thinks I’m gay because I have that certain ‘quality’ to me?” Chandler asked. He got a scattered and murmured answer of yes. “Well, I don’t know about the ‘quality’ but they’re not wrong on the gay part.” He cast his eyes down, scared of their reactions.

“Wait, so you’re really gay?” Rachel asked.

“Well he’d have to be to do half the stuff we’ve done,” Joey spoke up.

The group stared at them in shock. “You’re both gay?” Ross asked. Chandler stiffened, preparing himself.

“I am...Joey’s bi.”

“What?”

“Bi, ya know?” Joey went on. “Bisexual. I’m into girls and guys?”

“So you two are going out?” Monica asked, still processing.

“Yeah…” Chandler was still waiting for someone to blow up- mainly Ross- and compare him to his father.

“That’s awesome!” Phoebe clapped. “How long have you two been together?”

“Almost four months,” Chandler said slowly.

“Wait.” “Why didn’t you tell us?” Monica and Rachel spoke together.

“Well, we didn’t know how you were guys were going to react,” Joey said. “We’ve been debating tellin’ you guys since our one month but we were sorta on edge.”

“Why?” Monica asked. “It’s just us.”

“Yeah, but two dudes together ain’t exactly the norm,” Joey went on.

“You know we weren’t going to be upset.” Monica smiled kindly, putting a hand on each of their knees to bring them some sort of comfort. “In fact, I’m going to make Chandler’s favorite dinner and Joey’s favorite dessert to celebrate.”

Ross had yet to say anything and was still staring at the floor. Chandler was starting to get antsy at his friend’s silence and Joey noticed. “Chan?” he whispered under Rachel, Monica, and Phoebe’s excited chatter. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to judge that.” Chandler spoke. He was waiting for Ross to do something. “Damn I could use a smoke right now.”

“No, no. Ya don’t need a smoke.” Joey gently ran his hand through Chandler’s hair and smiled lightly when his boyfriend tilted his head into the touch. “Wanna take a walk? Go around a block or two so you can get some air?”

Chandler considered. “That sounds nice. We can pick up something for dinner so it’s useful.”

“We can do that. Sure.” Joey turned a bit on looked into the kitchen where Monica was already working on the lasagna. “Hey Mon?”

“What’s up?”

“Do you need anything from the store? Chandler and me can go get it.”

“Uh...I’m working on the sauce right now...uh… Oh! I don’t have cottage cheese. You sure you guys are okay getting it?”

“Yeah. We’re big boys now, Mon,” Chandler piped up with his usual defensive humor.

“Alright, well thank you.”

“Not a problem.” Joey smiled as he and Chandler stood up from their chair. “We’ll be back in fif-” Chandler shook his head a little and mouthed twenty. -”twenty minutes.”

“See you guys.” “Bye.” Came the voices of Phoebe and Rachel. The boys waved over their shoulders as they walked out the door holding hands. Chandler closed the door behind him and the second the door was closed Rachel whacked the back of Ross’s head.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Why haven’t you said anything? You’re scaring the hell out of Chandler.” Rachel folded her arms across her chest as she looked at the black haired doctor.

“Well I’m sorry if I’m a little uneasy with two of my best friends coming out as gay right after my ex-wife gets married to her lesbian lover,” Ross retorted.

“Well you should be.” Phoebe agreed with Rachel. “It took a lot of courage for them to tell us and then you go and act like this. They’re trusting us with a very important part of themselves.”

“Yeah. Besides, I think it’s sweet. I mean, how did we never notice it before?” Monica asked from where she was stirring a pot of tomato sauce on the stove. “They’re always hanging off each other or touching each other in some way.”

“Joey kissed Chandler on New Years two years in a row,” Phoebe added.

“Chandler blowing through girlfriends like a little kid with bubbles.” Rachel added. “He even stopped trying to correct us when we teased him about the whole quality thing.”

“You guys have never heard them doing anything?” Ross asked.

“No.” Monica said simply. “I just- they’re two of our closest friends. How could we have missed this?”

“Well, it’s not exactly in the norm yet.” Phoebe said. “Girls can be all cuddly with each other; you and Ross get cuddly; I just thought they were being friends.”

***

“He hates me.” Chandler said as he walked side by side with Joey still holding hands. “We never should have said anything.”

“Hey, hey. He doesn’t hate you, he’s just Ross. He’ll come around,” Joey promised. “Don’t worry so much, Chan.”

“I-I- we shouldn’t have said anything a month after his ex-wife gets married to a woman. We the hell were thinking?” Chandler ran his free hand through his hair.

“Remember what Ross told Carol when she an’ Susan almost called off their wedding? We didn’t tell ‘em for them. We told ‘em for us. We’re gonna be happy together whether or not Ross is happy for us, m’kay? And hey, I hate to say it- actually, I don’t. If Ross stops hangin’ out with us because we’re together then he’s not who I thought he was and I think we’d be better off without ‘im.” Joey finished his rant and brought their hands to his mouth, kissing their intertwined knuckles. “I love you, Chandler. And I ain’t gonna stop lovin’ you for anyone.”

“I love you too, Joey.” Chandler pecked his cheek.

***

“We’re back.” Chandler announced as he opened the door, feeling much better about things than he was before.

“Hey uh, guys...” Ross stood from where he was sitting at the kitchen table and tried to quickly word things in his mind before speaking them aloud. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier. I just...I wasn’t expecting this and I shouldn’t have been so aloof with it. I want you guys to know that I don’t care that you guys are- I mean- I uh, I do care. I just- I’m not upset that you two are together. I promise. I just have to get used the fact that Carol and Susan aren’t the only gay people in the world and that anyone can be gay.”

Chandler was beaming by the time Ross stopped talking. He gave Ross a tight hug and Ross wasted no time in returning it. “It means a lot to hear that. I know we could have picked a better time, with Carol and Susan getting married and all-”

“No, no. This is on me, not on you guys. Rach had a good point. I shouldn’t be supporting my ex-wife but leaving my friends out to hang. She’s right and I was right when I told Carol that what other people think of your relationship doesn't matter. You aren’t together for them, you’re together for each other.”

“Anyway,” Phoebe jumped in, “how did you know you were gay?”

“I uh...I was in denial for a long time,” Chandler said. “I guess I’ve known since high school, I just didn’t want to admit it…”

“Remember two years ago when I kissed Chandler on New Years?” Joey got a chorus of conformations. “Yeah. Since then.”

“So… does the sex feel different?” Ross asked slowly.

“Depends on the act, I guess…” Chandler shrugged.

“Like, if ya goin’ in, it ain’t too different,” Joey started. Chandler was already red faced and hiding his face against Joey’s shoulder blade. “But the hand stuff is waaay better ‘cause ya both actually know what you’re doin’.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Phoebe nodded.

“Can we please discuss anything el-”

“So who’s on top? How does that work?” Rachel asked. “‘Cause Chandler’s taller than you, but your personality is more commanding.”

Chandler figured if his face got any more red it melt. “We just go for it.” He muttered.

“We flipped a coin once.” Joey reminded him.

“Have you guys told your families?” Monica asked trying to save Chandler from becoming any more embarrassed.

“My family knows an’ they don’t mind too much.” Joey nodded.

“I haven’t said anything yet,” Chandler said. He traded hiding his face behind Joey to hugging the slightly shorter man from behind. “I don’t really plan to… I mean, if my mom finds out she does but I don’t plan on telling her.”

“But so we’re all good ‘ere?” Joey checked.

“All good.” Phoebe answered for the group.

#read your imagines #snafu and freddie's imagine shoppe #friends #chandler bing #joey tribiani #chanoey

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statusquoergo · 5 years ago

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Hii. Bit of a different question here but do you have any tips on how to sound more intelligent in your writing. You always sound so well versed and concise, plus your writing is so elegant i was just wondering if you had any advice on that :)

Oh! Thank you so much, I’m so honored you think highly enough of my writing to ask my advice! Actually, come to think of it, this is the first time anyone’s ever asked me for writing advice… Well, I shall try my best. These are not hard and fast rules by any means, and I’m not saying this will definitely work for everyone all the time, but I’ll try to share some tips that help me with what I think you’re talking about.

Don’t use big words just because they’re big. Highly specific words are great! Even if they’re unusual and people might not have heard them before! But don’t feel like you have to use them to seem impressive. Sometimes a more precise description with smaller or simpler words is equally effective, or even more so, especially if the larger meaning of the sentence will be completely lost on someone who doesn’t know the word offhand. Plus that way, when you do throw in a bit of pretentious vocabulary every now and again, it stands out more and has more artistry to it.

Be judicious with your punctuation. Commas are wonderful, but they’re also incredibly easy to overuse. (Or under use, although I think that happens less often.) Em dashes don’t just break up sentences; they inject pauses into the narrative and make readers stop short. An ellipsis isn’t just a lull in conversation; it indicates that a character is trailing off and introduces a sense of uncertainty or distraction. Semicolons are nice, but sometimes it’s just better to break a sentence up into two.

Use details to your advantage. If your characters are going for a walk in the park, I don’t want to spend time reading an exhaustive description of every single tree they walk past—most of your readers have probably been to or seen a park before, they can imagine the general concept for themselves—but maybe one of them notices that the vendors in Central Park are selling jalapeño pretzels for three dollars apiece. That’s an incredibly specific thing to zero in on; depending on the context, just a small piece of information like that can tell you a lot about the character’s headspace. A few carefully selected details in the midst of a not particularly specific setting can go a long way toward drawing readers into a scene and putting their focus where you want it to establish the right ambiance, and you don’t have to waste a ton of time cross-hatching the whole entire landscape.

Don’t be afraid to break the rules! Don’t get me wrong, the rules are great to start out (whatever rules you were taught about how to write, I won’t presume we were taught the same; anyway the only one I can remember right now is “The word ‘very’ is a bad and lazy word and you should never use it,” which, fuck that), but there may come a point in time at which you start thinking something like, “Hey, I know I’m supposed to write this way, but what would happen if I did something that wasn’t that?” Do it. Absolutely do it. It might not work, but give it a shot. Writing is an endlessly adaptable medium and you can do whatever the hell you want with it.

Spend time inside your characters’ heads. I don’t just mean the omniscient narrator, I mean really delve into what your characters are thinking and feeling. I do this with a weird mix of first, second, and third person narration (like I said, don’t be afraid to break the rules), but you can do it whatever way works best for you; the important thing is to convey the depth of your characters’ emotions, what they’re feeling and why (maybe they don’t even know) and what it’s making them think and any other details that might help your readers identify with them. This ties back to what I said before about details; try to pinpoint an image or sensation that best encapsulates what the character is thinking or feeling right at the moment you’re describing and use that detail to convey the overall sensation.

Now I hesitate to say this, because I know this is everyone’s advice, but seriously, read. Read so much. Not that every book or story is going to be equally helpful in developing the style you want, of course; there are so many styles out there, and so many preferences, but if you can find a couple of authors whose styles you really like, read as much of their work as you can to put you in the headspace you want to write in. I personally like the surrealism of Haruki Murakami’s writing, but find whatever works for you! Oh, also music, and poetry, and sometimes film. Basically any art can be good inspiration. (Or not art; I wrote a scene the other day based on looking out the window.) And don’t be afraid of mimicry; as long as you’re not copying right out of the book, you’ll be fine, and with enough practice, your style will eventually become its own thing anyway.

Speaking of which, write. Write a lot. Quite sincerely, I got to where I am with a combination of reading authors whose styles I admire and writing my own stuff until I got to the point that I was able to write in the style I wanted without needing to go back to those reference materials all the time. You don’t have to write every single day, I’m not trying to guilt you or anything; sometimes you’re just not feeling it, and that’s okay. Really. It’s fine. But at the same time, don’t let your frustration hold you back because you will not get better if you do not practice. Also please edit your stuff. I write first drafts that I think I’m pretty happy with, and then I go back and edit them the next day and they end up absolutely covered with notes. Notes that help me refine my style! And make it more concise! But so many notes.

So, maybe some of this is a little bit helpful, I hope? I’m sorry I don’t really have any magic tricks to offer; adapting to a specific style takes time, and it’s hard, but if you keep at it, it’ll eventually become second nature. Please feel free to ask any more questions, if you have them!

#writing #fanfiction #Anonymous

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razorblade180 · 6 years ago

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Synergy: RoseGarden!

Ozpin:(Believe me when I tell you I’ve had my fair share or crazy ideas but you Oscar...)

Oscar:*fighting an Alpha Beowulf*

Ozpin:(You’re surpassing all of them with this reckless stunt; retreat!)

Oscar:No! *dodges slash* everyone here is taking down way more tougher grimm. If can’t handle this then how can I be strong?

Ozpin:(I know it’s frustrating feeling like the weak link but trust me you’ll get stronger with time with help. Picking fight with apex grimm won’t solve anything you have to~ look out!!!!)

Alpha:*sends him flying into a tree*

Oscar:*staggering* Let...me do this!

Alpha:*Bolting towards him*

Ozpin:(Another hit like that and kiss your dream of strength goodbye.)

Oscar:*raises cane* then it’s all or nothing. *swings down*

Alpha:*grabs the cane and opens mouth*

Ozpin:(Oscar....!)

Ruby:Watch out!!!! *grabs Oscar and dashes 10 feet away*

Oscar:Ruby?

Ruby:What the heck were you thinking!?You were almost a Beowulf’s lunch! Do you have any idea how close that was?

Oscar:I...*puts head down*I just wanted to prove to you guys I could do this.

Ruby:Oscar, you’re doing fine. There’s no need to rush,

Oscar:Yeah but-

Ruby:But nothing! Stop carrying the weight of the whole world with you. That goes for both of you.

Ozpin and Oscar:.....

Ruby:You know you got a lot of heart. *points scythe at grimm* If you didn’t want help then you wouldn’t have asked. So let’s do this together.

Ozpin:(She’s right you know. If you’re gonna trust anyone trust her.)

Oscar:...Ruby, let’s beat this guy.

Ruby:Yeah!!!!

Ozpin:(You got this Oscar. Show em what you’re made of.)

Oscar:*stands next to Ruby* let’s show em a synergy like no other.

Alpha:*closes the distance*

Ruby:An honest soul...! *creates vortex of petals around the grimm and Oscar*

Oscar:Standing with a heroic one! *rushes towards him*

Alpha:*Raises claw again*

Ruby:*Shoots one leg down* A fairy tale...

Oscar:*sweeps the other one from under it.* That doesn’t go out of style!

Alpha:*gets lifted by the vortex*

Oscar:Welcome to our Rose Garden...

Ruby:*wraps scythe around the Alpha* Mind the thorns.... *rips it in half*

Oscar:Hey thanks Ruby for the-*gets flicked in the forehead* Ow!

Ruby:That’s for going it alone! You could’ve died today Oscar.

Oscar:I’m sor-*gets hugged* ummm

Ruby:I know it’s frustrating trying to prove you can handle things alone. But I’ll promise you’ll get stronger so please, don’t do something that crazy again ok?

Oscar:...*hugs back* I promise.

Ruby:Good! We should start heading back; everyone is probably worried. *walks ahead*

Ozpin:(Gotta admit, you had me worried there.)

Oscar:Sorry about that. The grimm got the better of me.

Ozpin:(Grimm? I’m talking about that hug. I thought you were gonna faint with how fast your heart rate was.)

Oscar:*blushing* Sh...shut up!!!

Ozpin:(Sure thing “Mr. Heroic Soul”)

Oscar:I am! After all you’re a hero and we have similar souls.

Ozpin:(You...think I’m a hero?)

Oscar:Of course! Your screw ups don’t change that; it just makes you more human than you we thought. What’s important is that you keep trying right?

Ozpin:(Hey Oscar...?)

Oscar:Hmm?

Ozpin:(Thank you.)

Oscar:*smiling* heh no problem Ozma.

#rwby #rwby synergy #ruby rose #rwby ozpin #oscar pine #rwby rosegarden #ozma

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seraphcelene · 6 years ago

Text

TV: The Passage: 01x06 - I Want to Know What You Taste Like

So, the end of the world continues apace. Pre-teens are pre-teens and we learn some interesting things about the Virals.

Also, and unrelated .... I acknowledge that I’m an episode, about to be two episodes behind on Roswell, New Mexico. Work is a little cray. Hopefully, I’ll rectify this miss soon.

On with episode six!

There's something rotten in the state of Denmark as Winslow who made a mad-dash escape from B4 last week, headed out into the world and wreaked havoc and mayhem. This was not, apparently, part of the plan, but a small rebellion on the part of Winslow. Fanning isn't too happy about it and, to be honest, doesn't really know what to do with it and has no power to change it. It's an interesting peak into the interior life and power strata of the Virals, one that until now has been viewed through the lens of our resident Power Couple: Fanning and Babcock.

There still isn't any enlightenment on why there has to be twelve Virals in order for the New World order that Fanning has planned to come to fruition, but the fact that he isn't as in control as we've been led to believe or that he is presenting to the outside world is a pretty telling. For all that he suggests that the end is nigh and inevitable, this episode reminds us that it is not. His authority is dubious and his prescience, apparently, is mostly mind fuckery. He doesn’t know what Amy is or how the virus has mutated with her and he was UTTERLY surprised when Dr. Lear decided to light them all up at the end of the episode.

I'm also much more curious about the other Virals and their agendas. We got a peek at Babcock's agenda which has as much to do with her anger at Sykes as it does with whatever misplaced loyalties she may have gifted Fanning.

Babcock targeting Clarke becomes very personal. She is, also, even before the turn, a Master Manipulator. She played Sykes from jump, picking at her and looking for weaknesses and connections even when she, ostensibly, had nothing to gain from it. It draws an interesting line in the sand for the future of the Virals and how this revolution might play out. There are the Manipulators with a plan, like Babcock and Fanning who play excellent mind games. Psyhic chess, really, as they feint and parry and test and push and try to build a strategy before their opponents figure out whVt they're doing. Then there are the Virals like Winston, who are all about the immediate thrill. Id vs Ego, I guess. The Virals ruled by their passions, who want what they want right now without really thinking it through.

I also wonder how much of the difference is determined by the varying degrees of imprisonment that the virals are under. Does the physical body have any driving will that might trump the mental prowess that Fanning was so quick to brag about to Elizabeth. From the outside looking in, they are mindless zombie monsters. Is that a disguise or is it a reality that the virals aren't admitting to. Is that rich, interior life that Fanning is clinging to and sliding through people's dreams projecting something that will translate into physical reality once he's outside of the cage he's in?

Babcock, for all that she is planning and strategizing, is also very clearly targeting Skyes. I love that Sykes figures it out and was so completely unsurpised when Shauna showed up in the lab. Despite her fear, she was clearly aware of what was happening and I LOVED that and I LOVED that she admitted right away and without qualms what had happened to Lear. I am sick unto death of these supposedly intelligent people lying and carrying on. I also LOVED how Dr. Lear was like, yep, time to go kill 'em all. Sad though it may be, and yes, they were people and yes this was my fault and yes, I'm going to kill them anyway.

The most sound decision that I have heard so far. The not so great part of that? The realization that killing the Viral kills everyone their tied to and how that means Amy and Elizabeth. It was a dumb move for them to stop considering how it was all the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few way back in the beginning of this little endeavor. Of course, I realize that then there would be no show, but this particular way out was too obvious and completely in contention with the intial directive that Project Noah seemed to exsit under.

Other Things: * What is up, Dr. Lila?! Running through the woods when you see monsters in the road is not the best decision ever. I thought she was going to jump into the front seat and drive away. That made more sense. Alas, she ran through the woods and wound up in a cabin where Winston had just been ... of course. She then patches up a woman who turns rather quickly and proceeds to try to eat her throat out.

* Along with Shauna stalking Dr. Sykes and her statement that she wants to know what Sykes tastes like, i.e. she wants to kill her personally, the new Viral that Lila found recites an interesting little litany that sounds like a baking receipt that quickly devolved into a blood craving, eliding the people as food theme pretty creatively.

* So, on an interesting note, the Virals turned via Bite change MUCH more rapidly than the people who are injected with the Virus. I was wondering about that because Vampire stories are intrinsically infection stories and this one was a little shaky seeing as how controlled the spread was presented. We've drifted very far from the Pilot episode and Fanning's bite and subsequent re-awakening. We were never given a timeline for how quickly he changed, so this episode was eye opening.

* Pre-teen!Amy!!!!! For the win. Okay, she was being bratty, but I love that in the middle of all the madness, she is still a little girl grieving for her mother and pissed off at her surrogate Dad for being overprotective and not listening. Plus, she's just pissed at her Dad and sometimes kids are just pissed at their parents. Her siding with Guilder was REAL pointed and not in the least Subtle. She was mad and she wanted to make sure that he knew it even though she really didn't want him very far away. Kids!

* The hug at the end and that giant breath that Wolgast exhaled make my heart constrict. He was so relieved that they had made up and I did not believe for even one tiny little second that he really believed or mean any of that clap trap about not being her dad. He is TOTALLY all about being her dad.

* Amy totes knows it, too.

* I love that he told Amy about his daughter and that Amy recognized how important that information was and made a point to turn around and look him in the face while he apologized and told her Important and Personal Things. I really love those two.

* Clark. Interesting, he's less of an asshole when away from Shauna. And apparently he gets is common sense back the further away from her that he gets. Nice to see that he understands, finally, that everything is going to shit. I feel like that's poor writing, but I guess he supposed to be a little bit of a good guy somewhere in there.

* I am baffled as to how Horace Guider managed to survive that little ambush in the Water Resovior or wherever they were.

#the passage #tv: miscellaneous

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atombombbagel · 7 years ago

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WHAT DO YOU THINK ROMANCED COMPANIONS WOULD BE LIKE WAKING UP ON CHRISTMAS MORNING AND WHAT GIFT WOULD THEY BRING SOLE IM YELLING BECAUSE IM THINKING OF ALL THE CUTE FLUFF STUFF

Okay sooo, this wasn’t written by me but by my good friend @fantomofthehiddles, who did a super good job at this masterpiece. It’s under keep reading because it is long and amazing :P

[[Damn, Iturned this into an f!Sole before I realised what I was doing. So sorry, I’lldo better next time, I pwomise! ;__;]]

[[Also,sorry this turned to be as long as an average Ghoul lifespan…]]

Sole awoke one morning to find the worldcovered in snow. At first, she felt surreal, like in the old world, like justin a second she would hear Shaun shifting in his crib, crying for his mommy.But it wasn’t Nate who was still asleep next to her, and it wasn’t 2077anymore. It was just the thick layer of snow and halos of icicles hideverything that, up till now, did a very good job of reminding her the worldhad changed: ruined houses, dead trees with broken branches, ubiquitous debris,and even the yelloweed grass. She reached for her Pip-Boy, as she did everymorning, accidentally turning the knob to “Data”, and if it wasn’t for that,she wouldn’t even realize it was 25th of December already. And thenit hit her: this would be her first Christmas without Nate, without Shaun…without her family.

Cait

“Hey,darlin’, you okay?” Cait sat up next to her, wrapping the bedding around hernaked body to protect herself from the crispy tang in the air. Sole put her armaround her and nodded mindlessly, though the words “yeah, I’m fine” somehowdidn’t want to leave her throat. Cait’s eyes wandered to the Pip-Boy. “Oh, it’sChristmas, ain’t it?”

Solelaughed softly, though didn’t really feel it. “You forgot? Really?” She didn’tmention she would have almost forgotten it herself.

“Hey, whenyou haven’t any real holidays yer entire life, they just slip by.” She soundedalmost angry, but then she looked to the side, maybe even blushed a little, andsaid, “Well, I ain’t gonna spend it complainin’. I’m glad I have me darlin’ toshare it with.” And with a kiss on Sole’s cheek, she jumped out of bed andopened the trunk she kept her things in. “Here. I made this for ya. I know itain’t much, but… I’m not as good with me hands as you are.”

Sole turnedthe bladed knuckles in her hands. They were chrome-finished, polished to ashine, and the blades were so visibly sharp Sole didn’t feel the need to check.On the bottom, on the surface that would rest against her palm, Cait had engraved:“Give ‘em a taste, love” in surprisingly elegant letters. Sole started tosuspect she had had Sturges help her with these.

“Not much?”she teased. “I love them. Come here.” She pulled Cait back to the bed and gaveher a kiss, which soon turned into a much hungrier and sexier make-out session, until they finally pulled away, albeitwith some effort. “Now, what do you say we go for a walk to the Combat Zone andmake Tommy spend Christmas with us? And we could have MacCready come with us.”

Cait lookedat her in such surprise, she didn’t even notice her eyes teared up a little.“Nothing would make me happier, luv.” And after another second of staring atSole’s face in wonder, she smiled with clear, unbridled joy, a smile Sole sorarely got to see on Cait’s face, and said, “It’s nice, y’know, having afamily.”

Curie

“I havenever seen snow before, did you know?” Curie said, standing at the window,staring at the white roofs of Diamond City’s buildings. Sole walked over to herto embrace her from behind. She put her chin on Curie’s shoulder, looking out atthe view, and suddenly all the hard work she’d put into installing the windowwas worth it. The fluff was still falling, slowly, gently drifting to theground, clinging to the Christmas lights drawn across the square, and thechildren played below, having a snowball battle without care for any collateraldamage to walls and passers-by.

Sole dug her face in Curie’s neck, stifling acry as she realized she would never get to see Shaun, real Shaun, playing like that. She did adopt the synth Shaun,mostly for Curie’s sake; Curie, upon learning about the feud between theRailroad and the Institute, and how everyone else played into it, had been veryconcerned about how their relationship could be viewed by others. How Solecould be ostracized or even persecuted for loving her. How maybe she didn’treally like being with a synth. So Sole adopted the kid to calm her doubts,show her she really cared; but there was still a nagging voice in the back of hermind making her constantly aware that the ten-year-old boy, now running aroundTakahashi’s noodle stand in order to get a better angle at the ‘enemy team,’wasn’t her real son. Even though he acted like one and loved her like one. Hewasn’t her own.

But peopledidn’t know that, except for select few, like Curie, of course, or Nick who hadhelped her find Shaun in the first place, or X6. Everyone else though shereally did find her son at the Institute. Well, they weren’t really wrong.

“As much asI love this, ma belle,” Curie said,pulling Sole out from the dark corners of her mind, “we must get going. He havea lot to do today! You promised me carolling, remember?”

“I do,”Sole replied reluctantly. Oh, Piper was going to have a field day with them.

“Butfirst,” Curie continued, obviously ignoring her tone, “I have made a veryspecial gift for you, mon amour!” Shescuttled through the room, leaving Sole completely dumbfounded. They’d beenspending every waking moment together for weeks now. When did Curie manage toget her a gift without her noticing? And a hand-crafted one, at that? “Here,unwrap it! I read that unwrapping presents used to be an important traditionbefore the War. But I’m afraid I had to use pages from a children’s book. It iscolorful, yes?”

It wascolorful, and pretty. So much that Sole tried her best not to damage thepackaging too much, but Curie didn’t seem to mind. What emerged looked somewhatlike a leather collar, black, and quite elegant. There was a round piece ofplatinum at the front which seemed to have a purpose beyond just being adecoration.

“It doessomething, doesn’t it?” Sole asked, throwing Curie a mistrustful glance.

“Yes, see,if you put it on and press this button, it releases a mild chemical which willstop pain conduction from the neck down. It should make it more comfortable foryou to tend to your injuries in the field, when I am not there to help.Professor Scara helped me with the technology. She said it is called ‘achoker’, even though I don’t see why. Still, very useful, no? And I think youwill look very mignonne in it.”

“Oh, Curie,”Sole said, almost crying for some reason. “You’re the most amazing woman I’veever met. Thank you.”

“I knew you would like it!” Content, sheopened the window to shout: “Shaun, monpetit cœur! It is time to come home!” And as she turned back to Sole, “This shouldbe an interesting experiment. We should start with the Science Center, no? Myco-workers should be thrilled to have us.”

Sole turnedthe choker in her hands, feeling the texture of the soft leather, before sheput it on the side table. There would be time to test it later. Now, she wasabout to spend Christmas with her family.

Danse

“What was that about?” Sole heard Hancock’s voiceoutside the window.“Hell if I know,” Nick replied, they voices getting quieter as they walkedaway. Sole looked out the window to find Danse standing on the porch.

“Whathappened?” she asked.

“I smiled,”he replied, causing her to choke with stifled laughter. “And I told them ‘MerryChristmas’. I don’t think they liked it.”

“They wereprobably just surprised,” she said before walking out to the porch with him andpromptly shivering in the cold. Note to self: winter is not the time of year towalk out of the house in nothing but a nightgown. “Oh, shit, it’s cold.”

Danselooked her up and down. “That is indeed the case when you stand barefoot in thesnow.” Had he said it, he picked up against her protests that everyone wasgoing to see—

“It’s justfor a second,” he cut her off, dashing to the building across the street. AndSole, holding on to his strong, broad shoulders, suddenly didn’t mind. He sether down near the fire. “I actually have something for you that might be theanswer to your problem.” And from a locker, he pulled out… Maxson’s battlecoat?

“Wh… Pleasetell me you didn’t go back to the Prydwen to kill Elder Maxson for this,” shestuttered out, but as Danse began shaking his head with amusement, she noticedthere wasn’t any blood on it, and in fact, there weren’t any sign of wear atall.

“If I did,I wouldn’t be standing here right now,” he replied. “It’s just…” Shock onSole’s face deepened. She had never heard him not finish a sentence before.“You used to joke about how much you liked Maxson’s coat, so I thought I shouldmake one for you. Like I said once: if you want something, say it, and I’llmake it happen.” And he wrapped the coat around her bare shoulders, and shemarveled at how warm it was, how well it fit her, how even the lining was justright, and how…

“You madethis? On your own?” She still couldn’t believe it, even holding the damn thing inher hands.

“Well, theyalways encouraged us to work on our uniforms, and turns out, leather isn’t muchdifferent. I hope you like it.”

“Oh, Danse,I love it!” She jumped into his arms again just to give him a deep kiss. Andfeel his biceps, because why not. Danse in turn embraced her waist and huggedher close to steady her. She could feel his firm chest on hers even through hisclothes. As always, it made her remember Nate, just like every time Danse puton his power armor, she remembered Nate in his, and, just as always, shecouldn’t help thinking about how lucky she was. This is where she’d alwaysbelonged: in a soldier’s arms. “Thank you so much, hun’.”

Dansestumbled back into the wall as he put his forehead against hers, closed hiseyes, and momentarily lost his balance a bit; but Sole wasn’t worried. Even ifthey had fallen, Danse would make sure she landed safe on him. Nevertheless,there was something desperate in how he longed for her touch.

“Honey?What’s going on?” she asked gently, her hands against his face. He squeezed herwaist harder, to the point it almost hurt, but then he set her down again.

“I want totell you how important this is for me,” he said softly, looking straight intoher eyes. His fingers played with a strand of her hair, almost as if on theirown. “The last real Christmas I had was… all the way back in Rivet City, withCutler. Later, when we joined the Brotherhood… There always seemed to be moreimportant things to do. Holidays just seemed… silly. We’d give each other smallgifts for a few years, the even that stopped, and then he…” And now, for thefirst time since always, she heard his voice break. She rubbed his face withher hand, trying to give him some sort of comfort. He took a breath, thencontinued, “I just want you to know, this means a lot. Those memories withCutler are some of the most precious ones I have, and I feel blessed to be ableto add to them with you. You make me feel the same way he did: like I have afamily again.”

Hancock

Sole turnedand looked at Hancock, still sleeping soundly, his scarred lips slightly partedin steady breaths. His eyes were moving as he mumbled something in the linesof, “what the fucking fuck happened to this mutfruit?” Sole should havelaughed, but somehow, it only made her feel worse. She didn’t want to wake himfrom this obviously thrilling dream, but… She snuggled up to him, put her headon his bare chest, the warm ridges and crests scraping against her cheek. Ifshe felt chilly before, that was now completely replaced with the heatemanating from Hancock. She clinged to him with her entire body, blamingherself as he stirred awake.

“Hey,sunshine, what’s going on?” He threw his arm around her, squeezing her waistreassuringly.

“I’m sorryI woke you. I didn’t—”

“Come on,getting to spend more time with you? Nothing I’d like more In the world.” Hekissed her forehead and she nuzzled her face into his neck, breathing in hisscent. “So what’s up? Why are you like this? Come on, it’s Christmas.”

“I know…”

“Oh… Ohh.”He pulled her up onto himself until she was on top of him. He cupped her facein his hands, placed another gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you, Sole. I knowit’s not enough to fill the hole your family left in you, b— No, shit, don’tcry.”

Solecouldn’t help it. She clung to him again, bawling all over his shoulder,suddenly so overwhelmed by every bad and good thing she felt, she couldn’t holdit in anymore. She’d been gathering it up for the last three months, nevertalking much about it, never letting it out, because in this world, everyone’slives sucked, and most of them much worse than hers. She had it good, comparedto some. And she really did believe she’d left her old life behind, since thisone was, surprisingly, so much simpler. But apparently not.

Hancock heldher close, rocking them a little as he brushed her hair and gave it a fewkisses. She still couldn’t believe how well he understood, even though she knewit was killing him inside to see her still pining for the husband she had lost.For a dead man. Unless she found a way to truly put Nate out of her mind,Hancock would always feel like he does now: like he comes second to her. Andyet, he remained at her side, loving her unconditionally. Saying how he didn’tdeserve her, when truly, it was her who didn’t deserve him.

“I loveyou, too,” she said finally, having regained control over her shaky breathing.“And I’m so, so sorry.”

“Now, don’ttalk crap like that.” Hancock brushed her hair aside as she raised her tear-stainedface to look him in the eye. “You had a rough year. Rough two hundred years.You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Shesnuggled up to him again, suddenly unable to speak again. Hancock gave her amoment which he seemed to enjoy just as much as she did, and then said: “Okay,that’s enough of being two emotional wrecks, we need to get going,” as helazily slapped her ass.

Sole satup, too surprised to throw him a black look. “What? Why?”

“We’rehaving a Christmas party at the Third Rail. Didn’t I tell you?” She shook herhead. “I could swear I told you. I did tell you to bring a dress, didn’t I? Well,anyway, it won’t be much of a party without everyone’s favorite mayor making anappearance, so why don’t you just…” And then he bluntly rolled her off of him.Sole, with a pained sigh, kept rolling until she almost fell off the bed andscrambled to her feet.

“Oomph…fuck.” She leaned against the wall, feeling her head explode, but like, in thedistance.

“Youalright?”

“Just a bitdizzy. And a headache.”

Hancockcame over to kiss her temple, but snorted along the way: “You’re spending waytoo much time with me.” But then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Ormaybe you’re sick?”

“Bullshit.I’m just tired.” As soon as she could move normally again, she began dressing,much to Hancock’s theatrical anguish. “It’s not like last night brought me muchsleep, exactly…”

“Yeah,sure, make it all my fault,” he teased as he pulled on his coat and fastenedthe belt across his chest. “You little vixen, you.”

Solechuckled. It absolutely was not his fault. He had just about fallen asleep whenshe’d decided to jump his bones. Oh, the poor bed.

Afterseveral minutes of him constantly interrrupting her as she tried to getdressed, they finally went down to the Third Rail, where the entire populace ofGoodneighbor was already gathered. As soon as Hancock walked in, everyonewelcomed him with an earth-shattering ‘huzzah!’ raising their glasses, which,as Sole suspected, were full thanks to his generosity. Oh, how easy it was tomake these people happy. Hancock waited for the commotion to die down—someonehanded him a glass of wine in the meantime and Hancock now thumped hisfingernails against it.

“I’d liketo make an announcement,” he said. “One a bit more elaborate than my usual ‘ofthe people, for the people’.” Everyone cheered anyway. “Okay, okay. Come on,folks. I just wanna say that Goodneighbor may have started as a place, but nowit’s about you. The people. Without you, there would be no Goodneighbor. And itmakes me more happy than I can say to be able to call myself your mayor andcall you my family.” Cheers and ‘aww’s broke out again.

“We loveyou, too, Hancock!” a man shouted.

“Now, now,don’t get too familiar, Joe, you’re not my type.” Hancock winked and Sole couldswear at least half the crowd pretended to faint while the rest laughedheartily. “Not to mention, and here we’re coming up on the second part of myannouncement that most of you probably know, I’m already spoken for.” Sayingthat, he pulled Sole in closer. The crowd cheered on, albeit less loudly, andsome of them murmured in an unsurprised agreement. Sole’s eyes met MacCready’s,who was sitting at the bar, and he smiled and put his glass up to her.

“Now I’dlike you all to come see the gift I got this one. Y’know, in hopes she’ll makegood use of it and come visit us a little more often.” People laughed again,and then most of them followed as Hancock led Sole out with his hand on herwaist.

“What thehell did you do, Hancock?” she murmured, blushing. For someone who got involvedin so much, she didn’t necessarily like being the center of attention.

“You’llsee, sunshine,” he replied in that low voice of his. Son of a bitch. Theywalked out into the cold, crispy air, smelling of smoke and winter. Snowcrunched beneath their feet as they took a left turn around the corner of theOld State House… and then she saw it. A beautiful silver vertibird, clearlyfreshly washed and polished, was sitting on the roof of Hotel Rexford. Anenormous red bow was somehow tied around the pilot’s cabin.

“What thefuck? John? What the actual fuck?” she stuttered, and he only stood there andgrinned proudly. “You can’t be serious! Whaa… How did you even…?”

“You knowhow Gunners will do anything for caps?… Yeah.”

“Do went tothe Gunners?!”

“More likecontacted them via a messenger, arranged a meet on neutral gr… Oh, stopfreaking out. They’re pretty reasonable when they hear the caps jingle, andthey do keep their gear in good condition.” Sole was still shaking her head athim with her eyes widened in honest shock, so he continued, “What was Isupposed to do? Go to the Brotherhood?”

“How aboutget me a smaller, more… manageable gift?”

“Stopwhining.” He kissed her to shut her up. Some of the more intoxicated partyerscheered them on as they rode the line between propriety and shamelessly makingout in public. Hancock pulled back a little, but still stayed close, and whenhe had her so close, his rough hands on both sides of her head, suddenly therewas no one else in the entire world. “It’s your fault, you know. Should neverhave said you’d like one of your own. You should’ve known I’d strive to make ithappen.” Sole let out an incoherent babble, hiding her red face in her hands.Hancock laughed and kissed her forehead. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go spendChristmas with family.”

BONUS:

As theydescended back into the Third Rail, this time led by a small group of drunkNeighborhood Watch guards, singing a bawdy song as they stumbled down thestairs, Hancock and Sole were suddenly approached by Magnolia.

“I wantedto say, I’m happy for you two,” she said before they could even greet her.“You…” She put her finger on Sole’s chest. “You are one hell of a woman. Iwould know.” She winked and laughed with that perfectly calculated chuckle.“Take care of him, dear. And you, Hancock—don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh,Magnolia. I would never.” Again, with unbridled joy, he kissed Sole’s templewith such exhilaration, she couldn’t help but laugh. But she also couldn’t tearher eyes off of Magnolia’s fiery gaze. There seemed to be something else.

“But,still, in memory of old times…” She threw Sole a meaninful look, making herblush again, as she reached underneath her dress to take out a small package.“I’d like you to have this. I think it’ll suit you well.” And, saying that,Magnolia left a kiss on Sole’s cheek and went on to take her place at themicrophone and entertain the crowd as only she could. Sole opened the smallpacket to find a ruby-eyed ring with intricate engravings around the socket.Hell, it seemed to be older even than her. She stared at it in disbelief untilHancock gently took it from her.

“Well, I’llbe damned.” He said only before slipping it on her finger and then placing analmost theatrical kiss on her hand. “Now, milady… Shall we dance?”

Solelaughed and let him lead her down to the main room of the Third Rail. No onepaid much attention to them anymore, busy with their own friends andactivities. Only Whitechapel Charlie dipped his hat to them as they went past.They found a fairly quiet corner in MacCready’s VIP room, and as they dancedslowly to Magnolia’s voice seeping under the door, singing her specialinterpretations of the Christmas carols, Hancock embraced her close and kissedher neck gently, sending warm shivers down her spine. Until he suddenly jerkedhis head up.

“Wait. Whatdid Magnolia mean by ‘old times’?” he asked, watching her carefully. Soleblushed at the memory of Magnolia’s scent and deft fingers.

“Nothingmuch, love,” she said immediately, but Hancock’s grin made it clear he figuredit out anyway. She laughed at the face he made. Hancock kissed her deeply, andthen instead of dancing, she was in his arms again as he put his hand on theback of her head and refused to let go. And when they pulled back, they wereboth panting hard, and she could see his thoughts written clearly on his partedlips and lustful gaze.

“Goddammit,John,” she said immediately. “We are notdoing this in MacCready’s room with everyone on the other side of the door.”

“Mm, you’reright…” he mumbled, but still didn’t let her go. “But why not?”

MacCready

She allowedherself several minutes to shed a few tears over the life she used to have, butthen a pitter-patter of small feet sounded in the short hallway, and she hadjust barely enough time to wipe her face in the bedding before Duncan ran intothe bedroom.

“IT’SCHRISTMAS!” he shrieked in a tone that nearly burst her eardrums, jumping ontothe bed. “And there’s snow! Have you seen?”

“Yes,” shechuckled, as if immediately healed by his child-like excitement. “You wannahelp me make the food?”

“I would…”He sat up and wrinkled his nose with an undecisive pout. “But I’d also like togo outside… I mean, there’s so much SNOW!”

“Right, youusually wouldn’t see this much, would you? Okay, then, why don’t you getdressed warm and run down to Miss Alice and get some razorgrain and fruit?Actually, take whatever she’ll give you, your dad will probably figure out ause for it.”

She waitedfor Duncan to say, “Oh, okay, I guess” and leave to get dressed before sheburst out laughing at her own unintended sexual innuendo. Fuck, four days isapparently way too long.

Just anhour and half later, they were both in the kitchen, preparing dough for thecake she had promised Duncan probably a couple of weeks ago. Brahmin wasalready marinating, carrots and silt beans cooking; she even prepped the cornwhen she got bored as the dough was rising. Now she was trying her best to makesomething resembling chocolate icing with the odd-tasting brahmin milk, sweetrolls, sugar bombs, and a pinch of coffee. It wasn’t going so well.

“Duncan!Can you please not?” Sole shouted, gently pushing the boy’s hand away from thedough. “Come on, would you rather eat raw dough or a chocolate cake?”

Duncan wasthinking for the longest time before he finally said, reluctantly, “Cake…”,even though he was still eyeing the dough longingly. Sole sighed. “When isDaddy going to be back?” he asked then, and the way he said ‘Daddy’, like hestill couldn’t believe the word even as it left his mouth, tore Sole’s heartout of her chest. Well, shit. She didn’t need it anyway.

“Soon, Ihope,” she said as normally as she could, but she couldn’t help to glance atthe time. RJ had left their house at Sunshine Tidings a few days ago to go finda gift for Duncan. He’d said he would come back in time for Christmas dinner,hell, that he’d even help her make it, but it was already past noon and hestill hadn’t come home. Fuck knows where he went in the first place. He mightbe dead in a ditch somewhere, chewed on by molerats, or… worse—torn to shredsby ferals. She found herself wondering what she’d do if she had to tell Duncanthat, and then take care of him alone. Would she even be able to?

Don’t thinkabout it, she told herself. It would be okay. She sent Strong to go with RJ,and these two were pretty much unkillable together. RJ probably miscalculatedthe time it would take them to get to Goodneighbor and back with Strong slowinghim down a little.

“Why don’tyou go play with Dogmeat outside?” she asked Duncan, seeing the internal battleover the dough play out clearly on his face. “Just dress warmly and becareful.”

“Okay,” hebeamed up at the idea, got ready in the matter of seconds, and shouted “Comeon, Doggy!” as he rushed out the door. Dogmeat slid off of his couch, stretchedcarefully, and followed him out, his muzzle drooping like he wanted to say,“gosh, I’m getting too old for this,” even though he was barely four.

But soonSole could see the dog rolling in the snow so zealously he rolled off a hilland stopped only at the water pump, hitting it with a yelp. Duncan ran to checkup on him, but Dogmeat got up without trouble and immediately knocked the kidoff his feet and into another heap of snow. Sole chuckled to herself before shewent back to her fight with the icing.

It wasn’tlong before Duncan rushed back inside, red-cheeked and shivering, but stillwith a huge grin on his face. Dogmeat soon followed, covered in snow so snuglyone couldn’t even tell he was a German Shepherd anymore. He stood in the middleof the living room and tensed up.

“Oh, no,no, NO!” Sole managed to shout out as she ran to kick him out to the porch, butshe was too late. Dogmeat shook it all off on the beautiful rug she’d restoredwith such effort. Goddammit. “If youthink you’re getting back on the couch, young dog, you are very mistaken,” shesaid strictly. “You stay here in the mess that you made.”

Dogmeatwhined with his uncanny understanding and indeed sat his tail down on the wetrug. That probably wasn’t the best course of action, Sole thought, but she couldn’tback out of it now. She put some wood in the fireplace before going back to thekitchen.

“And you,Duncan, go change and please hangthese wet clothes near the fire, but not inthe fire, okay?”

Duncannodded and ran off. She still wasn’t over how much energy that kid had. But,she supposed, it was normal for children. She’d just never had a chance towitness it before. Her eyes teared up again, and she told herself it was fromthe heat of the cooking.

Duncan sooncame back, got himself busy with some toys, but then eventually ended up on therug with Dogmeat anyway. Sole watched them amused as Dogmeat rolled onto hisback to get some belly rubs, and Duncan, scratching him with one hand, drovethe toy car on his chest with the other. And when the toy inevitably fell offthe steep slope of a dog’s ribcage, Duncan reached over him for it and Dogmeatshamelessly licked him in the face. Duncan, caught by surprise, jumped backwith a surprised shriek before he laughed. Sole smiled. There was probably nothingmore joyful than a small child’s laugh.

“Aww, Ithink he likes you,” she said and Duncan giggled even more. Dogmeat pushed hishead under Duncan’s hand and the two were promptly playing together again.

Only a fewminutes had passed before the door opened again with another wave of cold airblowing into the house. Sole turned away from the stove just as Duncan yelled:“Hi, Daddy!” and ran to get a hug.

“Hi,buddy,” RJ said, putting his arm around him, and then promptly giving Sole anapologetic look. “I’m sorry it took so long, we—”

“Oh, shutup,” Sole cut him off and ran over, rising up to her toes to finally kiss him.His lips and cheeks were awfully cold, but she didn’t care. “It doesn’tmatter,” she said as she pulled away, sliding her hands down his chest. “Aslong as you’re okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I’mfine. The snow surprised us a little. Some places, it was up to my waist and wehad to improvise. Have you ever had Strong give you a piggyback ride?”

“Wha—”

“Look,Daddy!” Duncan spoke up, having long gone back to playing with Dogmeat on therug. He was now climbing over Dogmeat’s back while the dog not only suffered itpatiently, but even seemed to enjoy it. And just as RJ moved to get him to stopin fears that he’d get hurt, Duncan continued delightedly: “And Mama said Doggylikes me!”

Thatstopped RJ dead in his tracks. Sole, too. Duncan had never called her thatbefore. RJ turned to her slowly with an odd expression. She didn’t know what tomake of it. Was he angry? Did he think she made Duncan say it? She shivered. Orwas he just in shock that after barely a month, his little boy was already…? Hewent over to the kitchen table, stiffly, sat down… and just started crying.Sole froze. Duncan didn’t notice there was anything wrong, thankfully, so whenshe could move again, Sole grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to thebedroom, saying, “Let’s go get you changed out of those, you’re freezing.”

It wasn’tthat she wasn’t shaken, especially with how Duncan just threw it in there, intoa normal sentence, like it was the most regular thing in the world. And thetruth was, he had never called her anything before, really. Somehow, thatfive-year-old kid managed to navigate every conversation in a way that allowedhim to avoid calling her anything else than ‘you’. So this did feel like a.50-caliber bullet to the chest.

But RJ wasin such state that all of that now faded away. He slumped to the edge of thebed like he got deflated, and immediately hid his face in his hands. Solekneeled on the floor next to him and could see tears glistening between his fingers. She rubbed his knee, but couldn’tfind any words to say. Only after a long while filled only with RJ’s stifledsobs and the quiet sounds of Duncan’s play coming from the other room did Solemanage to let out a sad sigh and whisper, “RJ…”

“I’m sosorry…!” he whimpered, barely keeping his voice down as he collapsed entirelyso that Sole had to embrace him and prop him up on her shoulder, or he would’vefallen off the bed.

“No, no…”she said, but he didn’t seem to be listening anymore. He just went on.

“Oh, God… Ijust never expected him to…” He held on to her for dear life, and thedesperation and pain behind his cries made her tear up, too. There was somethingsqueezing her throat already. “It’s been years… Years… And I stopped believingI’d ever hear him use that word again… And the first time I do, I think, ‘no,it’s not her’. Oh, God, Sole, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be,RJ,” she could barely hold her own tears back. Something about the way he criedresonated deep within her and she couldn’t help herself. “I’m not trying tofill Lucy’s shoes. I don’t expect you to forget about her, I know you stilllove her.”

RJ wassilent for a longer while, clearly trying to regain his composure, before hefinally pulled away and looked her in the eye. He seemed calm, but his eyesbetrayed the freshly opened wounds he suffered from. “I do. But I love you,too. And I didn’t like feeling like that—angry, at my little boy. It wasn’t hisfault. He probably doesn’t remember Lucy at all…” His voice broke again, andSole had to blink away her tears. “It’s not his fault. It just… hurt, you know?Like she was being erased and… I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Sole.”

“You don’thave to apologize, babe. I get it.”

Hesniffled. “…I know. You always do, don’t you?” He kissed her forehead, his handon the back of her neck as he pressed his lips against her skin. He then puthis cheeks to hers and stayed like that for a while. “I still remember it, likeit was just last week. Lucy was playing with him, holding him on his lap, andwe talked about something… the crops, I think? And suddenly, that little boyraised a toy in his hand and just said, ‘Mama!’… It was the first word he eversaid.”

Sole feltwhat was left of her tormented heart drop to the bottom of her stomach. “I’msorry,” she said. RJ looked at her in surprise, so she explained, “I feel likeI took that away from you.”

“No.” Hisvoice was suddenly adamant, as if seeing her crying, in pain, made him switchinto protector mode again. “No, you gave my son a home. If he’s able to acceptyou as his mother…”—even as he said that, his voice trembled, “I should behappy. It’s not your fault, and definitely not his, that I can’t handle moving on.”

“You’redoing just fine,” she reassured him with a smile. “As long as we love eachother, we’ll figure everything else out.” He nodded, but she could clearly seeshe made him emotional again. She wiped her face, completely covered in tearsshe didn’t even feel. “Wow,” she mumbled, “we are a pair of tragic messes.” RJlaughed softly, but only held on to her hand as she stood up. “Come on,sweetie. You promised to cook.”

And thatfinally tore a real, honest chuckle from his throat; Sole beamed up alongsidehim. They went back to the kitchen, hand in hand, but before she managed to puthim at the pots, RJ hurried to the duffel bag he had left near the door.

“Hey,Duncan,” he said, “do you wanna see your present?”

The boyjumped up from the rug, letting out something that only vaguely resembled avery loud ‘YES!’. He rushed to the table just as RJ was putting the duffel bagthere and asked, “Is that why you were gone for so long?”

“Yeah,buddy. Had to go get the best for you.” And with that, RJ reached into the bagand pulled out… a BB gun. Sole blinked in surprise. She didn’t expect him to dothat sort of thing, not after all those times when he said he didn’t wantDuncan to have the same life he did, full of violence and blood. But thenagain, was there really any other life to be made in the Commonwealth?

“I know, Iknow,” he said, seeing Sole’s surprised gaze. “But he needs to learn to protecthimself, and the earlier, the better, right? Besides, I mean, it’s just a BBgun, it’s not like he’s going to turn into me…”

Duncan,after doing a round around he house holding the small rifle like a commando,ran back and stood at the table, looking somewhat distraught. Sole took amoment to admire the worksmaship of the weapon. Even if it was just a glorified toy, the barrel was sleek black and the buttpolished to a shine, and there was something special in the way it was built.It must’ve been a unique. And she had no doubts RJ cleaned and oiled it atleast three times on his way back.

“Isanything wrong, love?” she asked noticing Duncan didn’t really know how tostart.

“No, Imean, I really like it, but…” He sucked his lips in, then pouted again. “I wanta scope, too.”

RJ glaredat him, like he wanted to say, ‘NO, YOU DON’T’, but before he could, Sole cautiouslyasked, “Why?”

“’Cause Iwanna be just like Daddy when he shoots.”

Solestifled a laugh, which was an especially difficult task, given RJ’s surprised,almost betrayed face in front of her. “Sure, Duncan,” she said. “We’ll figuresomething out tomorrow, how about that? And for now, just go and play with it,learn how it feels. Okay?” And as Duncan shuffled away, she looked back at RJ.“I think you may have miscalculated a bit, love.”

“Thatlittle…” He shook his head. “You do know it makes no sense, though.”

“Of course,but what harm could it be? I’ll make him a detachable short scope. Let him havefun with it, even if the gun’s range isn’t nearly enough.”

RJ sighedand only then stopped making faces in disbelief. He threw her another odd look,but this time it was one of the good kind. “I have something for you, too,actually,” he said, but before Sole could protest, he added, “it’s not much,don’t freak out. Just a memento, I suppose.” And then he took out a necklacefashioned out of an old silver chain and a rifle round, and placed it in herhand.

“What’sthis?” she asked, feeling like an idiot. RJ said it was a memento, so sheprobably should recognize it from somewhere, but she just couldn’t place it.But he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s thefirst round I shot after taking up with you. We encountered some raiders on theway to Diamond City? You were taking cover in front of me, and just as I wastaking aim, you stood up with those brass balls of yours and just went at ‘em.Distracted me so much I completely missed. I picked it up afterwards—at first,I was supposed to use it again, but then it just sort of traveled with me andnever found a way into my rifle. So…”

“It’sperfect,” she said, “I love it. Can you…?”

Evenfastening the necklace on her, RJ couldn’t help but make excuses. “I know it’snot much, but…”

“Hey.” Sheturned around and put her arms around his neck again. “It doesn’t matter, love.You already gave me the best Christmas gift I could ever dream of: a family.”

Piper

Solepromptly put it out of her mind—there was a lot to do. She woke Piper with akiss, the kind that made her murmur and stretch, and then put her arms aroundSole’s shoulders and pull her in for continuance. Her house in Diamond Citywasn’t big, but with Sole only dropping by from time to time when she managedto steal away from her other duties, it was more than enough. And even thoughit was insanely early for both of them, they already heard Nat bustling arounddownstairs.

“Wow,” Solesaid. “She got excited for Christmas.”

“Nat?Never,” Piper replied, getting out bed and rushing down the stairs, still onlyin her shirt and shorts. Sole took a moment to appreciate her legs and the waythe oufit showed off certain parts of her, before finally getting dressedherself and following her.

“MerryChristmas!” Nat, wearing an apron, shouted at their sight way more joyfullythan Sole had ever heard her speak. She didn’t even put down the ladle when shehugged them both warmly, and then went back to cooking. Piper looked like she’dbeen hit by lightning.

“What isgoing on?” she whispered to Sole as they went back upstairs to get dressed.“Did the Institute take her.”

“Stop it,”Sole laughed. “It’s just the holiday cheer.”

“No,seriously, Blue… I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Trust me,she’s just possessed by Christmas spirit.” Piper didn’t seem entirelyconvicted, but Sole couldn’t really offer her anything else. She still hadn’ttold her she’d decided to take over the Institute in order to make it betterfor the people of the Commonwealth. She had no idea how Piper would react. Soeven though she knew firsthand Nat was not swapped and that, in fact, no onewould get swapped for a synth ever again, she wasn’t going to tell her that onChristmas morning. “Look, if she still acts like this after the holidays, then you’ll have a reason to be worried.For now, just enjoy it. Come on, she’s cooking for us.”

“Yeah,that’s what worries me the most,” Piper mumbled. “But okay. I’ll put aside mymistrustful journalist nature aside… just for today.”

“Goodgirl,” Sole teased and kissed her again. “Now, come on, I wanna give you yourgift.”

“No!” Piperjumped in immediately. “Me first!” After which, she darted back downstairs withSole close at her heels.

“Really,you should probably see what I got f—” She didn’t finish as Piper pushed a boxup to her face like a little excited girl. It was flat, but quite big, with abig blue bow around it. “Okay…” Sole said as her brow raised, and Piperimmediately got all flustered and adorable.

“O-Okay,maybe I got a little bit too… But I just… Oh, just open it.”

So Sole didand inside she found a… a scrapbook? Well, it was definitely hand-made, withpages glued to the leather-bound cover with wonderglue, probably, and even thecover seemed to be taken from some other book. But it didn’t matter, becausewhen Sole opened it, she found pages and pages and pages of photos of her and Piper, and even some of the others,all from the time they spent traveling together. There was her conversationwith Nick, and here how she went to the mayor’s office, and on the next pagewere even photos of her breaking into Kellogg’s old house… But somehow, ‘thisreporter’ managed to keep herself from captioning every single one, insteadsettling for just a few sarcastic remarks here and there, like the one thatsaid “Justice served hot” at the photo of her going at some raiders with aflamer. Sole felt like she was about to burst out laughing, but instead shejust stood there in awe.

“You… Youwere taking photos the entire time?” she stuttered out, then raised her gaze tolook at Piper’s flustered face.

“Yeah, Imean… Didn’t you ever notice?”

“I… I don’tknow, I guess I didn’t. I mean, I saw you photographing everything else, justnot… me.” She went back to flipping through the pages. Here was their time atCovenant… There, their trip to Vault 81… And at the very end, on the last page,was only one photo—the one they’d made together at the beginning of theirrelationship, here in Diamond City, laying in Piper’s bed as Sole kissed hercheek and Piper couldn’t help but blush and laugh. And the caption said only, “HowI knew”. Sole felt tears pricking at her eyelids.

“Thank you,Red,” she managed to push through her tightened throat.

“You’rewelcome, Blue.” Piper looked like she was about to burst into tears herself,but held herself bravely as she pulled Sole in for a hug. They just couldn’tstay away from each other, could they?, Sole thought, burying her face inPiper’s hair.

“Hey, youtwo lovebirds, how about some help here?” Nat suddenly shouted from the otherside of the room. “Do I have to do everything alone?!”

Piperpulled away from Sole, sniffled; wiped away a tear hanging from Sole’seyelashes; and then she chuckled and said, “Gotta love family, huh?”

Preston

By the timeshe managed to gather strength to get out of bed, the entire town was buzzingwith people gathering up near the tree at the round square. She got dressed andfollowed suit, only to see Preston helping the settlers up several ladders tohang decorations from the branches. She kinda liked him in a position ofleadership. There was just something… something else to the way he distributed tasks among everyone, keeping thembusy, until the entire town worked together to make the most of this Christmas.It honestly warmed Sole’s heart as she walked towards them and people greetedher with happy voices and ‘Merry Christmas’es and ‘good to see you’s.

“Hello,General,” Preston said a bit sheepishly as she approached, even though his facewas sporting a wide grin.

“Hello, myFirst Officer,” she replied cheekily. She could swear he blushed a little, butthankfully, with him, only she was able to tell. “You’re having fun,” she addedas she motioned to the people around.

“It’s reassuringto see people come together and forget about their troubles on a day like this.”He smiled softly. He was talking about the settlers, but he looked only at her.Then he turned his face to the sun as his gaze drifted away and he said,“Everyone’s so cheerful and carefree.”

“What aboutyou?” Sole put her hand on his cheek to turn his face back to her. She didn’teven notice when they’d moved closer to each other, to the point where it mightstart being really uncomfortable to everyone around. She didn’t really care.“How is it today?”

“Could bebetter,” he said, and she knew he meant it was awful. “I mean, last year…”

“I know,”she stopped him before he could fall into that abyss again. “I know.”

Prestonkissed her forehead, drawing comfort for having her close. Or at least that’swhat she thought, given that it was exactly what she was doing.

“I’m justglad we found each other,” he said.

“Me, too.”

They stayedlike that for another minute, linked in that intimate embrace, as everyonebustled around them, shouting and laughing. The sun falling on the decorationscovered the ground around them in colorful flashes.

“Come on,”Preston said eventually, pulling away from her, though with clear effort. “Iwant to give you your present.”

“Shouldn’tyou keep watch on your lemmings?”

He blinkedat her. “What’s a ‘lemming’?”

Solepaused, staring into the distance. “Nevermind,” she replied eventually. “Oldworld stuff. Lead on, then. Where did you hide it?”

“Like I’mgoing to tell you,” he smiled at her. “Where would I hide your future presentsthen? Just wait here.” He left her at the porch of their house as hedisappeared behind the one across the street, but then he was gone for so longshe couldn’t tell where he went anymore. Bastard.

And then henearly gave her a heart attack when he came up from behind her saying, “Well,what are you waiting for?” As soon as she was done shrieking, she slapped hisarm as he laughed. Oh, it was so nice to see that poor man laughing. “Come intothe house, love. It’s there on the counter.”

And whenSole looked, she saw a fully modified laser musket laid out in the kitchen,obviously custom made, repainted in blue and white, and with the Minutemen logolovingly engraved on the side. She picked it up gently and turned it in herhands, marveling at the handiwork.

“You saidyou didn’t like the muskets for how long it took to wind them up, so I figuredout how to make it automatic,” Preston said, coming up and embracing her frombehind. “Do you like it?”

“Huh.” Sheput it to her shoulder and let go a quick series of lasers through the openside door at the wreck of her old car that was still standing on the drivewayeven though she was supposed to break it down to pieces probably like twomonths ago. But, well, it turned to ash in a matter of seconds now, so… problemsolved? She threw Preston a glance over her shoulder just to see his perplexedface. Oops. Seems he didn’t expect her to just start shooting it right away. “Ilove it,” she said cheerfully, and bent herself awkwardly to pull him in for akiss. Preston shook his head leniently, but gave in to her and they spent thenext few minutes passionately making out in the middle of the living room asSole only tried not to drop her new gift on the floor.

“Now,”Preston said when they finally ran out of breath and had to pull away, “time toget back to our family, huh?”

#Fallout 4 #Fallout #fallout 4 companions #Fallout 4 companions react #fo4 #fo4 companions #Cait #Curie #Danse #Paladin Danse #Mayor Hancock #Hancock #robert joseph maccready #maccready #piper #piper wright #preston garvey #fantomofthehiddles

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thebellarkes · 8 years ago

Text

Six Years and Seven Days

This is pretending that Bellamy could hear Clarke talking all those years, she just can’t hear him responding, and that the ship at the end is them coming back to Earth.

So...pain.

Day Three

“Bellamy…are you up there? Are you alive? Is anyone alive?”

Static.

“I only woke up yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. I barely made it into the bunker in time, but I made it. And the computer says it’s been three days since the radiation hit, and I was so hungry I thought I might die. Please tell me you didn’t die.”

Silence.

“Bellamy, my mom was right. In a way. My face is disgusting, covered in boils. You’d be laughing at me…probably. Because she was right but so were you. I’m not dead Bellamy. I hope you aren’t either.”

His fingers slammed on the respond button, pushing it down to the point of it feeling like it would crack from the pressure.

“I’m not dead, Clarke. I’m not dead.”

Day Six

“I’ve been going through the computer system, and most of it looks like complete rubbish to me. I know Raven could make sense of it, but for now, I’m just guessing that it’s telling me I have enough oxygen for a year. I think it’s enough. I mean, my nightblood worked, right? Which means, I could survive, outside. I just don’t know if I’m brave enough to test it yet. But, I’ve got a year to build up the courage.”

Static.

“If you were here, you’d give me a rousing speech about how bravery comes from need, not from time, and I’d probably be out those doors in a second. But you’re not here and I don’t need to test it yet. So, I’m gonna keep testing the radio, and see if the signal is actually going anywhere, because I know there’s no way in hell you’re just ignoring me up there, so…I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Stay inside, Princess. Please, stay inside.”

Day Thirty-Nine

“I found a box full of stale crackers that look like they came from the lighthouse. Tell John that he left them behind, will ya? And also, tell him I ate all of them.”

He laughed, and hoped that even though he couldn’t hear it, she was laughing too. “I’ll tell him.” He said, still holding down the respond button, despite knowing that she wouldn’t receive the message. “I’ll tell him.”

“Also…Bellamy, it’s lonely, down here.”

Day Eighty-Four

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, something I’ve never told anyone before, and whatever you think, you can’t laugh at me. You promise?”

Silence.

She took a deep breath in. “Okay, so this is one of my biggest secrets, cos it’s so embarrassing, but when I was fourteen, I had a crush on this girl in my Earth Skills class, Danny. She was about a year older than me, and my god Bellamy, she was beautiful. But, I had no idea how to talk to her, there were always people around, and we lived on different stations, and I was hopeless, okay? Completely hopeless.”

Bellamy couldn’t picture a single time in the space he’d known her where she’d been hopeless. It was an entertaining thought.

“Anyway, one day, I got Wells to create a diversion outside the classroom before everyone else could come in, so me and Danny were in the room, alone, together. And I’d kinda borrowed one of the security codes of one of the council members to set off the solar flare alarm and have all the doors sealed.”

“Oh my god…” He breathed to himself, a grin already taking over his face.

“Yeah, I can see you laughing at me, I told you not to do that.” He bit down on the smile. “Anyway, me and Danny are finally alone, and I’m thinking that this is my chance. What I didn’t know is that she was deathly afraid of solar flares, so she starts hyperventilating, and I’m freaking the hell out cos I have no idea what to do, anD THEN.” She paused, and for a moment, he thought the feed had cut out, and a surge of panic swelled in his gut. Until, “THE IDIOT PASSED OUT! RIGHT ONTO THE HARD METAL FLOOR OF THE CLASSROOM!” Bellamys laugh made its way out of his mouth before he could stop himself. She’d asked him not to laugh.

“So, Danny hits the ground and it splits her head open, and now she’s bleeding all over the place, and I’m trying to stop it, and the Ark officials are trying to figure out why the hell the alarms went off when there was no solar flare and eventually they sorted it out, and everything was fine, but Bellamy, I tried to flirt with a girl and she ended up with six stitches in her forehead, and a council member got fired.”

“Wow.” He shook his head. “Completely and utterly hopeless.”

Day One Hundred and Two

“Remember when I left after Mount Weather? When I told you I wasn’t going inside, the look on your face was one of the worst things I’ve ever seen. And by worst I don’t mean ugly, or bad, I just mean the feeling it gave me was something I never want to feel again.”

“It’s okay, Princess. I forgave you for that.”

Day Two Hundred and Ninety-Nine

“It’s almost been a year. And I figured out a way to keep the oxygen scrubbers operating for longer but…I wanna go outside. I need to see it, Bellamy. I know it’s stupid, because I grew up on the Ark, I was never meant to be outside, but god, I miss it. I miss it.”

Silence.

“I miss you.”

Day Three Hundred and Seventy

“The sun, Bell! You should see it! It was this amazing colour yesterday, not yellow, but green! Green, Bell! A green sun! It was fucking amazing! I hope you can see it from up there.” She paused for a moment, choking on her excitement. “But I guess, to you, it just looks like the sun. No green, cos no radiation. I’m telling you, though, it’s amazing.”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Day Five Hundred and Twelve

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know, I didn’t check in yesterday. I was…trying to figure out a way to get the radio mobile. I wanna walk to Arkadia, see if the Rover’s still in a drivable condition. But there’s no way in hell I’m going all that way without taking you with me, so if I drop out for a few days, I screwed up. But don’t worry. I’ll fix it.”

Silence.

“You better.”

“She’s gonna screw it up.”

“Shut up, Raven.”

“What? Clarke is smart, but her mind is not geared towards engineering in any way. She’s gonna fry the wires before she figures how to get it mobile.”

“She’ll do it.”

“Mm hm.”

Day Five Hundred and Forty-One

“Okay, so it took a little longer than I thought but I did itttttttt. Raven and Monty would be so proud of me right now, Bellamy, because I am talking to you from inside Arkadia. I mean, what’s left of it, but I did it. And, the Rover looks pretty much intact, aside from a few large tree branches sitting on it. But, I’ll have those off in no time.”

“They’ll be proud when I tell em, Princess. I’m proud of you too.”

Day Five Hundred and Forty-Two

“Bell…I found Jasper…or…what’s left of him. And Riley and so many others. God…I don’t…I also found their moonshine…I think I drank a little too much, but Bell, I think I deserve it. I think I’m allowed to have a drink, aren’t I? You said that, didn’t you? We deserve a drink? Yeah, we do, and since you might be dead and I might be talking to myself right now, I had enough drinks for both of us.”

Day Five Hundred and Eight-Five

“I drove around for two days and couldn’t find any signs of life anywhere around Arkadia…which makes perfect sense. It’s what we predicted. Nothing was supposed to survive this, and I shouldn’t be surprised, right?”

“You survived it. Don’t forget about that part. You survived it, Clarke.”

Day Six Hundred

“Holy fucking shit Bell, you would not believe what happened today. Take a guess.”

“I have no idea.” He laughed at the giddiness in her voice, his feet propped up on the dash beside the coms system.

“Okay, enough guessing, I’m just gonna tell you. I found someone! A person! An actual, living, breathing person, Bell, holy fuck! She’s alive, I mean, alive! She’s a nightblood, Bell, her names Madi, she’s amazing. She survived all this time, on her own.”

Beneath the excitement for her, that she wouldn’t have to be alone anymore, something twisted inside him. God, he was jealous. Curse him, for being jealous of someone who had to go through what Clarke had gone through.

“I think she’s about eight. She’s not entirely sure either, cos, y’know, nuclear apocalypse has kinda distracted us from birthdays, but she looks about eight, and god, Bell, she’s perfect. You’d love her.”

He lifted a hand and scrubbed it down his face, scoffing at his own stupidity.

“I’m gonna take care of her. Got any tips for me?”

“Teach her everything you know. Not just about Earth and survival. Everything. About the Ark, and its history, and the world before the Ark, and the world before the world was advanced enough to build the Ark. Teach her everything you know, Clarke. I know you’ll be amazing at it.”

“I’m just gonna do what I think you’d do. That should be enough.”

Day Seven Hundred and Thirty

“Two years, exactly. Feels weird. You know what I realised the other day? I hadn’t even known you for a year, when you went back into space.” She scratched her nose, willing the tears to not form. “Less than a year, and you somehow became one of the most important people in my life.”

He sat in the command centre, fists clutched around his shirt. “Same to you, Princess.”

Day Seven Hundred and Ninety-Six

“Okay-” Static. “N-” Static. “Don-”

“What the hell?” He murmured, and sat upright. The static continued. “No, no, no.” He tapped furiously on the control panel, even though he could do literally nothing from where he was sitting. “Raven!” He shouted, and turned back to the speaker, staring at it, as if he could will it into working. “Come on, Clarke. Talk to me.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Raven came running into the room, Monty, Harper and the others close behind.

“It’s Clarke, I think something’s wrong.”

“Bellamy, you know we can’t do anything from up here.” Raven put a soft hand on his shoulder.

“No, she has to-”

“Hello? Can he hear me? Hello?” A voice, not Clarke’s, and heavily laden with an accent came over the speaker.

“Yeah, sweetie, he can hear you, he just can’t respond. Now remember, don’t press that one, okay? Only-”

Static.

“Oops.”

Bellamy let a deep breath out and looked up, thanking whoever was out there listening.

“Wait, who’s that with her?”

“Madi.” Bellamy guessed. “Clarke’s been teaching her English, and she’s been begging for a turn on the radio.”

“Even though Clarke has no idea we can hear her and she’s teaching a child to shout into the void?”

“Shut up John.”

“Hi Bellamy. I’m Madi. Clarke told me she talks to you every day, but that I can have a turn sometimes.”

In the background, Clarkes voice crackled through the speaker. “Yeah, sometimes. Tell him I said hi.”

“Clarke says hi.”

Bellamy smiled, and grasped Raven’s hand. “Hi, Princess.”

Day Eight Hundred and Sixty-Seven

“I found an old depot, that I guess was supposed to be bunker, at some point. Completely caved in on itself, to the point of being pathetically sad. It’s weird, when you think about the range in architecture, from the bunkers that literally survived two apocalypses…apocalie? Nah, apocalypses. Yeah, some survived two and other just…splat. Makes you wonder about who was building what. But anyway, we found guns. Cool ones. Madi wanted to play with them, but uh, I followed my instinct and packed them in the rover. Good call, right? I mean, I just tried to picture what you would do if a nine-year-old Octavia tried to pick up a gun, and I figured letting her play with it was not one of the answers. So, yeah.”

He smiled. She wasn’t wrong.

“I’m gonna have to practise now. I can use a handgun just fine, but these are rifles Bellamy. Long range. And this time, I don’t have you to teach me…Do you remember that? God, it seems like so long ago. I mean, I guess it was.”

The memory came flooding back; the day trip, the bunker, teaching her how to hold a gun, the hallucination, the fight, and then her, sitting there, just existing, being exactly what he needed her to be in that moment.

“I know that we were both tripping on those nuts for most of that day, but when we got down in the bunker, and you showed me how to shoot, there was this moment, where your hand was resting on me and I swear you got flustered. Bellamy Blake, getting flustered from touching a girl. Maybe that was part of the hallucination, but I like to think it wasn’t. I like to think there was something in you that thought I was worth getting flustered over.”

“You were worth all of it.” He murmured. “You are worth all of it.”

Day Nine Hundred and Twelve

“We are officially at the halfway point, Bell. Halfway through out time apart. Maybe this half will go a little quicker.”

Day One Thousand One Hundred and Ninety

“I haven’t gone to Polis yet. I probably should’ve done it a while ago, just to see if there were any people around and alive, and to check on the bunker, but…I don’t know how much I trust myself to not open it. I mean, I know I won’t open it, but what if they all died? What if it wasn’t actually sealed, and they’re all dead down there, and I’ll never know?” There was silence for a moment, and he thought she’d gone for the day. “Sorry. You don’t need to think about that. Octavia and my mom are down there, bossing people around and drinking nice, purified water, while I’m stuck with the river stuff that tastes like dead fish. And, I will know, soon enough. After the five years have passed, they’ll all be back up here, with me.”

He nodded to himself. The people in the bunker would be fine. They were fine, and had been for this entire time. Just like him, and everyone in space.

“And you.” The channel stayed open and it sounded like she was holding back tears. “For god’s sake, Bellamy, you better come back.”

Day One Thousand Five Hundred and Eighteen

“I was thinking about the dropship the other day, and you with that nasty, gelled back hair, and how I was so confused that you were on the dropship, because you looked way too old to have been in the Sky Box, when I realised something. You were twenty-three when that happened, right?”

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“I’m gonna be twenty-three when you come back down. So, when I see you again, I’m gonna be the age you were the first time you saw me. I don’t know why that matters. I just feel like it does.”

“If you think it matters, Princess, then it matters. We’ll talk about why when I get there.”

“And, also, you’re gonna be twenty-eight. God! That sounds so old! You’re gonna be an old man, Bellamy. You’re gonna come back, and I’m not gonna recognise you, cos you’ll be an old man with a walking stick and a big grey beard.”

“Very funny.”

“Yeah…you’re laughing at me. I’m just kidding. And don’t worry Bell. I’ll always recognise you.”

Day One Thousand Seven Hundred and Ninety-Five

“Holy hell, Bellamy one month. One moth left and you should be able to come back! I’ve been counting down the days, could you tell? I swear, if you’ve been up there this whole time, not hearing this, I’m gonna kick the crap out of the radio. One thousand, seven hundred and ninety-five days of talking to you for nothing…that would piss me off.”

Static.

“Actually, I’m gonna take back what I said. This wasn’t for nothing. Even if you can’t hear me.”

Day One Thousand Eight Hundred and Three

“Madi asked me what you look like the other day. She’s really excited to meet you. I showed her one of the drawings I did, just so she wouldn’t get you confused with someone else and crash-tackle John to the ground. Although, I think that’d be fairly entertaining.”

“Aww, Princess. You drew me?”

“I can just hear you voice, making fun of me. Yes, I drew you Bellamy. I drew everything that was important to me. All the things I never want to forget. Mostly you.”

The humour fell from his mind, replaced by a flooding, all-encasing, need. God, he missed her.

“Anyway, Madi is excited, but I don’t think she’s gonna beat me to you. Because, I swear to god and the sky and the trees and every single star in the fucking universe, the second I see you, I won’t be able to control myself, I’m going to run harder than I ever have before and once I have you in my arms, Bell, I’m never letting go again.”

“Good.” He said. “Don’t.”

Day One Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty-Five

“You didn’t come.”

“Why didn’t you come?”

“Bellamy, please come back. Please be alive.”

Day One Thousand Nine Hundred and Fifty-Seven

“One hundred and thirty-two days, Bell. You’ve had one hundred and thirty-two days since it was safe. It took Madi and I this entire week to find where the bunker should be. Everything is just wreckage. I don’t know if we’ll be able to get through all of it. So, we just have to wait, I guess. Once they open the door, the wreckage will fall in a certain spot, and we’ll know that’s where to dig. Just have to wait. Wait for them…wait for you. Bell…I feel like I’m going to spend the rest of my life waiting.”

“I’m sorry, Princess. Just a little longer. I’m coming.” He said, pushing down on that infernal respond button that served no purpose but to taunt him. “I promise.”

Day Two Thousand One Hundred and Ninety-Nine

“Bellamy…If you can hear me…If you’re alive, it’s been two thousand, one hundred and ninety-nine days since Praimfaya. I don’t know why I still do this every day. Maybe it’s my way of staying sane. Not forgetting who I am. Who I was. It’s been safe for you to come down for over a year now. Why haven’t you? The bunkers gone silent, too. We tried digging them out for a while, but…there was too much rubble. I haven’t made contact with them either.”

He looked at Raven, and she nodded. “We’re doing this, Bellamy. We’re ready to go, as soon as you are.

“Anyway, I still have hope. Tell Raven to aim for the one spot of green and you’ll find me.”

“Where would that be? Can you see it?”

“Yeah. Raven pointed out the window. “I know exactly where to go.”

“Then let’s go.” He smiled widely, and she smacked his arm excitedly. He turned back towards the speaker, and he knew this would be the last time. Soon, he would hear her voice, her real voice, not transmitted over miles and miles of space, but from her, she would be right there, he would hear her, and she would finally, finally, hear him.

The launch protocol sounded and they pulled away from the ring, more than ready to be done with this place, her voice echoing around the pod, reminding them why they were going back, and why they were alive, in the first place.

“The rest of the planet, from what I’ve seen, basically sucks.”

Smiles all around, even at the grim news. Even if it sucked, it would be better than space.

“Get ready for re-entry.” Raven warned, and they all held tight to their seatbelts.

“So…”

He barely heard her speaking over the sound of the pod plummeting through the atmosphere, too distracted by the clanging of metal pushing against the elements, until they finally slowed down and he could all be see her smile when she said, “Never mind. I see you.”

The landing was less than a minute, but it was the longest minute of Bellamys life, and he barely heard Ravens warning about the ground around the pod being hot, when he jumped out, skipping the ladder entirely, to look around, and where was she, where was she, where-

“Bellamy.” He heard it, even though it was less than a whisper, and then she was sprinting, sprinting like promised, towards him, and he was ready for that moment, that first moment, when she dove into his arms and he was ready, so ready, to catch her.

“Bellamy.” She said again, only it wasn’t a whisper, it was a prayer, a song, her hallelujah.

“I got you.” He ran his hands down her back, laced his fingers through her hair, held her as tight as he fucking could. “I see you, too.”

She trembled is his arms, nails digging through his space suit, into his back, and he thanked god and the sky and the trees and every fucking star in the universe for that feeling.

“I knew you were alive. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.” She sobbed. “I knew it. You had to be alive, I knew it.”

“I heard you.” He whispered into her hair. “Every day, I heard you.”

She leaned back, her arms not moving from where they were tied around his waist, but just enough to look him in the eye. “You did?”

“Every day.”

“Good.” She sniffed. “It would’ve been really embarrassing if I was talking to myself that entire time.”

He let out a laugh, in awe of her, that she was here, in his arms, holding him as tight as he was holding her.

Her eyes searched his face, the face she had been dreaming of for the last six years, the face she had drawn hundreds of times, traced in the dirt, described so many times the words almost didn’t seem real, but they were and he was, and she hadn’t forgotten a thing about his face, his beautiful face, with its beautiful freckles and beautiful nose and beautiful lips, and curse her, she needed to kiss him.

So she did, hard and soft, her lips pressed right against his, and they were everything she’d imagined, the feeling was everything she’d imagined as he kissed her back and held her tight and she knew he’d never leave her again.

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke ff #the 100 ff #bellarke #fics #our fics #by ruth #canonverse #angst #getting back in the writing guysss #pls tell me this is good

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