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reincarnated70sbaby · 3 years ago

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star crossed

-chapter one-

jimmy page x fem!OC

warnings: none!

A/N: so I’ve been toying with this idea for a while, and I’ve finally felt inspired enough to put it in motion!!

words: 2.4k (🤨)

star crossed masterlist

next chapter>>

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Fresh off the success of Led Zeppelin, the namesake band were already quick to get back into the studio and start recording material for a new album.After a long eight months of non-stop touring, the band already had a sizeable amount of rough demos, all written on the road or between concerts.

On a warm day in September, they reached Mystic Studios, and were finally able to transform the songs from paper to production. Arriving at the studio early, the band entered, not knowing what to expect as the manager and owner of the small studio, Tom, was quite vague on the equipment available.

“Finally, that car ride took fucking years” Bonzo complained, after being stuck in the small vehicle for almost an hour straight in the balmy Los Angeles climate.

“God damned Yankee traffic, they should really fix that, I mean, how is it normal to add an hour to your commute time every day?” Robert inquired, getting out of the sleek, black car.

“We’ll we’re here now, let’s just get down to recording eh?” Jonesy stated, ever being the optimist.

They walked through the wide double doors, upon which they met Tom. Jonesy, Bonzo and Robert chatted shortly with Tom, before continuing on with the tour of the studio. Jimmy, having been napping in the car ride, was stretching his legs while his band mates were entering the studio. When he entered, he collided with a flock of red hair, the owner of which stared up at him in shock.

“Uh, s-sorry Mr Page, didn’t see you there, hope your ok” Alice stuttered, unaware that the famous band were arriving this early in the morning.

“I would hope you’re ok, after all you’re the one who ended up on the floor” Jimmy chuckled, extending a hand to the young woman, Alice taking it and rearranging her disorganised stack of paper in her hands.

“Thank you, Mr Page” Alice replied, avoiding Jimmy’s eyes in embarrassment.

“Please, call me Jimmy, no need for the formalities” Jimmy replied coolly, slightly intrigued by the aura of mystery that surrounded her.

“Yeah okay, Jimmy, I should uh get going” Alice said with a smile, while pointing to a random direction behind her, her legs kicked into action and she walked quickly to the back office.

Jimmy stood there for a brief moment, liking how his name sounded in her voice, before getting his head straight and navigating his way to the recording booth.

“Ah, there he is, the famous Jimmy Page!” Tom declared as soon as Jimmy entered the mod room connected to the booth.

The rest of the band rolled their eyes, most publicists and managers often overly praised the guitarist, aware of his famous temperament and trying to stay in the good side.

Finally, once introductions and navigation were over, the band could finally start the recording process. They started off with a bit of a loose sesh, playing random riffs and melodies that came to them in the moment, as well as prepared verses and choruses written on the road. Then they decided to begin recording ‘The Lemon Song’.

Upon hearing the song playing, deciding since all of her small errands and messages were complete, Alice walked into the mod room.

“Hello, Alice, how y’a doing this morning?” Tom questioned, his heavy southern accent reverberating through the soundproofed room.

“Great, how’s the band? They sound great” Alice replied, still not sure of what to think of Tom, this only being her third week as an intern in the studio. She desperately needed the money, it was actually good pay considering all the work she did all day, part- receptionist, part assistant, part cleaner.

“Pretty good honey, now will you go get me a coffee from the store down the street? Two sugars and cream please” Tom commanded, obviously not up for conversation at the minute. Alice rolled her eyes behind his back, wishing she could be a bit more involved with the recording process. It was her dream after all, to be a sound engineer. That’s why she moved out to L.A, leaving everything and everyone she knew behind at home.

Walking down to the diner down the block, Ellie collected Toms usual of coffee and bagel with cream cheese, the order she knew by heart at this point. Wondering if the band would like coffee, she decided against it incase they weren’t on break yet. Knowing the work with of rockstars, they might only take a break at 10pm once they got into the groove of recording.

Returning to Mystic, Alice walked through the reception , straight to to mod room. When she entered, they entire band, along with the recent arrival of their infamous manager, Peter Grant, were all situated around the room, conversing over the song playing over.

“Working hard or hardly working boys, Hmm?” Alice quipped before handing Tom his coffee, before exiting.

“Who was that? I met her briefly today but I didn’t get anything out her” Jimmy inquired to Tom.

“Oh, that’s Alice, she’s our intern, great little thing, always round to help if anybody needs it” Tom replied curtly, looking up from the mixing table.

“Hmm, quite the looker isnt she eh?” Robert joked, noticing how bright her eyes went when she saw all the band in the control room.

“If you say so, but we keep it professional in this studio boys” Tom instructed, his fatherly side coming out, after all he did feel a bit responsible for Alice. If she didn’t get the job he could’ve only assumed that she would be out on the streets.

“Ah just some fun and games Tom, we’re very professional, as you know yourself” Bonzo joked, knowing he would only flirt with her as a joke, he was married after all.

“Right enough chatter about the bird, let’s get back to recording” Peter demanded, not there for gossiping.

———————————

The following days ensued similarly, the boys would record a track, dissect it in the booth, before recording any new ideas or improvements. The band often stayed early into the morning hours, determined to finish a song, not matter how long it took.

Once Alice arrived early the next week, Tom immediately asked for his usual order in the diner. On returning however, Tom asked Alice to stay in the control room.

“Alice, thank you for this” Tom said, gesturing to the coffee on the table, realising only recently that he wasn’t the nicest to Alice. Determined to work on the friendship with her, he decided it would best if she got more experience into the recording and mixing process, knowing she wanted to move into that career path.

“Of course, what did you want me for” Alice asked, unsure of her boss’s newfound friendliness.

“We’ll Alice, I’m just going to be straight with you here for a moment” Tom started, looking her in teh eyes with a stern face. Alice gulped, fearing she was going to be fired. She couldn’t fathom why though, she thought she did everything perfectly. Maybe she got his coffee order wrong and ordered it wrong each time? Maybe they didn’t need her anymore? She couldn’t understand that possibility, as the office was a lot more organised and certainly cleaner, after her arrival.

“Uhm, sure?” Alice replied uncertainly, not sure where the conversation was going.

“Well Alice” Alice gulped. “I know I haven’t been the friendliest to you, and I am aware of your aspirations to become a sound engineer, am I correct” Alice nodded quickly, keeping her eyes on Toms. “I am very thankful for everything you do in this studio, you are the backbone of us here, always picking up the grunt work when It needs to be done” Alice released a deep sigh, thankful that she wasn’t going to be fired.

“Oh phew, thank god, uh yeah, no thank you for keeping me on” Alice replied releasing a quick sigh.

“Keeping you on? You didn’t think I was going to fire you was I? Oh god Alice, I’m sorry for making you feel anxious, I could see you were getting a bit agitated” Tom said, trying to calm down the redhead.

“Thank god, anyway, you were saying” Alice continued, curious to know where he was going with his spiel.

“Oh yes, uh, where was I? Right, yes I want to break you into the engineering side of this job, if that’s ok with you. I’ll teach you the basics later, but you’ll be learning on your feet okay? It might be a bit overwhelming, to put it nicely, at first, with all the jargon and knowledge. But soon you’ll catch on, you’re a very bright girl so I know it won’t take too long” Tom finished, hoping he didn’t sound to brash.

“Oh my god, I can’t uh, thank you! I really appreciate this Tom, it’s my dream, wow!” Alice excitedly replied, finally happy to get down with the business. She sprung to her feet, and flew her arms around Tom. He didn’t really know what to do, but nevertheless he hugged her back, happy they were on an amiable relationship.

“Okay, uh, hate to say this, but could you just bring me in the extra tapes in the back room, then we can start the whole process when you get back, before the band get in obviously. Once they are in you will just shadow me ok?” Tom requested.

“Yeah of course, I’ll go get those now, anything else” Alice asked, not really wanted to do any more errands after weeks of doing them, but still being polite.

“No that should be fine” Tom answered, resisting the urge to ask her to get him a donut. He just reminded himself that it would be good to have a second engineer in the room, especially one he could train with his liking.

Alice walked to the back storage room, looking for more tapes. On entry, a small box on the bottom shelf caught her eye. On the top of the box ‘FRAGILE’ was printed in dark red letter. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, with the amount of dust covering it. Swiping away the dust on the label, it read ‘THEREMIN’. Alice eyes widened, she had heard of this instrument when in school, but hadn’t seen one in real life, as they were hard to master and not in fashion with any music genre currently.

Re-entering the mod room, she placed the extra tapes on the large table at the back of the room. Sitting down on the large swivel chard beside Tom, he started explaining the control board to her, as well and slang for certain keys and nobs. He continued until the band arrived, around 30 minutes later. Tom requested Alice stay in the control room, feeling she could be of benefit. Checking over her notes, she began to familiarise with the huge board. There must have been around 100 nobs and switches, all with different functions. Tom was impressed with Alice’s intellect, she responded well and added thoughtful questions about the mixing process. Tom could tell within a week she would be well roped into the process.

Taking a break, the band, Alice, Tom and Peter all sat down for lunch in teh small break room. There was only two tables so they conjoined them and ate together. Conversation flowed easily, everyone exchanging funny stories from the business, touring and random tidbits of memories.

“And I was sitting there with a frozen banana smoothie all down my front, absolutely frozen - I mean what are you supposed to do when you tell a girl no to her invitation to you coming back to her house, in god knows where, then she throws an fucking smoothie at you” Robert stated exasperatedly finishing off his sandwich

“Come on Rob, that was nearly five months ago, you would’ve thought you’d have forgotten it by now” Peter joked with a gently shove to Robert.

“Yeah I know, still gives me nightmares at night” Robert answered while playfully rolling his eyes.

“Same thing happened to me Robert, except, it was my wife and she was giving out shit to me for missing my daughter Grace’s dance recital” Tom added.

“Um, actually Tom, you missed Hannah’s recital, Graces is on next week. I think the handprint Cheryl left on the back of your head was a cute accessory hm?” Alice added, casually calling Tom out on his bluff.

The entire table went quite before bursting out in laughter. Alice panicked for a moment, fearing she went too far but calmed when they all laughed, joining in too.

“The bird is English? Why didn’t you tell us Tom?” Bonzo asked, directing his eyes to Alice.

“Excuse you, the bird is sitting right here” Alice said, pointing to herself.

“Well I thought you would’ve picked up on it by now John” Tom replied.

“Well uh, the drums, y’know” Bonzo answered, shaking his hands around his ears with a smirk plastered on his face. He was actually quite embarrassed that he overlooked her that much, she seemed like a talented girl behind the booth screen.

“Where you from love” Jonesy enquired kindly to Alice, opening up the conversation to her again.

“Well, I’m from a small village beside Heston. I used to live in France til I was five, as my mother is French” Alice replied with a smile, Jonesy was the one she talked to the most.

“Well would you look at that. How small the world is, you and Jim being from the same place. Mad world Hmm? How did someone from Heston like you end up in the city of angels?” Peter enquired, finding the whole situation rather funny, both Alice and Jimmy going slightly red.

“Um, I finished school at sixteen and moved out her shortly after, and have been here since” Alice answered, slightly embarrassed that she didn’t know she was reared in the same town as Jimmy Page.

“So you must be what, around 20 something?” Robert asked.

“No, I actually just turned 36 last month, I guess I look younger that I am” said Alice, trying to keep a straight face. She was met with dumbfounded faces of the Zeppelin lads. The boys looked between her and Tom, who kept his expression neutral, running with the joke.

“Gosh, you don’t look it’s, that’s for sure” Robert interrupted, still hoodwinked by the new information.

All of Alice’s self control was lost, she and Tom both bursting out simultaneously, wiping away tears after a coupole minutes of gut laughter.

“Of course I don’t, I’m only 18 for gods sake!”

“Right, enough small talk, let’s plan the songs you wanna record next” Tom interjected, stewing the conversation back to business.

“Well I think we should start with Whole Lotta Love and see how it goes” Jimmy piped up, only now joining the conversation, previously he had being staring at Alice, trying to place her as she looked familiar.

“Yeah I agree, that one probably needs the most work” Bonzo added, happy to get down to the complicated track.

Various forms of agreement were sounded from the rest of the band and staff. When they had finished up they all returned, energised to continue the recording the album.

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star crossed masterlist

ok so first chapter! this was going to be a prologue but I think I’ll just add another chapter before we time skip!!

again, please feel free to leave any criticism in the comments!! if anyone has any ideas or plot points they think would work, just message me and I’ll see what we can do!!

tag list - @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey

ask me if you want to be added!

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #my fic tag #frans fics

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wizardofrozz · 4 years ago

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Put to the Test

Summary: Bucky and Roz dig up memories that open old wounds.

Warnings: swearing, past violence, trauma, pregnancy loss (!), angst

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

A/N: Please be aware there may be some triggering topics in this chapter (specifically pregnancy loss). Please do not read if this is traumatic for you!

Chapter 6: Hydra’s Weapons

After hours of searching, we compiled a file of everything that mentioned us. Bruce read through it, trying to spare Bucky and me the pain of reliving everything and made a file of everything valuable.

“Okay, here we go. This is everything that can hopefully answer some questions. Are you guys ready?” Bruce softly asked.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Bucky sighed.

“You both arrived at the same Hydra base within a week of each other. There are records of the two of you talking through your cells, almost constantly. I guess that’s what gave your handlers the idea for what they ended up doing,” Bruce sifted through the papers on his desk.

“I still remember your adorable southern accent. That’s why I kept you talking; I couldn’t get enough,” Bucky smiled at the memory, squeezing my thigh.

“Your Brooklyn accent is what caught my attention. I still remember the last time I heard it,” the words turned to ash in my mouth when I brought up the memory of that day—the guards beating Bucky before they hauled him off. Bruce smiled slightly before going back to the file on his desk.

“There are hundreds of detailed records about the early experiments they performed on you two that were part of Project Master Man; you two weren’t the main focus, but they figured it could be hidden in those files. It turns out Hydra was trying to connect you two on a level that would make you the ultimate killing team,” Bruce looked at us. “It backfired, and they couldn’t do what they wanted; basically, you two couldn’t be programmed to the extent they needed. It didn’t go the way they wanted, but they were still able to create a fairly efficient killing team with the two of you after the serum and the DNA splicing,” Bruce started to look through the file for something specific and finally found it. “This part is probably going to be the hardest. So they noticed that the DNA work they did made you two inseparable and closer than they anticipated. This gave them the bright idea to encourage your relationship, wondering if they could find a way to make you both fertile again. They wanted to see if you could get pregnant with a Winter Soldier because the new soldiers were unpredictable. You two were exactly what they wanted, so they wanted to make more of you,” Bruce slowly looked over his shoulder. “The last entry that mentions Roz, at that base at least, is the day they froze Bucky for the first time. After numerous attempts, natural, I assume you get what I mean, and artificial attempts, Roz got pregnant. They logged going into the cell you two shared to find that you miscarried. They hauled Bucky off and moved you to a different base,” he looked up at you us. “Roz popped up at a different base not long after, and they started wiping her and using her on solo missions, the same way they did with you, Bucky. There is an extensive log of both of you separately that was more effective than when you were together, so I guess they decided it was better to keep you apart,” Bruce kept his gaze on his lap. I was desperately trying to take in everything Bruce said.

“That’s why you didn’t go through the Red Room graduation; they still hoped they could find a way to get you to give birth to a Winter Soldier,” Nat said softly.

“From other records I found, it looks like they kept trying to find a way to make it possible, even if you two were apart,” Bruce said, flipping through more files.

“Oh my god, the memory I keep seeing,” I said before I let out a sob, letting my head fall into my hands. Bucky hurried over to me, putting his arms around me, and for the first time, I didn’t notice the fireworks on my skin. I was too heartbroken; my chest physically hurt at the idea that Bucky and I had a chance to be parents. After a few seconds, it finally hit me; I remembered more of what happened leading up to that memory. I let out a loud gasp, causing everyone to look at me in concern.

“Doll, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked against the side of my head. I turned and put my lips against his ear, trying to hide the fact that I was talking.

“Do you remember what happened before they separated us, before that memory,” I whispered. I pulled away a little, and I saw him start to shake his head, but then I saw the truth hit him like a ton of bricks, and instantly tears rolled down his face. I shot out of my seat and ran out of the room; I didn’t realize I ran outside until I made it to the woods out in front of the compound. I turned in circles a few times, trying to decide what to do before dropping to my knees, hugging my stomach, sobbing so hard it hurt.

***

(Steve POV)

Roz ran out of the room so fast it didn’t register in our heads until Bucky was running after her, calling her name.

“What happened?” I asked, looking back and forth from the door to Nat.

“Steve, she just had to remember that they lost their baby. They are both going to mourn all over again,” Nat stood and grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet. “Come on, our best friends need us,” she smiled sadly before blowing a kiss to Bruce.

“Please come get me if they need anything; I’ll help however I can,” Bruce said softly. Nat and I ran through the compound, only finding Clint, Wanda, Vision, and Sam sitting in the kitchen.

“Hey, where’s the fire?” Sam said with his mouth full of French fries.

“Uh...” I looked at Nat for help, having no idea what to say.

“Can’t talk, bye,” Nat yelled as she pulled me out of the kitchen toward the main doors.

“What the fuck?” Clint yelled, but no one followed. We burst through the doors and saw their outlines at the edge of the woods; we ran towards them, hearing Roz’s heart-wrenching sobs as we got closer. I thought I heard Roz say something along the lines of, what did we do, but it was hard to tell when she was crying so hard. I caught Bucky’s attention as we got closer, seeing the crushing pain in his eyes as he cried with her. Nat walked closer to them and reached down to grab onto Roz’s arms.

“Come on, honey, we need to go inside, let’s go get you in the bath,” Nat whispered sweetly in her ear. Bucky reluctantly let her go with Nat, knowing she might be able to calm Roz down some. I walked over to my best friend, wishing I could tell him I knew how he felt, but I had no idea what must be going through his head. I watched my best friend on his hands and knees, audibly sobbing, and knew he didn’t need for me to tell him that I understood; he needed me to be there for him. I walked in front of him, bent down, and pulled him to his feet; he stood on his own for a moment before falling into me. I caught him, hugging my best friend, wishing I could do something to ease his pain.

“I’m so sorry, Buck,” I said as I hugged him, but it didn’t help.

“Steve,” he hiccupped through sobs.

“Don’t, don’t cause yourself more pain. Let’s go inside. Everyone’s in the kitchen, so we have to hurry,” I said softly.

“Christ,” he stood up straighter, eyes red and puffy. “Come on, I need to check on her,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. I put my arm over his shoulders and pulled him toward the compound, praying we didn’t run into anyone. My mind kept going back to hearing Roz saying, what did we do, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she was talking about. “What?” Bucky said softly.

“What?” I looked over at him, confused.

“You look lost in thought. What’s wrong?” Bucky said, lifting his head. I smiled slightly; he was dying inside and still wanted to know what was wrong with me.

“No, I just thought I heard Roz say something when Nat and I were walking over to you guys, that’s all,” I led him down the hall towards the elevator. His body stiffened at what I said; now, he was walking on his own, avoiding eye contact with me. “Buck, what is it?” I asked lightly.

“Nothing,” he said before picking up his pace. We got on the elevator and punched the button for our floor a little too hard.

“You can tell me,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. The elevator doors opened, and he walked out without saying anything. “Bucky,” I called.

“Leave it alone, Steve,” he called back.

“Why did she say, what did we do,” I called as I got closer. Bucky stopped in his tracks but wouldn’t turn around and look at me; I got close to him and put my hand on his shoulder again. “What was she talking about?” I pushed lightly.

“What, are you trying to say you think it was on purpose!” he yelled at me this time, catching me off guard. I took a step back, shocked at how angry he was all of a sudden.

“N-no… I-I..” I stammered, not sure what to say.

“You’re right, Steve,” I heard Roz’s voice. Bucky turned slowly, closing his eye and letting his head fall. I saw her standing in the doorway to Bucky’s room a few feet behind him in a robe; her eyes were still red, but she had stopped crying. “Come here, baby,” she reached for Bucky; he obeyed, instantly grabbing her in a hug. “Come on, Steve, we’ll explain in here,” she said, gesturing towards Bucky’s room.

***

(Roz POV)

I pulled Bucky into the bathroom, where the shower was running already. I saw Steve take a seat on Bucky’s bed next to Nat, both looking heartbroken as they sat in silence. I put my hands on either side of Bucky’s scruffy face and made him look me in the eyes; his beautiful blue eyes had so much pain in them, I thought it might never go away.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” I whispered back as I lightly kissed his lips. I gestured at his shoes, silently telling him to take them off; he kicked his shoes off then pulled his socks off too. I slid his jacket off his shoulders, then helped him pull his shirt over his head, then finally helping him slide out of his jeans. I slid my robe off, grabbed his hand, and made my way to the shower, pulling him with me. I stepped into the shower, waiting for him to join me after taking off his boxers; he stepped into the shower, making eye contact with me. We both took a step toward each other simultaneously, reaching for the each other, needing the comfort after realizing what we did all those years ago.

“Are we horrible people?” he said into the top of my head as we stood under the running water, holding each other.

“No, no honey, we aren’t. Right?” I didn’t sound any more convincing. We didn’t say anything else for a long time, but we also didn’t move; we just stood under the running water, crying as we mourned the life that could’ve been.

“Come on, let’s get out; they’re waiting for us,” Bucky finally said. I nodded but first grabbing my loofah and some soap to at least try and clean off. I handed Bucky the loofah so he could do the same; he made a face at the soap, making me giggle for a split second. “It smells girly,” he grumbled but started to clean himself off quickly. We rinsed off then shut the water off; Bucky stepped out and grabbed towels for both of us. I glanced at the sink and saw Nat brought clothes in for us and placed them on the counter in front of the mirror, where she drew a heart in the steam. Bucky was ready to walk into his room with a towel around his waist, but I threw his clean underwear at the back of his head.

“Nat grabbed clothes for us,” I said with a small smile.

“Should I feel violated that she went through my underwear drawer,” a slight smirk crept onto his face. I couldn’t help but laugh; even though I felt like crawling into a hole to die, I knew there was no one in the world that I’d rather work through this with. God Bless Nat; she grabbed my favorite plaid pajama pants and one of Bucky’s huge black shirts for me and a pair of sweats and a black tank top for Bucky; she is the greatest best friend. When I opened the bathroom door, I saw Nat and Steve’s heads snap up, both smiling at us. Nat crawled to the opposite side next to Steve so I could climb onto Bucky’s bed across from her and Bucky could sit on the edge next to me.

“Feel better?” Nat asked while reaching for my hand.

“Yeah, thank you for bringing us clothes,” I squeezed her hand and smiled.

“So what’s going on,” Nat squeezed my hand this time.

“We remembered how we lost the baby,” I whispered, feeling Bucky’s hand rest on my leg; the sparkler feeling was back. I thanked God; I was so scared it was gone.

“It was our fault,” Bucky whispered, looking at his lap.

“What do you mean,” Steve asked slowly.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting our baby to that life; we screamed and fought for hours because he disagreed,” I stammered before tears rolled down my cheeks again; I heard a sob escape Bucky’s lips.

“I couldn’t let our baby become a Winter Soldier or die if they weren’t born a Super Soldier, but I also couldn’t b-bear...” Bucky was coming undone as he spoke. He was shaking now, trying to hold in the sobs while he tried to explain what happened.

“I told him I’d do it myself,” I moved closer to Bucky.

“I realized I couldn’t let her live with doing it; I couldn’t let her live with the guilt. I decided that I’d live with it instead,” Bucky was able to even out his voice, but tears still rolled down his face.

“Bucky, I feel just as guilty. It is not all on you. Fuck, it’s not on either of us; this is on Hydra,” I whispered. “Please don’t think we’re horrible people, please,” I said, realizing what we just admitted.

“Oh honey, no, we don’t think that. I would’ve done the same thing; I couldn’t let those bastards get their hands on my baby. Please believe me when I say that decision was the best decision you two could’ve made as parents,” Nat said as she held mine and Bucky’s hands. Nat’s words crashed down on us simultaneously; Bucky turned to look at me with a sad smile.

“Parents? I mean, I guess technically we are,” I said, smiling back at Bucky. I saw Nat elbow Steve out of the corner of my eye; he gave her a dirty look before realizing what she was doing.

“I agree with Nat; please know that we love you both. I’m so proud of you both for making the hardest decision of your lives to spare that innocent life,” Steve said, smiling at us. We sat in Bucky’s room for hours, sharing memories that Bucky and I could remember, enjoying the beautiful stories of how our love started.

Series Masterlist | Chapter 7

Taglist:

@criminalyetminimal @kendallthesimp @marvelfansworld

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x ofc #bucky barnes x ofc #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #hydra #super soldier #hydra experiment #red room project #black widow project #hail hydra #avengers #the avengers

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plush-anon · 4 years ago

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Happy Halloween Scooby Doo! Review

Muahahhhahahhahahaha! Thanks to the Walmart tradition of stocking movies for sale weeks before the intended release date, I have myself a copy of what claims to be Scooby Doo’s FIRST Halloween adventure!

…in spite of movies like Witch’s Ghost and Goblin King, holiday specials like WNSD’s A Scooby Doo Halloween (which had a haunted Scarecrow too…), BCSD’s EL Bandito (for Dia de los Muertos - obvs not the same, but most companies act like it) and Halloween, The NSDM’s Halloween Hassle at Dracula’s Castle, and the DTV short film Scooby Doo and the Spooky Scarecrow (which, ironically enough, did NOT take the opportunity to feature Dr. Jonathan Crane).

So let us take a look now at Happy Halloween Scooby Doo! and see whether this film will be a graveyard smash of a treat, or a black licorice bomb of disappointment.

Full review (and SPOILERS TO GO WITH IT) are below the cut in my new review format; if all goes smoothly, I’ll go with this for future Scooby films.

WARNING: This review is very long.

One minor note before we begin: the Special Features actually include BCSD’s Halloween, WNSD’s A Scooby Doo Halloween, and PNSD’s Ghost Who’s Coming to Dinner

...so they were AWARE this was not the first Halloween adventure of the Scooby gang, and yet still use that tag line. Hm.

Still, kudos for including them - this’ll help boost the reasons to keep this movie, if it turns out to be a real Milk Dud of a movie *ba-dum tish* :D

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The movie starts off rather abruptly, actually - no slow pan over the setting, just WB Animation credit and BOOM, we’ve cut to a Halloween parade and Elvira is talking.

I’m of a mixed opinion including Elvira on top of having Bill Nye and a Batman Rogue - while she most certainly fits the Scooby aesthetic, it doesn’t feel as grand an impact after her weird little cameo in Return to Zombie Island (ugh) and I’m not sure how well the movie will balance her in wait a minute

wait just a

WAIT A MINUTE

Did - did that parade float skeleton just sing Crystal Cove as the town’s name?

oh no.

Oh No.

....also their song is terrible and they should feel terrible.

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Fred: We got him! Banh Mi Shop, second floor!

me: the heck is a Banh Mi Shop? *mild googling noises*

So I guess Jonathan Crane really had a craving for a Vietnamese sandwich before he enacted his Halloween scheme.

...you think he’s a lemongrass chicken type of guy or a BBQ pork guy? It’s always hard to guess at these things, esp when coffee and pumpkin spice aren’t on the table (as per fanon, of course)

-----

Velma: We have a flawless track record!

So I guess WB is just gonna ignore the past few DTV retcons established in 13 Ghosts and Return to Zombie Island?

I mean that rather defeats the purpose of them existing at all, but fcuk YEAH I can get behind throwing that retcon garbage out of canon!

And STAY OUT!!

------

Shaggy, talking about ghosts being real: I’m like the boy who cried wolf - I keep warning you but like, you won’t believe me until I finally get eaten!

Yet again, Warner Bros makes a wolf reference to Shaggy. Yet again, I am torn asunder between wanting werewolf!Shaggy in a new Scooby property, and fearing for the appearance of werewolf!Shaggy in a new Scooby property.

-------

Velma: Point is, being afraid is a waste of time!

Scarecrow, LITERALLY EXPLODING THROUGH A BRICK WALL three buildings away:

------

He’s floating through the air and t-posing to assert his dominance 🤣🤣🤣

Gods bless animation 😁

------

Daphne @ Shag and Scoob locking themselves in the van: Are you serial?

Me: wait, SERIAL? *re-reads captions* yup, that says “serial”.

Is this an editing mistake? I don’t think that works here…unless that’s supposed to be a joke on how they always do this. But then why would that be an irritating surprise, they literally do this EVERY episode 🙄

-------

Oh hey, Red Herring’s Party Screams truck has Red Herring running out of it

Could this be a hint to how the story goes? The villain appearing on a literal Red Herring?

Naaaaaah, WB’s not THAT smart

-------

So if we take @captainbaddecisions crack theory on Jonathan Crane being Shaggy’s uncle seriously, does this mean that Jonathan is using magic to fly, float fear toxin orbs around himself, and making things explode, a la the family trait of Crack Theory A?

Logically he’s probs using wires or magnets or some shit, but it’s a fun thought to entertain 😁

------

Welp, we finally get the opening credits! … with Jonathan Crane smashing through the Mystery Machine’s windshield, set to a slow poppy song straight from the 60s, and spewing the title of the film out in glittery pink mist.

All the while Scooby and Shaggy throw candy at each other, deliberately obtuse to the cloud of fear toxin enveloping their friends and the townsfolk, the steady destruction of the Mystery Machine they’re laying in as multiple cars crash into it and send it spiraling, and the general mayhem and destruction that Scarecrow is causing

Never change, guys, never change

--------

I just choked on my lemonade

There’s an article plastered to the roof of the Mystery Machine titled “Talking Dog Confounds, Ignites Ethics Debate Over Dog Labor”

ahahahahaha

-------

Annnnnnnnd there goes the Mystery Machine, tumbling in the air and over the roads with Shaggy and Scooby still inside without seat belts. Will they perish in this horrible road accident? Will Death finally come to claim them at last?

Of course not. This is Shaggy and Scooby we’re talking about - I’m almost positive they can survive anything up to and including a nuclear bomb. This is child’s play to them.

-------

So they “capture” Scarecrow… by pinning his cape to a tree with crossbow bolts.

And they do not try to at least tie up his arms or his hands in ANY capacity.

JUST the cape.

...you know, Velma, for a team with a “flawless” track record, you guys are making a hecking TON of mistakes in facing against one of Batman’s ROGUES GALLERY, ESPECIALLY with no Batman in sight, good freakin’ grief. 😩

------

Yaaaaaaaaas, this Scarecrow design is LUSH

He’s got the lank, the height, the BTAS costume colors, the elongated face with beaky nose and pointed chin and angular cheekbones, the eyebags like Gucci, the furrowed brow… honestly the only thing missing is the more reddish color hair, and even that isn’t mandatory. I love 😍

Not to mention the HOT DAYUM voice he has - low and velvet rough and so godsdamned particular in a way that could either tie in to obscuring a southern accent as in fanon or just as a stringent academic, oh my yes. He’s voiced by someone called Dwight Schultz, who’s most well known for playing Captain ‘Howling Mad’ Murdock in the OG A-Team show, and someone called Reginald Barclay in Star Trek TNG and Voyager, if any of y’all know that character in particular.

And of course, the first line he says is a delightfully wry “Oh, but I AM getting away with it,” with the sort of smirk that absolutely lends credence to why he’s a threat to Batman, and not some simpering wimp that can be defeated with some crossbow bolts in a tree.

I think I’m going to enjoy this movie at least somewhat, so long as we get to see him 🥰🥰🥰

(tho on a side note: Daphne why on EARTH are you trying to film Crane saying the meddling kids line? Do you have a video compilation of past villains who’ve done that, and you hope to add his to it? Was your phone damaged when you went up against the Riddler a few DTVs ago and you want a second shot at recording a Gotham Rogue saying it? Bc I don’t think a Gotham Rogue would be too pleased with seeing himself as a Mystery Meme on the Youtubes, you get what I’m saying?)

-------

Okay, so the floating orb things are explained away as fear toxin bomb drones somehow… despite looking nothing like the other drones and being much smaller with no visible propulsion, while also flying unassisted through and around objects to explode against places once flung…

(tho interesting note, none of them are aimed directly at the crowds, just behind them - odd, that)

But how did he heckin’ FLY at the beginning?

Yeah, they show him wearing wrist-mounted grappling hooks at the end of the intro song sequence, but they are NOWHERE IN SIGHT at the beginning - and I do mean in sight, since he emerges against a backdrop of flames. There was nothing there (see the T-pose above for further evidence), and nothing there when he FLEW THROUGH THE MYSTERY MACHINE’S WINDSHIELD AND FLEW BACK OUT AGAIN. And these things are pale silver, which stands out like crazy against the darker backgrounds, so no hand-wavy ‘they were always being used’ bullcrap we’ve seen in other movies.

Hmmm *scribbles in notepad* note to self, add notation concerning Crack Theory A on magic!Shaggy to “Uncle Crane” theory files - evidence denotes that Crane is able to fly (or at least hover in mid-air unassisted) for terrorization purposes. May boost strength of CTA by family association, lending credence to magic inheritance along the bloodline...

------

“Avocado Toast Generation”? Crane, I honestly don’t know if you really mean that, or if you understand just how much that phrase gets under any Millennial/Gen Z kid’s skin. Having seen multiple variations of your character, it really could swing either way (tho kudos on the dead switch idea - very nice 👍🏻)

Although this does lead to an interesting stand-off: Fred, upon seeing the town threatened with 3 days worth of fear toxin, immediately moves to let Crane go, while Velma stops him and refuses to consider compromising if it means Crane escapes. They both look legitimately frustrated at the other for taking the stance they do.

Fascinating~

------

Hmmm

Crane honey, I don’t know if your drones are made of flash paper and hope, or if Scooby and Shaggy are using the reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaally old candy (the stuff made about ~3 years ago most neighborhoods give out to the teenagers that knock around midnight on Halloween) to shoot them down, but either way you may wish to speak with the manufacturer about this

Then again, this IS Shaggy and Scooby - they probably could’ve spat marshmallows at the drones and brought them down with equal success and explosions

(and good on them for shooting those down! Atta boy 👍🏻)

-------

Aw dang it

1. They still have Crane captured and now in handcuffs (despite having… you know… NOT been bound by anything except cross bolts in his curtain cape thing)

2. Dwight Schultz has decided to pitch his voice higher and more nasally than what he has. Hopefully this is more of an incredulous sort of pitch than something that sticks for the rest of the movie, ugh.

Also, I think they’re framing the movie to be more Velma-centric this time around - she’s the one explaining to Crane how they tracked him down, apparently through a piece of fan mail he sent Elvira (is that the only reason she’s there? Also why was Velma examining random pieces of fan mail for toxins, Elvira probs gets hundreds a week irl) and it looks like they’re framing something up on how fear isn’t something you can pretend isn’t there. neat!

------

whajit

53rd?

53rd?!?!

ONLY 53rd?!?!?!?!

Boooo, Scarecrow’s WAY more popular than that! I call foul

---

Okay why is Daphne’s schtick so far to spit laaaaaaame slang after every sentence Velma says

I would rather this not be her schtick

Actually could she go back to filming mystery stuff, bc at least I can pretend it’ll build into the OG Zombie Island Daphne

----

Phew, his voice has returned to its low, raspy goodness

also, Crane needs to learn about personal space, good grief

(interesting clue brought up tho - Crane only steals tech that CAN’T leak his toxin, ergo it can’t be tracked until he releases it. Sensible use, given that Batman probs tracks it if it does.)

----

Velma: I’m not afraid of you, Crane. Fear is an illogical reaction to an imagined threat.

Crane:

-----

Crane: Fearless, then. Intelligent. Proud and stubborn. You remind me very much of the one person in this world I care about.

uhhhhhh

Yourself? Harley? Edward Nygma? Ichabod the raven? Idk, I’m honestly curious as to where this thread will go 🤔🤔🤔

-----

Fred, leaning against the Mystery Machine: Guys, it’s gonna be okay. She told me!

O_o

Fred? Honey? Are you sure you weren’t supposed to join Crane in the transport vehicle back to Arkham?

----

OH SWEET JESUS SHAGGY GREW YAOI HANDS

WHAT THE HECK

THAT’S WAY MORE UNNERVING THEN YOU GUYS NOT BEING AFRAID ANYMORE

(although the fact that they’re both unsettled by NOT constantly shaking or having their heart racing is honestly kind of heartbreaking. Y’all need therapy, good grief)

----

Shaggy and Scooby just chewed up candy (wrapper and all) to make themselves a Halloween costume of… what looks like barfed-up candy (ew)

Before then proceeding to dance so well that everyone around them also starts dancing in a 60s-70s era rainbow light show and giving them candy

I worry for these two sometimes - that kind of power seems to be getting to their head 😬😬😬

---

Oh hey, acid green toxic waste is spilling from an 18-wheeler onto the Fear Toxin drones and emitting a purple pink haze that envelops a pumpkin patch! That won’t do anything suspicious at all I bet!

(wait is Poison Ivy going to come into this at some point)

(also major kudos to the music here - very 80s horror synth, I like)

----

So the Pumpkins have grown faces, limbs, consciousness, the ability to fly and a lust for human flesh

And they appear to be led by the Pumpkin King of the Pumpkin Patch mentioned in the Charlie Brown Halloween special

He’s not as friendly as I pictured him being, sadly 😕

---

Why is this random ass cop coming up to FD&V to say that they’re in over their heads… AFTER the mystery’s been solved?

Like dude, you’re only making yourself suspicious at this point, go home

----

Huh, interesting - the gang are being interviewed for a tv news network while they’re considered the town heroes

Why am I getting bad vibes from this…

Eh, it’s probably nothing

----

Velma: {Shaggy and Scooby} are, um… REALLY into the Halloween spirit.

Shaggy: THIS ISN’T COSPLAY, VELMA!

I’m dying 😂

------

Holy Shit

Velma just snapped and went off on Shaggy and Scooby for acting scared and doing nothing to help wrap up the mystery

(even though these guys are the ONLY reason that the gang didn’t have to choose between setting Scarecrow free and poisoning the entire town for 3 days straight, but hey, what do I know - I’m just writing an in-depth reaction post to this movie and taking note of details like this, clearly I know nothing *eye roll*)

Last time I saw Velma critique the guys’ usual mystery solving shenanigans, it was much more low-key and without knowing they were nearby

But I’m sure that’s just a coincidence

------

What the

Bills?

Bills?!?!

Fred just mentioned that fixing the Mystery Machine was going to leave a hefty bill and that they may need to get dishwashing jobs to earn money

Which is more of a job you might expect a high schooler to get on the go and yet

They actually have to pay bills

How old are they here??!

------

wait a tic

THIS is how they introduce Bill Nye?

He just calls up Velma with no explanation other than Velma saying “Oh hey, it’s Bill Nye!”

I just - what?!?!

How do you know him so well that he can just pull up your number and call you, and then geT YOU A NEW FREAKING CAR LIKE

WHAT?!?!?!?

Was there a Scooby episode with him in the past two years where the fcuk did this come from

------

Also the car is dressed like Bill Nye

And he can talk to the gang directly as the car

So that he can solve mysteries with them whenever he wants

This… this was not what I was expecting to come about from the Bill Nye cameo

(alas, poor predictions of being Crane’s roommate, you will not come to pass this day) 😔

-------

Ooooo, purple haze throbbing on the horizon! That’s always a good sign of things to come! 😀

------

And now Daphne’s… asking Elvira to mentor her fashion wise. And Elvira’s taking her on as her unpaid intern/personal assistant.

Yooo, movie, can you pick a direction and stick with it for Daphne? You’ve gone from her spewing outdated slang to wanting a costume for trick-or-treating, and now this.

-------

Welp, now I can say I saw a giant pumpkin dog vore an old woman

I didn’t WANT to see that mind, but I guess I can say it now 😐

------

OH SHIT NO

IT TURNED HER INTO A FLYING PUMPKIN SHAPED LIKE HER FACE

ABSOLUTELY UNSETTLING, 0/10 WOULD NOT RECOMMEND

-------

At least we get a nice scene of Daphne kicking the pumpkins’ collective butt

Something normal

------

Elvira: WOW! You’re a regular Mary Sue!

*falls over cackling*

------

And now there’s a giant purple fissure opening up in the concrete to swallow the town of Crystal Cove whole

(good, i whisper softly into the darkness of my living room. Let it fall)

--------

Man, I feel so bad for this single father right now

He’s gotten wrapped up in all of this nonsense with his daughter, and he is just Distraught at being chased by Jackal Lanterns, having the town collapsing under his feet, and having to gorge jump in his sedan to get away from the worst of it

It’s okay, Mike Dad - we would feel the same way in your shoes

-------

Hologram Bill Nye is wearing Cat ears and cat whiskers/nose, and is cleaning his hands like a cat cleans its paws

Why was this the movie we found out Bill Nye was a furry

Why Warner Bros

Why would you inflict this upon us in a Scooby Doo-Scarecrow mystery

-------

Hey, can Jonathan Crane return now? The movie needs its dignity back.

------

A clue on the whys here - the town was built on top of a MASSIVE lithium deposit, with the talks to mine it being scrapped due to environmental concerns. That’s actually a decent lead in for why some

-------

Welp

The Jackal Lanterns just went full Mad Max with the Halloween Parade floats and cars

No, I don’t have any idea why either, just roll with it

-------

Nice, they confirmed that Fred’s full name is still Frederick Herman Jones XD

Also a great little action sequence with Daphne - while there’s not much movement, they frame the scene dynamically, with some good quick wordplay. Very nice.

--------

Velma has a mind palace

Aight

--------

Velma: Shaggy, I could kiss you!

Oh, to hear this as a child, when I still hardcore shipped Shelma *sigh*

------

Oh thank gods we’re going back to Scarecrow again

------

Shaggy ate some Scooby Snacks, leapt out of a moving vehicle, and onto the backs of two flying pumpkins that he promptly reined in to fly to Crane’s prison transport

...yet again, I am amazed at the sentences I am led to type for Scooby Doo DTVs

------

Ah, how very Hannibal Lector of you, Jon

Man, he actually looks very meek in normal clothes - red long-sleeved shirt and grey slacks

-----

Hmmm

So Crane ISN’T behind the Jackal Lanterns - in fact he’s outright befuddled by them. This means his whole spiel to Velma earlier about both of them being caught in the same trap was… metaphorical? The breakdown doesn’t actually go into WHY he thinks they’re in the same trap - Crane’s whole schtick is tied to accepting fear, not denying it, so why would they be the same?

Either way, someone is using both him and Mystery Inc to do something to Crystal Cove (please be Red Herring, please be Red Herring, please be Red Herring)

Actually, that reference at the beginning really WAS a red herring - they framed it as being Jon the whole time when it wasn’t. Kudos!

Additional kudos to having Jon be seen more out of mask than in - he is a looker, and I aim to look as much as I can ;)

-------

Annnnd Daphne’s now trying to convince Elvira to switch clothes with her

I don’t get it - how on earth did we get from Daphne trying to find a good costume for trick-or-treating to asking Elvira to switch oh there it is nevermind.

-----

There is literally a scene where a giant buzzsaw is slicing towards Crane

and he just

stares at it

going “huh, that’s different”

And I LOVE IT

------

And here we have another fascinating scene: Velma going to free Crane from his cell, as Daphne tells her to just leave him to die by pumpkin

I’m wondering if they meant to draw a parallel between the two here - Velma starts by reciting a nursery rhyme, then overcoming her fears in order to release madness to take control. It’s not done very cleanly - mainly bc we barely have any time with Crane in this movie - but I wonder if they meant to insinuate that Crane was like Velma once, where he refused to acknowledge he was afraid, which caused him to lose focus on his initial goals

Idk, ignore my ramblings

---

Crane, smirking: I’ll need my personal effects - extenuating circumstances.

Me, fanning myself: I’ll need you to remove yours first

(i am not even kidding, Crane is an absolute DILF in this movie and it flusters me. Stupid sexy animation)

---

YAAAAAAAAAAASSSSS

SCARECROW TO THE MOTHERFCUKING RESCUE BABY, SCYTHE AND FCUKING ALL!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

----

FCUK YEAH THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

HE HAS A DANCE LIKE QUALITY WITH SOME OF HIS FIGHTING MOVES

VIOLENT DANCING BRINGS THE GIANT JACKAL LANTERN DOWN BABY

THEN HE BACKFLIPS AND GYMNASTIC SWINGS INTO THE VAN

ROCK IT SCARECROW FCUKING ROCK IT

(minor note here, but the subtitles show Dr. Crane instead of Scarecrow - unsure if that’s more that the movie calls him Dr Crane or if it indicates he’s acting more heroic than villainous)

---

GODDAMNIT

THE GIANT PUMPKIN SNUCK VINES INTO THE VAN AND STOLE HIM BACK

WHEN CRANE WAS... wearing a seatbelt before, but isn’t now.

...

BOOOOO

---

Yet again, we find a Scooby movie that attempts character development, but with Velma

Unlike Shaggy’s Showdown however, I’m mixed on how successful it is.

For starters, Velma hasn’t been this cocksure in other DTVs we’ve seen, so it’s a bit odd to see it now. While not 100% out of place - after all, the gang DID capture one of Batman’s Rogues Gallery on their own - it still feels a touch forced. Compare that to Shaggy’s Showdown, where Shaggy has ALWAYS been a coward (one that, in more recent years, writers have had willing to abandon his friends for safety), so the character development there feels more natural.

The progression of events with Velma actually work somewhat okay - but again, here’s where past DTVs come to bite them in the ass. The past handful have had the gang be wrong, have had them fail, or catch the wrong guy. This makes Velma’s attitude here at odds with the other films, something that sticks more due to a character that’s appeared in the past few films as a minor inconvenience - a Sheriff who keeps telling the gang not to interfere, they’re doing things wrong, etc. If this had been a character who was completely wrong in the past AND SHOWN TO BE WRONG FOR HIS OPINIONS, while the gang never guessed wrong, this would work much better. Unfortunately, it doesn’t, and here we are.

I think it would have flowed better if Velma’s cockiness came solely from catching Crane on their own. Have a random cop character or reporter or whatever (just not the recurring cop), insinuate that the gang is in too deep with Scarecrow, that he should be handled by the adults or professionals or whatever. Velma could bristle, overcompensate, and THEN fall from her pedestal like we see, reach out to the gang and commiserate over feeling scared, and grow. Again, it’s not too far to reach for, but they handle it poorly; as a result, the outcome feels a little more shoehorned in.

It’s an honest shame, bc we haven’t had a Velma centered story since Frankencreepy, and we all remember what a hideous fcuking mess THAT was *shudders*. Still, it somewhat gets its point across, I guess.

---

Fred why did you rip your shirt off

Actually better question why do you not have nipples

---

Awwwwwww

Velma just apologized to Shag and Scoob for snapping at them earlier, and admits how she doesn’t appreciate how much they make Mystery Inc what it is

Also she eats a Scooby Snack with them and admits they taste pretty good

----

Huh

Velma’s mind palace is the Mystery Machine driving through space

Also Shaggy and Scooby are able to telepathically follow her in and communicate with her

Literally, they actually followed her into her head telepathically, and show her their memories of things she hasn’t gotten to see tonight (while also possibly enhancing her ability to remember things, given how much DETAIL she captures perfectly of things that she would maybe have glimpsed in a millisecond AT MOST)

...another tally for Crack Theory A of magic! Shaggy and Scooby *scribbles*

-------

Fred, be very very thankful that there are no people operating those pumpkins in person cause uhhhh

Those traps would be spraying red instead of orange

------

Another weird music choice - the gang goes up to fight the Jackal Lanterns, but the music is the same 60s bubble we heard earlier

Not terribly atmospheric, really

(wouldn’t a Smashing Pumpkins cover of Scooby Doo be more appropriate, or did you guys spend all your money on hiring Elvira and Bill Nye?)

------

Dang

Velma just admitted her fears and jumped into the mouth of the Mega Pumpkin, before getting Fred to use the app from earlier to shut it down, revealing it to be a giant drone surrounded by smaller pumpkin drones

This feels… counterintuitive, but I’ll try to explain at the end

---

Okay

I’ll admit it

The Whodunnit is actually pretty decent in concept

There was a sprinkling of tidbits that could be assembled for the final conclusion and still make a decent amount of sense, all to find the sheriff doing it

Only he isn’t a sheriff

He’s a former Tech CEO who was also busted by the gang years ago in a case the Sheriff kept bringing up throughout the movie - due to his prison sentence, he lost more than half his wealth and the opportunity to expand it further with the Crystal Cove Lithium deposits

He was also someone who sold tech to Crane for his fear toxin distribution, where he got the idea to frame him for it

(tho on a side note, Crane is an absolute dork and a terrible liar - just look at the email he sent XD and that profile pic, my gods)

He deliberately picked at the gang for the past few DTVs (specifically 2: Return to Zombie Island and Curse of the 13th Ghost) to fracture their confidence, undermine them, etc - all so that in one fell swoop, he could retake his fortune, frighten everyone in town away from the mines so they couldn’t interfere, frighten away the gang (while also ruining their reputation as mystery solvers), and take Crane off the docket so he couldn’t identify the CEO when he pretended to be the sheriff

This… is actually a pretty damn good plan, for a Scooby villain. He was patient, manipulative, and clever, learning how best to tie up loose ends and win back what he lost. A clever revenge story that came so close to coming to fruition, and could have honestly been sold convincingly…

...if it hadn’t been done so much better in Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed.

Yeeeaaaah, this movie basically lifts the rough framework up from that one - past mystery villain comes back to attack the gang and ruin their reputation (tho this one decides to also make his fortune back and tie up loose ends with former criminal contacts, a la Crane). Gang is embarrassed in front of the news folk, another villain is framed for it (like Old Man Wickles of the Black Knight fame), and the gang must reconcile to foil the villain for good.

Although it also??? Merges elements of Frankencreepy in it?? The movie is focused on Velma, who is struggling to admit when she’s wrong (which ties into her fear, somehow… I’ll think on that point a little) and things purportedly go haywire when she won’t bend. This… isn’t illustrated as well here, since there’s very little direct cause-and-effect from Velma’s actions that would prove this point - that insisting her way is the right, best, and therefore only way to go ends up making things worse.

As much as I despised Frankencreepy (and I DESPISED IT), it did do that part well - showing that refusing to budge on something can lead to you hurting your friends (literally, in that one), and that admitting you were wrong and need help isn’t the end of the world.

(that movie also had former villains returning to gain vengeance upon the gang using psychological warfare, hm - may need to go over that one again, unfortunately).

It’s a shame, too - the basic elements for this plot are all here, they just need to be polished and reworked a bit to make a really fascinating movie.

------

Anyways, back to the asshat CEO who just… faked being a sheriff. Because white people can get away with that so long as they have the outfit and the car *throws up hands* (the sad part is this is probably something that actually happens)

As he drives away we see a familiar silhouette looming in the cornfields, watching him approach

Velma had Bill Nye on speaker, so he could record the entire confession for the federal officers nearby (who were taking Scarecrow back to Arkham), and track the phone signal to his exact location

And right as his holographic call cuts out, we see the shadow of a Scarecrow looming over him, causing him to scream.

When the feds arrive at his final location, both his body and the money have vanished. The car still sits, engine running, before the crows leering over him from the field vanish into the sky.

-------

Now that he’s dead, the gang walks and finds themselves at a Halloween party, with friendly faces and good food. The mystery is solved, though the culprit may never be found again.

Then Daphne admits to NOT trying to steal Elvira’s costume for Halloween, but instead trying to steal Elvira’s identity and replace her.

Something that she’s apparently nearly gotten away with on past mysteries working with Phillis Diller

*sighs* movie, why couldn’t you just stick to the costume schtick? This is just… so much worse.

-----

From there, Elvira walks off to wrap things up, reveal the monster face on the back of her head sans wig (which was also a monkey), and start the credits, where we see the gang working to bring the Mystery Machine back to its former glory a la Frankenstein pastiche.

This movie… this movie is a hot mess, but at least it’s an OKAY hot mess.

It really does feel like someone started writing a decent Velma-focused movie concerning the Scarecrow and a past Mystery Inc villain interfering, but was bogged down by notes from higher-ups: Wait! Write in Elvira! Also write in Bill Nye! Hey, let’s have a Mad Max car chase with the Jackal Lanterns! And have Daphne obsessed with literally becoming Elvira! Also make reference to things that we’ll insist be explained this way instead of a way that makes sense! Great!

(seriously tho, we never find out who Crane cares about most that reminds him of Velma, what the heck?)

It’s like two or three different scripts were smooshed together without being cleaned up - stuff is said that doesn’t get resolved, the celebrity guests don’t get to breathe much and feel squished together, and the build-up for the villain feels… less impactful, even knowing that he’s been in the past two films.

It might have worked if he’d been in… let’s say like 5 or 6 DTVs in a row, speaking roles for dissing the gang growing in each (ex start with “Good job kids! But maybe next time, leave it to the professionals, okay?” and growing more bitter from there), but only 2 feels kind of meh. Still, I do appreciate the clues we got to collect together, and they all work in the final breakdown of the scheme - some DTVs can feel like they pull stuff completely out of nowhere, so kudos there.

I appreciate what they wanted to do with Velma - give her a character development arc similar to Shaggy’s in Shaggy’s Showdown. Unfortunately, it wasn’t set up quite so neatly: they blended her ‘refusal to admit fear’ with her overconfidence that she was always right, and it led to a weird conclusion. To face her fears, she leapt into the Giant Pumpkin, which… proved that she was right all along about it being fake, and that solves things somehow. It doesn’t address how she can get something wrong sometimes, it doesn’t really address what she’s afraid of (which is honestly quite good: she’s afraid of failing in a way that allows bad guys to escape justice and in a way that hurts her friends), it’s just a bit of a mess. Points for aiming the focus the right way (and in a way that DOESN’T sexualize the underage teenage girl, unlike some DTVs cough cough Frankencreepy cough cough), but it’s very very messy how it goes about it.

The movie actually balanced pretty well for the whole gang - no excessive focus on one leaving the rest in the dust (too much at least - Fred was a touch underdeveloped, but nowhere near as annoying as past iterations have been. Shaggy and Scooby were kind of meh in some places but great in others, while Daphne was just odd. I think they were trying to recapture the BCSD Daphne characterization, but they failed. Still, she did spend some good time kicking ass with the pumpkins, so that was fun.

Now for the Rogue, Jonathan Crane. If you like Crane, this movie gives you: maniacal Scarecrow, calm and creepy Crane, a brief glimpse at fanboy!Crane (he admits in his own awkward way that he’s a fan of Elvira, and later tells her he loves her work - it’s fun), and (best of all for me) a heroic Crane - one who helps the protagonists and ends up kicking ass pretty damn well, brief as it was. And while DILF Crane is always a treat, he feels underutilized in this. In comparison, Scooby Doo/Batman Brave and the Bold really utilized a lot of different aspects of Riddler, to the point he actually does feel pretty menacing by the third act. It’s a shame we don’t quite get that with Crane, but I do love seeing him 1. More out of mask, and 2. Acting as a good guy (in his own way), so he’s enjoyable on the whole.

I kind of wish that the whole movie was spent more with Crane, but again, the script is a bit of a mess on this part - the fact that he’s not completely screwed over is a goddamn miracle.

Elvira was… okay. She didn’t have much of a purpose beyond getting the plot started and giving Daphne some hooks to play off of. Bill Nye (abrupt as his introduction was) did provide some necessary elements to the mystery, as well as the tech; he wasn’t too bad by the end. (still a touch bitter we didn’t get ex roommate Nye, but hey, what can you do)

Humor was… mixed. Some good, some meh, but very few long enough to feel painful. Some bits felt extraneous at times, but they did help to build to the conclusion, so points for effort.

At the end of the day though, I’m probably keeping this more for Jonathan Crane than anyone else. It does have a lot of fanfic potential tho 🤔🤔🤔

That’s all from me tonight, folks! Hope you enjoyed my own little breakdown of the movie.

#happy halloween scooby doo #plush reviews: final thoughts #jonathan crane #scarecrow #spoilers

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writer-rochelle · 5 years ago

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Statesman: Ablaze Ch.2: Off the Grid

(a/n: here is chapter 2 of the one thing im super frickin proud of. thank you @pomelloe-me for bullying me in our shared google doc to make sure i get things done. ily <3)

“Can you leave the window down? My car smells like fucking fried chicken, and while it may be your fave food it's not mine.” Alicia said, shutting her car engine off. Pom chuckled, obliging her friend’s request. Both women stretched, their joints popping, as they clambered out of the small car and started their walk up the small driveway.

The Agents had opted to live as far away from the brewery as they could, wanting to make a safe and work free environment for them to escape to. It was a pale green 3 story victorian house with white accents, and a small front porch. Two white rocking chairs moved slightly in the wind, and a white porch swing on the far right end swayed with them. A black and white rip n dip doormat sat under a black double front door, the words "go away" floated next to a white cat flipping any visitors off. A purchase Pom had made while online shopping in the wee early hours of the night. One that Alicia and Dena had found rather hilarious and Carey had simply shaken her head.

“I’m gonna murder your boyfriend, he’s as dumb as a fucking rock, I swear it!” Alicia exclaimed, walking towards the front door of the shared home, twisting her head this way and that in a vain attempt to pop her still stiff neck. She could hear Pom curse at her under her breath. “What was that? Use your words miss ma’am” Alicia teased, knowing Tequila was a nuisance for Pom. He had been Alicia's friend first, and one-day on a whim she had invited them to a carnival accompanying the rodeo that was in town. Soon, the three of them were inseparable. Tequila however soon developed feelings for Pom, his endless pining no secret to anyone. The ex-rodeo clown meant well, and when he wasn't trying to convince the southern beauty to go two-stepping with him, the two got along very well.

“I said he ain’t my fuckin’ boyfriend,” Pom responded, she was frustrated but smiled all the same. She reciprocated the crush but put her job as a Statesman agent first. She refused to let anyone or anything jeopardize her career. The brunette removed the brown cowboy hat sitting on her head, using it to fan herself in the heat, waiting for Alicia to unlock the front door.

“Whatever you say!” Alicia sang, throwing the door open. Pom followed the woman into the entryway, shutting and locking the door behind her. The smell of delicious food wafted towards where the two girls stood, as they began dispensing the arsenal of personal weapons they had into their designated shelves in the entryway. Pom hung her hat on the hook on the wall next to the door. Alicia groaned, taking her box braids out of the ponytail she had forced them into, massaging her scalp.

"I don't know how you can stand having those things pulled back like that!" Pom said, emptying her pistols before placing them back in their holsters.

"Trust me, one I'm gonna shave my head, and I only kept them in because I spent so much on them for that one assignment. Why waste money? Carey Ann, is that your cooking I smell?" Alicia called, making her way further into the house. She paused a moment, kicking her shoes off in the mudroom off to the left.

“Yup! I’m in the kitchen, y’all! Make sure you leave your shoes in that mudroom, I just swept!”’ Carey called out to them from the direction of the kitchen.

Whatever she had been making since she had come home had made the house warm and cozy, the warmth of the oven lightly combating the aircon. Carey was the oldest of the four women living in that house. She had recently moved to New York, assisting Agent Whiskey in running the New York office. Occasionally, she would return to their humble abode in Kentucky. Most household responsibilities fell on her, their other roommate Dena had been away for almost a year on assignment in Europe seeking out an alleged brother agency. Usually, Pom and Alicia were left to their own devices, sticking to take-out orders, or the occasional soup and grilled cheese combo Alicia cooked up. It wasn't often Alicia or Pom cooked, let alone cleaned. It was nice to have their Agent Mom back in town.

Pom hastily unzipped the sides of her boots, sliding them off to reveal her cute space patterned socks, ‘The best feeling ever is taking your shoes off after a fuckin’ long day of work.’ she thought to herself. Pom’s hair stuck up in odd angles, no secret the hat that had been resting on her head all day. She combed her fingers through it, the brown tresses fell to her shoulders in thick, uncontrollable waves.

“It’s good to see you here, and not on a fucking screen, ma’am.” Alicia snooped through the pots on the stove, hungrily eyeing Carey’s homemade fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mac & cheese warming idly on the stove. Alicia only two kinds of southern cooking, her Grandma Beaulah's, and Carey's (a close second).

"Yeah, bitch. I thought you might have forgotten about us.” Pom called out from the living room, where she had placed herself comfortably down on the couch, flicking through something on her phone. She sighed, still no response from Whiskey. Had she upset him without realizing it? ‘Fuckin’ Whiskey, I wish he could’ve told me instead of ignoring me like a dumbass.’ she thought, shutting off her phone and tossing it to the other end of the couch.

“Well, if y’all acted 24 and 25 years old and not little children, you wouldn’t need me to come home to cook and clean for y’all. Dena hasn’t even been here and she still keeps her room clean!” Carey teased, swatting Alicia’s hands away from the food. Even if she had been present, Dena and Carey were definitely the neatest of the four. Carey had tried in vain to get the other two younger women to help, even going so far as to leave everything to pile up. It had taken a roach crawling across Alicia's face one night in her sleep to finally get them to step up. Now they kept a chore list on a dry erase board in the laundry room, and the katsaridaphobic agent no longer left dirty dishes in her room.

“Girl, they’re clean. And for the record, Pom and I do take care of ourselves! For example, I did all the laundry in the house and Pom got rid of that possum that was living in the roof. Perfectly responsible.” Alicia said smugly, giggling as Pom chimed in quietly from her spot on the couch about the ‘Cunt ass possum that tried to eat her fucking face even though she had given him a slice of ham as a fucking peace offering headass’.

“Pom, why don’t you come join us instead of mumbling with your colorful vocabulary from the couch; the food is ready.” Carey laughed, shaking her head at her roommate's antics. She grabbed the rolls out the oven, before removing her apron and oven mitts. She moved to pull a pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge, and then stood back proudly to admire her work. Dinner was served.

“You sound like my fuckin’ mom,” Pom uttered as she hoisted herself up from the couch, making her way into the kitchen to wash her hands.

“I may as well be. But enough bickering, I missed y'all two!” Carey said, carrying her plate of food to the table where Alicia already sat eating.

“I’m not really hankerin’ for anything, but thanks, Carey. I love you…fuck head.” Pom told Carey with her unique version of affection, leaning against the island in the kitchen and removing her rusty-colored jacket from her body. Pom's jokes and colorful nicknames were her own brand of love, and while it was offputting the first time she called you something like "hoe bag", you learned to acknowledge the underlying "I love you".

“Well at least stay and sit with us, I’ve got something to tell y’all,” Carey said, patting the chair next to her. She needed to tell somebody about how she and Jack had recently started seeing each other. She figured he had already told Tequila, and felt justified in telling the girls. Pom sat down in the chair with a grunt after placing her jacket on the table.

“Oh do tell, this wouldn’t happen to do with a certain mustached cowboy would it?” Alicia batted her eyelids, and suggestively wiggled her eyebrows. Pom knew exactly what this conversation was going to lead to. She wasn’t a fucking idiot; she noticed every small exchange between Carey and Whiskey, it was just something she had an eye for. The two had known each other for over two years and had recently started to go out with each other seriously. It was a wonder they hadn't started fooling around sooner.

“W-well...about that” Carey giggled nervously, maybe she wouldn’t tell them after all.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Carey Ann! Are you fucking Ole Jack Daniels?!” Alicia exclaimed, pointing her fork accusingly at the shorter Agent. Pom couldn’t help herself from letting out a loud chuckle, moving her long legs to sit cross-legged on the chair.

“Alright, fine. Whiskey and I may or may not have been seeing each other exclusively for the past year while I’ve been back and forth from New York.” Carey said, casually taking a sip from her glass of tea, the clinking ice cubes being the only sound for a brief moment.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” Agent Rum pronounced with great amusement, looking over at Carey with a menacing smile.

“YAS BITCH, OH MY GOD! Tell us everything, and I do mean everything!” Alicia said, standing up and playfully pulling Carey into a noogie.

The girls laughed, Carey pushed Alicia back into her chair before smoothing out her blonde curly hair. Carey was glad that the girls hadn’t reacted negatively like she thought they would. She had missed this comradery with the girls while staying in New York; she leaned forward fully retelling everything that had been happening. It was nice to finally be home.

* * * * *

Pom Graham was awake earlier than the rest of her housemates, as usual. Most nights she would stay up until midnight listening to her favorite kinds of music and trying to gain motivation to do her beloved hobby of painting. But she never slept for long as her natural body clock woke her up just a few short hours after she fell asleep. Still, she was always filled with so much energy.

Pom tip-toed out of her room and down the flight of stairs in hopes of not waking her friends. She was already dressed in her usual outfit that the others rarely saw her out of. The living space downstairs was decorated with rustic, but comfortable furniture and pots of greenery scattered around. Photographs and posters could be found on the walls.

She threw herself on to the couch in front of the large, technologically advanced television. With a press of a button on the remote, the screen came to life with the morning news channel. ‘Boring.’ Pom thought, ‘Carey must have been watching it last.’

“The daughter of beloved Kentucky senator, Xavier Dobios, is still missing and it’s sending everybody into quite the state of distress…..” Said the monotone voice of the news reporter on the TV. Pom scoffed at his words.

“Fuck off, ‘beloved my ass’” Pom returned in a sharp whisper, smiling with amusement. She clicked another button and the kid’s channel started to play. Pom never really liked to watch television, but when she did, she would always turn on the channel that entertained her most.

“Good morning, Pomegranate.” Came Carey’s sweet but groggy voice from the doorway leading into the kitchen. Carey was dressed in cute, pink pajamas and her hair was quite the mess. She let out a big yawn.

“Mornin’, you’re up early,” Pom responded, turning her head to give Carey a nice smile. Carey walked back into the kitchen to start preparing coffee and breakfast for herself and her housemates.

“What do you want for breakfast? And I know you don’t like coffee, so what do you want to drink?” Carey asked from the kitchen to Pom. She sat there thinking for a moment before answering.

“Peanut butter toast. And some water. Bless your heart, Carey.” Pom returned gently. Carey was surprised to see how calm she was. She was used to seeing the hot-tempered, mischievous, and swearing version of Pom. But she appreciated seeing this side to her too because Carey knew that’s who she really is. Pom never failed to make her laugh and smile.

Carey made food and coffee with the sound of Pom watching the kid’s channel playing in the background. Alicia probably wasn’t going to be awake for a few more hours but Carey poured her a cup of warm coffee just in case.

“I don’t know how you have so much energy all the time, Pom,” Carey said as she sat on the couch next to Pom, handing her the plate of peanut butter toast and a glass of water. She sipped on her own cup of coffee just the way she liked it.

“I’ve consumed so much fuckin’ sugar in my life that I’m constantly on a sugar high.” Pom joked to her friend, smiling. Carey laughed, the sound mixing the soft sounds of the old Victorian settling over them. It wasn’t often they got a morning to themselves, and they knew they’d have to head to work soon, but for now, HQ could wait.

“GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!” Alicia yelled, bounding in the kitchen shattering the quiet moment the girls had settled into with their breakfast. Carey and Pom sighed, watching as she effortlessly leaped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her gray sweatpants slung low on her hips, her lilac sleep shirt wrinkled, and her braids still wrapped up in the bonnet on her head; she looked crazy.

“What in Sam Hill are you doing?!” Carey said, standing up and rushing to try and push the taller woman off.

“I have some good news, bitches! Dena’s coming home sooner than we thought!” Alicia was elated, it had been almost two months since Agent Sangria had been in contact with Statesman, and more importantly her roommates. She had been advised to keep all communications, few and far in between. Should there be a brother agency, it would be in Statesman's best interest to not alert them of their presence in their territory; what if they were a rogue organization? The return of the lively Latina was definitely a cause for celebration.

“Wait, how do you know?” Carey asked, realizing that Alicia wasn’t budging off her pedestal. She looked over at Pom who looked just as puzzled as she was, no one had any recent contact with Dena. Everything had been dark. Pom got off the couch to get closer to them.

“Well, as y’all know, I spend most of my free time in the lab with Ginger. And I was able to create a concealable communication device!” Alicia said proudly, taking what looked like a normal bottle of concealer. But the girls knew better, Alicia was a crazy tech wiz and inventor. Her and Ginger both could put Tony Stark to shame.

“How does that shit even work… it’s fuckin’ makeup.” Pom questioned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had set foot in the lab, or the last time she wore makeup. Pom would rather be training and being troublesome with the male agents than behind a vanity or in a lab coat.

“Listen, I know it looks a little out of sorts but I promise it works! And the cosmetic part of the contraption is fully functional.” Alicia opened the packaging and did a swatch of the makeup on her arm. A perfect match.

“Say we can’t take any phones or even our glasses with us? Who’s gonna suspect a woman with a compact mirror and bottle of concealer? The idea is we use the idea of the fragile female that men have created against them. But my feminist spiel aside, I talked to Dena and she should be here by the end of next week!” Alicia got down from the counter, slipping her “concealer” into the front pocket of her black backpack.

Pom leaned against the counter as she smiled, "You’re a genius.” She said to Alicia softly.

“I’m no Ginger Ale, but I try! Also, I’ve been making a bat prototype for you in the lab! I meant to surprise you for your birthday but I can’t wait any longer.” Pom smiled at this. Alicia started to continue but paused. The Statesman designated ringtone grew louder from where it was playing on their tv. Well, duty calls.

The three agents made their way into the living room, Carey grabbing the remote from its spot on the ottoman. Once they had all settled themselves on the comfy couch, she pressed the answer button.

“Good morning, Angels!” Champagne greeted; the great window behind his head visible on the tv screen. It wasn’t uncommon for Champ to contact them while they were at home; saving more discreet missions for the four of them to take care of. It saved time, resources, and quite frankly more lives than if they were to send Whiskey, Tequila, or any of the other male agents instead. Hence the moniker, “Angels”.

“Good morning, Champ!” Alicia crowed, shifting to sling her legs across Pom and Carey’s laps making herself comfortable. Pom hastily grabbed Alicia’s feet from her lap and started to tickle them with no remorse, and her loud and mischievous laughs filled the room.

“Would y’all stop? Jesus Christ.” Carey said, pushing Alicia’s legs off the couch and inserting herself between her and Pom. “Sorry, Champ, continue please!” Carey said, turning her attention back to the man on the screen. Pom was holding back her laughter as best as she could.

“Well, when y’all are done horsing around, I have something for y’all to take care of. As you know, the senator is hiding his daughter trying to make it seem like she’s been kidnapped. Tonight, he is hosting a gala to impress some of the big wigs in the country and gain more support. I need y’all to infiltrate the gala and expose this sun’ a bitch before he can carry this tomfoolery on any longer.”

“Do I gotta dress all fancy and shit?” Pom asked, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. She had makeup, she hated dresses, and if she didn't hate her unruly hair getting in her face, she'd hate doing it too.

“I would prefer it if you did. The senator is very conservative, and has a strict dress code for this event.” Champagne said. Pom sighed angrily at this.

“Awe, c’mon, Pomegranate. I thought you liked playing dress up.” the screen expanded to show that none other than Agent Whiskey sat next to Champagne at the grand mahogany meeting room table.

“Whiskey!” Pom exclaimed with joy. A big grin was on her face now. She tucked her messy waves of hair behind her ears. Pom could feel her heart racing with pure happiness. Whiskey was the closest thing she had to a father, and she practically glowed in his attention.

“Howdy darlin’, you ready to join your old man on the dance floor?” Whiskey tipped his hat, grinning at the young agent.

The adopted father and daughter duo were the best partnership to come out of Statesman; Whiskey having taken Pom under his wing, saying that he saw himself in her. A troubled girl who needed a little guidance and TLC, and had unfathomable potential. Whiskey had promised Pom’s mother that he would ensure that the young woman would be taken care of while she was in the states. A promise that had been well kept.

“While I’m all for sappy reunions, I need you, girls, to get gussied up and make your way to that gala ASAP! I’m sending Whiskey to pick y’all up at 0800, We got a party to crash.” Champagne said, ending the video call.

Alicia stood and looked at her phone, an invitation addressed to a Penelope Vontrapp, and associates lit up her screen. “Well Miss Pom, or should I say Miss Penelope; it looks like you get to play the part of the daughter of some rich oil tycoon.”

“Fuck you, I’m not wearing any fuckin’ makeup!!” Pom said while jumping off the couch to sprint up to her room before the others could stop her.

“YOU’RE LUCKY THEY’RE MAKING A BIG DONATION IN YOUR HONOR! OTHERWISE, I’D BE FORCING YOU INTO A DRESS AND PUTTING SOME BLUSH ON THOSE CHEEKS!” Alicia shouted up the stairs, knowing that Pom was going to put on the same suede pantsuit she wore to all Statesman functions. It would be a cold day in hell before anyone forced her into a dress, and Alicia knew better than to even try and wrestle her into one.

“Will you curl my hair, please? May as well get some joy out of tonight.” Carey remarked, making her way up the stairs. Alicia noticed the sad air around her friend, she stopped reaching out to grab her friend's arm.

“What’s wrong? You were all chipper early, now you’re all….” Alicia made a fart noise with her mouth, hoping it would bring a small smile to her Carey’s face.

“It’s nothing, I promise. Just forget it, okay?” Carey pulled her arm away, continuing up the stairs. But it wasn’t really anything. Was it right for her to feel a little envious that Whiskey hadn’t acknowledged her? Had Champ told him something? Or was she just overthinking? Either way, they had a mission to focus on, and this worrying and pining could wait.

(a/n: thank you all for reading and standing by while i get in the swing of things. i now have a masterlist, and post with who and what yall can request will be coming soon. <3 roach)

#Statesman:Ablaze #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x oc #agent tequila x reader #agent tequila x oc #agent whiskey fic #oc fic #jack daniels #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal #kingsman golden circle #statesman

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takenbyemrys · 5 years ago

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Chapter 2/10

Main pairing: Peter Parker/Harley Keener

Chapter 1

Tony’s Monday morning was going a little differently. He understood Harley’s need for some independence, so he hadn’t sent a private jet. The kid had told him he’d be there around 9, and to ‘not leave him waiting in the lobby, old man.’ Yeah, okay, Tony was nervous. It’s not everyday that you introduce your two adopted sons that knew absolutely nothing about each other. He refused to admit to anybody but Pepper that he thought of them as his children, though. Pepper had given him a warm smile and corrected him. “Our children, you idiot.” Tony might have cried after that. A million different scenarios ran through his head. Harley was a bit rough around the edges and didn’t do well with other people, but god he hoped Peter’s literal ray of sunshine personality was enough. If it wasn’t he could only imagine the tension and arguments. He had kind of put all his eggs in this basket and couldn’t afford for them not to at least be civil. That’s really all he was shooting for, maybe over the summer they would be able to get along well enough to realize they could work together. So Tony might have shut himself in the lab all weekend to worry. It happens. When his phone buzzed on the table, he jumped sky high, not expecting it to be nearly nine already.

Harley Received 8:51am I think your ego presented itself in the lobby.

Harley Received 8:51am Like really gold inlay?

Harley Sent 8:52am Wait at the reception desk. I need to come down to approve your badge.

Tony was in the elevator a second later. Harley was leaning against the reception desk, arms crossed, a smirk on his face, and a duffel bag at his feet. Kelly, the receptionist was occasionally shooting him a smile, but Tony could see her glare pulling towards a large tour group in the lobby. He ignored it and continued. Kelly raised an eyebrow as Tony walked up to her desk. Tony could see her trying not to smile. Harley raised an eyebrow. “Wow you look like shit.” He smirked, his southern drawl falling smoothly. “Keep at it kid, I'll send you right back to Tennessee.” Tony grumbled. Harley rolled his eyes and sent Kelly a dashing smile, who was covering her laughter with a cough. “Good morning Mr.Stark.” She said sweetly. “Morning, Kelly. How’s the wife?” He asked politely. “Fabulous of course. I am a bit worried about how she’s going to do with that.” Kelly gestured to the tour group. “I can send someone?” Tony asked. Kelly shook her head. “Peter already agreed to help tomorrow.” Tony raised an eyebrow at that. “But anyway. I see we have a request for an alpha level badge printing.” Kelly sent Harley a smirk. “Another one I see.” “Another one, what?” Tony asked incredulously. Kelly just shook her head with a smile. “I knew PENIS Parker was lying about his stupid internship. Why else would he skip?” An obnoxious voice sounded from the large group. Tony froze. He watched as Kelly sent another glare toward the group. “Kelly.” He said slowly. “Mrs. Potts approved an overnight tour for a local STEM school.” Kelly said, keeping her voice even. “What school?” Tony asked, afraid he already knew the answer. “Midtown Tech.” Kelly pursed her lips. Tony’s blood ran cold. That motherfucker had called his kid what exactly. “That’s happened about four times now.” “Louder each time too,” Harley drawled. He gave off a carefree attitude, but Tony could see the underlying tension. Harley didn’t really take well to true assholes. Maybe this would be good for their relationship. “Right, Kelly please print the badge. Harley, we’re going to threaten children.” Tony smiled. Harley grinned and followed.

“I’m assuming this has something to do with the other intern you mentioned?” Harley asked. Tony nodded. When they reached the edge of the group, Tony could hear the voice of a teacher giving directions. He scanned the crowd, but didn’t find the source. He looked to the right and jumped out of his skin when his eyes met the indifferent glare of Michelle Jones. “MJ,” Tony greeted. The girl scared the crap out of him. She was a tiny angrier Pepper. She nodded and her gaze quickly found Harley. She smirked. “Another Murder!Child I see.” She snorted. Ned squeaked from his spot behind her. “I- excuse me a what?” Tony asked. Harley was smirking. “Murder. Child. The new one you ordered for Peter.” MJ enunciated. “MJ.” She jerked her chin toward Harley, who looked mildly scandalized. “Harley.” The boy drawled. At this point, they were getting the attention of the teenagers around them, but they didn’t notice. “And southern to boot.” MJ smirked again. “1. Hello Ned. Stop hiding. 2. I did not ‘order’ him for Peter, Jesus Christ. It’s long past time they should meet. 3. What in all hell is a murder child?” Tony gasped. This was not how this was supposed to be going. “Hello Mr.Stark,” Ned squeaked again and stepped out from behind MJ. “I think that by tomorrow, they’ll both agree otherwise.” MJ’s eyes dragged up and down Harley, who just raised an amused eyebrow. “And a murder child is anyone with an instant kill protocol.” MJ glared at Tony. Harley’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Peter doesn’t-” Tony sputtered. “You’re not the genius he thinks you are if you don’t believe he has one.” MJ rolled her eyes. “For the record, I don’t think i count as a ‘Murder Child,’ and I don't play well with other people.” Harley smirked again. God Tony wished he would stop doing that. MJ smirked right back. “Ever almost killed someone, hell ever actually killed someone?” Harley shrugged noncommittally. “Exactly. Murder Child with an accent?” “Don’t forget the evil smirk.” Ned stuttered. MJ nodded. “Welcome to the IronFamily. I have no doubt that the minute you set your eyes on either Peter you’ll be just smitten.” “How does fifty bucks sound?” Harley raised an eyebrow. “Wait either Peter?” Tony asked, eyes flicking between the three of them. “Yep.” MJ popped the ‘p’. “MurderChild!Peter and Soft!Peter. Either one. I won’t forget to collect.” Harley shot out his hand and they shook. Tony rubbed his temples. “Jesus christ what did I get myself into? Where the hell is he anyway? I can’t see him.” “Maybe it’s because you’re so short.” “Thin fucking ice Keener.” “He got permission from May to not come.” Ned stuttered out. MJ was smirking. She shared a knowing look with Ned. “What so he’s just home?” Tony asked. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “FRIDAY where the fuck is Peter?” “Language. MiniBoss is in Training Room 4.” Harley snorted, but he sent MJ a look when he heard ‘MiniBoss’. She just smirked at him. “Wait he’s in the fucking tower? When did he arrive? Why didn’t you notify me?” Tony started typing quickly. “Language. MiniBoss arrived at 3:14pm on Friday. You were notified when he met you in Lab 34.” FRIDAY sassed. “He hasn’t fu-reaking left since Friday. Jesus tell me he ate.” Tony groaned. “Smooth.” Harley said. Tony glared at him. “MiniBoss and TheBoss had breakfast and dinner together every day.” Friday confirmed. Tony’s jaw dropped. “Wow, IronDad really dropping the ball. What could your kids possibly be feeling right now?” MJ asked. “I am not dad!” Tony said incredulously. “Ms.Jones Mr.Leeds, i’m sure your conversation isn’t as important as…” The teacher called, but quickly trailed off when Tony turned to him. The class collectively gasped. “Hello Midtown.” Tony said. Harley snorted next to him. Tony sent him a glare. “Sorry to interrupt, I was looking for someone, who apparently isn’t here.” A tall kid pushed through the crowd. “Wait, were looking for Penis Parker?” The kid smirked, well it was like a weird grimace, but an attempt at a smirk. It was like he believed Tony would never fucking say yes. Tony’s eyes narrowed and he stepped forward so that he was right up in this kids face. “What the fuck did you just call my kid?” Tony growled. The kid paled instantly. He heard MJ snickering behind him. “I- I uh… Your kid?” Flash stuttered. “Peter Parker. My personal intern. One of the possible future heirs to my company. Like my own fucking son. You were talking about that Parker, correct?” Flash swallowed loudly. Behind him, Ned’s jaw dropped and even Harley’s eyebrows had shot up. MJ just looked amused. “I’m sorry.” Flash stumbled backward. Tony surveyed the rest of the crowd, noting the look of incredulity on their teachers face. He turned back to MJ. “No one believed the internship?” He raised a single eyebrow. MJ nodded, a smile twitching on her lips, before she cracked. “Not a dad, my ass. FRI save recording to IRONDAD Moments.” She guffawed. “Saved.” “FRIDAY where’s the kid again?” Tony sighed. “MiniBoss is in training room 4.” Friday answered. “For what?” Tony nose scrunched in confusion. “Family day.” FRIDAY said simply. Tony threw his head back and groaned. “So it’s a murder child kind of day.” MJ smirked at Harley, who was honestly so fucking confused. “FRIDAY, please record the meeting with Peter and send it to me.” “Of course, MiniPepper.” FRIDAY said. Tony whipped around to see MJ blushing. “Right, well, welcome to Stark Industries, be nice to your guide. She’s a gem. Don’t break anything.” Tony said to the teenagers. He saw a handful of teenagers nodding. He turned to walk away and found Ellen smirking at him. “Mr.Stark. The badge you requested.” Ellen handed a red badge to Harley. “I heard you adopted another one.” Tony sent a glare towards the reception desk. Kelly just waved. “Training room 4 is on our route today. Would you mind telling the fam? Just in case they want to evacuate.” Tony nodded. “Kid, get your bag.” Tony nodded to MJ and Ned and led the way to the elevator. “You need a badge to make Happy, well not happy, but less angry at me. FRIDAY took your bio scan so she will let you in any door. You have clearance for the whole building.” Tony grumbled as he walked into the elevator. “So Peter?” Harley asked. Tony rubbed a hand on his face. “Okay, only Pepper and Bruce, and now apparently a group of fucking teenagers know this, but Peter is being trained to be part of the team to take over SI should something happen to Pepper or myself.” Tony said very carefully. “A team?” Harley asked. “Why a team?” “Because Peter is also being trained to take over the Avengers.” Tony admitted. Harley’s jaw dropped. “Jesus, don't tell him any of this. Though I have no doubt, the scary one has already texted him.” Harley nodded. Tony kept sending him looks. Should he tell him that he’s part of the team? That they are the whole fucking team? Well MJ too honestly. She’ll definitely be their Pepper. Tony shook his head and decided against it. “Training room 4 FRI.” The elevator shot up.

#Peter Parker #peter parker fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfic #harley keener #harleypeter #Peterharley #parley #parkener #marvel

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eerythingisshaka · 6 years ago

Text

Will the Bell Ring? Pt. 3

(Erik Killmonger x Black!OC)

Part 1 Part 2

Kimara pays the barista for her green tea and goes across the street to the studio. This week has been a hectic one for her since she’s been working with Peter Gafflin, an alternative rock artist who is on the come up since his EP dropped last year. Kimara was owed a favor from the owner of the studio, Rick, after Erik helped get him some new equipment from a group that trashed the place after a drug fueled mosh pit they formed to add ambiance to their album. Suffice to say, they would not be returning to record any time soon.

When she enters the studio, Rick is there playing in his grey locs nervously.

“Kimmy! Good to see you 15 minutes past showtime, I really appreciate it.” He smiles, dimples still displaying powerfully under is grey beard.

She shrugs. “You know I have a process, Ricky Kanicky! It all works out in the end, thanks for the hookup on this gig. Are they waiting on me?”

Rick holds out his arm to escort her to the back. “Nah, I stalled them with some mic check mumbo jumbo, so at least their warmed up properly. You need some time in the booth before we start?”

She shakes her head as he opens the door. A gust of patchouli hits her senses. Peter Gafflin and his gang were warming up in a way much different than how Rick described.

“Rick! Thank God, I was ready to call the police, you were gone for like three hours man!” Peter’s rough Carolinian accent boomed as he walked wistfully over to you two in his holely jeans and cowboy boots with his fringed black leather jacket and matching wide brimmed hat.

“No, I just had to go get some extra talent to guide our recording session along. This is Kimara, she’s the third part to our banging backup we keep on hand for artists.”

Peter towers over her at 6’7, but humbly bends to kiss your hand like a prince. “To God be the glory for creating women and music. Put them together and I’m a happy Papa, you know what I’m saying?!” He ribs Rick before clapping thunderously to liven his group. “Aight y’all! Look alive. Dave get your Fender, Bill get your wide ass behind them drums, everybody take your places!”

Kimara goes over to the mics with her other singers. “Wassup Brenda? Tara?”

They roll their eyes at you before mumbling their hellos. You put your headphones on to get ready for the track to play, not studdin them today. They were the fourth pair this year to work for Rick and the studio. They all get inspired to be solo artists or get too wrapped up in the artist of the day and think they can keep up with a touring schedule to only come out of it broke with no plan B, and pregnant.

Singing has always been her dream to do, and any capacity in which Kimara can fulfill that, is one she is willing to go for. It’s her escape, her home away from home, it’s her church, especially when the artist has some good stuff to work with. Kimara hadn’t gotten as in depth with Peter’s discography as she usually does with artist’s before a recording session because her mind could not focus lately. Trying to have a baby has been on her mind 24/7 and Erik filling her mind with hope and then trying to tell her to chill made her crazy. Did he want a baby as bad as she did? Kimara didn’t think so anymore.

She shakes her head and takes a few deep breaths before looking over the music with the girls. Brenda catches her up on the tempo of the song and little points in which Peter wanted them to blow. Southern singers couldn’t deny the power of a good Black gospel when they needed it.

Peter certainly is no exception. He places his hands in front of his mouth in prayer before raising them up to the sky, bringing them down with shaky fists.

“Now THAT is a climax if I ever heard one. What did I tell you Rick? Music and women, the best sounds on this Earth come from both.” Peter smiles pointing victoriously at the three of them before taking his place at his mic. “I’m ready ladies, let’s record this thing!”

After a few dry rehearsals, time came to record. Kimara gives a thumbs up to Rick as he queues up the track to play in your ears. The song isn’t bad, kind of bluesy and it’s about a love misunderstood. Peter plays a man who is trying to convince his lover out of depression, using the analogy of being in shark infested waters. His lover finds the water and waves so beautiful she jumps from the boat and dives in after he protests over and over. He is subjected to watch as the sharks circle around her, he reaches out to her the whole time reminding her that he is there and to take his hand. He can’t tell if her face is wet from the ocean or from tears but she is smiling all the same and it frustrates him to see the danger looming but she isn’t phased.

The song ends ambiguously but Kimara can’t stop her emotions from spilling over and affecting her vocals a little bit. Rick notices immediately and cuts the session short, popping into the booth.

“Hey Kimara, you alright?” He asks in a fatherly manner.

All she can do is nod and wipe her eyes as she wishes she was anywhere but there. Being late is unprofessional enough, but costing an artist studio time, she might as well hang it up now. Peter comes over to Kimara, waving at Rick. “We’re fine, just give us a minute.” He dips his height down to look her in her eyes. “You alright there, ma’am?”

Kimara nods shrugging. “The song is just that good I guess.”

Peter shakes his head. “No, it isn’t. My buddy Ralph helped me to write it, I’ve been wondering about the composition of it since, but when he died in a car crash a couple months ago, I haven’t been able to nail this thing down. He’d know exactly what it needs, but he ain’t here to tell it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss Peter.” Kimara says apologetically.

Peter smiles. “I didn’t kill him, so all’s good! I want you to sing a little something on the track for me, just you, to kind of hear how it sounds. Don’t worry about my notes, just do what feels good to you.”

Peter motions to Rick as he walks Kimara over to his mic, setting the headphones over her ears. Kimara feels nervous instantly, not knowing what to do with the spotlight being on her, this has never happened to her before.

But as the track plays, she sings the lyrics from her heart. They were pretty simple and easy to memorize so when she closed her eyes and flowed with the track, she began to feel that familiar emotion again, accept this time she honed it as best as she could. She knew where her inspiration came from, it was undeniable, but why did he bring the sadness out so easily? Before she knew, the song was done and when she opened her eyes, Peter was on one knee with his hands out.

“You see me right now? This is what you just did to me, an old bachelor crooner ready to lay down it all for your hand. Are you betrothed my dear?”

Kimara laughs as she takes off her headphones, stepping back. “None of your business, because you are too wild for me anyway!”

Peter gets up pointing at Rick. “You hiding treasures from me, you greedy bastard! This girl ain’t a back up, she’s a star in the making!”

Kimara felt hot, trying her best to appear humble, but this man has a way with words that made her completely big headed. “It’s nothing. I don’t have the time for that right now. I’m focusing on my personal life.”

Peter smiles but appears disappointed. “Girl the places you can go. I hope you have someone in your life to remind you of your-your QUEENLY-ness! I wouldn’t leave the house without you by my side.”

Kimara shakes her head. “Well luckily I do have someone. He’s….pretty great I think.”

Peter pulls his glasses down the bridge of his nose. “Well until that ‘think’ turns into a ‘know’ keep me in mind.”

Kimara cackles pushing him away. “You have some nerve. Get back to your spot so we can make this album and go home!”

They share a laugh but before Kimara goes back to her mark she turns to him. “Peter, I did wonder though, with the song: Does the lady ever take your hand? Gets out?”

Peter smiles weakly shaking his head. “Nah, never does. Cuz I pushed her in.”

Nine Years Ago

Kimara sits on the couch with a movie playing in the background but she isn’t really looking at it. Her eyes have glazed over the moving images on her screen and the sounds are similar to being underwater. There is too much happening in her mind at the moment to even be bothered with the world around her.

Kimara hangs her head clutching her knees as she thinks back to a couple months ago, when Erik was there. She had left her part time job at the music college and cautiously pulled up to her house when an ominous figure sat on her front doorstep. Her keys tucked between her knuckles and 911 ready to just hit dial, she steps out the car.

“Whatchu want?!” She bellows, bringing the bass out her voice as much as possible. His head hung low enough that the front door light couldn’t catch his features, face masked in the darkness.

She hears him chuckle. “The hell you barkin at?” He lifts his head up to look at her.

Kimara’s heart dropped in her stomach at the sound of his voice. Covering her mouth, she drops her keys to the concrete, overcome with emotion. He wasn’t supposed to be there, practically considered him dead. Erik gets up, hugging her tightly. “I told you I was gonna be aight. I told you.”

Kimara gasps for breath. “No! You ain’t told me though!” She punches his chest for emphasis.

Erik pulls her away to lift her face toward his, wiping her eyes. “I like a surprise, what can I say.”

Kimara sniffles her snot bubbles, stepping back. “This is so damn embarrassing. How can you act so cool right now. I’m a mess, and you put on so much damn weight, like, the fuck!”

Erik opens his jack to look down at himself. “Well damn! You still know how to talk crazy to somebody.”

She laughs. “No, like, look at you! You got so damn….BIG, like….” Kimara holds his jacket apart a bit to run her hands down his chest.

Erik bites his lip nodding. “Now that’s more like it.”

“Shut up! I’m just in awe! You weren’t scrawny for real but not nearly this buff! What kind of undershirt you got on, you feel bumpy.” Kimara puls at the collar of his shirt, but Erik swipes her hand away.

“Uh uh, you gotta earn the show. Cash upfront.” Erik jokes, putting his hands in his pockets. “You look good too, real….real good. Gettin them squats in huh?” Erik stands on his toes to look around her backside but Kimara steps sideways.

“Here you go! Go on! I don’t see you for two years and you drop yourself here for what? Are you back for good?” Kimara picks her keys up, going to her front door to open it.

“I’m just here to talk, hang out. I needed a place to lay my head, so I figured I could get two birds with one stone.” Erik walks in behind her, closing the door.

Kimara takes off her jacket and sets her bag down. “That’s fine. You welcome here. You gotta tell me how things went! I know you went to Japan at first, but I didn’t get a letter from you after that, I got kind of worried…”

Erik told Kimara about his time in Japan; he was only there a few weeks before he was selected for Special Ops training, which gave him the physique. Most of the rest of his missions were confidential, but the orders he was given were implied.

When he showed his scars and the meaning behind them, Kimara just about lost it.

“How can you mark yourself up like that?! The memories aren’t enough to live with? You have to see them on yourself everyday you look in the mirror?”

“Might as well! I see it when I wake up, when I sleep! In a way, this is therapy for me, makes me feel like what I did wasn’t for nothing!”

Kimara paces the floor agitated beyond compare. “Why would you hurt yourself like that? Haven’t you been through enough to make these permanent changes to yourself? I still can’t believe the day you signed up for that damn program. The details were shaky at best. But the Navy was more important to you than what I thought.”

Erik scoffs. “This wasn’t about you to begin with. We didn’t have anything to fight for. You’re my friend, I had plenty of those. You think you’re the only one that told me to fall back from it? Huh? This gave me purpose, it gave me a vision for my future, something I ain’t had EVER.”

Kimara looked at Erik with disgust. “You’re a damn dumbass.”

Erik cocked an eyebrow. “You better be glad I know you like that, I don't let anybody talk to me like that no more.”

Kimara stands her ground with him. He really forgot who she was. “I ain't scared of you Erik! You forget that I've known you for years now, I'm not just somebody off the street! I've seen you stressed out for exams, I've seen you dealing with people giving you a hard time for being on scholarship, hell US cuz we Black and they didn't believe us! I get that every year on your father's death date, you get extra distant but you let me in to your little rituals to honor him. That Wakandan chant you'd do? I still know it by heart, hell I said it for you!”

Erik looked at Kimara angrily but not because she was wrong. “Stop talkin bout that shit.”

Kimara steps to him. “What you think you hard now? You think you got everyone figured out, you so damn smart?? But you won’t even let yourself FEEL shit no more, is that what your big plan is? Shooting people up and taking their things, like that’s ever worked for anybody.”

Erik snarls. “Except it has, and I have no problem sending it right back to people.”

Kimara points to the door. “Get the fuck outta my house Erik. I didn’t ask for this bullshit in my face.”

Erik turns his chin up at her. “So you done with me now? Now is when you wanna throw me out? I knew you wasn’t worried about me anyway.” As Erik turned away, Kimara pushes his back to get him to the door quicker.

“You fucking bastard! I wasted my fucking time thinking about you! You can’t get outta your own damn head to realize who cares about you!”

Erik reaches for the doorknob, standing there a moment listening to her wail.

“You could’ve been great here with me! I don’t give a damn how tough you think you are, you aren’t this.”

Kimara grows weak from yelling, crumpling to the floor sobbing. Erik crouches down to her quicker than he meant to. It was instinctual more than anything. “Come on now…”

She holds her hands up. “No! You don’t get it. Whatever those people told you over there isn’t true. You aren’t more of a man for doing this shit, for scarring yourself up, for not caring. You’re not human! You’re not yourself!”

Erik freezes when she says this, something finally clicked in him with what she said. Erik apologizes softly, but Kimara was tired. Tired of crying, tired of fighting, she just wanted her friend, she wanted to be happy and for him to be safe and happy too. Erik just held her in his arms, allowing himself to feel like she kept reminding him to. It hurt worse than getting the scars did and when he broke, Kimara was glad. Looking into his face she finally saw the Erik she always knew, the one that she wanted so much from. The world didn’t trample his soul that day, or any day for the next few weeks following.

Kimara allowed Erik in her heart, something she always fought with herself over because they were such good friends and Erik wasn’t the first person she would assume wanting to settle down. But when he looked at her it seemed so genuine, so pure she couldn’t help but fall into him. And that's what she was kicking herself over on that couch a month later, sore and opening a bottle of pills.

Present Day

When Kimara left the studio, she tried calling Erik but didn’t get an answer. Instead she got a generic text saying he would call her later, in a meeting.

She rolls her eyes and decides to go check on his cousin at the community center. He’s helped Erik through a whole helluva lot of bullshit before so maybe he could listen to hers.

The state of the art facility was amazing to see given what it used to be. Old apartments where crime and drugs ran rampant, now it looked like something you would see downtown in the upscale neighborhoods.

When she got inside, it didn’t take long for her to find T’Challa, crouched and talking to a small child standing next to their mother. The child gives him a hug, which he took genuinely and that’s when he sees Kimara.

“Janae, I will see you next week to work on your long division, ok?” He points to her, thanking her mother at the same time before heading over to Kimara.

“Hello! How are you?” He says to Kimara warmly.

Kimara bounces on her toes. “I’m good T’Challa, you?” They share a church hug. Kimara is so happy she can call T’Challa family, without him, Erik wouldn’t even be there.

T’Challa sighs heavily, putting his hands behind his back. “I’ve been better. I’ve been drowning in chamomile tea and crackers to settle my stomach. American alcohol is horrendous.”

Kimara laughs. “Oh yeah, Erik took you out on the town. Did you have fun at least?”

T’Challa half shrugs, smirking. “It was successful for what the goal was. I met with a young lady there and we may have hit it off. I haven’t contacted her about it yet.”

Kimara’s jaw drops. “Whaaat? You playin with women’s heart now T? I never thought of you as the type.”

T’Challa stutters a bit to find his words. “It wasn’t really….well, Erik just wanted to cheer me up for me and Nakia not being on the best of terms, so-”

“Yeah, that’s how he was in college. One girl doesn’t stop his show.” Kimara rests her hand on the back of her neck, playing with her curls knotting at the nape.

T’Challa looks away, visibly uncomfortable. “But I do intend to call her back, I just don’t want to appear too eager and things.”

Kimara pokes her bottom lip out, bucking her round brown eyes at him. “Aww, now don’t go soft on account of me. I know how guys are, so lemme stop asking about your love life. However, if it ever becomes official, feel free to invite her to hang with us. We can make a double date of it.”

T’Challa nods, smiling humbly. “Of course, that would be delightful. I am glad you stopped by actually, I imagine you’re looking for this anyway.” T’Challa turns on his heels, the tails of his jacket picking up with a flourishing wave as he clicks down the hallway.

Kimara follows behind him confused. “What are you talking about?”

Walking down the halls decorated with projects and works tagged with an ‘A+’ or 100% mark whizzed past them as they approached his office. Opening the doors to his office, his footsteps muffle against the lush carpet to retrieve something out of his desk.

He pulls out a burlap pouch to hand to Kimara proudly. “There. Erik is pretty eager to get started on that regimen so you guys can….have at it!” T’Challa gestures awkwardly shaking his hands about in front of him.

Kimara screws her face up looking from T’Challa to the bag. “But I still don’t….OH! He actually asked you about some erectile, baby juice making bull from you?”

T’Challa’s eyes widen. “You and him never stray much from details, eh?”

Kimara opens the drawstring of the bag. “I’m sorry, I just don’t….what is the shit, T?” Kimara pulls out dried leaves and herbs from the pouch.

T’Challa tuts at her. “Aye aye, put it back! He is supposed to boil some water and put that in a cup and drink it. It’s just a mix of common teas and spices, more of a placebo than a real cure.”

Kimara sighs, closing the bag up and placing a hand on her hip. “So I guess Erik really does wanna have this baby.” She murmur to herself.

T’Challa comes around the front of the desk, leaning against it. “Were you having second thoughts?”

She shakes her head fervently. “No, I want to be a mother more than anything right now which….may be part of our problem. I’m forgetting how to be his partner. We got into a bit of a thing when he had his appointment today. He keeps saying I should slow down with the baby making regimen, and I thought for a second he wasn’t taking things seriously.”

T’Challa gives an empathetic glance, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “Excuse me in advance if I’m getting too personal but Erik has told me only a few things, so I’m not unaware. But I know that Erik has your interests in his heart. He knows this is important to you and it is equally important to him. However, he doesn’t do well with rules and regulation. He likes to make things happen and if it works great, if not, move on to something new. And maybe this is his way of moving on to a new method. But it sounds like he wants to take pressure off of you, like with this herbal method.”

Kimara looks at the bag in her hand, feeling herself relax as she held onto it tightly. “I think you’re right. He’s been getting on my nerves with it but I think he’s just trying to show he cares.”

T’Challa nods. “He does, I’m certain of it.”

Kimara gives T’Challa a grateful hug. “Thank you so much! I’m gonna take this to him. Thanks for your help, I knew I would get what I needed coming to you.”

T’Challa gives her a soft pat on the back before breaking the embrace. “Anytime. You guys are a great pair, he’s lucky to have you.”

“You too. He’s come so far because of...because of you. So even though these are dud teas, it may make things a little more hopeful, who knows.”

T’Challa clutches his chest, looking hurt. “Dud teas? I will tell you those are delicious and very relaxing, if nothing else! Fresh import from Wakandan gardens of the royal palace-”

Kimara yawns. “Yeah yeah, I gotta go home now. Tell Shuri I said hello, and if Nakia give you any trouble…” Kimara boxes the air with weak punches.

T’Challa walks her out giving final goodbyes before making her way home to the man of her life.

Walking into their place, Kimara finds Erik sitting on the couch playing 2K.

“I’m home!” Kimara calls out, kicking off her shoes and jacket. Erik presses a combination of buttons on his controller, grunting as he misses his shot at the basket over and over, losing to the computer.

Kimara climbs over the back of the couch, laying her calves over his chest, warming his neck with her serried thighs. “Erik…” she whines.

Erik remains unconcerned with her presence. “Come on, I’m almost done with this quarter, don’t fuck it up.”

Kimara plays with his head, pushing it side to side before resting her breasts on top of him. “Are you still mad at me?”

“When did I say I was mad at you? I thought you were mad at me?” Erik says, still focused on the game until a loud buzzer makes Kimara jump and Erik tosses the controller on the table in defeat.

“I’m not mad, I was just...upset and assuming shit.” Kimara says softly, massaging his scalp. She feels his shoulders relax under her legs as he strokes them.

“So what problems you tryna work through still?” Erik says deadpan.

“None! We don’t have any.” Kimara says sweetly, feeling hands along his face to scratch his beard. “T’Challa gave me his little love potion stuff…” She dangles the bag in front of his face.

Erik takes it, staring at it in his hands. “Aight, just let me know what time you want me to take this and I’ll be on the way to the bedroom.”

Kimara swings her leg around to slide beside him holding on to his arm. “Erik, you ain’t gotta worry about that!”

Erik looks so tired, looking at Kimara wearily. “I don’t wanna be a reason you feel like you can’t get pregnant. I know you think I’m being childish sometimes but I want a kid just like you. This ain’t been good for us though, how we doin it.”

“I know,” Kimara says, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“And soon as those results from the lab come back, we can talk about other shit, but right now, I got you and I’m good with that.”

Kimara’s heart pounds in her chest, what a lovely man he can be. “You’re the fucking sweetest.”

“So don’t be looking at your phone in bed with that tracker, don’t just fuck me without tryna be sexy about it, and don’t down my manhood in the heat of your anger.”

Kimara rubs his chest. “That was bad of me.”

“Damn right it was. Cuz that ain’t no fucking problem.”

Kimara shakes her head. “Never.”

“I know faking, and THAT ain’t it.”

“It’s impossible for me to fake THAT.” Kimara says, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“So as a man and as your man, lemme take care of what I gotta do on my own terms. You just keep being cute and fine and smart as you always acting.”

Kimara lays her head across his lap looking up at him. “Never an act babe, I’m all those things and more. Including hungry.”

Erik plays in her wild fro with one hand, the other resting at the base of her throat. “What am I supposed to do about that? You ain’t got hands to dial delivery?”

“Erik! I know you got something in that kitchen, I smelt in soon as I walked in.”

“Yeah, for ME. This a every man for himself house, Ma, you know that.”

“Pleeeease.” Kimara widens her eyes a bit for good measure.

Erik smirks. “You better quit all that for I poke your eye out.”

Kimara scoffs, smacking his stomach as she gets up to look in the oven and pull out a brown paper bag with two containers of penne pasta slathered in marinara meat sauce and melty cheese with the crispy crunchy bread she loves so much.

“You were gonna eat two by yourself, huh?” Kimara quips.

“I can eat a lot more than that, so don’t try me.” Erik calls across the room.

Kimara gets her serving out and practically skips back to the couch to enjoy and watch Erik play his game. Except he still had it on pause.

“So you couldn’t bring mine back witchu?” He asks, voice raising an octave.

Kimara slurps up a stray string of cheese off her fork. “Erik, seriously? I just got in!”

Erik kisses his teeth. “Ok, lemme have a bite of yours.”

“Uh uh! Get your lazy self up and get your own!” Kimara kicks her feet up at him, scarfing another bite.

Erik doesn’t take no for an answer, pushing her legs to one side pinning her. “Gimme some!”

“No! You’re gonna make me drop it!” Kimara squeals, barely holding onto the aluminum container.

Erik just opens his mouth open coming closer and closer to her face. “You gonna spit on me, close your mouth!”

Erik guides his mouth to her fork and she hesitantly puts it in his mouth. He dramatically pauses to savor the flavor, chewing slowly. “Mm! Damn that’s good.”

Kimara rolls her eyes. “Can you get off me now?”

Erik nods, swallowing. “Yeah, just lemme have some bread and-”

“NIGGA IF YOU DON’T GO!” Kimara squirming under him.

Erik takes the container from her hand setting it on the table. “Chill I gotta digest now.” Erik proceeds to open her legs up laying his head against her chest, snuggling in her womanly comforts. Kimara is lowkey seething when all she wants is some damn dinner, but in reality it had been a while since they had been this playful with each other. Putting her needs aside, she takes the time to enjoy his weight on her, his heartbeat on her stomach, the warmth in between her.

“Sing me somethin.” He mumbles in her titties.

That night and every night following for the next two weeks were grand. Kimara hadn’t felt that kind of love for Erik in a length of time she would be embarrassed to admit. It felt like they were dating all over again and she would’ve loved for that to have stayed that way, but then his results came back and her worries erupted all over again.

Part 4

Masterlist

Ragtag

@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku@dameshaemonique @fonville-designs @destinio1@bakarisangel @wakanda-inspired @klaine15689 @savageiz @nickidub718 @yoyolovesbucky

#erik killmonger fanfic #erik killmonger fic #erik killmonger x oc #erik killmonger x black!oc #black panther fic #black panther au #erik lives #shakafic #fanfic

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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years ago

Text

Meeting Jack; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Hello all! First of all I would like to apologize to those who have sent me anon requests. I have been in SUCH a writer’s stump that I couldn’t figure out what to do. And school starts for me in 2 days and I’m afraid I may not be able to get to those requests again till either spring break if not by the end of this semester. Again I am so sorry but I hope this makes up for my lack of updates.

Now this chapter of my Rock Angel series doesn’t really include the boys as the other parts have (sorry *dodges TVs and drum sets being flown at me*) but I PROMISE this is an important story arc for you readers as the Rock Angel. I’ve also included a face cast for this person you will read about and yes I used the same name as it is in the TV show, but I will let you all read about it and you can comment and like to your hearts desire. I promise the next part I write will include the boys more.

Warnings: Usual swearing, some derogation insults, pictures W/O consent (ALWAYS ASK BEFORE YOU TAKE SOMEONES PICTURE. DON’T JUST TAKE IT without their permission. It’s a total DICK move.), some fluff.

Taglist *open*:

@isabella-bby

@onebigfangirlworld

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@dj-lowkey

@mr-badguymercury

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

_______________________________________________________

*May 11th, 1983*

After recording my 5th album I decided that I needed a break. Some time to myself and hope and pray I can manage to sneak away from the annoying paparazzi that are always stalking me in the day. So at around 11pm, I headed to a club that was in downtown London that I knew where the paps never really go to. Plus I needed a distraction since my boys were on their Japan tour and I was missing them.

I got dressed in a normal pair of jeans, simple black high heeled combat boots, a white Aladdin Sane t-shirt and a jean overcoat. I took my motorbike instead of calling my driver Louis as to not bring about attention.

Once I got to the club, I parked my bike aside and placed my helmet under the seat trunk and headed into the club. With my shades over my eyes I walked towards the club so that I could escape the silence of the streets.

I entered inside and the club was still pretty crowded, the current song that was playing over the speakers was Deacy’s song “Another one bites the dust”. People were dancing close to each other, grinding their bodies together and just getting hammered. I walked up to the bar and I told the bartender.

“Just get me a cold beer please.” He nodded and handed me a tall bottle of beer. I uncapped it and took a swig of it as I observed the crowd. As a musician and as Queen’s personal ‘eyes of young audience’, I wanted to see what really got the people moving. Of course Roger and Brian say that most of the music is either disco or the rising “Pop”, which really isn’t Queen.

After only having one beer and staying at the club for about another hour, I let out a soft yawn and looked down at my watch to see that it was 12;45am, so I decided that it was time to head back home and get some rest since I needed to get ready for a radio interview tomorrow, plus a music video shooting of my song ‘Bridge of Light.’

But as I went outside, I was suddenly bombarded by camera flashes. However it all came from one camera and I heard a very familiar voice say.

“Come on (y/n) darling give me the dirt. Are you really gonna drive while hammered? Were you here meeting someone? Give me the dirt darling!” Duke Weasleton, my current annoying one man paparazzi stalker. He started stalking me around four months ago, trying to always get the dirt on “the Rock Angel”, just to see what gossip or rumors he can spread about me.

I’ve tried to be nice to him and tell him to go away but he keeps coming back like an annoying mosquito, draining me of my patience. One time when Deacy, Brian and I were out catching up for lunch, he came in with camera flashes and calling out accusations that I was having an affair with the two of them, asking if they were my “Sugar daddies”.

That just got Deacy and Brian riled up and they almost went to town to beat the shit out of Duke but I told them to not get caught because he could easily ruin all of us if we try to start something, and I didn’t want my boys getting into trouble, so we walked away from the restaurant and I had my bodyguard Big Rob take care of him.

“Duke I really don’t have time for this. I’m exhausted and all I wanted was one night off of no press or annoying paps like you, so please leave me alone.”

“Why? Are you meeting your secret date? What’s his name? Come on Angel give me everything!” He kept taking pictures all the while walking closer and closer to me. I was now backed up against the building of the club while the flashes of his camera were still going off and him hounding me with accusations and questions. I was almost about to snap when I heard a soft male’s voice say.

“Hello.” The flashes stopped and we both turned around and from the lights above the club plus the streetlights there stood a young man a few years older than me but definitely not in his 30’s, he had short sandy blond hair that slightly combed over his forehead. He wore a simply white t-shirt, a dark blue jacket and jeans. “Sorry to interrupt, but the boys sent me here to come pick you up, (y/n).”

Based on his accent, I could tell that he was American with a slight tang in his voice, maybe he was from one of the southern states but I couldn’t tell which one.

“Excuse me, but who are you exactly?” Duke asked as his camera hung over his neck. “And this is a private chat between me and her.”

“Really? Because it didn’t seem private to her. And it also seemed that she didn’t want to talk to you” The boy stated narrowing his brow and seemed to be glaring at Duke. There was silence in the air as I looked between Duke and this boy. “Listen I’m…..”

“Duke Weasleton. Yeah I heard. But see the way I was raised, in order to get pictures of someone you need to first ask for their consent, not lay in wait before ambushing them with false accusation. But then again your paparazzi so what would you know about that?” Wow, this guy’s hitting all the right places when describing Duke at this point.

Duke grinned icily and said as he walked up to this boy.

“Okay, why don’t you back off kid?”

“No you back off, old man.” The boy stated lowly as he stood his ground and stared Duke down.

It was at that point Duke got a look of shock and humiliation. For you see, Duke Weasleton is always self-conscious about his age, even though he’s around his late 40’s he looks like he’s in his 50’s if not 60’s. This guy just did not age well.

I softly coughed out a laugh as I stared at this kid literally giving Duke a sucker punch straight to his ego.

“Old man?” choked out Duke.

“Yeah, that’s right.” The boy said in a light, challenging tone. Duke turned towards me and I hid my smile behind my hand as I cleared my throat. Duke turned back towards the boy and growled lowly.

“Okay, alright, this isn’t over.” And without another word, Duke walked away and disappeared into the darkness of the London streets. Once everything had calmed down I walked up towards the boy and I said.

“Wow, so American chivalry isn’t dead.”

“Nope, you just gotta know where to look for it, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thank you, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I can’t imagine what it’s like for celebrities to get hounded day in and day out when they’re just minding their own business by press or photographers.” He told me.

“Just the price of fame, the one downside unfortunately. Wish it wouldn’t happen but it does.”

“I’m Jack by the way,” the boy now known as Jack extended his hand out to me and as I took it he fully introduced himself. “Jack Kline.” I took his hand and we shook hands as I introduced myself.

“(Y/n). But then again you might know that cause otherwise why would a one man paparazzi hound me like that if I wasn’t famous.” Oh god that sounded so arrogant of me. What the bloody hell (y/n)? “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound conceded I…..”

“It’s alright, besides I already knew who you were the minute I saw you at the bar.” Wow, so he knew who I was and yet he didn’t come up to me and hound me for an autograph or ask for a picture or even try to sit by me pretending to be my date (you do not want to even know how many guys have tried to do that to me).

“Well Jack Kline, is there any way I can repay for your chivalrous act?” I asked him.

“Oh no I couldn’t as that of you. All I wanted was to be sure you weren’t being harassed by that guy anymore.”

“Please, I won’t take no for an answer. I must repay you, no one but my boys would’ve done that for me. And I was just about this close from ripping Duke’s head off. Please I know a little coffee shop just a few blocks away.”

“Well, okay. Just one cup of coffee, then I pay for the rest of the drinks we may have.” I smiled then I lead him towards my bike and we both got on it and I drove down to the coffee shop.

We took a booth at the coffee shop, minus about 2 other people, the café was pretty much a graveyard shift. Jack ordered a plain coffee while I got sweet coffee.

“Now I hope you don’t mind me asking but, just so I can officially confirm this without making assumptions but you’re American right?”

“Yes, I am from a little town called Lebanon, Kansas. It’s definitely a lot smaller than London is.” We both smiled softly and then I continued,

“So what’s a small town boy from Kansas doing here in London of all places?”

“Just thought I might have a bit of fun. Been wanting to see London for some time so I thought, what the hell pick up a passport and spend a summer here and see what the British people are like.”

“Well I can tell you that we’re dull and very boring.” I teased which made him laugh. “The weather is also terrible and some of the food is bland even to me, a born and raised British girl.” We both continued laughing.

“So….what exactly were you doing at the club anyway?” he asked me.

“I just needed a break. I’ve been recording my 5th album for months now, endless TV and radio interviews and a music video shoot. I thought going to a club just to clear my head would be best. Going late at night since press don’t typically stay so late. But Duke is a different case and I guess I should’ve known better. Or had at least called up Big Rob my bodyguard.”

“I can understand why you did. If I were in your shoes I’d probably do the same thing.” He said. I looked up at him.

“So Jack, what type of music do you like? Or whose your favorite artist?”

“Will it increase your ego if I said you’re in my top 5 favorite female singers?” he teased with a smirk and a mischievous glint in his light blue/green eyes.

“It just might. Am I number 1?”

“Sorry but you’re close. Joan Jett’s my number one.”

“Understandable, she is pretty cool, never got to meet her yet but I hope to someday. She’s in fact my inspiration.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s showed me that when it comes to women performing, you don’t need to show much skin just to put on a good show. She can dress in such casual punk rock clothes like any other man and still give a good show.”

“True. As for my music choices, I tend to stick with classic rock thanks to my cousin for introducing me ever since I was 5. Other artists I like are Bowie, AC/DC, George Michael, my guilty pleasure is Michael Jackson.”

“Hey, he’s no guilty pleasure. Even I the Rock Angel am a slave when it comes to the King of Pop. He’s actually a real sweet guy too, gave me some good tips when it comes to dancing.” He looked at me in shock at the fact that I actually got to meet Michael Jackson himself.

“You’ve met Michael Jackson?”

“Yeah, three times actually when he came to London to do some recording. In fact he told me to make ‘So good’ my second single, and said that it would be even more popular than ‘Set it all free’. In a way he was right.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” I shrugged and then I asked him.

“Okay so who would you say your all-time favorite rock band is?”

“Oh Queen hands down. Even though my cousin and I get into disputes about whose better them or AC/DC, I’ll still pick Queen. Their music is just unlike anything I’ve ever heard. And I really love John Deacon’s bass playing, and the songs that he’s made already. I don’t wanna sound too much like a fanboy but—he’s my inspiration for picking up a bass guitar in the first place.”

“Really?” I asked astounded.

“Yeah. After hearing Queen for the first time back in high school with their song Bohemian Rhapsody, it helped me into wanting to study more about music composition and song writing. But it wasn’t until I first heard the bass solo for ‘Liar’ that I picked up my first bass guitar and would practice day and night till I got it right. Now anytime I play that song on my record player, I have to pick it up and play it, imagining that I’m playing alongside my hero.”

And Deacy thinks he’s not the most important person in the band. He underestimates himself most of the time, and I respect his shyness when it comes to being out in public but he’s written so many great hits for Queen, that he too can inspire people, not just Brian, Roger or Freddie.

“He’d be honored to hear you say that.” I said solemnly. We stayed at the café and continued to just talk for what felt like hours until I noticed that it was a bit pass 3am and I knew I had to get home and get at least 2hrs of sleep before my radio interview all the way in South London.

“You sure I can’t give you a lift to your flat Jack? It really isn’t safe this late out on the streets.” I asked him as we left the café.

“I’m sure, the cab’s almost here. Plus I’ve already taken too much of your time, you should get some sleep. I bet your today is packed in the next few hours.” I nodded then as the cab drove up to the café I told him.

“Thank you again Jack. For what you did to Duke for me.”

“Again, it’s no trouble at all. You probably would’ve done the same thing if it were me.” He went to open the door and I suddenly blurted out,

“When can I see you again?” He faced me and he said.

“When are you free next?”

“I’m free on Saturday, or I could give you a pass to come see me film my music video later this afternoon?” He smiled and he said.

“I’ve always been interested in how music videos are filmed.” I smiled and said.

“Great! I mean I’ll send my friend’s driver Terry to pick you up tomorrow. Just be sure to be ready by around 12:00, filming will begin at around 1:30 once I’m done with my radio interview.” He nodded and then he got into the taxi and drove off. I waved bye to him before I got on my bike and drove on home.

The minute I got back home, I immediately collapsed onto my bed and didn’t even bothering to change into pajamas. I quickly set my alarm clock and then fell right asleep.

The next morning I was at BBC radio station being interviewed by Freddie’s good friend Andres. He’s probably one of my favorite interviewers because he loves to spice up the talk show and makes asking questions fun.

“So (y/n) dear you’re known as the youngest woman inspiring artist but let’s get a bit personal. Any plans on finding a future man in your life?”

“Oh Andres you cheeky little boy, always wanting to know if I’ve got a man yet. Sorry to say but my answer is still no, I haven’t found Mr. Right just yet.”

“Not according to this morning’s paper, come on darling what’s his name?” I looked at him confused and said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Ohh, ohh honey you didn’t know. It’s all over the papers and the tabloids.” He said in pure concern, realizing that I had no idea what he was talking about. He then handed me a copy of this morning’s gossip tabloid and written in bold caps print was.

SPARK FLY WITH THE ROCK ANGEL:

Super Star (Y/n) (l/n), also known as the Rock Angel been spotted with a mysterious American man. The two were cuddled up at a local café very early this morning at around 2am.

And the heading picture was a picture of me and Jack sitting at our booth through the see-through window of the café.

“Duke.” I sneered under my breath. I took a deep breath and I calmly stated in order to protect Jack’s privacy and not drag him into this insanity. “He’s an old childhood friend of mine that went to America. I hadn’t seen him in so long, so we met at the café just to catch up. Told him all about my rising fame that he’s heard so much about. He says that he’s very proud of me.”

“Ohh well that’s very good. Although if I might say that if he wasn’t your friend, then you two would make such a cute couple. Now then I’m told of rumors of a tour with you and Queen are about to be in order, is that true?”

“You will have to find that out for yourself darling.” I teased as I literally downed my champagne all the while cursing and thinking of ways to torture Duke for this story.

The interview went on for the rest of the morning and then by around 11:45am, it was all done and I had met Louis outside and he drove me to the studio where I would film the Bridge of Light music video. All the while I kept glaring down at the tabloid before slamming it down to the ground and turning towards the window.

“The press is really milking this story out (y/n), you sure inviting him over to your film shoot was a good idea?” I heard Louis asked.

“I don’t know. But Louis you should’ve seen it. He’s the only boy who talked to me like I was just (y/n) (l/n). Not just (y/n) the Rock Angel like most guys who see me do. All those douchebags either use me for a chance to knock me up or get close to the band, but Jack he—we just sat in that café and just talked and talked and talked for hours on end. God I just hope I haven’t screwed up his life now by being associated with me.”

“The price of fame love, but word of the wise; If this Jack boy is as kind as you claim he is, then he won’t let the press or paparazzi get to him.”

“You really think so?” I asked him hopefully.

“I’m sure love, plus this boy has made you more happier than I’ve ever seen you ever since I started working for you.” I smiled softly and thanked him and he continued driving till we reached the studio.

I walked on in and got into hair and makeup department first and as I was now walking to costuming, I had been told that someone was trying to get in claiming that I was allowing them in. Having received a call from Terry while I was in makeup I knew that it was Jack.

I raced up to security to see that my assumption was correct. I raced up to security and told them that he was allowed and that I gave him my permission to be here. As I gave him a quick tour of the set and once we reached the costume trailer, I turned to him and said.

“Look Jack about the tabloid picture…..”

“You don’t have to explain anything (y/n). I’ve got a good feeling of who it was that took that picture of us anyway.” Jack interrupted me.

“I promise I will try to get the publisher to take that photo off or at least try to come up with a better story than what I did this morning with Andres…..”

“It’s fine (y/n). Besides if you keep changing your story it’ll end up ripping your reputation apart. And I don’t want that to happen to you. Besides I don’t mind being the old American friend.” I smiled.

God this guy was such an angel. I mean I knew that Mary, Dominique, Chrissie and Veronica were understanding of their husbands living like this but never would I expect a guy to be understanding when it came to having a female superstar as a friend/partner.

“Jack Kline you are a literal angel. Now why don’t you go over to set and I will meet you there once I’m done getting fitted into my first costume.”

“Alright, can’t wait to see what the director comes up with for this song.”

“Me neither.” I then stepped inside the costume trailer and Susanna was getting me fitted into my first angel costume.

What Director Silvester Favarou had in mind is that I am the angel singing to an unhealthy, suicidal young man. I am the light that helps guide him when he is un utter darkness. I’m also the leader of a whole guardian angel choir towards the end and at the very end I end up having to wear these beautiful handcrafted and sewed angel wings that literally stand about 7ft from tip to tip.

The whole day was restless and endless as we did take after take, after take of the music video. By the time the clock struck 10pm, the video finally wrapped and surprisingly Jack had stayed for the whole thing.

After the filming, I treated Jack to dinner for being such a good sport about staying so long before having Louis take him home.

Once we arrived at his place, he bid me a goodnight and thanked me for allowing him to see the studio and having a first look at my upcoming music video. I smiled and told him it was no problem before bidding him a goodnight.

Finally after a seriously long day, I finally reached home sweet home. I opened my door and let out a yawn ready to hit the sack.

“You’ve got some serious explaining to do young lady.” I froze in shock. Oh shit it can’t be them. As I turned around there they all stood at the entry way between my front corridor and the living room. Each of them with their arms crossed over their chests staring me down.

Looks like my long night is about to get even longer.

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imwithmars · 6 years ago

Text

Flaunt Magazine 2004 interview

David Fincher – “It goes kind of like, ‘How can you tell when Jared is lying? His lips are moving.’”

Rock & Roles –

Flaunt Magazine, by Shari Roman

December 2004

“This is fantastic,” murmurs Jared Leto as the relentless Moroccan sun sears destiny into his bronzed, bare skin. He is sweating under his tight armor. His dark horse, Mateo, quivers beneath him and paws the ground nervously. A signal is given.

Leto howls a great animalistic yowl straight from his belly to the ears of the gods. There is another howl, then another. Thousands of voices fuse into one animal cry. A legion of alpha males surges forward to meet the enemy, Leto, blond hair hair streaming past his shoulders, muscular thighs gripped bareback on his galloping horse, rides hard into the thick of a bloody combat. His sword cuts through all who oppose him.

This is the filming of Oliver Stone’s Alexander and the legendary battle of Gaugamela, Alexander’s greatest victory over the Persians - a turning point in his conquest of the known world. Stone’s sweeping historical saga charts the life and the legend of one of the greatest figures in world history. The story is an epic that is a daring and ambitious as its subject, a relentless conqueror who, by the age of 32, had amassed the greatest empire the world hade ever seen.

Through the clouds of dust, Leto can see Colin Farrell as Alexander the Great, his massive blade slicing into flesh and sinew. There is the director, Oliver Stone, shouting, moving rapidly behind the camera line. There are hordes of men bellowing, bleeding, bodies everywhere. On the fringes lurks famed military trainer and Stone cohort, Captain Dale Dye. Today, the Captain isn’t wearing his favorite T-shirt emblazoned with the motto: “Pain is weakness leaving the body,” but Leto needs no reminders.

Leto has always propelled himself into physical extremes to live inside a character. As the champion runner Steve Prefontaine, he bled his feet to the bone. In the drug-fueled Requiem For A Dream, he reportedly swore off sex (with then girlfriend, Cameron Diaz) and lost 28 pounds to play a junky. Then there was Fight Club (he’d been recommended for the part his friend, fellow pretty boy, Brad Pitt.), in which he begged to have his angelic face beaten to a pulp by a jealous Ed Norton to prove his fealty. Suffering, pain, causality, creation through transformation. Leto has pledged himself above and beyond to those epithets years ago.

“Killing people face to face for a living, that was their job,” explains a laidback Leto a few months later from a low-key restaurant in Southern California. It’s early afternoon. His clothing is relaxed and he looks pleasantly tired.

“It’s not jet lag. I’m over that. I just couldn’t sleep.” It’s not due to time spent with his (purported) new, luscious It-girl Scarlett Johansson. He’s been concentrating on working on some new songs for his band, 30 Seconds To Mars, taking meetings between rehearsals before he heads off to New York and South Africa for three months to play another aggressor of sorts - an arms dealer - in the film Lord of War, with Nicolas Cage and director Andrew Niccol (Gattaca).

He is still pretty tan, making those pioneering blue eyes even more startling. His long, blonde warrior-god locks are gone now, dyed and clipped into a light brown Erik Estrada-style shag for the new movie. But there is still a trace of the Irish lilt he took on for Alexander. (Aside from gearing it toward Farrell’s natural tones, Stone’s rationale for the accent was that historically, the Macedonians were to the Greeks what the Irish have been to the English.) Most of the 15 pounds of muscle weight that he strapped on for the six-month shoot has slipped from his slim frame. Even so, the intensity of that experience is still on his mind and in his body.

“The film has plenty of f***ing and fighting and killing and death and blood. My job was to murder people and stand by Alexander.” who, according to history, was his best friend since childhood, and his lover.

“Hephaestion, the character I play, and [Alexander] have a really special connection. It’s a strong, strong relationship. I don’t think there is a term we have today to define their relationship,” he says, deliberately muddling around the oft-asked erotic question.

Farrell says, “There was no term for 'bisexuality’. It was just the way society was. People made love to men and women. It was only later on you had to pick one side of the fence.”

“But I promise you, in the film,” Leto teases, despite the magnetic charms of Farrell, and costars Rosario Dawson and Angelina Jolie, who play Alexander’s wife and mother, “the only kiss I gave out was to my horse. My one true love.”

He takes the tape recorder and places it gently against his chest, which holds within it the soul of a man who many have tried to reveal before. “I always tell the truth. What else do you want to know? What do people really want to know? What is the truth?” His face is a pure cheeky choir boy dare. “When have I ever not told you the truth? How can you tell that I’m lying?”

I remind him that the last time we met, he told me he owned three Uzis, that the first girl he kissed was a 47-year-old tranny named Jorge, that he was 19, raised by circus performers, and that he studied art at the American University of Paris for a semester, but was booted out when he wouldn’t give in to the attentions of the headmaster. And he wouldn’t back down to any of those “facts”.

He laughs. “Really? As Ronald Regan used to say, 'I have no memory of saying such things.’ ”

Says producer/director David Fincher, who worked with Leto on both Fight Club and Panic Room, “When it comes to his acting, he is beyond method. He gets into this whole image of his character. It is interesting how that kind of pain and sacrifice can translate. I mean, look at Requiem. I wish I had 100 Jareds working for me. He was amazing.

"Jared definitely strives not to be a victim of his genetics. On the films we did together, he was the guy who is constantly curious, the one you couldn’t bottle up. The one who wouldn’t hit his mark. He was like, 'Hey, I’m living it! Over here!’ But he does like to tell stories. It goes kind of like, 'How can you tell when Jared is lying? His lips are moving.’ ”

Leto, who prefers to see his playful fibbing as a way to keep his private life private, was born the day after Christmas, 33 years ago, in Bossier City, Louisiana. His mother was an artistic soul, and with his father out of the picture, he and his brother, Shannon (who is also in 30 Seconds To Mars), traveled a great deal while they were growing up. After a stint at New York’s School of Visual Arts, he says, he came to Los Angeles around 12 years ago with a couple hundred bucks in his pocket, no friends, and nowhere to stay. For awhile, he slept on Venice Beach. Then kaboom! a role on television’s My So-Called Life (opposite Claire Daines) and for the next few years, he reigned as a teen pinup - a tag and a look he has been successfully living down ever since.

According to Leto, “Luck is the residue of destiny.” It’s a phrase he’s heard which he likes very much. He feels it means that we can get caught up in so many things, but the world has what it has for us. That, in our natural state, everything is the way it’s supposed to be - free and joyous - and that our own insecurities get in the way of all that. It’s an idea which could be applied to his early life.

“When I was young, all that traveling was exciting,” says Leto. “You do develop an ability to read people more quickly. You have to learn to adapt to whatever comes along, to survive. Maybe the way I grew up is why I’m drawn to acting, to different characters. From film to film, I’m constantly finding myself, reaching different places outside and inside myself. I want to change, to morph into something else.” To be able to do that for Oliver Stone is a gift, says Leto. “He is one of my f***ing heroes. He is a great man. Present, connected, very physical. I find his way very endearing.”

To work with Stone, he traveled to Morocco, where the oncoming sunset had turned the world orange, into the color of dark rust. But the sky was growing dark, the golden scorpions were scuttling under the rocks, another sandstorm was moving toward the camp, fast.

Within moments, Leto, wearing his usual training gear - a T-shirt, tight shorts, boots covering his calves - couldn’t see two feet ahead of him. The sand whipped raw against his skin as he made for his tent. Inside, he tightened the flap and listened to the wind howl. He had switched off his cell phone, his e-mail. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in the U.S. for months. Apocalyptic fantasies crowded his brain. Many in the cast had already been horribly sick. There was a virus in the dust. His tent was next door to the latrine and he could hear cast and crew heave by the dozens.

One night, Leto got so sick, he thought he was going to toss a spleen.“I lay in bed for a couple of hours staring at the stars, just breathing really slow, willing it away. I fell asleep dreaming strange, surreal dreams. When I woke up, it was gone. That’s the desert.”

Says Dawson, “It was beyond primal, all those men bonding - horse training, fighting, all buffed up wearing nearly nothing. And as soon as a woman came on set, the energy was so damn erotic.

"One time Jared came to visit the hotel [where women stayed]. He was so happy to be there. He got to take a shower, have some proper food.So he’s talking, sitting there, and just sort of adjusting the package, not sexually, but in this slow, languorous way, like there was no one else around.It was all suited to his character, but I was like, 'Hey dude…’

"And he was like, 'I’m sorry! We’re out there in our underwear and boots all the time… maybe it’s got us a little too relaxed.’ Maybe. But it was all good.” She bats her eyes.“It was wonderful being around that kind of really masculine environment.”

“Oh, Rosario,” responds Leto, “she is so beautiful. Such a great woman.” He drops his head, smiling, not exactly asking for forgiveness.“Working on Alexander was an amazing experience. It’s all about connectivity. There is an old saying that the greatest leader is the servant of them all. Meaning, you are the most powerful when you are giving.”

“I think that as an artist, in any kind of expression of creation, that you must have to be in love with the process. It is the most exciting part of the work, and that if you have a desire for greatness, you will have to be willing to f***ing bleed. I think it’s true for me.That’s what drives me.”

He claps his hands over his face. “F***. People are going to read this and think, 'What the f***? Is weirdo Leto on crack? Hitting the old acid tab again.’ But honestly, it’s what I believe. One of my favorite things about getting older is that my intuition is often wrong.To me, it means I’m uncovering something new about the world.

#flaunt magazine #jared leto #2004 #interview #did i ever post this?#he used to give great and funny interviews

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afjakwritesarchive · 6 years ago

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Title: Explosive Love Pairing: USUK Genre: Romance/Comedy Words: 972 AU: Human Summary: Nurse Kirkland meets a flirtatious American in the emergency room on the Fourth of July. A/N: This is very hastily written and I haven’t looked anything over, so please feel free to point out mistakes! Happy Fourth of July y’all!!!

“We got another one!”

Nurse Kirkland couldn’t help but to heave a sigh. This was the twentieth patient to come into the emergency room tonight with a firework-related injury. He knew he shouldn’t expect anything less from a midsized Pennsylvania city on the Fourth of July, but Christ, did every American man in the whole city lack common sense? It was like they had a death wish! Of course, the vast majority of his patients were obviously intoxicated, which explained the recklessness.

“Alright, I’ll be right there,” he sighed as he finished off his third cup of tea and snatched a clipboard off the counter. As he walked down the hallway to a room with the door open, he swallowed his annoyance and forced his expression into one of neutrality. Then, he stepped inside…

...And his well-practiced neutral facade slipped away instantly. Not only was the patient seated before him covered from head to toe in a ridiculous amount of red, white and blue, but he was also quite easily the most handsome man Nurse Kirkland had ever seen. Tan skin, golden blond hair, bright blue eyes, plush pink lips, and—and missing half of eyebrows. Ah. Arthur felt a disappointed frown settle on his face, realizing that even the handsome man before him was just as prone to firework-related idiocy as the rest of the patients he’d seen today.

“Hello,” Arthur said. “Can you please state your name?”

“Alfred Foster Jones,” answered the other man. God, even his voice was attractive—sweet and smooth and containing just the slightest twinge of a Southern accent.

“Alright, Alfred,” Arthur said, jotting that down. “Can you tell me your date of birth?”

“Today, 1998.”

Arthur looked up from his clipboard, raising one large brow. “Today?”

“Yep, I was born on the Fourth of July.” Alfred nodded, a lopsided grin on his face. “Are you British? That’s like, so hot.”

Arthur scribbled Alfred’s birthdate down and then set the clipboard down on the counter. “Yes, I am,” he answered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Alfred laughed, the sound sweet music to Arthur’s ears. “Man, you must hate us! How many drunk guys’ve come in missing a finger so far?”

Arthur shook his head. “Enough to make me wonder why it is that they still allow the sale of fireworks.” He deadpanned.

Again, Alfred laughed. Despite himself, Arthur felt pride welling up at being the one to make such a handsome, sunny-smiled man happy and a slight blush came to his pale cheeks. Even so, he steeled himself—this was another dangerously patriotic American playing with fireworks, he reminded himself, and no amount of charm could make up for idiocy.

“Well, sorry to add to the list, man—although I can’t complain when they gave me such a cute nurse.”

Arthur’s face went up in flames and he quickly shook his head, declining to respond to the comment which had set his heart racing. Instead, he asked in as calm a tone as he could manage while screaming internally, “Exactly how close to your face were you holding the firework?”

Alfred blinked. “What? I wasn’t holding it!” He exclaimed. “My dad was holding it and got startled, knocked it over just as it went off. Nearly blew my head off! C’mon, I’m not stupid to let a firework go off in my hand!”

Arthur couldn’t help but for his heart to lift a bit at that. He knew it was stupid to develop a crush on a patient, especially one that was so obviously out of his league, but god, he’d never seen a man like that before. He was so handsome Arthur could hardly think straight—pun intended.

“Alright. Do you have pain or burning anywhere else?”

“Kinda, on my arm,” Alfred said, raising his right arm.

After quickly inspecting Alfred’s arm and treating it accordingly, he did a routine checkup on the American. Alfred seemed to be in perfect health aside from the slight burns on his arm, which relieved Arthur. It saved him time as well as the trouble of the paperwork which accompanied a prescription. Instead, he was able to quickly record what little information he did need from Alfred and recommend a simple treatment plan for the minor burns Alfred had sustained.

“Thanks, man,” Alfred said, leaning forward. He squinted at Arthur’s nametag and then smiled slyly. “I mean, Nurse Kirkland.”

“You’re welcome,” replied Arthur curtly. “You’re good to go. I’d stay away from fireworks for the rest of the night if I were you.”

“Aw, man, already? I was having fun lookin’ at ya,” the American said, giving Arthur a faux-pout.

“Oh? Was it my dirty scrubs or my eyebrows that amused you?”

Alfred grinned. “Amused? Dude, I wasn’t laughing at you—I think you’re hot!”

Arthur blinked, taken aback. Sure, Alfred had been flirting with him the entire time they’d been in the room together, but he’d figured it was nothing more than a practical joke. Surely a man that handsome and happy couldn’t take an interest in a stodgy, sarcastic man like him. And yet, Alfred stood up—god, he was bloody tall!—and leaned closer to Arthur, grinning down at him.

“Whaddya say I take you out sometime?”

Arthur glanced up and down Alfred’s figure and then grinned. “Is that before or after your eyebrows grow back?”

“Does it look that bad?” Alfred laughed.

“Mm, no—the rest of you more than makes up for it,” said Arthur, mentally congratulating himself for his smooth reply.

“Oh? Is that a yes, then?”

Arthur’s heart fluttered in his chest when Alfred’s bright eyes looked down into his. “That’s a yes,” he affirmed.

As he jotted his phone number down onto the back of Alfred’s hand, Arthur decided that perhaps Fourth of July fireworks weren’t so bad—after all, what was life without a bit of a spark?

#aph #usuk #aph usuk #my writing #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland #usuk fic #aph fic #hetalia fic

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askmissthunder · 6 years ago

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I thought it went great, especially since it was my first time throwing this type of party!

Eli arrived early to give me a hand tidying up, mainly with vacuuming and dusting. It had been a while since I had new guests over and the last thing I wanted them to think was I lived in a pig sty. Cassie would've helped too, but she was busy rounding up the girls since none of them knew where I lived.

Talon arrived early as well in the only way she could: up the fire escape and outside my balcony. Eli and I nearly leaped out of our skins when she knocked on the glass door.

"You know I have a front door, right?", I asked, letting her in.

"Yes but too many people would know I was coming into your building. They might ask questions."

"Sure, because climbing up the side of the building is so inconspicuous."

I saw that despite Talon's glum attitude, she was already dressed for the occasion, wearing a Slayer T-shirt with torn off sleeves and dark flannel pajama pants.

Seeing her sleeping clothes only reminded me that Cassie's friends would have to be subjected to seeing me in my sleeping clothes. And by "sleeping clothes", I mean some of my Nan's old Circus Fat Lady costumes and let's just say that Nan wasn't afraid to show off some skin back in the day.

As I finished putting up some snack trays (lots of Halloween sweets and frosted pumpkin biscuits), I heard Eli give a loud sniff.

"What do you smell, luv?", I asked with a smile.

*Sniff!*

"Lots of hair products..."

*Sniff sniff!*

"Nail polish and old socks..."

*SNIFF*

"Mmm! Candy apples! Penny, the girls are here!"

"Yippee.", Talon said monotonously, setting up her sleeping bag on the floor.

Not even a minute later, my flat's intercom buzzed.

I trotted over by the front door to answer, "Hello?"

Cassie's voice crackled through, "Hey, girl! We're all here!"

"Fantastic! Come on up, then!"

I turned towards Eli, "Wow, luv! You smelled them all the way at the bottom floor!"

Eli leaned back against the wall, smiling smugly, "Well, when you got a nose like mine..."

I pinched his cheek playfully as I remembered I had to play the part of huge fat girl with very limited mobility and took my spot on the couch.

It wasn't long before there was a rapping at my chamber door. Eli, ever the dutiful boyfriend, opened it with a theatrical bow. "Enter! If you dare...", he said in a mock Vincent Price voice.

In the doorway, stood Cassie and the Dance Squad. "HEEEEY!", they all shouted in unison as they marched in, all of them carrying duffel bags, pillows, and blankets.

"Hello, hello, girls!", I greeted, waving excitedly.

"Wow, Penny!", Karen exclaimed, spinning around, "You got such a big place!"

I chuckled, gesturing to my body "Well, it has to accommodate all of this, you know?"

"Ah didn't know what food y'all might have but Ah brought some caramel apples straight from home!", Amanda stated, holding up a tray filled with the scrumptious delights. I looked at Eli who gave me a knowing wink.

"Damn, girl! These are all yours?", Tamika asked, pointing at the boxes and stacks of vinyl records, cassettes, and CDs I had in the corner of my living room next to my stereo. It was hard to miss.

"I told you Penny's a music buff!", Cassie said while dropping her gym bag, claiming the spot. "Go ahead! Ask her anything about music!"

"Okay, what year did....oh, the Thiller album come out?", Stacey questioned.

I grinned, "1982."

"Pssh! I could've told you that!", Lailani stated, "Let me try."

She looked through my vinyl selection and gave a sly smile. "Penny, in the Indigo Girls album, Strange Fire, what is the sixth track?"

"Ah, that's a trick question. In the original Canadian release, it was 'Hey Jesus' but I have the American re-release, so Track 6 is 'Get Together', a cover originally by the Youngbloods."

The girls all "Oooooh"ed at that.

Deb stepped up, "All right, all right, I got one!"

She cleared her throat and sang, "Dah! Dah dah! Dah dah dah dah dah dah! Dah! Dah dah! Dah dah dah dah dah dah dah!"

"Serenade No. 13 in G Major, more commonly known as Eine kleine Nachtmusik by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."

Deb threw her arms up, "Damn! And I just watched Amadeus last week! I give, Penny. Cassie wasn't just bullshitting us as usual."

"Oh, hush!", Cassie snapped back, "I would never joke about Penny's music knowledge! And what the hell do you mean 'as usual', Miss 'there are alligators in the sewers' ?!"

"There are alligators! Just not in Ocean City! They only live in New York, you yutz!"

They both stuck their tongues out at each other for a moment before going into a giggle fit.

Stacey rolled her eyes, "Don't mind them. Not a day goes by without Deb antagonizing somebody."

Cassie gathered her composure and clapped her hands authoritatively to the dance squad, "All right, ladies! Pick out a spot! Get comfy while I'll go ahead and get those pizza pies ordered! Four of everything, right?"

"No anchovies!", Amanda spoke up.

"Yes, and for the love of God, no pineapple.", Tamika added.

"Aww!", Karen whined, "I like pineapple. And pickles. And asparagus. And Froot Loops."

"I'll get one pineapple pizza for you, Kare.", Cassie said comfortingly, "But only one."

"Yay!"

If nothing else, the party was a good excuse to get the know Cassie's friends better, especially since we would be waiting a while for our rather large pizza order to arrive. Mainly things like Cassie has been friends with Joanie, Tamika, and Stacey since their primary school days while Amanda, Karen, Deb and Lailani have only joined their circle in college.

Joanie, who you may remember made my Belle costume last year, is a Fashion major, hoping to make it big in the New York fashion scene. If my costume was evidence of her hard work and dedication to the craft, I suspect we might be seeing models sporting her designs in the near future.

Tamika is one of Cassie's oldest friends as both of their Mums were in the same theater company so they practically grew up together. Like Cassie, she's also extremely passionate about dancing. While her main goal is to become the next big Broadway star, she also want to open up her own dance studio.

Stacey, Cassie claims, is the "Team Mom", always looking out for the others whenever they go out or making goals for them to accomplish with their dancing. It's not that much of a surprise, considering she's a All-A student with a 4.0 GPA who's also part of the debate team and has a job on the side as a babysitter.

Amanda, as her accent might have revealed, is a country girl straight from Kentucky. Her family owns a dairy farm and a small orchard so she's not afraid to get her hands dirty. She's has that nice southern hospitality but she can get pretty rowdy as well, seeing how she nearly punched one of my bullies, Bianca, after she insulted Tamika. I asked her why she would come all the way to Ocean City for college. She responded, " 'Cause of the ocean, of course! We got lakes and rivers in Kentucky but Ah've never seen the ocean before! Ah figured Ah could use a change of scenery for my schoolin'. "

Deb is a New Yorker, through and through. She's loud, she can be abrasive and she's definitely not afraid to tell it like it is. (Except for volume, not too different from Talon but don't tell her I said that!) While she does have a habit of teasing the other girls for shits and giggles, at the end of the day, she's a loyal friend who's always got your back whether it be help for a complicated dance technique or lending a hand with changing a flat tire.

Lailani immigrated from the Philippines with her family when she was just a baby. While she's a gifted dancer, having trained in ballet since she was little, I was surprised to learn she's a talented magician as well! Poor Eli, having no experience with slight-of-hand, was beside himself as her card tricks baffled him to no end.

Karen is...odd, to put it kindly. She seems to space out constantly and blurt out whatever pops in her hear at the moment. "Hey, do you know horned lizards shoot out blood from their eyes as a defense mechanism? That'd be cool to do, just like 'Hey, get away!' and go 'squirt'! Heh heh!" Deb tells me Karen is like this due to her parents being former hippies and might have conceived her while tripping on acid or so she claims.

Cassie had told the girls that this was my first slumber party so they were all eager to give me the "classic" slumber party experience. Makeovers, games, talking about boys (or girls), the works. As I promised, I made sure the girls didn't bother Talon, who only gave a piercing glare at they pulled out their makeup kits.

While the girls partnered up, Eli decided to give Talon some company by playing Street Fighter II on my Genesis. Cassie browsed through my music library to play some mood music as a flurry of eyeliners, lipsticks and nail polish went wild.

youtube

I'm still not used to putting on makeup except for special or formal events, but even then it was my Mum who usually applied it. However, while trying to decide what to put on my face, Stacey only made a puzzled look.

"What's wrong?", I asked nervously, fearful that she would say no amount of makeup in the world would make me look presentable.

"Nothing. It's just...you don't really need that much makeup, Penny. You have very clear skin."

"Heh. A few years ago, my face was pretty damn spotty."

"Really? You don't have any acne scars or anything like that. What'd you do?"

Of course, I couldn't tell her that when I received my powers, it not only made me taller and fatter, it also cleared my skin and fixed my vision.

"Umm...just got committed to washing my face more thoroughly and acne cream, I guess?"

She smiled, "I'll admit I feel a bit jealous. I wish my face and skin were as nice as yours. I sweat even a teensy bit, my face practically explodes with zits."

The idea that somebody was actually envious of me, even if it was just my skin, was an alien concept to me. I gave out a snort, "Give over! I know you're not jealous of all this. What with my chipmunk cheeks and quadruple chins!"

Stacey's brow furrowed a bit, "Hey now. I wouldn't fib to you about that!"

She leaned over her shoulder and yelled to Joanie, who was busy applying facial cream to Amanda. "Joanie! Doesn't Penny have a super pretty face?"

"Oh, yeah, those big green eyes are to die for, Penny! Eli's a lucky guy!"

"Hell yeah, I am!", Eli called out, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"If you say so...", I muttered as Stacey applied very light touches of eyeliner.

It wasn't long before the intercom buzzed.

Cassie let out a loud gasp as she scrambled to her feet, "It's here!"

Pushing the button, she let out a a chipper "Y'ello?"

A man's voice came from the other side, "Yeah, I got an order of four pepperoni, four mushroom, four cheese, four Italian sausage, four Canadian bacon, four supremes, four-"

"Yes, yes! That's us! Come on up!", Cassie interrupted, practically bouncing on her feet as we could all hear her stomach give a tremendous growl.

"Cassie!", Tamika yelped, her eyes wide from surprise, "How are you still hungry?! You literally ate three foot-long hot dogs on the way over here!"

"Yeah, where the hell do you put it all?", Amanda added.

Cassie lifted up her shirt and rubbed her trim belly with the slightest hint of abs showing. "Hee hee! You girls should know by now that I got an appetite! It may be small but there's always room in my tummy!"

Everybody got up to help the poor pizza man out as he had stacks and stacks of pizza boxes to carry in. I could only imagine what he must've thought seeing a gang of scantily clad college girls in various states of make-up, a handsome shaggy-haired boy, a tall buff girl staring daggers at him ("He might be an assassin."), and a massive blob of a girl stuck on the couch.

Then came two of the more harrowing moments of the party.

First, and as I said before, I decided to put on my "pajamas". It was a dark blue silk two-piece outfit consisting of a tank top and shorts. I would feel a little more comfortable with it if it did a better job of covering my belly. The sad thing is this is the more conservative piece as the others tend to be more like nighties with short skirts.

With Cassie and Eli "helping" me walk to my room then back into the living room, I was certain the girls would stop and stare at this half-naked super fat girl in their midst. It certainly didn't help my mood by seeing all the girls in their sleeping clothes, mainly tank tops, crop tops and short shorts, showing off their super toned dancer bodies.

If it bothered them, they didn't show it as they happily munched on pizza and only gave friendly smiles as I plopped back down on the couch. What shocked me most was that Karen actually got up and laid her head against my belly. I couldn't help but give a small yelp at the sensation of somebody other than Eli or Cassie touching my body.

"Ooh! You're really warm, Penny! And soft! Girls, come try this out!", she called out to the others as she nuzzled her head deeper and deeper into my blubber like an overly affectionate cat. Stacey was about to scold her for her cheekiness but it was too late, the girls were upon me like piranha to a piece of meat. It was...very surreal, to say the least, mostly because I was certain at least one of them would find me gross. Instead, they softly kneaded my fat, giving "oohs" and "aahs" at the sensation.

I know I probably should've told them to knock it off but as long as they weren't doing it out of malice, what was the harm?

The other harrowing moment was one I was both excited and fearful for: Talon's Halloween Movie Selection. Knowing Talon's tastes, it wasn't going to be a classic Universal Monster movie or a cheesy 50's B-Movie. As the girls' attentions was on me, they failed to notice Talon quietly going through her duffel bag and pull out a hefty stack of rental movies from the video store.

She cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Which one do you want to watch first?", she muttered. In her hands, she held An American Werewolf in London, Zombie, Last House on the Left, The Evil Dead, The Beyond, Intruder, The Shining and Suspiria.

I must be like a giant teddy bear to everybody as Eli took his usual spot atop my right hip, his weight sinking into my fat. The girls followed suit, laying their heads against my legs and belly. Only Talon refused to join in with the others, knowing that she doesn't like intimate contact at all.

While most of the movies were, well, scary and shocking and disgusting and gory, Suspiria was probably the one that got under the girls' skin as it took place in a dance school. A little too close to home, that one.

"Oh God, I'd hate to fall into a pit of razor wire like that!", Lailani gulped, thinking of the grim fate of one victim.

"What if Miss Avery was a witch?!", Amanda squeaked out, thinking of their dance instructor, "Didn't she go to Germany for some convention last year?"

"Fuck me, you're right!" Deb cursed, "Is she part of a coven?!"

Karen giggled, "Maybe if we dress up as witches at practice, she won't try to kill us. She'll think 'I can't kill them! They're my fellow witches!'."

"Oh, you sweet, sweet innocent child.", Joanie said, rubbing Karen's head, "I know it was just a movie but...jeez!"

"Why did that dog attack his owner?", Eli asked sadly, "Is he okay?"

"No! He got his throat ripped out!", Tamika answered, "You don't walk away from that!"

"I was talking about the dog. Did he find a new owner?"

Sensing Eli's distress, I held his hand and gave him a peck on the cheek. "It's all right, sweetie. I'm sure he's fine, although he may want to lay low for a while."

Looking around me, I could tell that Eli wasn't the only one stressed out. We did just watch several horror movies back to back so all the girls seemed on edge. Except Talon who was trying to fight off a losing battle against sleep, her eyes looking very droopy.

"Do you all want to watch something a little more...cheerier?", I asked, the image of the woman getting her eye stabbed out in Zombie, still fresh in my mind.

Eli, Cassie and the Girls all looked at me and solemnly nodded.

(A half hour later...)

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"OH WELLA WELLA WELLA UH

TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE

DID YOU GET VERY FAR?

TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE

LIKE DOES HE HAVE A CAR?"

We all sang at the top of our lungs as we watched Grease in the wee morning hours while Talon slept on, snuggled up in her sleeping bag and ear plugs firmly in place.

Happy very, very, VERY Belated Halloween, everybody!

#Seriously #I'm so sorry that this is so late #I hope everyone had a good Halloween though

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coffeeflavoredtearsold · 6 years ago

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Prompt: Cuddling inside during a thunderstorm.

Pairing: Jamilton (Alexander Hamilton x Thomas Jefferson)

Word Count: 1330

———————————

Alexander looked to Jefferson with a sigh. They had stayed after hours to get some filing completed early. It had started to rain, which was fine and all, but when it started to get heavier, was when the problems began.

Alexander knew that Jefferson had no idea how he tended to get during storms. He was always careful in hiding it. But his simple mistake of forgetting to check the weather had led him to be stuck in an office building with Thomas fucking Jefferson of all people. He silently wished John, Laf, or Herc were there. They knew how to make it better.

“Come on Alexander, It’s getting a little late, we should get going,” Jefferson said, snapping Alexander from his thoughts.

“Oh, yea.” Alexander looked over to him as a clap of thunder roared outside. “I-I’ll be right back…” He mumbled before running off to his office, hiding under the desk and closing his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

———————————

Thomas looked in the direction of where the smaller man had run off. With a small sigh, he left the filing room, walking to his office to retrieve his things. Once he had all his stuff he began to walk to the exit, stopping outside Hamilton’s office. He could hear muffled sobs and mutterings, pausing to decide if he should record it to embarrass Hamilton, or just be nice to him for once.

Choosing the latter, Thomas walked into the office, going behind the desk to see Hamilton sitting there, curled up in a ball crying. Kneeling down to be level to him, he was able to make out what the small man was saying.

“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to drown. I’m gonna drown. I’m gonna drown.”

“Hamilton, are you alright?” Thomas asked, gently setting a hand on Hamilton’s knee.

“I’m gonna die. Help me. I’m stuck. I can’t escape.”

“Hamilton, what are you going on about? It’s just a thunderstorm. You’re fine.”

“I’m stuck.” Hamilton said louder. “I’m stuck and I’m gonna drown!”

“No you’re not. You’re just fine.”

“I’m gonna drown!”

When Hamilton didn’t stop his ramblings, Thomas decided to grab his phone, which had been set next to him, but before he could call anyone, it started ringing. Thomas answered it. He figured whoever was calling would know what was going on right now.

“He-” He began, but was cut off by the voice on the other side.

“Alex! Where are you? Are you okay? Take deep breaths, you’re gonna be fine.”

“Umm… Who is this…?” He asked reluctantly.

“Wait, Jefferson? What the hell? Where is Alex? Is he okay? Where is he?” The voice was familiar and worried. It took him a moment before realizing it was Laurens.

“He’s right here. He’s freaking out for no reason.” Thomas spoke quietly, once again resting his hand on Hamilton’s knee.

“It-” he was silent for a moment. “It’s the storm. He’s terrified of the storms.”

“Oh… What should I do? He keeps saying he’s drowning and he’s gonna die.”

“How bad is he right now?” Laurens seemed to be growing increasingly worried.

“Like, I don’t even think he hears me.”

“Shit… Just, like…. Hold on to him…. Make sure he knows someone is there. Oh, and keep speaking to him. Tell him it’s going to be okay, that kind of thing.”

“Okay…. I’ll text you if he gets worse…”

“Don’t hurt him…And if he mentions a Jackie, it’s me…. ”

“I won’t… and alright….”

“Okay…”

The line went dead, and Thomas set the phone down. He sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around him. “Shhh…. It’s going to be alright….”

Hamilton continued to shake and cry. “I-I can’t move!”

“Shhh.. breathe Alexander…” He continued to hold him and whisper, gently running a hand through his hair. After a while he slowly began to calm down, clinging to Thomas as if his life depended on it.

———————————

Almost as soon as Alexander noticed someone was there, he grabbed onto them, continuig to cry. He thought it was John, so he stayed there, enjoying the comfort of his best friend. He stayed like this until he started to pay attention to the voice.

“Just take deep breaths…” He hear the voice say.

“J-Jack-ie?” He said between sobs.

“No… John isn’t here.” He could hear a southern accent this time, and slowly lifted his eyes up to see Jefferson, holding onto him underneath his desk.

“W-wait why are you h-here? Where’s John? Oh god, please don’t say anything about this to anyone, Washington might think of me as a liability if he knew-”

He was cut off by Jefferson. ”Don’t worry about it… John had called and told me…. I won’t say anything of this to anyone”

Alexander nodded and laid his head down on the other man’s chest. He stayed there for a moment before noticing Jefferson run a hand through his hair. Turning his head up a little bit to look at him, he spoke. “Why are you being nice, instead of just recording this? It would be quite the way to get me out of your way.”

“Just because we argue at work and have opposing political views doesn’t mean I hate you or want you gone…”

“Oh…. What time is it?”

“Almost 1 in the morning.”

“Oh. We should get going then…” He sat up and wiped his face, looking out the window. He saw rain, which he figured wouldn’t be an issue until he heard more thunder. Almost instinctively he yelped and moved back farther under his desk.

“You alright?” Thomas sat up and looked to him quizzically.

“C-can I stay with you t-tonight?”

“Yea… That’s fine. But we should leave before it gets worse out there.”

Alexander nodded and began getting up, watching Jefferson as he did so.

———————————

By the time the two of them got in the car, they were both soaked, and Hamilton was shaking again. Thomas drove slowly to his house, letting Hamilton squeeze his hand on the way. When they arrived, They quickly got out, making their way inside.

Once inside, Thomas grabbed Hamilton’s hand again and led him to one for the spare bathrooms. “Why don’t you hop in the shower? I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

Hamilton nodded and Thomas let go, heading to his room to grab something dry. He ended up grabbing an old shirt and sweatpants, which he knew would probably devour the small man, but smiled at the thought and brought the clothing to him.

Thomas knocked on the door before opening it up to set the clothing down on the sink and leaving. He decided to go hop into the shower himself, leaving Hamilton to his own devices.

———————————

By the time Alexander was done in the shower and dressed in the gigantic clothing Jefferson had given him, he went back into the livingroom, curling up on the couch. He was alright, however, until he heard lightning and yelped, pulling his knees closer to his chest. After a few minutes of hearing the storm progressively get worse, he closed his eyes.

Alexander didn’t notice how long it had been until he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him. He opened his eyes as Thomas carefully pulled him into his lap, cradling Alexander like a baby. If it were any other night, he probably would have yelled at whoever grabbed him like that, but in the current situation, they were in he just leaned into him, enjoying the comfort.

“You alright?” He heard Jefferson ask.

Alexander nodded and closed his eyes once again. He quickly dozed off, and the next thing he knew he was being carried somewhere. He felt himself be set down onto a bed, and the last thing he heard that night was a soft “Goodnight, Alex.”

#jamilton #hamilton #jefferson #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #jamilton fic #jamilton fanfic #jamilton fanfiction #prompted writing #writing prompt

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blackberryblindside · 6 years ago

Text

The People We Become

So this is part of @lesbiansassemble 's 10k follower writing challenge! This is the first chapter of six, three of which are already on ao3. This does mention death, but in a hypothetical way, there is no actual character death in the story. I hope you enjoy!

The first time May asked Peggy to marry her, it was 4.15 a.m. The then clear October night sky was devoid of any stars for May to wish on, and she, not for the first time, cursed the bright lights that spilled from Manhattan into her little Forest Hills apartment.

She searched the skyline for a flash of her nephew, a boy on a mission to save the people of Queens in all the little ways. Peter was supposed to be home more than four hours ago, and when she didn’t hear the floorboards creaking as she came from her afternoon shift at the hospital, she had started to worry. She was off the clock at midnight on Fridays and got home by 12.45 from the medical centre, the one in Kew Gardens only a few subways stops away from her bed and her nephew.

Peter usually waited for her to come home while in May's room, on his laptop while sitting on her bed or using the first aid kit tucked into her nightstand. He always stayed up until she was home, and since he had turned thirteen a snack Peter prepared was always sitting on the kitchen counter for her as she laid her bag down and said hello to her nephew, who would have already come bounding around the corner to greet her.

There used to be something Ben made, too, but his place on the counter had been empty for two and a half years now. May had long decided the spot would stay empty.

But tonight there had been no food, no greeting, no nephew almost-asleep in the centre of her bed, curled up in a ball like he was trying to protect himself. There was just silence, an empty apartment that sounded exactly like the one from her nightmares, the ones where Peter didn’t come home and the news was filled with a spider who didn’t get back up.

So she called him once, twice, one-hundred-sixty-six times until the clock struck two-ten and she sat her bag on the counter, pacing as she had since the creeping feeling that something was wrong had hit, worrying at her bottom lip like she had since she confirmed it.

Her fist voicemail was coherent. “Peter, please, call me. I need to know you’re okay. I love you, I hope to god you’re not hurt. Please, please, please be okay. I need you to be okay.”

She hesitated. “Scratch that, I need you to be alive.” Her voice broke just as the recording ended, a panicky sound that caught in her throat sharply.

The thirty after that devolved, the last being a plead to Peter caught in her sobs.

Soon his voicemail box filled and she was left calling without being able to say a word.

After calling Tony Stark and his assistant in turns until two-forty and getting no response, she sat down.

She finally gave up calling, the phone in her hand near dying.

She checked the news and heard nothing but a story about an attack in Oslo and a local string of robberies already thwarted by Spider-man.

She couldn't check hospitals, couldn't call the police and ask if they knew where Peter was without mentioning that he was last seen wearing a super suit with a glaringly obvious spider on the chest.

So she said nothing, just plugged her phone in and waited for it to ring, staring at the dark sky and hoping for a shooting star in red and blue.

At 3:36 someone rang the downstairs doorbell, the buzz pulling May out a dizzying vision of Peter on the ground with blood pooling around him, a bullet wound just where Ben’s had been. She immediately rang the person in, not even stopping to think it could be someone other than Peter.

She knew that if she did, it would become all the more apparent that it couldn't be. Peter had keys, and if his bag had been stolen he wouldn't be asking to be buzzed in as Spider-Man. That's what he used the fire escape for.

May knew that if Peter wasn't picking up, her late-night visitor had to do with him. She wasn't so naïve as to assume the visit was a friendly one, and yet she hoped beyond hope, waiting for the sound of any familiar footsteps.

When she heard a familiar clicking noise coming from an unfamiliar set of footsteps coming down the silent hallway and a knock that was too abrupt to be Peter’s rather silly one, she grabbed a kitchen knife from the utensil drawer and opened the door quickly, the knife by the person's throat before the hinges had fully swung open.

It was a woman with dark hair and dark red lipstick, startled slightly by the blade but with a glint in her eye that said she had seen worse that a skinny lady with a steak knife. She spoke. “I'll get right to the point. Peter is alive and recovering now. He will be fine. I assumed you wanted to hear that before any explanations I could ever give.”

Relief flooded through May like a Rockaway beach wave at the woman’s matter-of-fact declaration and she lowered the knife to her side, nearly dropping it as she relaxed tension that had been building for hours. “Thank you.” She stepped aside, gesturing into the quiet apartment. The dark-haired woman walked inside, the click of her heels against the floor now reassuring instead of ominous.

May lead them into the kitchen, pulling out two cups. “Water, juice, soda, or something stronger?”

The dark-haired woman smiled, the lipstick parting way for bright white, if slightly crooked teeth, and a pretty smile. “Whiskey, if you've got it.” Her British accent was soothing, but there was something odd about it. She was obviously from southern England, but May couldn't discern further, and she was usually good at that sort of thing.

May put the plastic New York Mets cup half-full of whiskey in front of the woman and kept the Hannukah mug for herself. “Thank you again. I got home and he wasn't here. I tried calling but no one answered and I was in a frenzy.” She took a long sip from her mug, letting the burn of the whiskey in her throat soothe her frayed nerves.

“When did you get home?” The woman asked, mimicking May with a slow sip of her drink.

“12.40 or so? It's all been kind of a blur. I noticed he wasn't here and immediately went into protective aunt mode.” As the almost-shock wore off May was starting to realise how tired and hungry she was, hunger vying for her attention as her eyelids grew ever-so-slightly heavy. She noticed the woman furrowed her brow slightly at her declaration of 12.40, like she had to quickly convert it in her head. Military time, May guessed.

“You haven't eaten, have you?” The woman frowned, tracing the rim of her cup and taking notice of the bag still on the counter and the dirty scrubs sticking out. The apartment was cozy but tidy, the little mess she had created seeming out of place in the well maintained kitchen.

May shook her head, leaning back in her seat for a moment, trying to muster the energy to get up and grab whatever was in the sparsely-filled fridge. “Peter always lays out a snack for me, so when it wasn't there I started to worry.”

The woman stood up and looked at May, obviously thinking the little indication of Peter and May’s dynamic sweet if the upward twitch of her painted lips was any indication. “I'll fix you something, if I'm not being presumptuous. Be warned though, army food is sort of ingrained in me by now, so it may just end up tasting slightly boiled.” She smiled now, and May grinned back, top tired to protest.

“That would be really nice of you…” May was going to end with the woman’s name but realised she had never asked, too busy with her own relief to notice. “I don't know your name. Sorry about that. I'm May Parker, if you didn't already know, though I presume you did.” May grinned almost cheekily, watching the woman as she rummaged through the fridge, black heels accompanied by a black knitted sweater and white pants. She was very put together, and the only colour came from her lipstick, her dark hair hiding all but her jaw from May’s view as she leaned against the back of her wooden chair.

The woman straightened with a loaf of bread, cheddar cheese, tomatoes and vegetarian bacon cradled in her right arm; all things May hadn’t realized were in her refrigerator. “I'm Peggy, Peggy Carter. I work with the Avengers, and when I realized that Peter was in surgery and no one could tell me if his guardians knew whether he was okay, I came straight away. This is the kind of thing you do in person; I've given people enough army condolence letters and watched enough families see each other again to know that even news that someone is fine can be a bit of a whirlpool of emotions.”

“Well thank you, Peggy. It's nice to meet you. This is the second time you've mentioned the army, can I ask where you were stationed?” May was curious as to how this woman could have fought in the more recent wars. She was young, twenty-something, maybe thirty, but her posture and mannerisms spoke of a long service.

Peggy froze slightly, curls bouncing as her hand hesitated over the pan, grilled cheese poised to be placed delicately. She considered something, looked at May, and seemed to decide. “A lot of places. Mostly London and Southern France, but I spent a lot of time on the German line after that.”

May hesitated, wracking her brain for war in the last fifteen years this woman could have participated in. She opened her mouth to ask, but Peggy cut her off, answering her question before she could come to the correct conclusion. “World War II. Long story.”

May gaped for a moment, and then considered this. Her nephew was part spider and he was friends with a nerdy scientist who could turn into a ten-foot green neanderthal and a god with a hammer that was apparently like an impossibly strong magnet to the center of the earth to everyone but him, as Peter had put it after first meeting Thor. This wasn’t all that strange, comparatively. “Well now it makes sense that you used to boil everything.”

Peggy let out a laugh, looking back at May in surprised delight. She wasn’t used to having that declaration replied to with such nonchalance. “Yes, this century is much better at making food edible, if not necessarily more nutritious.”

May chuckled, and drummed her fingers against the table once. “Didn't McDonald’s exist in the 40s? You may have to tell me that story one day, just to explain where we went wrong.” She smiled at Peggy, who raised an eyebrow at the suggestion they should talk another time after this, liking the boldness that took. This woman, May Parker, was already under Peggy’s skin, and apparently the sentiment was returned.

As Peggy set a plate with a sandwich and a half in front of both May and herself, she smiled, taking notice of the way May’s slender fingers brushed her own gently. She had hands made for caring. “I guess I will. It's a pretty long list. But for now, a good sandwich for a bad night.” She said.

May thanked her, biting into her grilled cheese with tomato and veggie bacon with gusto. She groaned as the flavor hit her tongue and closed her eyes, the food satiating her hunger as well as helping to ground her. It was delicious. As she swallowed, May looked at Peggy, who had been watching her reaction happily. “Please, will you marry me? Cook for me every day and keep me from putting a knife to another guest’s throat.”

Peggy let out a loud laugh, quieting herself when she realised it was already past four. She was usually more conscientious of things like that, but the woman across from her was intoxicating and the early-morning air was making her brave in all the ways she wasn't used to being. “I don't know, the knife thing was kind of charming.”

#nessies10kchallenge #peter parker #may parker #peggy carter #rarepair #spiderman

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furrygirlsylvy · 7 years ago

Text

Blackwatch #2: Aunt Moira

Author’s Note

Howdy, my fellow readers! Y'know, when I first saw Moira, I didn't take that much of a liking to her. I really didn't think she was a character that attracted me, but after playing around with her and seeing numerous comics of her, I began to love her.

And so I decided to dedicate one of my Blackwatch Boiz to here since she can cause more havoc for the trio to enjoy, yet we are focusing on McCree on this fic~

Jesse couldn't be more riled up. He was sleeping in his dorm soothingly until Athena set off his alarm an hour earlier than it was supposed to be. The young man whined and begged for Athena to let him sleep and leave him alone, yet Athena persisted since Gabriel commanded her to do so.

With her annoying computer voice, he couldn't go back to sleep even if he ignored her, and so he slumped out of bed and got ready.

"Whatever Reyes got me waking up in the mornin' for better be worth a while." Jesse gritted under his teeth as he slumped through the Overwatch hallways until he made it down below into Blackwatch quarters of the building.

He made it all the way to Reaper's office, riled up to explode all of his fury on his commander. He also saw some other face through the door's glass window, but he didn't care if Reyes had company, he was gonna taste his medicine from Jesse's mouth.

He barged through the door, pointing a finger at Reyes, but then the cowboy's eyes met with an unfamiliar woman. She had orange flaming hair, thin yet tall body, pale skin, and sepeate color eyes. His mouth hanged open as he stared the intriguing looking woman as she stared back, head cocked to the side.

"Why, hello Jesse. Glad you actually got out of bed. I wanted you to get up earlier to meet our new recruite: Moira O'Deorain," Gabe said.

"Pleasure to meet you," Moira said in a monotone voice.

"Howdy, m'lady." McCree tipped his hat at her.

Moira couldn't help but grin at his odd southern accent, but quickly returned to her emotionless expression.

"Moira is our genetic engineer that'll help create new advancements for Blackwatch. You can be her new play mate today instead of you pestering Angela," Gabe said.

"What'd ya mean 'persterin'? I was just tryin to have fun with h-"

Gabe snapped. "McCree! You spilled toxic chemicals inside her laboratory. They burned a hole through several floors and nearly caused harm to countless agents! And Angela is tired of all of the constant flirtation you give her. It is time you stop fooling around."

Jesse hanged his head in defeat. "Yes, sir."

"Now, go with Moira and help her with her studies," Gabe commanded sternly. "I have work to do in the office and check up on Genji on his mission."

Moira and McCree left the office, but as soon as Jesse closed the door, the scientist shot him a smirk.

"What are ya bein smug about?"

"You have an interesting character. Both in attire and personality described by Reyes. A troublemaker, cowboy, and a hopeless romantic all rolled up in one."

"I am more than that, Moira. Ya just met me."

"Mm...I challenge that." Moira's smirk grew even wider.

Moira had gotten into her combat gear, and so did Jesse. They were in her laboratory, full of metal gizmos and glass whatnots that were foreign to McCree's eyes. Her lab was certainly more advanced than Angela's.

"In my ways of combating," she started, "I have abilities that help me fright with my comrades, but also heal them as well."

"Really?" McCree asked.

"Yes...Now hit me for a demonstration."

"What?" He chuckled slightly, pondering if he heard that correctly.

"Hit me."

"Er, wait a minute now. I can't hit a lady. I'm too much of a gentlem-"

Moira slapped him across the face. "Too much of a pussy, that's what."

McCree was a velvet red, nostrils blowing steam. "Mc'scuse me, bitch?! I'll show YOU how much of a pussy I am!" He punched her straight in the face at full swing.

Moira rolled her eyes as she saw stars twiddling across the sky, not even feeling her nose shatter.

The scientist tumbled to the ground, face planting. The last thing she saw was her nose gushing with blood and Jesse's shocked face.

"Oh, ma'am! I'm greatly sorry! I wish I didn't punch ya that hard!" Jesse scrambled along the room, getting napkins and anything available.

"I didn't expect you to punch that hard either. I knew you had quite the build, but I didn't think you would be that strong, yet my calculations proved false." Moira voice was a little stubby due to the face she applied pressure to her bleeding nose with napkins. She was still a dazed with a light headache. "God...That wasn't my brightest idea. And my nose and heads hurts as a result."

Jesse immediately grabbed a glass measured beaker and went to the lab fridge. He poured some ice into it. He was about to apply it to her forehead, but she shewed it away.

"Thank you for the offer, but I can heal myself." Moira faced the palm of her left hand on her face and as she expended yellow biotic energy onto her. She sighed of relief as the gas regenerated her cellular structure in her nose, fixing it. It also soothed her headache and other facial featured that were damaged. Soon, she looked like she was never hurt.

McCree watched in awe. "Woah...That's amazin. Never seen such a way to heal. Medics are gettin so advanced now adays."

"I also have more up my sleeve, but I don't have time to show you. I have a weapon to test out, Jesse. I know you'll love this one."

"So, what does thing exactly do?" Jesse examined the gun in his hands. It resembled much like a pistol, but instead of bullets, it had plenty of tiny pink beads, no smaller than a penny.

"A bubble gun, simply," the scientist said.

Jesse cracked some chuckles. "So we're going to use bubbles to harm our enemies? Really?!"

"No, it's a way of capturing them if you want them unharmed," Moira explained. "Quite useful if you say, but I haven't tested it. I'm not good at fire arms, but I know that Reyes said you had a 'good eye'."

The cowboy engulfed in his pride, smiling proudly of his superior marksmanship. "Indeed I do."

Moira picked up a rat from a cage and placed it on the ground. "Test it on the rat." She commanded as she got a pencil and a notebook. "I will record as you do so."

'But I can't harm an animal. There's no way. Even if their small mice,' Jess thought. His hand started to ship. He aimed straight at the mouse, his throat felt like it was closuong up. The cowboy's pulled the trigger, but his finger slipped from position.

The bead missed the rat by an inch. It hit the floor and then cracked open and turned into the bubble. The bubble bounced all over the place at the speed of sound until it aimed for Jesse and Moira and engulfed the two.

They both yelled as the bubble bounced over the laboratory with them in it, reaking havoc over the place: smashing beakers, busting gadgets, computers and tv screens sparking.

They even busted into the air. They soon bounced their way to other parts of the building as they traveled along the air duct in the ceiling.

Overwatch and Blackwatch agents stopped their work and listened to the thudding and the screaming amongst the ceiling.

Jesse and Moira continuously bounced along the air duct, toppling over eachother and smooching their faces along the walls of the bubble.

As that happened, Gabriel was discussing his new recruite to Genji in his office since the cyborg just returned from his quick mission and it was best to inform him about her.

"Moira is the smartest woman I met, even smarter than Angela, Winston, and Mei. She can give Blackwatch the boost it needs as long as we keep her a secret from Overwatch, especially Jack and the Overwatch officials." Gabriel smiled in fondness of the scientist. "I might even ask her to make improvements on me and other Blackwatch agents."

"Sounds like an interesting comrade. Where is she now?" Genji asked.

"She is in the lab using McCree as her personal lab rat." Gabriel smirked. "Hoping that'll do him good use while he isn't busy doing missions. Why, I bet there's no more trouble from hi-"

The two Blackwatch men stopped once they heard screaming. They tilted their heads up to the ceiling, where the sounds came from.

"Oh Lord, help us!" Jesse's voiced could be heard calling out.

But soon the noises by passed Gabe's office and went down into the hallway.

"Erm, what the h#@$ was that?!" The cyborg asked nervously.

Gabriel sighed and facepalmed. "An annoyance..."

~ The End~

Don't worry! Jesse and Moira eventually get out of their bubble trouble, but their relationship got better in the end! ^^

#mcmoira #jesse mccree #mccree #blackwatch mccree #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #moira o'deorain #moira #blackwatch moira #blackwatch gabriel reyes #blackwatch reaper #overwatch reaper #blackwatch jesse mccree #moira overwatch

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r-u-reddie · 7 years ago

Text

for the record (chapter 1)

summary: Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie despise each other, it’s just too bad that they’re anonymously best pals on tumblr. This is gonna be good…

read on ao3

chapter 2

notes: i’m so excited to be writing my first chaptered fic! this fic is going to have four chapters, so if you would like to be tagged, send me an ask! huge thanks to Dee, my amazing beta! follow her @losvcr

also, if you have anything that you made that was inspired by the fic or have a review for it, (i would actually cry) tag it with #you’ve got mail eds!

7 Months Ago…

It was a well-known fact that Eddie Kaspbrak had always been anxious. It was in his nature, and his obsessive compulsive disorder absolutely did not help his case. Because of his upbringing, he was very tidy and frankly, a little high-strung. He liked to keep everything in order and was very precise.

Now, you can imagine how a person of his nature would react when a loud and boisterous record shop moved in next door to his picturesque plant nursery.

To give you a hint, it was not pleasant.

If they don’t turn down that music in five seconds, someone’s face is going to get kicked to the back of their skull.

Making up his mind, Eddie quickly spritzed his bonsai trees with some water before he stormed out the shop door, heading into the god forsaken vinyl shop where he was prepared to beg for a little peace and quiet.

Eddie had never really taken a good look at For The Record before that moment, and he took a moment to make his critiques.

It was a rather small shop, but what it lacked in color, it made up in copious amounts of vibrant decor. The walls were filled to the brim with random vintage artifacts and every shelf had a bizarre knick-knack to accompany the vinyls. The shop had no color scheme and the only thing that was semi-organized were the records themselves, sorted into genres. Eddie made note of the abundant Classic Rock section. In short, the record shop made Eddie’s hands twitch.

After Eddie finished his observations, he immediately went to the counter, where an unusually tall, messy-haired boy sat reading a magazine. Once again, Eddie noticed that a peculiar novelty was at the register (an arrangement of red balloons).

The cashier had a full head of dark curls and sharp cheekbones. As he flipped through the magazine, the boy bit at his lip. He is really cute. Eddie thought this absentmindedly as he made his way to the counter, where he stood in front of the boy with his hand on his hip until the cashier looked up. When the boy saw Eddie, he looked slightly stumped for a second until he regained his composure.

“Hey there, gorgeous, what can I do for you on this lovely afternoon?” The cashier quipped with a poorly executed southern accent.

Eddies cheeks burned at the nickname as he spat, “Your music that you’re playing outside is way too loud. I can barely hear myself think inside the shop.”

“And wouldn’t that be a shame.” The boy said as he rested his head in his hands. Then, he sprung upright as he snapped his fingers. “Hey, hey, hey! You’re Eddie, the owner of that flower shop that’s next door, aren’t you? I’m Richie Tozier, proud owner of For The Record, at your service,” He finished with a salute.

Maybe what Eddie said next was a little harsh, but in his defense, the thirteen year old customer he previously had to deal with that day had put him in a mood. And he was hungry.

“Hold up. First of all, it’s a plant nursery not a flower shop! Second, maybe if you turned your god damn music down, you would have the brain cells to notice that.”

Richie’s grin dropped off of his face. “Dude, listen. I didn’t mean to upset you, but you’re being a total dick right now.”

Excuse you?

“I’m being the dick? Just turn down your fucking music, okay? I don’t have time to deal with this shit right now.” Eddie complained with a huff. Eddie noticed that after he said that, Richie’s playful demeanor was completely gone.

Ok, maybe that was pretty harsh.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get your lace panties in a twist, princess.” Richie said with a cold smirk.

Oh, fuck him.

That was the last straw, and Eddie stormed out of the obnoxious vinyl store. He was not about to deal with some homophobic jackass who was so worried about his fragile masculinity, that he had to insult the obviously gay guy by calling him a princess.

Once Eddie was back in the nursery, he frantically started to clean the already pristine counter and once it was absolutely spotless, he began to scrub at his hands in the sink behind the counter.

He heard the music next door go so loud he could feel the bass vibrating the floor in Eddie’s nursery.

Fuck. Him.

Now, 7 months later…

Eddie was on tumblr, looking at some cute outfit ideas, when he received a tumblr notification from from trashymouthrt. Eddie grinned as he clicked on the notification and was brought to trashymouthrt‘s latest private message to Eddie

trashymouthrt:

alright hear me out: pizza flavored beer

it would be a hit, right?

Eddie chuckled to himself as he typed out his reply.

nervous-plants:

that sounds disgusting

The reply from trashymouthrt was instantaneous.

trashymouthrt:

or insanely good

nervous-plants:

i think you’re insane

trashymouthrt:

love you too hun

i kinda wish i knew your actual name

and your face

and you irl

Dread began to curl in Eddie’s stomach.

nervous-plants:

but it takes away the anonymity!!!

trashymouthrt:

you’re the worst.

nervous-plants:

i know <3

if it makes u feel any better, i kinda want to know you irl too

trashymouthrt:

maybe our fates will collide someday and we’ll meet somewhere unexpectedly and i would automatically know it was you because i just know your aura so well

nervous-plants:

you’re a nerd.

trashymouthrt:

shut up

oh shit i gtg see ya later sunshine

nervous-plants:

bye trash mouth

Eddie got off of his computer with a sigh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet trash mouth, one of his few good friends, but there were way too many risks, and he didn’t want to ruin one of the few good things about his day, especially when Richie Tozier was constantly around and pissing him off.

All of a sudden, he heard the bell above the door ring and someone yelp.

Speak of the devil.

Richie Tozier skidded around the pastel blue shelf of lavender and rosemary, and came to a stop in front of Eddie.

“What the hell do you want, Tozier?” Eddie asked, arms crossed.

“Did you fucking take my sign?” Richie questioned as he looked down at Eddie, which made him feel smaller than his 5’4 self already was. “No, why the hell would I take your sign?!” Eddie retorted.

“Because you harbor a deep, burning hatred for me?”

“Well, you have a point.” Eddie pretended to ponder, “But, I swear on my life, I didn’t take your sign. Everything you have as decor in your shop is ugly, so why would I want anything with your stamp of approval?”

“Maybe so you can spruce up your fairy den with my excellent taste?”

“My nursery is not a fairy den!” Eddie faltered a little as he took a look around his shop, second guessing the pastel colors and fairy lights that hung from the ceiling.

Richie raised an eyebrow.

“Just get the hell out, Tozier!”

“I always savor these moments we have together, Eddie Bear.” Richie remarked while walking out.

Eddie chucked his pink pen at his back, and decided to reevaluate his life choices.

At least trashymouthrt brought him some peace in all of this chaos.

read chapter 2

you’ve got mail eds! masterpost

wowowow chapter one is done! let me know if you want to be tagged!

#reddie fanfic #it fanfiction #it fandom #it 2017 #it stephen king #it movie 2017 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stan uris #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #fanfic #mine #i did a thing #you've got mail eds!#rose writes

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