#good luck Wild fans I’m pulling for you to get to keep ya boi

[himbeaux-on-ice]

[captainxsassafras]

Angel Voice

Ok, so this is really the first piece of writing I've actually finished since I graduated from college. Haha, yeah. I've been a bit of an unproductive writer the past lil bit, BUT I'm here today and I finished this. Not gonna lie, I am hella nervous for this. It's nothing emotionally involved or really intense (ok, there’s not angst, but I get real emotionally involved in fluff, so maybe I’m a liar), but I read the idea of Shinsou doing ASMR from secondhand-trash and the anon over there and, ya know, magic happened! Haha, I kid. Just cuteness, a few saucy phrases here and there! Please be kind to me!

(Also, I’m so sorry. I will figure out how to put stuff under the cut. Please be patient with my tech illiterate ass!)

@queensynderella

@secondhand-trash

Angel Voice

Shinsou x Reader

Warning: lots of fluff?, attempted assault (not Shinsou!), suggestive comments, a hot mess of a reader!

Word Count: Just over 5000... I think.

~~~*~~~

Fucking fuckity fuck fuck. You had not slept at all. Not a single wink.

Sorry, kind sir. I have no spare winks to give. No winks here.

This had been going on for months. Months!

It was starting to affect you.

Hahahah… That was a lie. It had been affecting you. You were just adaptable and great at lying so nothing was really wrong! 

…Ok, that was a lie too. Your sleep schedule was shot. Your brain was shot. Your work was… by some miracle still ok, but you weren’t about to keep betting on that.

So, here you were. Finally off work and almost falling asleep waiting for the train in the humid, afternoon heat. 

This is probably what Hell feels like. Sleep-deprived, foggy, humid, and full of sweaty humans.

You jolted fully awake from a doze as the train arrived and people began crowding against you.

Yippee. A crowded train with strangers pressing in close on absolutely zero sleep.

Nevermind. This was Hell. Waiting for the train was just the appetizer.

Your phone buzzed.

It was your best friend. She knew that you'd been having trouble sleeping and had been your solid rock. She'd been your support when it started and had helped you brainstorm remedies when it had continued. So it wasn't really a surprise when she sent you a link to an asmr video with the message, 'he has the voice of an angel! 😇 if this doesn't help you sleep, nothing will! luv ya boo! good luck!!! ❤❤❤❤❤' 

She was right. 

His voice was deep, but soothing. He spoke in a soft, calm cadence that immediately put you at ease.

The video in question was a request from a viewer. It was a description of a calm hike through the woods on a nice day. 

It was heaven.

You had your first night of decent sleep in months.

(And if you were being totally honest, you did actually cry a bit when you woke up feeling more rested and clear-headed than you could remember.)

From that point on, you fell asleep listening to 'Angel Voice' every night. 

And quickly discovered that you couldn't listen to the more...exciting rp videos before bed! They sent your poor, stupid heart wild and kept you wide awake plus some tasty adrenaline! Definitely not the desired effect! Not unpleasant. Just kinda detrimental to the whole helping-you-sleep thing.

But his calm, descriptive videos and dulcet voice sent you straight to dreamland. 

For a month straight you fell asleep to his tones and barely bothered to look at the voice artist's name.

Angel voice worked!

***

Ok, now you were tired. 

A frantic call to work this afternoon had you covering your sick coworker’s shift. This meant you were both awake way later than you had recently been staying up and you were working with a double shift's worth of leftover energy.

Ok, you were dead. Running on empty. There was no leftover energy.

You dumb, tired feet trudged along the stupid, dark street and your dumb, heavy purse cut into your stupid, aching shoulder.

But despite your exhaustion, you still held a canister of pepper spray--safety off, thank you--clutched tightly in your hand. 

The hackles on the back of your neck rose. The hair on your arms stood on end. Chills ran down your spine.  

You could feel eyes on your back.

Someone was watching you.  

It was a very unpleasant feeling this late at night all alone on a half lit street.  

Ugh, this street was so different after dark! 

You normally made your way home during rush hour when the street was busy with foot and vehicle traffic, well-lit by the sun, and full of chatter and life.

It was almost lifeless and eerily quiet now. 

Creepy. 

It needed more streetlamps. 

Humming very quietly to yourself, you tried to keep your mind off of the intense foreboding grabbing at your chest.

That same shivering chill ran through your body right before a harsh hand clawed at your arm, jerking you back. You cried out as your sore shoulder twisted and adrenaline-fueled panic surged through your entire nervous system.   

You whipped around, pepper spray at the ready and a fierce scowl on your face, to empty the canister straight into the guy's eyes.

You wrenched your aching shoulder out of his hand. Without conscious thought, your foot rose and met his groin in a beautifully placed front kick. 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

We have a winner!

He fell.

A convenience store! There was a convenience store nearby! 

Heart pounding, you fled to the little 24 hour convenience store across the street and, from the safety of the front counter, called the police.

Your frantic eyes scoured the area near the man, waiting to see if he would rise and run. 

Although, you did get him pretty good. You hoped he wouldn't run away. That'd be a) frustrating because you didn't really have a way to identify him so he'd probably get away and b) scary because you kicked him in the nuts! Guys held grudges for things like that! 

Was that movement?

It… didn't seem like the attacker was moving… 

Oh! It was another guy and it looked like he was wearing a costume!

A hero?

Looked like it! He was tying the felled grabber up with… not sure, but it was incapacitating the guy who grabbed you, so yay!

You left the store and slowly approached the man. 

"Um, hi," you said with a hesitant wave. "This was me." You bashfully gestured to the man still lying (now tied up) on the ground.

"Hey, there. Thanks for doing my job for me," he replied with a bit of a smirk. He had a deep, slightly rough voice and up close you could see dark, wildy messy hair.

Uh-oh. You needed to explain. This was absolutely self defense!

"He, uh, grabbed me from behind and I kind of panicked and, well…"

"Don't worry. I saw what happened. He started following you a few blocks back, but I couldn't do anything because he hadn't done anything yet."

Oh.

Oh, damn.

You felt sick. He had… he had been following you?

Your knees trembled.

The hero noticed and stepped forward to you.

"Hey, hey. Come here." 

He led you to the curb and sat you down, a hand rubbing comforting circles on your upper back. "It's gonna be ok. You clearly know how to defend yourself, so I wouldn't worry about.."

His soothing voice soon began to pull you out of your fear and calm your racing brain. His hand continued rubbing your back in rhythmic motions and soon your shaking began to slow and finally stop. Your thoughts came back to the moment and you noticed something. Something very familiar...

"Holy shit. Angel voice!"

The hero stopped his rambling speech, one eyebrow raising in an amused arch. He didn't say anything else, just waited for you.

"Do you do asmr?"

"Uh… yeah?"

Boy, you wish you could've captured his face.

Befuddled?

Was that the right word?

Yeah. Pure befuddlement.

Then blushing. 

Holy hell! He was blushing! It was really hard to see, but the slightest bit of red colored his cheeks in the dim light.

"Thank you so much!" you cried, maybe a bit loudly. He flinched just a little, looking surprised. "Ah, sorry. But seriously! You're the reason I've been able to sleep for the past month! I've been having sleep issues for almost a year and a friend sent me one of your videos and, well, tada. Sleep happened!" It was your turn to blush. 

The look he was sending your way now was… hella cute. He looked delighted. Elated. Even in the dark, his eyes were shining and he had a goofy little half smile that lit his whole face with happiness. 

The smile highlighted the bags under his eyes and you briefly wondered if that had something to do with his decision to make asmr videos. The thought fled when he raised a self-conscious hand to rub the back of his neck and started speaking.

"I'm glad they've been helping you!" The very corners of his eyes crinkled just a bit. "It makes my night to hear that!" 

His deep voice wasn't loud or overtly excited, but it was warm and full of sincerity. 

Your stomach did a stupid flip.

Nope. Not happening. You refused to be a hero groupie. Too much drama. Too many fans picking each other apart. Too much shade. You needed sunshine and most groupies you knew threw shade like confetti.

Also, he was a professional at work. This was his job. You needed to respect that.

A deep internal breath had you back where you should be. Thanking a professional hero for helping apprehend a man who had attacked you and thanking him for his generous work that helped you sleep well. 

The two of you talked quietly for a few bit waiting for the police to arrive. It was nice. You asked about hero work. He asked about your job. You two chatted about a couple of random things and by the time the police arrived your chatter was comfortable and easy. 

Everything after was a whirl. You had to give a statement. They needed to take you to a hospital just in case. The hero gave his witness statement and then had to leave to help out with a robbery in a different neighborhood. 

You left for the hospital looking back and feeling little starbursts of melancholy disappointment needling your chest. 

You'd probably never see him again.

Ah, well. Guess he'd stay Angel Voice. 

***

Shit.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. 

This was stupid. 

You had barely talked to him for a half hour. And, yeah, he was sweet. Ok, he'd been crazy nice. And so fucking attractive. He'd been easy to talk to and the conversation between you two had been entertaining and full of wit. 

But you had no way of directly contacting him. You'd looked him up, but hadn't gotten much info on him. It looked like he was an underground hero, so that made a lot of sense. It, however, did not make it any less frustrating.

You didn't know what you'd do if you managed to get ahold of him anyway!

"Hi! You sorta bagged a guy who tried to assault me (but I took down first) a few weeks ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since then even though we had like a half hour conversation, half of which was you coaxing me out of a panic attack. Want to go on a date?"

Of course, you could always comment on one of Utube videos, but that had about a 1 in 1,000,000,000 chance of working and felt a little too…. Stalker-fan.

There was also the raging guilt and embarrassment you felt over crushing on a hero who had just been helping you as part of his professional work. He had been at work! It was part of his job to comfort you! He was literally in the business of saving people and making sure they were ok. And that was exactly he had done. He didn't need to be harrassed because your dumb brain said, 'Oo, shiny!' when he smiled. He had been at work. You shouldn't read anything into his behavior, because there really wasn't anything other than a pro hero doing his duty.

Nope! You needed to get over this.

A notification buzzed and you checked your phone.

Mind_kitty has posted a new video! Watch now!

With a defeated sigh, you deferred the notification for later. You could listen and relax on your way home from work.

A movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you snapped your head up as a coworker hustled over with a look of panic on their face. 

Uh-oh.

***

And now, here you were, sitting wearily on the train and hurtling towards home.

Ugh, what a day.

After everything that could go wrong had miraculously (horrifically? Fiendishly? Miraculously seemed too positive…) gone up in flames at the same time, you had spent the rest of your work day running around like crazy putting out all the fires (only one of which was, in fact, a literal fire so not actually a terrible day).

Your feet were sore and a headache that had started with your coworker's news and grown from there threatened to overwhelm you.

There were still a few stops until yours, so you slipped your headphones out of your bag and opened your Utube app. 

Thank you unlimited data!

You found Angel Voice's latest video and began to play.

(Ok, you now had actually figured out his Utube username and finally bothered to remember it, but he'd started as Angel Voice to you and it just worked in your mind!)

Ahhhhhh…

Why does he have such a great voice? It was perfect! Deep and smooth and perfectly made to whisper sweet (or not so sweet) nothings in your ear while you gently played with his wild purple hair. Fuck, his hair was so pretty! You'd bet your left buttcheek it was soft as clouds…

Ugggghhhhh... Fine. 

You were crushing on a pro hero. 

Are you happy, universe? 

Your fated journey to become a groupie had begun. Might as well accept it and focus on more important things… like Angel Voice's hair.

Or, you know, his voice…

You fell into the sound of his speaking.

Hah, it was like an automatic reaction at this point. Your shoulders started to unknot and that stereotypical breath you didn't know you were holding in rushed out in a grateful sigh.

However, it didn't take you long to realize that he hadn't started into the asmr immediately as you were expecting. Paying more attention, you rewound the video to the beginning and actually listened to what he was saying.

"I'm not sure exactly how to do this." He let out a dry half chuckle. "I haven't completely convinced myself I should. But, um…"

He paused with a frustrated sigh, then seemed to take a deep breath. 

"Ok, to hell with it. I'm doing this. Dear, girl I met the other night who took a guy out by kicking him in the nuts."

Was he talking about you? Was there another girl who kicked a guy in the nuts on his patrol? Damn, he met a lot of kickass girls on patrol! Good for her! She was getting a personal shoutout from Angel Voice! 

"I know it might seem kind of weird to be doing this over Utube, but I missed my chance at first, then the police arrived and everything was crazy and I had to leave to help out another pro."

Wow, sounds intense. Bet that was stressful. Oh, wait. Hah. You knew it was stressful.

"So I blew my chance to ask for your number."

He wanted her number? Damn! Super lucky girl!

Wait, this wasn't an rp video was it?

You pulled out your phone to check, but the title and description didn't mention any kind of rp. Aww! This was real! And it was adorable!

A tiny piece of sad ripped itself free of the fuzzy feelings you were experiencing. He had been so kind and you'd had such a fun time conversing. It would have been really amazing if this were for you. You had really liked the piece of personality you'd been able to see.

"I'm really hoping you'll hear this video, and hear it in time, because I'd love to go get coffee with the girl who accidentally body-slammed her coworker on her birthday."

Holy.

Shit.

That…

THAT WAS YOU!

That had been you! Your stupid coworker had snuck up behind you at the end of the day in a semi-dark area of work and shouted in your ear to scare you.

It had worked. 

You'd been so scared that you'd grabbed him, flipped him over your shoulder, and body-slammed him into the floor.

And… and you'd told Angel Voice that night as you sat talking about some of your more notorious takedowns. 

This was for you.

This video was for you!

What the fuck?!

This video was for you!?

You had to rewind a hot second to hear what came next.

Then you had to pause and go back yet again, because your mind was in such a frenzy and your heart was beating so loudly in your ears you couldn’t concentrate on what was being said!

“So if you hear this and, um, you’re interested at all, girl who took down a fully grown man in five seconds, I’ll be waiting at the spot we first met at five pm today. I, uh, really hope I’ll see you there again.”

The video ended. 

Your heart was still aiming for professional drummer in your chest.

You could see him raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck with that last statement. He’d done it that night and you could picture it in your mind. 

Wait! What time was it?

4:50 pm.

No.

Nonononononono!

You were going to miss the meeting.

You were still six train stops away from yours and that alone would take you fifteen minutes! Not to mention the next fifteen minutes it’d take to get to the meeting place! 

Of course, that was walking speed. You could run.

Frantic eyes looked down at your shoes. Not exactly running shoes. 

Whatever, you’d make do.

You wanted to see him again.

You could just imagine the disappointment on his face if you didn’t show and that melancholy from earlier reared its weepy head and cried out in frustration because you didn’t want to hurt him!

And you really wanted to see him again!

The next fifteen minutes were the most agonizing you could remember enduring in recent history. This was worse than the time you spilled coffee on your favorite author and his manager had yelled at you for five minutes while they changed! I mean, that had been pretty bad, but the author had been incredibly nice about it after getting back and even mentioned it humorously in the book you had asked them to sign. It was still easily the most awful you'd ever felt and you’d really wanted nothing more than to run away.

This. Was. Worse.

So much worse because you couldn’t actively work towards your quickly approaching deadline and destination. You had to sit there… waiting.

Your leg was bouncing up and down and a few fellow train riders were giving you slightly concerned looks. You were too wound up to care.

Finally, finally!

You arrived at your stop, hurried off the train as quickly as you could without being the absolute worst human ever, and ran.

Your shoes remained on your feet until you almost killed yourself stumbling over them, then they were in your arms.

Decorum be damned!

This was a matter of life or date! (And preferably not death by shoe!)

You made it to the spot where you’d met him at exactly 5:12 pm.

You were sweaty. 

Hell, that was an understatement.

You were pretty sure you’d left a trail of sweat behind you and you could feel it running in rivulets down your back. There was probably a stain back there… And on your armpits… and on… everywhere.

You knew your hair was an absolute mess. 

But as bad as you knew you must look, you felt worse.

Your lungs were on fire. You had absolutely no breath left in your entire body. It felt like you had a knife in your side. In both sides actually. Your entire body was trying to imitate an oven with the level of heat radiating off your skin. Your legs were simultaneously wobbly and shaking and you weren’t sure you’d trust them taking another step at the moment.

And now you had sweat in your eye. Stinging.

But none of that even mattered. 

All of that was stupid and trivial and inconsequential because he wasn’t there.

You’d taken too long.

He was gone.

No vibrant purple hair and sleep-deprived eyes.

No stupid half-smile.

That melancholy came back and instead of quietly tugging at your heart, it hit you square in the chest with an emotional cast-iron frying pan. 

No.

No!

Damnit!

You’d really wanted this.

He was… he was so fucking witty and kind that night.

He’d been soft and understanding and hot. And fucking adorable.

And… and… he wasn’t there.

Fuck.

You slumped in place.

Every ounce of your physical exhaustion caught up to you in an instant and you felt the mortifying sting of tears trying to sneak their way out of your eyes. 

Talk about adding insult to injury.

It wasn’t that bad. This wasn’t that bad.

So, you didn’t get to meet up with a cute hero for coffee. Big deal. Poor unfortunate soul. It was nothing to cry about.

But you’d really wanted to see him again.

Guess it didn’t matter anymore.

You turned, ready to march across the street to that convenience store and buy half of their ice cream, but something tickled your brain.

Something out of the corner of your eye.

Your head whipped around.

There!

It was a flash of purple down the street.

Your eyes snapped to that portion of the sidewalk. 

It was purple hair.

Crazy, wild, tousled, purple hair!

You knew that hair!

But your stupid legs literally wouldn’t run anymore. And he was far enough away that you wouldn’t catch up if you could run.

You reacted without thinking.

You really acted without thinking.

“ANGEL VOICE!”

You shouted his name at the top of your lungs.

Sorry.

You shouted your own private, very personal nickname that you had only spoken out loud to your very best friend and, unfortunately, him.

In the middle of a crowded street.

During rush hour.

Your brain was an utter masterpiece of stupid.

You stood there, frozen with the realization of your own idiocy, as the head of purple hair stopped, looked to the side, looked to the other side, then tuuurrrnnned around.

Made eye contact with you through the busy crowd.

Then doubled over laughing.

You couldn’t hear him from where you stood, but you could feel him laughing.

You could see it in the way his bent shoulders shook and his torso convulsed, nearly spasming with the force of his laughter.

And there you stood, still stuck to your spot.

You’d called him Angel Voice out loud in a crowd out loud in front of a bunch of strangers out loud.

And as much as you wanted to run, you couldn’t even twitch.

Not as you watched him finally finish laughing and fully turn to face you. Not as you watched him begin to walk toward you through the throng of people (just beginning to turn back to their own business in the aftermath of your outburst). Not as he stopped directly in front of you, a delighted smile on his sleepy, stupidly attractive face and the corners of his eyes still just slightly crinkled with laughter.

“Hey there,” he said and it felt like the softest slap to the face you’d ever received.

Your frozen body finally remembered its fight or flight reflexes and, wouldn’t you know, you suddenly learned how to fly.

As you turned to bolt, Angel Voice reached out, calling to you.

“Hey, wait! You’re just gonna run after all of that?”

He didn’t grab you.

That detail broke through the panic.

Even though he reached out with his hand, he didn’t grab you.

You stopped.

“I wanna run because of all that!” you blurted.

His chuckles sent a wave of heat down your spine, both embarrassed and… otherwise. Ok, fine! He had a sexy voice! And it turned you on more than you liked to admit! 

Who let him have a voice like that?

It was not freaking fair!

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Fuck, he sounded sincere. 

You slowly turned around, face still burning.

You two stared at each other for a minute.

A smile crooked your lips.

“So, uh, what’s a place like you doing in a voice like this.”

Silence.

“Fuck.” 

Your hand came up to rub at your forehead as he began laughing again. A full, big laugh instead of a chuckle.

“I should probably just give up on the talking thing, shouldn't I?”

“I hope not. I could listen to you all day,” he said with a small grin.

And now your heart it was afluttering.

“I feel like that should be my line,” you mumbled, watching him catch his breath from all that big old laughing through the fingers splayed across your face.

There was a pause in the conversation. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it hadn’t really achieved comfortable silence.

“So, um.”

You looked up from your hand.

Good fuck, he was doing the rubbing the back of his neck thing again. Illegal. Freaking illegal is what that was. No man should possess that level of cute.

“I mentioned grabbing coffee in the video. I’d like to assume you being here means you’re interested?” The sentence ended with a slight upturn, indicating a question. He looked up at you, uncertainty in his gorgeous violet eyes.

Why the hell was he uncertain?

This mortherfucking hottie with a voice made for swooning (and spooning) was nervous about asking you to coffee (adateadateadateadate).

Without thinking, you voiced this exact thought out loud (sans the date portion... and the spooning. Spooning was for non-dumbasses). 

Angel Voice looked absolutely floored.

“I’m sorry, but do you own a mirror?” he asked. There was a tension in his voice that almost had you shrinking into yourself.

Ouch.

Damn.

Ouch.

Well, at least he was blunt.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You met him on the floor.

Dead. Ass.

He just called you gorgeous.

There was a set to his jaw now and a sort of light in his eyes. He looked very… determined. Set, was what you’d call it. He seemed very set on a decision.

"It was great talking to you the other night. I can't get out of my head how funny and smart you were. And you're so fucking cute I want to wrap you up in my jacket and stay there forever."

His face was blazing red now. His ears too. Ok, that was hella adorable. You felt your own self flush with happy bashful feelings. I mean, he himself had just supplied you with the sappiest, schmoopiest mental image you’d really ever conceived.

“I’d really like to go get some coffee together.” He went quiet for a minute, seeming to mull something over in his head, and that stupid hand came up to rub at his neck again.

Ugh, he was gonna kill you with that! 

“Would you go on a date with me?”

If your heart was fluttering before, it was nearly palpitating now!

“Yes! Please! I mean, yes I want to go on a date with you!”

He smiled, a breathless, bewildered, almost (dare you think) dorky smile. It was fucking beautiful.

"Wow," he exhaled.

A snort escaped you. "Again, I feel like that should be my line."

But you smiled back.

And there you both stood, almost dazedly smiling, little happy thoughts buzzing through your minds. 

“We should probably head to a cafe if we’re going to get coffee,” Angel Voice finally murmured.

You started.

The both of you were standing like idiots in the middle of the sidewalk, just staring at each other.

“Coffee, right. Anywhere in mind, Angel Voice?” The nickname slipped out almost by accident.

He held out his hand to you and you took it gently. 

“Angel Voice, huh?” he laughed quietly. “I think I can go with that.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! You still haven’t told me your name.” You sent a playful tug along the arm you held by the hand and felt a little thrill of joy when he returned it just as playfully. "You're officially Angel Voice until you enlighten me."

The two of you had started walking. He seemed to have a destination in mind. Man with a plan. Nice.

“I know a cafe nearby. Do you mind?” he asked, softly pulling you along in invitation while leaving enough slack for you to object if you wanted.

Man with a plan who asked nicely. Nice.

“Not at all, Angel Voice.” You had a point to make and a guy to tease!

He chuckled again.

“My name is Hitoshi. Hitoshi Shinsou.” That slightly devious grin crept back onto his face. “But Angel Voice works for me.” He snuggled in close to your cheek, the side of his body leaning comfortably into yours. Then he whispered in your ear and you nearly fell over. "Especially if you're screaming it as loud as you did earlier."

Good lord, your knees nearly collapsed. 

His voice, his stupid voice, saying such a frisky thing so close did such a number on you that you couldn't respond for a moment. It was all you could do to keep breathing.

His voice was going to be the death of you! You couldn’t think. Should you respond? What did you say to that? Something equally as frisky! But his voice!

He tensed a bit at your lack of response. 

"Was that too much? Did I cross a line?" he asked, still speaking low right in your ear.

"Son of a bitch, if you don't stop that right now, I'm gonna jump your fucking bones right in the middle of this street." Your voice was full of urgency, but if he didn't stop you really were liable to unleash every single ounce of wild attraction you felt towards him at that exact moment, street full of people be damned!

He stopped walking.

Oh, shit. You could hear the Cheshire grin.

"You mean, like this?"

You sagged against him, letting your knees tremble. Your hand, still tangled, clutched his tightly.

His chuckle this time was less… benevolent than before. "What? You called me Angel Voice." His thumb ran soothingly over your hand. "I had to see if I could tempt you."

You couldn't help it. You turned your face to bury it in his jacket. What a magnificent, teasing butthead you'd just gotten yourself tangled up with. It was amazing!

"That’s going to come back to bite me, isn't it?"

“All the time.”

A tiny little butterfly crept into your stomach. You didn’t want to read too much into it (although after his teasing, you didn't really feel like it was reading into things), but ‘all the time’ sounded like there was going to be, well, plenty of time. It was a very welcome, warm idea.

As soon as your legs de-noodled (Hitoshi making snarky comments like a brat the entire time), the two of you continued on in an easy silence, exchanging teases every so often. The sun was setting and the entire world was covered in golden tones. Rush hour was winding down and the foot traffic in the area was dissipating, leaving a much more comfortable number of people around.

Your brain focused on the soft, warm quality of the light, the muted shocks of excitement zipping through your lower back, and the soft weight of his calloused hand surrounding yours. 

You gave a little, light squeeze.

"I'm so happy I ran, Angel Voice.”

He just chuckled and squeezed back.

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

First Impressions

Summary: With the multiverse now in play, we visit an alternate universe where Steve Rogers is America’s first bisexual contestant on the ever popular and never lacking dating show, The Bachelor. Nick Fury is your illustrious host through the shocking announcement, contestant biographies, and the first night in the mansion. Only one question remains; who will get the first impression rose on what is promised to be the most dramatic season ever!? Pairing: Steve x Avengers Warning(s): Language. Kissing. A hell of a lot of cringe and bachelor/bachelorette tropes. Word Count: 3,238 Beta: The darling sweetheart @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: This is my entry to @revengingbarnes 10K writing challenge. My prompt was a Bachelor AU. Thank you so much for hosting this, Fatima! This prompt was honestly a challenge for me. I wasn’t sure which point of view and formatting I wanted. It’s certainly unlike anything I’ve ever written. Please no one hate me if I made your fav annoying. I just wanted to fit in as many bachelor personality tropes. The fic isn’t an actual representation of my thoughts on each character. 

Live Studio Audience: Intro

“Good evening and welcome to this exciting season of The Bachelor. I’m Nick Fury, your host for tonight.” The studio audience erupts into choreographed uproar. “Looks like Bachelor Nation is out in full force tonight. Are you all ready for what I promise is our most dramatic season ever?”

Nick commands the stage with a casual grace that only comes from years of hosting. “Last season you all watched as the beautiful bombshell Peggy Carter embarked on her quest for love; which she found with her now fiance. While we wish her the best of luck with her engagement, we couldn’t help be as heartbroken as you all were when a particular fan favorite was booted just before hometown dates. Let’s take a look at this season’s Bachelor!”

Broadcast: Steve’s Bio

“My name is Steve Rogers. I’m twenty-six years old. Born and raised in Brooklyn. You may know me from Peggy Carter’s season of The Bachelorette.”

The audience is treated with a montage of Steve at home in Brooklyn. He walks down the street to a corner bodega on a spring day; smiling and greeting the owner at the counter like they’re old friends. The old tabby cat sat on the counter near the register curls into his hand as he scratches behind her ears.

“A little known fact about me is that I really love cooking.” The next shot is him cooking a large family style meal in a stunning modern kitchen. The black hexagon tiles frame the close up of the saute pan as he flips the food; clearly practiced. The camera zooms in once more for a close up shot of Steve’s large calloused hands making deft work of chiffonading the basal to top his culinary masterpiece. As far as lusting goes, the depiction of Steve as the bachelor is a lot less macho and hits more boy-next-door.

“Things didn’t quite work out with Peggy and I. While we’re kindred souls, I think it just wasn’t the right time.” Steve’s no longer shown at home in his cozy apartment but in a carefully crafted video confessional booth.

The audience hears the producer’s voice off screen, “Do you think you’re over her? Are you ready for love?”

“Definitely. I learned a lot from Peggy. I learned who I am and what I need from a relationship. I’m ready for the whole damn thing. I want a partner, I want kids. I like pretty pedestrian, domestic things.” He looks down at his lap, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “I like ceremony. I wanna carve pumpkins and do the tree at christmas; all that.”

“Anything else you’d like to add to your intro?” The producers prompt. Steve’s broad shoulders straighten and take up much of the booth; his body tense with nervous energy which he masks with a radiant smile. He takes a deep breath before looking the camera dead in the eye.

“I’m Steve Rogers… and I’m the first bisexual Bachelor.”

Live Studio Audience:

The audience goes wild; homemade signs wave, men and women alike scream their delight. Nick Fury stands in the small center stage waiting for the crowds applause to dissipate.

“So needless to say, this season will be unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.” He smirks at the camera knowingly. “Before we jump back into tonight’s episode, would you guys like to hear from America’s sweetheart himself?” More incoherent cheering. “Let’s bring him on out!”

Steve appears from behind the crimson velvet curtain waving sheepishly. They’ve slicked back his locks doing nothing to detract from the classic bachelor look. He unbuttons the slim navy suit jacket as Fury gestures for him to sit on the small interview couch.

“Welcome, Steve. How ya feeling tonight?”

“Not gonna lie, Nick. I feel super nervous.” He fidgets in the seat a bit; rubbing the flats of his palms on the tops of his thighs. “Being the bachelor is one thing. Being the first bisexual bachelor is another.”

“Well I’m not sure about you guys, but I thought it was about time!” Nick’s enthusiasm draws more cheering from the crowd. “We got to know you on Peggy’s season and America just fell in love with you. You’re such a great guy; so genuine and compassionate.”

“Thank you, really, thank you. I honestly was terrified to be the first bisexual man on the show. Being the bachelor has always traditionally been typecast as a very specific type of man; one that I didn’t really see myself fitting into. So to be given this opportunity to find love and to have the support that I’ve gotten since the announcement has been beyond my wildest dreams.”

“You ready to jump into your season?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“While Steve may be our first bisexual bachelor, you can expect not much to change on the show. Each week contestants will be eliminated at a traditional rose ceremony. We’ll still have the first impression rose, hometown dates, and the always anticipated fantasy suits!”

Fury eyes Steve hoping to make him squirm a bit. Steve manages to make his sinful blush look composed while he chuckles.

“Without further ado let’s meet the delightful men and women vying for a spot in Steve’s heart.”

Broadcast: Contestant Bios

“My name? Tony Stark. Don’t worry about having your little design guys whip me a tagline; I’m certain no one needs it. Household name n’ all.” A smirking brunette stares directly into the camera and winks. He’s wearing rose tinted sunglasses despite the dimmed lighting of the interview space. “So what do you wanna know?”

The producers sigh before proceeding. “Tell us a bit about yourself.”

The camera stays in the testimonial booth but now a blonde women occupies the seat. Unlike the previous occupant she isn’t slouching but sits with excellent posture and poise.

“My name is Sharon McCarter. I’m an agent for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. I need someone who’s ready for a fast paced lifestyle. My job keeps me on my toes.”

“What did you think when Steve was announced as the bachelor? What did you think of him being bisexual?”

“Honestly?” Sharon pauses a bit buffudled. “He seems a bit more clean cut then the guys I usually go for.” She looks at the camera with a hesitant smile.

“What would you say your passion is?”

“Fitness. Fitness and health, for sure.” The booth is now overwhelmed with an exceptionally huge man. His long blonde hair falls to his shoulders with delicate braids mixed into his locks. “I’m Thor Odinson. I own and operate Odinsons Gym with my brother Loki.”

“How would you describe yourself as a partner. What could Steve expect?”

Thor continues in his deep voice. It carries subtle hint of an accent not from the states, “Steve could expect the rough sexiness of a pirate mixed with the pure innocence of an angel; the perfect boyfriend if you ask me.”

“What kind of partner do you hope to be for Steve?”

“An attentive one. I’m a scientist by profession.” The tagline on the screen says that the brunette with the tossed curls currently answering his interview questions is Bruce Banner. “A good part of my job is being detail oriented and focused. I’d like to think I bring that same level of attentiveness and sensitivity to my partner.”

Live Studio Audience:

“Welcome back, Bachelor Nation! It looks like Steve has a great batch of men and women who couldn’t be more excited to get their journey started. Let’s see how Steve get’s along navigating his first night in Bachelor Mansion.

Show Footage:

The camera pans across a gorgeous california night sky and comes to land on Steve standing in front of Bachelor Mansion. They have him perfectly centered between two backlit trees with the ornate floral fountain babbling as a soundtrack. He fidgets with his plain black tie waiting for the first limo to pull up. He stares into the camera and mouths a very endearing “What do I do with my hands!”

From that moment on, it’s a parade of individuals dressed to the nines. The women stun in their gleaming and silky ball gowns. The men glow in their crisp suits. Each give their cheesy one liners to Steve before heading into the mansion.

A man named Phil, who insists that Steve call him Coulson, gives him a red, white, and blue sash emblazoned with the words America’s Sweetheart on it while wearing his own sash reading Mr. America. A women named Wanda introduces herself in a thick, sultry accent.

“Where are you from, Wanda?”

“Sakovia. I’m so excited to meet you. I look forward to teaching you about my culture and getting to know you better.”

After Wanda, the next person out of the limo is Clint. He makes a qippy one liner before sauntering into the mansion. A woman named Carol strolls confidently out of the limo nearly glowing in her crimson and gold gown. Next comes a bird. It’s not actually a bird; but rather a man in an oversized mascot type costume.

“Did you know that eagles mate for life?”

Steve stares at the camera for half a second as if questioning if the producers are serious. “I didn’t know that. Any chance I can see the eagle’s face? Or at least know his name?”

“We’ll save the pretty face for later, but the name is Sam.”

Steve takes a moment to compose himself after the bird’s introduction. The final woman exits the limo. She’s in a simple black dress that hugs her body dangerously. Her flame red hair cascades down one shoulder. Her introduction is clipped and to the point. Steve places a hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

Her face softens then. “It’s Natasha, but you can call me Nat.”

After the train of individuals Steve is looking more relaxed. He seems to have settled into his role with less nerves than when the show began. The final contestant steps out of the limo.

“Good evening, Steve. My name is James Barnes. You look so handsome tonight.”

Steve takes in the man across from him. He’s got equally broad shoulders as Steve; they’re nearly matched in height. He wears his silky brown locks at shoulder length with a dainty waterfall braid on one side. The baby blue of his pocket square matches his eyes.

“I can’t wait to get to know you, James.”

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

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, settle down. You all know who I am already,” Nick Fury is addressing all the contestants as they make themselves comfortable in the front living room at the mansion. “Steve! Why don’t you come on in here and get this cocktail party started?”

Steve enters the room gracefully. “I just want to thank you all for being here. I know that putting yourself out there in a new relationship is never easy; let alone in a situation like this one. It’s incredibly important to me that you all are your genuine selves. I wanna get to know the real you. Here’s to the start of something amazing!”

He raises his glass to a chorus of agreeing voices. There’s a half second of adjustment before Tony clasps Steve’s hand and tugs him away from the group.

“I’m gonna steal you first.”

Despite his depiction as an arrogant ass in his interview, Tony actually has a pleasant conversation with Steve. The audience is left wondering if Tony is the likeable wild card or this seasons possible obnoxious villain. Before Tony saunters off, he presses a deep kiss onto Steve’s lips.

“Had to get you first, handsome.” He winks and heads to the bar to refresh his drink.

Steve stares into the camera and states, “I guess we’re starting things off with a bang?”

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

Clint, being the critical observer, saunters over to the bar to find that Coulson is already posted up on one of the bar stools. It’s by sheer force of will that Coulson is upright as the lack of armrests and amount of alcohol he’s clearly consumed are working against him. Clint quickly surveys the situation and makes eye contact with the camera.

“How ya doin’ there Phil? Save some for us, huh?” Beneath the joke there is a hint of concern in his voice. It would appear the concern is warranted as Phil tips dangerously towards the edge of his seat before righting himself. The first stumble is corrected but the second lands him on the floor. “Whoa big guy. Can I get some help here? Producers? I think first night nerves may have lead Phil to throw back one too many.”

“No pro-hicc-ducers. I’m fine. I’m fiiiine,” Phil slurs. Despite Clint’s efforts to keep him upright he’s laying on the floor, cheek pressed firmly to the cold tile. “I just love Steve-hicc-so much. Ya know?”

“Sure you do buddy...sure you do?”

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

Steve speaks to Wanda, Bruce, and Thor in a series of rapid fire exchanges over the next couple of hours. After a warm conversation, Carol leaves Steve lounging on the plush chaise; promising that one day they’ll go stargazing together.

“No one told me these cocktail parties were so exhausting.” The camera crew chuckle. It’s endearing how much Steve utilizes them to break the tension. His unfiltered emotions only make him that much more of an approachable sweetheart. The makeup staff powder his face as Nick Fury approaches.

“We have about a half hour before the rose ceremony. Just a heads up. Any conversations you wanna have, have them now.”

Steve meanders through the expansive grounds. He’s clearly looking for something. He brushes off Thor asking for a second conversation with a polite excuse before take another turn in the winding paths.  He turns his head over his shoulder to ask the camera men which way back inside when he collides with something. Someone.

“It’s probably ill advised to get the attention of the man of your affections by knocking him on his ass, huh?” Bucky jokes. “I actually was coming to grab you for a conversation. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you all night.”

The two men are sat side by side, dress pants rolled up to their knees, while their legs swing gentle waves into the surface of the pool. Dusk has gone and night has come. They’ve been talking for some time now. They’ve both discarded their suit jackets but it’s done nothing to prevent the evening humidity from clinging their shirts to their muscles.

“I have to ask. I feel like I know you from somewhere.”

“Is that you cheesily telling me you feel like you’ve known me for one hundred years?” Steve asks in a singsong mocking tone.

“No! Punk! I’m serious though.” Bucky thinks for a moment before exclaiming, “Do you go to that bodega on the corner of Clark and Henry with Mr. O’Sullivan and his cat Maevie?”

“See I was having a great time chatting with you but now I have to send you home cause clearly you’re a stalker.”

“I knew it! You look...different?”

Steve chuckles gently. “I bulked up a bit for the show. Had to fit the ‘look’ ya know?”

“I feel like such an idiot for not talking to you sooner but I hadn’t seen you there in a long time. I usually go super late though.” Bucky looks down at his hands; there’s more to the statement than he’s letting on.

“Chatting with Mr. O’Sullivan is always a good way to pass the time when insomnia strikes.” Bucky looks up at Steve in shock. He’s ready to explain himself but Steve jumps up abruptly out of the pool. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave.”

In Steve’s haste to stand, he’s soaked most of his dress pants all the way through. He follows the twists and turns of the gardens and seating areas. Natasha sees him approaching the bench she’s sat at with Wanda. She raises her hand to grab his attention but before she can even get his name out of her mouth his jogged past.

“He’s disappeared for nearly an hour, no one could find him, and then he’s just not gonna talk to the rest of us?” Disappointment clouds her features as she sits back down next to Wanda with a plop.

“I’m so excited to talk to him. He’s just got great energy-” Sam’s discussion with Bruce is cut off by Steve skidding into the living room; wet bare feet nearly have him knocked on his ass for the second time tonight. “There’s the man of the hour himself. Can I steal you?”

Sam stands confidently looking rather hopeful; bird costume now discarded. Steve does a double take eyeing him top to bottom. He rests both his hands on the top of Sam’s shoulders before speaking.

“I would love to have a conversation with you. There’s just one thing I have to do first.” With that Steve takes off once more. He sprints to the small side table in the entryway. On the table sits a delicate gold tray holding a single rose. He quickly snatches it before dashing back out to the pool.

“Hey now. You may be more beefed up but I’m certain your probably still capable of cracking your head open. Careful now.” Bucky tuts laughing at the breakneck pace. His laughter is quickly stifled when he sees what’s in Steve's open palm.

“James-”

“It’s Bucky. Everyone close to me calls me Bucky.”

“Bucky… coming into tonight I was terrified. I know that sounds like the typical monologue speech I have to give but I was near ready to toss my cookies out front when the limo first opened. I had no idea what to expect and had convinced myself I’d made a huge mistake putting myself out here.”

Bucky takes a single foot out of the water and tucks it beneath his body to better face Steve. The hand that isn’t holding the rose is fidgeting with a fold of fabric from his pants. Bucky reaches out and plants his palm on top of the blondes ceasing the movement. His thumb strokes small circles onto the back of Steve’s hand; it seems to allow Steve to continue with what he has to say.

“My anxiety was at an all time high and then out you came. Speaking to you tonight has been the first time since agreeing to be the bachelor that I feel like I’m doing something right. I want to thank you for putting me at ease and being your true self.”

“You’re welcome, punk.” The joking nickname sounds more affectionate than insult.

“Bucky, will you accept this rose?”

“I’d be honored.”

Steve untwines his hand to pin the crimson rose to Bucky’s lapel. His hands hesitate once the rose is in place as if debating their next action. There’s a half second pause before Steve gently tugs on Bucky’s tie drawing the brunette into a kiss.

Bucky can’t contain the wide smile despite Steve’s lips still being against his. He breaks the kiss and places a final peck on Steve’s forehead.

“I know this isn’t going to be easy for you. But anytime during this experience you never need to doubt who I am with you. I’m here to get to know you, support you, and hopefully fall in love with you. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”

[boneandfur]

A Wicked Wind [1/?]

Notes: this is an AU fic set several years before the events of VOS. It takes place in the Intimate universe, the same universe as Riley x Rashad. This is for the Choices September Challenge, Sept 21, Autumn (although it could also fit under "Magic"). @choices-september-challenge Thanks to @lizeboredom for being my sounding board! // Pairing: Flynn x MC(Maureen) (yes! Not a crack ship! 😱) // Rating: Mature, later chapters will be NSFW // Words:3213 // Summary: Is a chance meeting between these would-be lovers of another time fate, or does autumn blow in a wicked wind of grief and misfortune? Loosely inspired by a New England folktale. // Song: Something Just Like This, Chainsmokers + Coldplay // WARNING: This chapter is rated MATURE for mentions of rape.

"Look at that pretty little thing, Danny. Ain't she wicked hot?"

Flynn knows he should stay out of it. He should keep on walking, head down, straight to Rayvynne's apartment to wait for her to get back from her job throwing tarot cards near the Witch House. Yes, he should keep on walking, past this girl with dark red hair and whiskey eyes, the kind that remind him of the man he should have been, the man he'll never be.

Even from here he can tell that she's the kind of girl every good Irish Massachusetts boy has known at least once in his life, a Virgin Mary, a Mary Magdalene -- a good Irish Catholic girl, the kind he would have brought home to his mother -- his life hadn't been taken from him too young, if he hadn't spent the best years of his life in the joint, when he should have been out fighting every Yankees fan and fucking every pretty girl or boy who caught his eye. And he's young, still, but on nights like this he feels old, as though whatever spark, whatever ambition he once had, has already been burned up by his thirst for revenge on the man who wronged him. 

"Pretty stuck up, Mikey. She needs to be taught a lesson." 

If Flynn wasn't thirteen minutes late already to pick up Rayvynne, who smells of pomegranates and graveyard dust, who fucks him like a girl with daddy issues, who leaves smears of black lipstick all over the place where his heart used to be -- then he knows he'd stop walking now. If Flynn O'Malley was still a good man, if those years hadn't been stolen from him, then he'd stop in his tracks. He'd turn from his path, and he'd take that girl by the hand, the one who could have turned him from his fate if he'd met her seven years ago.

"Yup, I'm gonna fuck her bloody tonight." Danny is lean and wiry in that way of a man who's grown up fighting everyone who's crossed his path. Flynn recognizes a fighter, after all, he's one too, but he's not soft in the middle like Danny, he hasn't spent the last six years before this drinking cheap booze and eating greasy burgers, he's become a man inside the clink, he's learned how to break men down, like animals. 

But this girl -- even a hardened criminal like Flynn O'Malley can see how wrong this is -- this girl, even with a skirt that's too short and tight, isn't fooling anyone. There's something pristine about her still, something innocent. She sure as hell shouldn't be standing in the autumn rain, tears on her freckled cheeks, witch hat listing sadly to one side of her head. 

Not with those men looking at her the way they are, hunger and darkness seeping from them like the mist rising off Gallows Hill in the twilight. 

The girl looks up and sees him under the cemetery trees, Flynn is certain of it: he smells deep green lake water and wild roses, and for a moment, he's a boy again, searching for pirate gold and a beautiful witch with red shoes, down in the Devil's Pasture with his Donnelly cousins.

The leaves blow across Flynn O'Malley's boots, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the darkness. 

And Flynn knows he's left it too late -- it's too late to stop what's meant to happen, what always was meant to happen -- because he's turned his back on fate, leaving it behind him like seven years bad luck, like a curse. 

And then -- before he has time to think, before he can take the step that will separate him as a fox among wolves, the girl leaps over the headstones and begins to run. Danny and Mike let out wild howls that raise every hair on Flynn's arms, and give chase. 

•••

Ten years ago, when the world was young, two girls set out from one end of Greenwood to the other on Halloween night. Only one returned. And that girl, Maureen Ronan, is standing in the liminal space between life and the sweet hereafter, at a quarter to twilight, under the cemetery gates, waiting for the doors to open between the worlds. 

Behind her, she can hear men talking about her, and her spine grows stiff, it's nothing she hasn't heard before. And though she'd like to think she can handle herself when it comes down to it, she knows the truth -- she's more likely to cut and run. She was always the fastest girl on her block, for all she was the dreamiest, and after what happened to Ayla, she'll never trust anyone else to save her, not ever again. 

"I'm gonna fuck her bloody..." The words send a distinct chill down the back of Maureen's neck, but she's already left an offering for the guardian at the gate, and she's already come this far, and been through so much. Nothing is going to stop her now, not even...

"'Til she's raw, and then I'll let ya have a turn, Mikey..."

They could be talking about anyone else, she thinks, but there's something in their laughter, long and low, that makes every hair on the back of her neck rise, and she can hear Ayla's voice, down through the years: Don't worry about me, Molly. I'll be fine. 

Her instincts kick in, and Maureen cuts and runs -- she bolts down the center path of the cemetery, zig-zagging through the tombstones, heading for the back gates. She can hear the men behind her, calling for her to slow down. 

Pretty girl. We just wanna be friends. Get back here and let us fuck you! 

She's got a stitch in her side already, she can feel her lungs constrict. She's regretting running already, it's not like she knows Salem village like the back of her hand, not the way she knew the forests and creeks just outside Chicago, when she was still a girl, before the world fell apart, and every truth she'd ever known had turned out to be a lie. 

And then it happens -- she trips, and goes sprawling in the wet leaves, and she knows she'll never outrun these men, they are already nearly upon her, smelling of greed and lust, rank and coppery like the taste of rust where she bit her cheek to keep from screaming Ayla's name, sure she could see her friend beyond the basement window of the Coyne house, when all good girls were in bed in the suburbs, their knees locked tight. 

It's a liar you are, Maureen Ronan. That's what you get for reading too many books. Mr Coyne is a nice man. Ayla was out after curfew, and she ran away, that's all. Her mother was turning tricks again, so who'd blame the girl for running...

She's crying now, hot angry tears, like the night they found Ayla's scarf in the creek outside of town, before they moved away, to live with her grandmother and cousins in Canaryville, in the city. The police let Mr Coyne go, they said there was nothing to hold him, without a body there wasn't a crime, and if Ayla's disappearance made folks lock their children up at night, soon people forgot that girl, swept under the rug of memory like all missing children in an unkind city. 

Except for Maureen, the only one to light a candle for her friend's memory, the only one who vowed that one day she would find her friend's body, and make him pay. That's what journalists do. They find out the truth. They make men like Frankie Coyne pay. 

But it's been ten years, and Maureen Ronan has spent too long outrunning her own fate. It should have been her in Ayla's place that night, after all, Ayla was wearing Maureen's shamrock green hoodie and her red boots, pointy toed, like a witch. They'd planned to meet at the cemetery crossroads and light a vigil candle, for all the girls who'd disappeared in the neighborhood down through the years, but Ayla never showed up, and Maureen waited for hours before she'd remembered, too late, the greeting Mr Coyne had given her before she'd set off that night -- 

Where are you going, pretty girl? 

"This way." She hears him before she sees him, his voice is the stroke of midnight, it's the deep black water in the center of a salt marsh, the kind of voice a pirate has, a deep baritone that charms the tides. The kind of man you'll never know if you should trust until it's too late, a wild rover, a lover and a fighter. He smells of late season juniper berries and warm tobacco and spicy bay rum, like the cargo hold of a pirate sloop laden with silks and stolen ingots, sunk beneath the waves with her handsome captain and all hands on board. "Come on." 

•••

Up close, the girl is everything a man like Flynn should never want. She's the kind of girl a man like him should never touch nor taint, not a wicked man like him. There are smears of leaf mold on her knees, and she's crying, tendrils of mist swirling around her rust-colored curls as Flynn steps out of the trees and grabs her hand, stopping himself from pulling her too close. He's sure she'd smell of new beginnings, of all the things a man like him doesn't deserve. He's sure her lips would taste of pirate gold, and deep magic, the kind you can't find outside of old legends, or the fairytales he stopped believing in long ago. "This way." Flynn pulls her into the shadows of the crypt, the one place he's sure superstitious New Englanders would never think to look for them, not within the shadow of the church. "Come on." 

The crypt is primitive, just a dark mound in the earth, with two shelves cut out of the dirt, and stone walls. Leaves rustle across the floor, and he can hear the loud rattle of the girl's frightened breathing. Without thinking, Flynn pulls her close, marveling at just how well her head seems to fit under his chin, at how wrong he was about her, for she smells of the autumn wind and the full moon -- like home, even if he can't quite admit that to himself. 

"It's all right. I won't let them hurt you. I promise." Flynn raises a tentative hand and places it on her back, and she gives a tiny sigh and relaxes against him. He goes completely still, not wanting to ruin the moment, and closes his eyes. If only he were a better man. If only -- 

"Da name's Maureen." She has a distinct accent that marks her as not from around here, she's definitely not a Mass girl. He hopes like hell that wherever she is from isn't New York. 

"Hi, Maureen." He tastes her name softly, rolling it around in his mouth. He makes a circle on her back with his hand, tentatively at first, and then the shock of her cold fingertips brush the exposed skin near his waistband, and he bites back a groan -- this is going to kill him, he's certain of it. "I'm Flynn." 

Maureen licks her lips. Fuckkk. "Hi, Flynn." Her hair tickles his chin when she pulls her head back. His shirt is damp with her tears. "Thank you for helping me." 

He raises her hand and kisses it, as if they lived four hundred years ago, as if he were a pirate captain and she the most beautiful girl in the village, her flame red hair the beacon guiding him safe to shore. It's not gentlemanly feelings that are swirling inside of Flynn right at this moment. Maybe it's him she'll need protecting from. 

After all, if he hadn't stopped to help Maureen, he'd be banging Ravynne on her altar right now, goddess statues crashing to the floor as she rakes his back with those long black nails. 

No, he's a wicked man, is Flynn O'Malley. He's no good for this girl, and if she knew what was good for her, she would know enough to stay away from a man like him. "Just what were you doing there alone, anyway?" 

Maureen snuggles against him, as though his heart wasn't pounding like a drum. She inhales, and then takes a step back, putting a few blessed, torturous feet between them, leaving Flynn feeling strangely bereft. But when she reaches for his hand, he takes it almost unconsciously, running his thumb over her knuckles, the urge to feel her lips pressed against his making this strong man weak with longing. 

This is crazy. He shouldn't be feeling like this, not for someone he hardly knows, for someone he's just met. And yet, if he squints, beyond her eyes like firelight he can see a red haired girl standing on the dunes, waving to a man in an embroidered waistcoat and a tricorn hat, who sweeps her up into his arms and kisses her until neither of them can breathe. But that's just an old legend, a fairy story... isn't it? 

"Ah. I'm here to make magic." Maureen's voice is low and smoky, and the mist swirls around her little red boots, but Flynn doesn't notice, he's too hypnotized by the rise and fall of her chest, by those creamy breasts he's just realizing are accentuated by her laced black bodice. "Are you from Salem, Flynn?" 

"Nah." Flynn resists the urge to pull her right back in, to feel every soft, yielding curve pressed right up against every hard inch of him. "I'm from the Cape. Where are you from?" Not New York, not New York. 

"Canaryville." She gives a careless shrug. "Chicago. You know it?" 

"What's a nice little Midwest girl doing on the wild and windy coast?" Flynn winks. He's been told it's quite effective. He can't help but wonder where she learned to bat her lashes like that, and how long it takes a witch to fly from one city to the next. 

"I'm here to lay old bones to rest, and to turn a curse." Maureen stills at once at a loud crack outside, whiskey eyes wide with panic, and Flynn pulls her behind the door, covering her body with his, the instinct to protect her overriding every other thought in his head.

Pretty girl, where are you? The sing-song voice bounces against the trees, and the acorns make a crack-crack-crack noise as they fall, the sound echoing in the gathering dusk. 

There is a long beat as neither of them dares breathe. Then the voices are fading away, and yet they remain pressed up to one another, breathing one another's breath, so close he could claim those lips in his with a wicked kiss. 

With a groan, Flynn pulls away from her, running a hand through his hair and poking his head out of the crypt. "Looks like they're gone. You're free to go, Maureen." And he's free too, to go find Rayvynne, but he doesn't want to, there's some part of him that wants to see this through, to know why a little witch named Maureen makes Flynn O'Malley want to be a better man. 

•••

Maureen knows she should let Flynn go, let him walk out of her life. One look at him tells her he's a wild rover, a pirate, not to be trusted. He is entirely too handsome, and there's the matter of the tattoo on his wrist, and the watchful way his eyes scan every corner of the graveyard.

This is a man who is a fox, sly and cunning. And yet... and yet, another part of her wants to stay here, in this man's arms, where nothing bad could ever happen to her again, where she feels like ever since she started running, here is a place she might be able to stop, and find peace.

"Do you want to get a drink? You look like you could use one, I know  a wicked good place." Flynn grins and looks down at her, and his eyes are so blue that Maureen is struck dumb for a moment, staring up at him. This is the kind of man her mother always warned her about, the kind who could knock a girl up just by looking at her. Broad shoulders and dark hair with hints of copper, and the kind of beard a girl could tug on if she wanted a kiss.

Just one kiss. 

She can't help but wonder how his stubble would feel between her thighs, and feels her cheeks heat at such wicked thoughts.

"I'd love to." Can he feel the way her heart is nearly pounding out of her chest? He's smirking now, as though he could read every dirty thought inside her skull, as though he knows the kind of affect he's having on her, the way her stomach flips when she imagines the dark hair on his chest rubbing against her nipples, or what his tongue would taste like inside her mouth. "Do you know a good place for whiskey, then?" 

"I might." Flynn looks down at her arms around his waist in amusement. "You'd have to let me go first, though." 

She hopes Flynn can't tell how much she wishes he'd press her up against the dirt wall and commit sacrilege, let her run her hands all over his chest as he plunders her mouth with his tongue, as though unlocking a chest of secret treasures. "I'm hella shook." Maureen tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and vows to touch up her makeup. She's sure she looks like she's survived a ducking in the town pond, and feels her cheeks heat under his blue gaze, dropping her eyes. But she doesn't step away. 

A pause stretches out between them, with all the things unsaid, and then Flynn pulls off his leather jacket, settling it over her shoulders. He clears his throat, stepping back, and Maureen reaches out, stroking her finger down the intricate tattoo sleeve on Flynn's arm. He stills, like a Back Yards canary, or the magpie that used to bring her shiny pieces of river glass beside the creek, before she ever knew what it was to feel heartbreak. "Maureen." Flynn rests one hand on the wall above her head, and when she tilts her chin up to look at him, he brushes his thumb over her bottom lip, lingering for a moment, his eyes suddenly raw and vulnerable, as though she's someone he could trust. "Let's go get that drink." Flynn's lips graze against her earlobe, and she shivers with longing, feeling his gaze on her hips as they walk out of the crypt into the falling dusk. 

When she looks over her shoulder at him, he takes her hand, tucking her arm into his. She bites back a gasp, fire licking her veins, and when Flynn meets her gaze with one of equal heat, he takes her hand again, and leads her down the path.

--

Tag list: @darley1101 @writtenbycandy @indiacater @the-everlasting-dream @breaumonts @penguininapinktuxedo @christopher-powell @choicessa @drakewalkerwhipped @cocomaxley @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @sleepwalkingelite as always, let me know if you want to be taken off the tag list or put onto it. since i don’t have a permanent tag list i just go by comments.

[aeiiope]

How did Jean cope with having a kill count in the teens when SHE was just in the teens? Her ultimate, does it affect her squad or the squad of whomever she's targeting? If it DOES affect her squad - does she tell them beforehand 'hey y'all are about to be nakey' or does it just. happen. What's the fallout like for her at that point? Has she won a Game yet? If not, what do you think she'd do with the resultant fame of becoming a Champion?

Coping

Oh she didn’t handle it well at all at the start, and absolutely thought about turning herself in a million times before coming to terms with her actions. The very first time she killed someone, she actually disappeared for a week or two to try and gather herself again (primarily to stop her shaking enough to where she could operate normal enough to keep going. It just took longer than she thought it would).

To try and cope with the fact that her kill count just kept rising after the initial one, she would often find justifications for all of them since?? Who could she really go to about it?

Her family’s proven themselves as no one to turn to.The people she worked with/for would take it as weakness and potentially get rid of her when she needed the money she was bringing in to help keep the lights on and food on the table. And she was terrified of ratting them out since she knew that if she did, she’d be dead in the next week, so that was off the table.Even those she believed she could trust in some vague sense of the word seemed like the wrong choice to have this discussion with (primarily because she cared about what they thought, and just. Couldn’t handle the disappointment she knew they would have).In her defense; She was still only practically a kid at this point, and one who was panicked and terrified and didn’t think everything out completely because of it, and already had a view point that told her to keep with the trope-y Don’t show ANY weakness or you’re fucking dead.

Anyway, her justifications always tended to fall into the argument that it was either her or them, and she just chose herself. They would have done the same, so there’s no real reason to feel terrible about it (though for the first year or so she wanted to puke after every murder and fight that ended with cold bodies and try to skin herself to get rid of the feeling). It was always her or them, and that was it. She was defending herself. If they didn’t want the chance of getting murdered, they should have stayed out of her way or didn’t try to pick a fight with her.

As the years pass, she eventually grew desensitized to it, and found a new way to cope; Confidence. To be as boisterous and fuck it all as possible because if she could at least fake it at first, it would come to be eventually, and I know this sounds trope-y too, but it’s just. What she did. After each fight, she held her head high, and grew a taste for it by 15 or 16 (the fighting part. The murder part is still very much just. part of the job). Started picking fights just to keep herself sharp and to make sure that she’d always come out on top. And after each one, if she managed to still be standing by the end, it was enough to affirm that this was just natural. It was just what she was good at, and she should revel in it.And eventually, it worked. Even now, she’s confident and can be boisterous and sharp, but it came with broken bones, bruises, scars, and plenty of missteps and mistakes.

But hey, at least she doesn’t feel much of anything anymore when she kills someone; It is what it is. Move on.

And the others are going under the cut because wow this got longer than I thought it would.

Ultimate

It effects her squad! Like, I have a super half-baked idea on different ways it could work, but rn the one I’m leaning to is that her detonator is rigged to tune into the same frequency as her squad’s shields, and as soon as it’s triggered, she can send their shields into fucking overdrive to the point of nearly breaking, and then the result is that the shields are drained in exchange for an aoe explosion equal to what kind of charge the shields could hold, and her squad’s ok bc the base-material of the shields act as a grounded faraday cage. Maybe a little rocked on their feet bc of the force of it being discharged, but tbh it’s less about force and more so about the current produced, so it’s all ok.

Everyone else around? Not so lucky.

And yeah, she’d give them a heads up and a countdown. Like, something along the lines of ‘It’s ready, and I’m going to set it off in 3, 2, 1-’ . And then everything goes to hell in a hand basket as coms cut off for a minute and there’s this surge of electricity around them, and good luck.

Now, she can be a jackass and a little shit, but she wouldn’t throw her squad under the bus without a heads up at least. Like, maybe if it was just her because she knows herself and what’s around her, she wouldn’t be so keen on announcing that she’s about to blow out her own shields to try and fry the enemies around her, but if there are more people involved that she has to work with, she can be a little more considerate. Like, I think her ultimate can be canceled should there be any objections in the group since she’s just prepping the detonator at the countdown.

Though of course, she doesn’t necessarily have to listen to them, but she can note it.

As for the fallout, it would really depend on how things turn out I’d think.

Like, on one hand, the explosion can be the firm push needed for them to be able to take out another squad or two and come out victorious provided that they can work well either as a team or individually without shields, so then it would be good; A very clutch decision that - for as risky as it was - proved useful and beyond helpful.

On the other, at least one fist fight has 100% broken out because of this ultimate because it cost her squad the game, and y e a h. It really depends on how well everyone works together or super well on their own or luck.

But the initial fallout was probably wild since originally, the detonator was apart of a larger machine that only disabled the enemies’ shields. Like, cut them out completely for a time to allow shots at the person beneath it, and that was the effect she thought it was going to have after testing it. Like, during her time rigging the piece she managed to get to work for her favor, she managed to discharge a shield she was using then and figured that it worked; Just had to look out for the run off since it wasn’t as clean as it was as a whole.

Something expected ya know? Like, if you pull live wires, they’re going to have some spark left in them, but their own shields should be able to handle it even at the lowest tier.

The first sign that something was wrong should have been how her teams coms started to cut in and out as the charge on the detonator reached 90%, but she figured that maybe it was just because she needed to refine it a little more and it was nothing more than white noise from it starting up.

Oh boy was she wrong. But damn if she didn’t play it off as intentional if to save face.

Winning a Game

And she played it off well because I think that she would have won her first game with that little trick because. It probably caught a lot of people off guard, but she’s one to adapt and used the opportunity to her advantage and ta-da; Won her first game and still might’ve gotten into a fist fight with her squad after depending on who was in it. Like, I think it was a bunch of random people she never really saw again but holy fuck who fucking blows out their own team’s defense to try and win a fight???? Answer being her of course but that’s besides the point

Which feels a bit cheesy to write, but? Thinking about it? She’s had years of accidental training for it; Her scavenging for things def made her more aware of her surroundings when picking out loot. Being a mercenary gave her more arms and combat training. Hoping from place to place and working in different groups gave her a chance to figure people out. Ect. Ect.

Cheesy shit like that.

From there, I’m not 100% sure how many she’s won. Depends on how many there are and how the work in universe compared to in game, but at least a handful maybe?

Now as for the fame?

Initially, she wasn’t a fan.

Especially because it was a stark, sudden transition from working under tables and out of whatever bar or ship she managed to find herself in - having to take care to make sure her identity was hidden enough to avoid detection - to being in the spotlight and it was enough to make her nauseous in a way since?? It felt like a goddamn neon sign pointing out where she is, and though she’s taken extensive precaution to keep her identity under her helmet concealed before the game (so no one really knew who was under it), it felt like everything she worked to do was just thrown out the window and she gave it up willingly in an effort to outmaneuver people after her head.

Then there were probably questions about her next game since she got to keep going since she won, and her plans for it, and it was disorienting to say the least. But the thing she hated the most about it was how she managed to tether herself to the place without meaning to since?? Honestly?? She didn’t think she would get as far she she did; Let alone win any game.

Like, already said it, but she lived day to day - present to present - and only worried about what was going on then and now and how she was going to get to the next system or planet, and this put a screeching halt to that so now she had to stop and consider what her next plan was going to be and y e a h.

Initially, not a fan.

But! As time went on, she could find some benefit in it. ie; she was able to start cleaning her slate from her time as a scavenger/mercenary since she could finally pay off those she owed without having to run. Those who knew her identity probably became weary of approaching her in any sense of the word after directly seeing what she could do if they wound up on her wrong side, so it granted her a level of protection. She had a place to safely work on things instead of having to rig things together as she moved.

There were benefits, so it loosened her up to the idea of fame, but the one thing she will always hate about it is the tethering and how she feels trapped in a sense. Like, I’m sure that the legends can’t just up and disappear for weeks at a time, or travel anywhere with relative peace. Not if the games are so widespread. And she hates the feeling of it after being on the move for over a decade.

Now, that doesn’t stop her from vanishing for a couple days under guises and shadow, but it’s not the same I’m sure.

When it comes to the more entertainment side of things, she can be charming in a jerk-ish way. Sarcastic. Sharp tongued. Ect. Like, once the initial whiplash came to pass, she probs just said ‘fuck it why not if I’m stuck here’  and since rolled with the punches and having a decent time with it though like hell she’d give a straight or honest answer to things.

Like, one thing I’ve been thinking of is her answer to ‘why did you join the games’? And among her answers would be:

“I had a midlife crisis.”“I made a bet with someone, and now they owe me a dollar.”“This is my retirement plan. No, I’m not using the pay to fund it- This is it.”

Shit like that. But yeah, she def sees it as a double edged blade and I hope this bit makes sense bc I’m like. Typing off the top of my head now because this is the longest meta I’ve written out I’m p sure lmao

EDIT: I realize that in my rambling I didn’t really properly answer as to what she would use it for, but honestly? I don’t think she would use it for more than the benefits I mentioned above since she doesn’t have a cause she’s championing for, but give her time, and maybe she’d use it to aid others where she could in little ways.

She would use any extra funds to help those on the street and in day to day life since she knows that life. Use her reputation to help break up fights she doesn’t want to see, or in a vigilante sense if she’s in the area to help protect those who could be going the same way she did before the games. Little day to day things she can be direct help in, ya know?

[redscullyrevival]

Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans

I’m preserving here all my liveblogging and commentary from twitter because this is the better space for keeping track of my self discussion. Yeah, no one cares, ANYWAYS

Gundam IBO Episodes 1-3

Gundam IBO: *puts main characters in a flashback in the first episode* Me: 

Ah yes, the political girl who understands nothing of the hard man life. Good old Gundam.     

I love Biscuit.

So far I'm a big fan of this shows policy on showing angry boys teeth.

Orga's hair is genius. No hats for dramatic flare, just that pointy bang. So good.

Millennial vs Boomer vibes, haha, love it.

Oh GOD Biscuit has sisters named Cookie and Cracker I am so happy.

I giggle every time I hear "Lieutenant Crank" because I am a idiot.

Did the Gundam nerds whine about Barbatos' tiny waist? Seems like a hill some would die on.

Surprisingly fine with Atra's crush on Mikazuki. It's cute! Not played weird or funky, so far. They seem like they'd get along really well actually - similar temperaments and background and all that.

Oh shit these kids are about to do a bad ain't they? Go get 'em.

I'd keep the accountant too - I don't wanna do any fuckin' math either.

Hate Beer-gut-Hitler-stache, when does some kid kill him? Soon hopefully.

His full name iS CRANK  Z E N T  

Political girl admires strong tiny boy for being coerced into dangerous life choices and options. Good old Gundam!

Mika isn't a victim so it's fine. This is fine. He is fine. They're all fine. Everything is fine. It's fine.

These poor babies. They're not gonna be okay. 

Thoughts:

This is gonna be a big old thing ain't it? I've seen enough Gundam to know this one is going to hurt and in all the ways other Gundam titles try to tragic but fail. I can see that from way out here in the boondocks.

Mikazuki is incredibly concerning and he and Orga are gonna probably tear each other a part. That's the shit thing about existing in a constant mode of survival. They don't have time for inner reflection and they don't know how do even do that. These babies are already slipping.

Which gives the less-than-palatable title a lot of weight. "Iron-Blooded Orphans" sounds cool I guess but mostly it's sad. What a sad thing to see from an outside perspective. It's strength for them, it's pride, I get that, but I don't think as the viewer I am meant to buy in. Or shit, lol, maybe I am but I'm just a reserved asshole. I like to think I'll be hurt less later if I point out I can see the plot trembles now but we all know that's not true.

Very interested to see what Kudelia grows to do in all this. She'll remain political and maybe teach the Orphans about talking about their feelings - I dunno. She'll do something, obviously, I just have no clear idea /what/ so far. Which is fair, only episode three.

The handsome kid with the earrings (don't remember his name, too scared to search it) is definitely bisexual though. That's facts. Sorry.

Looks like this series will forgo the expectation of some pilot screaming about peace while blowing absolutely everything up. Ending of the third episode is a bit on the nose with the thematic line IBO is choosing to walk but I dug it.

Lots to look forward to! Lots will change! I adore the cast which of course makes me very fearful lol. They're hardened kids, they're stuck in survival mode, I can connect with that. What's interesting is their bonds and comfort with each other.

It's safe to assume they're gonna see some wild shit but they will have each other (until they don't) and whose a sucker for found-family feelings? THIS BITCH. 

Gundam IBO episodes 4-7    

McGillis Fareed is a creep, you heard it here first folks. 

This guy is gonna have some wild backstory. He is the unmasked Char dude so. His hair bang is out to rival Orga's. 

~ CINEMATIC PARALLELS ~

I love Akihiro is literally the guy from Beserk. He is pulling an AU role. Good for him.

The children are out here trying to change space future. I love them.

Ohhhh. She is here to teach the lost boys to READ.

Yeah, Orga and Mika's relationship keeps them alive but it can't last. They're gonna get hurt my babies are gonna ndndndnnsn

It's a judging love, a push and shove ya know? They're great protagonists, very compelling. Their relationship is bueatiful in it's own way but a honest writer knows they can't maintain that status quo if the characters are to grow. Especially into adulthood.

Hello cute pigtailed woman doing her nails in space! How can this one show keep treating me so well? Haha! 

 *famous last words, probably*

Okay there is some background mechanic guy and I haven't caught his name yet but he is blonde and styling a swoop do over one eye and his voice actor is so friggin familiar even just the like few lines he has had so far. I'm going on a search wish me luck.

Ahh! Character's name is Yamagi and the voice actor is Soma Saito who was Twelve in Terror in Resonance!  Phew. Okay, back at it go time.

This power couple in the hat and shapely tummy scar, jeez. This show thrives on contrasting character designs but this one is, heh, this is new. Seems out of place almost. 

PS>> Handsome bisexual earring boy is KILLING IT. 

A+ pop into more scenes please thanks

It may be still too early to declare but I think Eugene is in the running to join my idiot son collection. He's got those expressive reactions that I just *clenches fist* that I just love so damn much.

lady pilots lady pilots lady pilots

I know ladies sitting at space computers in bikini tops isn't for any (good) reason but I need people to know that ladies in space would be hanging out in bikini tops for their own fantastic reasons and because I know this I shall accept events.

Idiot Son CONFIRMED

Atra x Kudelia WHEN?! Don't you let me down Mari Okada - I know what you're like!!!

Yamagi the cutie is gay. I'm filled with so much pride. *wipes tear*

These reckless bastard children are gonna be the death of me. 

 I adore how anyone with any kind of heart is moved by these kids. By their shared known history, by their current situation, their guts and their clever gambits.

There is such potential for wonderful storytelling when adult characters are made to stop and consider kids - not as lesser but as whole people in their own right.

Thoughts:

So McGillis Fareed is a creepo. Why do I think this? Well he didn’t bat an eye at accepting a child bride, I consider that a big friggin' tip off. Also, he exudes way too much effort.

I’m still early in the series so I may end up making a fool of myself surrounded by people who already know everything I don’t, but I’ll go ahead and try to explain my thinky thoughts anyhow.

I was only partially joking when I said CINEMATIC PARALLELS.

Pretty sure McGillis is being positioned against Orga and I say this because of their opposing character design and traits. McGillis consistently pulling on his bang was the tip off - hear me out!

The visual language of animation works differently than live action. Naturally by the medium what characters are bottom up designed to do are often times filled with more thematic intent than an actor forming characterization in collaboration with a director/a production. Plus, McGillis and Orga’s designs are intentional echos of one another within their stark differences, which is smart. This is a big cast that has varied character designs which have opposing tying traits (MORE ON THAT LATER) so their differences are what makes them similar.

I think these two leaders are more alike than what I’ve seen so far. I think the point is that Orga’s trials and struggle are more outright visible by his own choice whereas McGillis’ are hidden by him.

Orga never touches his wack hair even though he has a massive killer bang blocking his vision half the time. He isn’t seeking to change what lot he has been given in life and he isn’t trying to hide behind a fake persona. As orga states, “I am who I am.” A child.

McGillis constantly touches his hair while visibly contemplating. This guy is all calculated effort and performance. He isn’t who he presents himself as. Quite the adult.

Moving on to Orga and Mika and this show's brilliant use of opposing character designs: Jeepers Creepers, check out them Peepers edition.

Mika has big eyes. They're great. Because his eyes are so wide all the time it isn't shock we need to worry about with him. It's when he narrows his eyes. We saw this when he tried to choke out Gaelio (which, can I just say, noice).

You know who knows this better than anyone? Orga.

More and more we see Orga turning to Mika for approval, for motivation, for inspiration in his choices and push for whatever the hell it is Tekkadan is going to become. Orga has the smallest eyes of the cast, they're beady and cunning, even more so than McGillis (yikes). I think it's safe to say that Orga observes more than Mika, that Mika just watches things impassively as Orga ascertains what he assumes are Mika's wants.

And it's that type of thing where... The system works. Mika's wide, waiting, eyes keeps Orga on his toes. Keeps him thinking ahead, keeps him and everyone else relatively safe. But! But. There is a undercurrent of disproportion happening. I don't doubt these two love each other. I doubt that they understand their own dynamic. Any shift or change in this system and shit goes south very quickly. So naturally, I worry.

In lighter news OH MY GOD YAMAGI HUH?! Shy mechanic boy loves earring boy as much as I do - we are forever bonded in this way. He is my friend and I want only happiness for him. Ganbatte Yamgai, fuckin' get it boy.

Gundam IBO episodes 8-11

Yes, recap my idiot son Eugene's skills! If Akihiro is the guy from Berserk then Eugene is AU Makoto Tachibana from Iwatobi Swim Club, btw 

The nonchalant babes at the controls are my BFFs.

I love the bit the in opening that's right away during "with all your voice" where Mika and Orga turn pause turn pause turn - what a simple but effective emotional pull, right? gurgle

Oh, it's his harem. Yes. Naturally. Of course. I don't hate this. Am I broken?

ohmygod I think it's because Naze Turbine looks like Ryoji Kaji. I will never be free.

HahahHAHAHAAHAAHAHA! Babies in space! Planting those seeds! HAHAH PLANTING SEEDS okay calming down. What am I to make of the editing in this scene? We've got Atra grasping her Mika charm then we're cutting away to Kudelia I'm freaking out right now.

B-b-b-budget episode! My favorite kind! Play with those jump cuts, yeaaaah!

Naze has a sweet spot for kids and wacky found families. Loves it.

This guy is defiantly space Marlon Brando in The Godfather right? That's intentional right?

This is a really awkward dinner time conversation. :D

Party time! Have fun kids, be safe, you make me very nervous.

Drunk Orga!

*SOBS*

Yamagi is jealous oh no oh my sweet little man oh it's okay!

I need everyone to know I'm deeply emotional about this family of lost boys and their big day and everyone is dressing up and JESUSSS

For a dude with a hat fetish and a harem Naze Turbine is a pretty good father figure so far, huh? He best hope it stays that way. *Whispers* It really is Kaji all over again...

I haven't praised the Old Man yet but Nadi is best and I would kill for him.

Hey, psst, hey in the opening Gaelio bending up into frame while McGillis slyly looks on is some really high quality queerbaiting. Top notch stuff.

These two fuckers hate each other but they like don't care? I don't know. I hate them. I love them. They're stupid make them stop.

The accountant is now like some magical loving math grandpa to all these rowdy boys my heart is so full!

Norba Shino, my love, your insecurities are great and many. Boobs this, boobs that! ... He isn't wrong actually. 

Go team bisexual d i s a s t e r

I'm getting Takaki's back story, he is off to train in the simulator I DO NOT LIKE THIS 

Flustered Orga is just, well it's very good. It's great. It's so sweet I'll put in my tea so I can drink it and get warm fuzzies forever. 

Atra and Kudelia are so good together, they're another pair of characters with contrasting yet corresponding character designs that are just so fantastic!

DING DING DING figured out the editing of the baby scene and yes oh boy seeds were planted! Ecstatic. Don't be a coward show! 

Haha, yeah right.

...Maybe though. Maybe. I think the biggest problem would be Mika because he's, well he is him isn't he? 

Now Takaki is tagging along on patrol and I’m getting Akihiro’s backstory. Great. That’s not ominous.        

BEEP BEEP BEEP an Ahab Reactor duh doy oh jeez oh come on kids 

Thanks for the save Mika! HAHA I was worried. They got me. 

Yes, the set up for Akihiro's brother is lazy but whatever I'm invested. 

 "Come on, come on, come on!" lol this fork tongued pirate kinda looks like a human Momotaros. I'm digging this creep. 

TAKAKI NO!     

Azee is my wife. We're very happy. 

Friggin' Ein standing around muttering and holding Crank's pin like lolol do your job or something.

"All I want to do is kill those boys" like come on Ein no you don’t, just go do some fucking paper work. I'm sure you've been ignoring plenty. 

No. Nope. NOPE. Absolutely not.  

This show knows this isn't okay. It's showing us it isn't okay. Flowers in the Attic is over here touching hot tea pots, like??? McGillis is a creep and he has some junked up plan or scheme or whatever. Blerg. 

Pfft, McGillis is touching that hair bang all "A powerful piece that could shake up the regime" HUH HERR I wonder who?   

These kids are too good and too well adjusted - it's great. I mean, it's sometimes a bit much like in this instance with Akihiro and his bro, but that's also what makes it nice. What makes the show compelling. You trust these characters to trust each other at this point.   

Thoughts: 

The dominoes are setting up and we're getting to that point where almost all the pieces of mystery in the show's opening are all out on the table. Very exciting.

Can't wait to learn what the hell McGillis is up to. He is the exact kind of character I actually really like, because I'm the worst. The child bride is, you know, shitty but I don't think the show is (so far) trying to display it as anything but A Situation™

Frankly, the entire thing with Almiria is (so far!) a play on how these characters are still kind of kids in their own way. Obviously Almira, but McGillis and Gaelio are still at the whims of their own parents and forever will be at the beck and call of their "families".

Tekkadan are more overtly children but they're wiggling out from under another's thumb and carving a space to move around and have some self definition. McGillis is, I can guess, is going to try and do the same for himself (especially after his little chess speech).

McGillis' extreme acceptance of Almiria is partially gross and partially understandable. It's both. Because it is both! Being shitty to Almiria won't gain him any points and he is going to use her, his parents already predetermined that. Eeehhh. Wait and see I guess.

I adore the dynamics of this big cast of characters, the boys feel so real and I live to see them acknowledge one another's strengths and hopes and fears. ;_;

Like most Gundam properties (other than GWing, yeah I said it!) the female cast is a bit washy, a bit too reactionary towards an thus defined by the male ensamble but I don't dislike anyone.

There is a divide between the female characters and the male characters, they share the same physical space but their narratives are not aligned and that's okay but it is a little frustrating. I'm a patient soul and I love (and know) the Gundam franchise so I'm good but maaaan. I really want the ladies to get through on this one. I really want them to want things for themselves beyond being pulled by their boy peers. They don't need to fight. They don't need to yell. Who they are now is good, there is a good foundation. They just need a gear shift, especially in the realization that they're not just along for the ride. And I am mostly thinking of Atra at this point. I love her because she is easy to love but I also know that's through careful positioning and not due to anything inherent in her.  

We will end this bout how I think many of these will end; YELLING ABOUT YAMAGI.

Yamagi is a sweet boy who deserves the world! Norba Shino is a human disaster who (headcanon) is going through a lot of confusing emotional and hormonal stuff right now so please be strong Yamagi.

Gundam IBO episodes 12-14

I love Ms. Merribit. Anyone will tell you I'm a sucker for responsible ladies in pant suits. 

I love these Man Rodi the Brewers use. A good chuby boy in heels.

They made Mika's lunch TOGETHER.

TOGETHER.

My man Nadi knows what's up.

That's what I'm talkin' about! Mari Okada I trust you so much girl.

At some point Orga's tough guy smirk is going to be used in a way that pains and hurts me and I will probably die.

space battle space battle space battle I am a nerd space battle!

The ladies are covering for Akihiro. They want these brothers to reunite. *crying*

Masahiro's voice actor is giving an amazing performance.

Aw damn it.

Episode 13's opening is straight forward but rough: Norba's search crew find Brewer's human debris, passes them over, but those scared kids shoot which causes the Tekkadan kids to react and return fire. It's played straight as being it is what it is - a shit cycle of getting out.

The child solider/space rat stuff is, I feel, primarily used by the show to explore various forms of abusive fallout (which is why the Tekkadan kids fairly well adjusted existence is a little weird but deeply appreciated) and this quick moment punctuates Akihiro's goodbye.

A guest compliments Almiria, "She is like a doll!" 

She is, isn't she?

Kill me.

UH OH she has realized she is nine. 

Let me guess, McGillis is going to be a white knight oh yep here he comes. Great.     

I'm hitting pause and I'm going on a wild ass fuckin' tangent:

I feel younger kids having crushes on older people all depends on how it's handled by the older character, much as in life. Kids crush on adults. They do. That's not like weird or strange. What's important is how adults are made to handle those feelings (if known) and a story can go in so many different directions for so many different reasons and that's fine. That's storytelling. I shall judge all stories individually as they cross my path with whatever elements they have within them. That's how I do it.

So McGillis being charming and nice towards Alimaria is, again, fine and a little icky simultaneously. We know he is stuck. He is not out to ruffle any family plans. He is cucumbering this shit and being as smooth as possible alternative motive I don't know yet.

Alimaria is at the utmost disadvantage here. 

Within their specific scenario the only character we've seen consider her as a person who is also stuck in a hamster wheel of shitty parents is McGillis.

Obviously McGillis is a total shit-bird who is simply being nice because that's what is advantageous for HIM but the show is still (barely, mind you) straddling that line of "This Is Just A Situation™, we'll rip the Band-Aid Later"

McGillis is going to do something absolutely terrible to this girl and I am weary as fuck.

The series is being very manipulative with McGillis' actions here with Alimaria. He is being considerate but he is also stepping over a line.

McGillis is presented as being understanding and seems to genuinely care about Alimaria's feelings which makes him come off as, well, nice and princely. Which is undoubtedly what he wants. Which is what kind of makes him a monster, ya feel me? 

Eh, okay, incoherent late night ranting done. Back to sad boys and robots. 

THESE POOR SAD BOYS. 

This funeral is hitting me in my soft bits I can't deal

And it's followed up by Yamagi x Shino content just rub salt in my wounds JESUS 

UHHHH PARDON ME?!?!?!? I hate this episode! Deaths? Kisses? UGH. Mika is an dummy. He is full of dumb.  

They're making sure to show Atra sneezing though, as if someone mentioned her name explicitly which is just more weird ass editing choices I don't know how to take. What are you trying to tell me?! 

I'm stupid and a low life so I don't actually hate all love triangles. In fact I tend to rub angst all over my body so I can smell like disappointment and unresolved sexual tension but Mika is still a total dummy end of discussion. 

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ┻━┻        

NEW OPENING BITCHES!

MASKED PILOT MASKED PILOT I AM YELLING!

New opening has got it all! Just absolutely everything! We've got a masked pilot; we've got some new looking girl straight out of CLAMP's X/1999 or some shit; we've got sad boy's angry teeth; did I make this? Is this a dream?

Fumitan ain't gonna rat Kudelia out! At least... I don't want her to anyways.

Kudelia is straight up asking this lesbian about men I can't believe her.

Hehheh heeh heh hehe "Dort" hehe 

I adore the weirdness and chafing of Merribit and Orga's working relationship.

Oh my god guys, they're at Fantasy Costco! These girls are gonna clean these stinky boys and make that there ship sparkle. It's girly manifest destiny. 

"So no matter which planet you're on, the bossy ones are scums" - That's my idiot son Eugene who is actually one of the smarter of the idiot boys. 

I love the juxtaposition of these colony adults drinking the juice on the political Mars girl and her mighty teen protector warriors out to save them when it's really them asking lesbians for advice on men and trying to survive and crying when no one is looking. 

I'm serious, Orga is borderline terrified of Ms. Merribit. She's just another pair of waiting judging eyes for him and he doesn't know how to deal with her because she actually SAYS STUFF. 

Biscuit you be careful baby, watch your back. 

Loooooove the juxtaposition of these colony adults being super psyched to get blown up and these kids are like "Christ almighty, put that down!" 

Shino helping Yamagi escape (~˘▾˘)~ 

These boys are out here doing their job, doing their best, they're on their best behavior and they've been set up. My precious children! They've done nothing wrong, ever! 

"Maybe I'll change the way I talk, huh? ... No, I will not do that." Goddammit I love McGillis and I'm sooooooooooo mad about it.  

Thoughts:

We've had Snake-Man-Pirate suggest to Mika that he enjoys killing but we haven't really been given any evidence of that. I'm sticking to my self-made theory on Mika's eyes!

He has that big wide stare most of the time, Mika doesn't actually have much personal investment in most of what he does. He doesn't love killing, but he doesn't have any real opinion on it either way. It isn't like when he choked out Gaelio or, now, kissing Kudelia.

I'm full power launching myself into deep fannish space because that's how I media but like, I'm not crazy right? Mika's eyes are IMPORTANT. They're about all we're given in understanding him, which is wild for the main Gundam pilot protagonist. The emphasis on Mikazuki's eyes within his design and being the only markers the audience is given when it comes to inner choices is a big gambit. We're 14 episodes in and don't have much of a grasp on Mika and I think that's because he has never once self defined. He is the ultimate of the poor sad robot boys. Akihiro is struggling with his humanity and the label of his existence ("human debris") with all the characters starting to find space and time to turn inward and then there is Mika.   

I don't think he knows how to live life while not only trying to survive. So, what's going to boot his self defined existence online? Piloting Barbatos? Kissing girls? Familial love?    ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

McGillis being a masked pilot this late into the game with no charade about "Who can it BEeeeEEeE?!?" is my favorite thing. Haven't even seen him in an episode yet just a preview but oh, it's my favorite thing.

We'll end this short thoughts binge on the beauty that is Yamagi and why I am somewhat upset:

IBO has a very tight turn around of set up and follow through. There is (I'm assuming) a longer, slower set up with end game (probably tragic) follow through happening in concordance with the two episode story arc rhythm the series has going so far.

Quick simplified examples can be

Akihiro mentions his brother > we meet his brother > his brother chooses to die/save him > kids learn some on how to handle grief. 

Turbine has a harem > everyone accepts this > kids learn some on how to handle a found, self defined family.

The pattern is "If the kids meet a thing, that thing becomes possible."

We ain't seen no men loving men. We've not come across a viable example in the narrative of that being a option or choice or possibility. 

There are a lot of episodes left and this isn't like a make or break situation for me, but we are inching up on the set up stage being over with and if there is no example, no proof, of men being able to love men then...? I'm hesitant to invest.

I still will invest hook line and sinker, this is Gundam and damn that’s what I do 

BUT! 

That's also just so frustrating and sad as well as being, haha, believable. If there is no example encouraging Yamagi to approach Shino and no example for Shino to see acceptance then they're just gonna run out of time or figure their shit out too late.

Which is so very extremely stressful and masterfully manipulative how dare you I'm so impressed but mad and hurt and god I hope I'm wrong and off and have not tapped into this show's core of foreshadowing or whateverthehell.

Yamagi is a sweet boy who deserves the world and Norba Shino is a human disaster and I suffer for them.

[megamanx1994]

Crash Bandicoot Homecoming Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The bird’s prey/Attack on Cortex Castle (Disclaimer!) Crash saw Power Man helping to push the boat back together. “Glad I could catch the boat,” he said, “Leave this to me!” “Got it,” said Crash. He went around helping Spyro evacuate everyone from the boat. Pretty soon everyone was out of the boat. Crash started to leave but tripped. “Shit!” he said. He fell into the river. “Hang on buddy!” said Spyro. He dove down to look for him. “Crash?” he asked, “Crash where are you?!” “Boo!” he said. He spooked Spyro. “That was dirty,” he said, “But at least you’re ok.” “Yeah…” said Crash. “What’s wrong?” asked Spyro, “Are you ok?” “If by ok, you mean feeling bad because I let the bad guy get away and put a lot of people in danger, then yes,” said Crash. “That’s where you’re wrong,” said Spyro, “Look behind you.” An audience was cheering for Crash and Spyro. Power man came down and came out of his suit. “I was wrong,” he said. “What do you mean?” asked Crash. “It wasn’t you who wasn’t ready to face off against supervillains,” said Nicholas, “It was me who wasn’t ready… to let you go.” “What do you mean?” asked Crash. “The reason I came here after hearing about the attacks going on was because I was scared,” said Nicholas, “I was scared that what happened to my old comrades was gonna happen to you, and I just couldn’t take that. But you proved me wrong.” “Really?” asked Crash. “But, do me a favor and stop trying,” said Nicholas. “But I’m just trying to be like you,” said Crash. “Dude, just be yourself,” said Nicholas, “It doesn’t matter what other people think about you. All that matters is what you think.” Crash smiled. “I’m gonna need the suit,” said Nicholas. “What?” asked Crash. “I’m asking Coco to help me put on some upgrades. If you’re gonna take on Cortex and his evil henchmen, then its gonna take more than a few dancing moves and a flashy costume,” said Nicholas, “No offense.” “None taken,” said Crash. “I’ll see you later,” said Nicholas, “Keep fighting the good fight kid.” He flew away. “Need a lift?” asked Spyro “What?” asked Crash, “Oh yeah.” He got on Spyro’s back and they flew back to campus. Jackie greeted him with a hug and a kiss. “We saw you on TV,” said Jackie, “That was amazing!” “Yeah,” said Crash as he smiled, “And it looks like I got the approval of Nicholas Shay.” “Crash, don’t make a habit of this,” said Coco, “There’s other ways of getting attention of this you know?” “Maybe I don’t need the attention,” said Crash. “What do you mean?” asked Jackie. “Sometimes the thing that you want the most is right beside you along,” said Crash. Jackie was still confused. “It wasn’t the fans and the fame that keeps me going Jackie,” said Crash, “I realized that it was you.” Jackie started to blush. “I spent my entire life trying to figure out what I want, but I think I already have,” said Crash. If I had you by Adam Lambert Crash: So I got my boots on, Got the right amount of leather And I'm doing me up with a black color liner And I'm working my strut but I know it don't matter All we need in this world is some love There's a thin line between the dark side and the light side baby tonight It's a struggle gotta rumble, tryin' to find it But if I had you, that would be the only thing I'd ever need Yeah if I had you, then money fame and fortune never could compete If I had you, life would be a party, it'd be ecstasy Yeah if I had you You y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-you If I had you From New York to LA getting high rock and rolling Get a room trash it up 'till it's ten in the morning Girls in stripper heels, boys rolling in Maserati's What they need in this world is some love There's a thin line between the wild time and a flat-line baby tonight It's a struggle gotta rumble tryin' to find it But if I had you, that would be the only thing I'd ever need Yeah if I had you, then money fame and fortune never could compete If I had you, life would be a party, it'd be ecstasy Yeah if I had you You y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-you If I had The flashing of the lights It might feel so good but I got you stuck on my mind, yeah The flashing and the stage it might get me high But it don't mean a thing tonight That would be the only thing I'd ever need Yeah if I had you, then money fame and fortune never could compete If I had you, life would be a party, it'd be ecstasy Yeah if I had you You y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-you If I had you That would be the only thing I'd ever need Yeah if I had you, then money fame and fortune never could compete (never could compete with you) If I had you, life would be a party, it'd be ecstasy (it'd be ecstasy with you) Yeah if I had you You y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-y-you, y-y-y-y-you If I had you The two of them shared a kiss. Meanwhile back at Cortex’s headquarters, Crow was doing some finishing touches on the repairs. “That should do it,” he said. He noticed something stuck on the wing of his flight suit. “What do we have here,” he said as he looked at it. It was a picture from Crash’s wallet that he took of himself and Jackie. “So, did you find any crystals, Dennis?” asked Cortex coming in. “Unfortunately no,” said Crow, “But, I did discover who our friend in the suit is.” He showed Cortex the picture. “I think I need to go pick up some groceries on the way back,” said Crow putting on the suit.

Jackie was heading in to her dorm after a long day at work. “What a day,” she said. She took off her jacket and laid on her bed. She heard a noise and looked out the window. “What was that?” she asked. She shrugged and turned around. Crow was standing right in front of her. “Tough day wasn’t it?” he asked getting closer to her. “Who are you?” asked Jackie. “Just a concerned citizen,” said Crow, “You see I have a little problem and I think you could help.” “What’s that?” asked Jackie. “There’s a rodent interfering with my plans and I tried getting rid of him,” said Crow, “And then it just hit me. What better way to trap a rodent than with his little girlfriend!” He snatched Jackie and then called his wings and flew away with her. Later Crash was heading to the same dorm to take Jackie out for another date. “Jackie?” he asked, “I’m here.” He didn’t hear anything. Crash opened the door and saw it was a mess. “Jackie?” he asked again. He looked around trying to find her. He saw her necklace on the ground. “Oh no,” said Crash. He rushed over to Coco’s room and busted down the door. “Damn it Crash!” said Coco. She was working on a project. “Oh, right, sorry,” said Crash. He want back out and knocked then came back in. “Much better,” said Coco. “Jackie’s been kidnapped!” said Crash. “What?!” asked Coco. “I found her necklace,” said Crash, “Cortex must be behind all of this.” His phone vibrated. “Hello?” asked Crash. “Hello Crash,” said Crow. “Crow?” he asked. “I’d like to make a trade,” said Crow grinning, “I was just in the neighborhood walking around until….. I found something that would be most valuable to you.” He put the phone near Jackie. “Crash,” said Jackie, “Help me!” “What do you want in exchange for her?” asked Crash. “The crystals,” said Crow, “You will bring them to N sanity Beach tonight alone. If I see the dragon or anyone else, the girl dies.” “I’ll do what you ask,” said Crash, “Just don’t hurt her.” “You have a deal,” said Crow. “Crow’s got Jackie,” said Crash, “I gotta save her.” “Well I’ve researched what Cortex was up to, and there’s no way you can take them on by yourself,” said Coco, “That’s why I called in some help.” “What kind of help?” asked Spyro. She placed the last orb inside the portal and it opened. From it came some of Spyro and Crash’s old allies. Polar, Pura, Penta, Hunter, Elora, Shelia, Sgt. Byrd, and Agent 9. Elora got a look at Spyro and smiled. Spyro was about to say something when someone got in the way. “Spyro is that really you?!” he asked, “It is I, the professor! Look Elora, did you…” Elora grinned already knowing who it was. “You’ve changed your hair,” said Spyro. “Same jacket,” said Elora. “Guys….” Said Crash. “Spyro told us everything that’s going on,” said Hunter, “We figured we should help you out.” “If you go, then we go too,” said Penta, “One for all…” “And all for one!” said Polar and Pura. “You can count me in too,” said Sly. He was with Murray and Bentley. “We still owe you for those gems you gave us,” said Murray, “They’re worth a fortune.” “Oh, a package came for you Crash,” said Coco. Crash took it and it revealed a new suit for him. There was a note attached. “Hey buddy, I tried to stay as close to your original design as possible, and I gave you some new gadgets. Two twin blasters, some new armor spandex, jet boots, and a mask for whenever you go into dangerous paths. I know you wanna take on those punks who have been taking gear from our battle in Seattle and turning them into weapons, and I can’t stop you from doing what’s right. But do me a favor; stop trying to be like me. Just be yourself. Good luck out there. Yours truly, Nichoals.” Crash smiled. He tried it on and it fit him. “Fits like a glove,” said Crash as he grinned. He placed Aku-Aku on his side. “Nice duds,” said Elora. Coco showed everyone her project she’s been working on. “It’s built for as many passengers as it’ll take which in this case is plenty,” said Coco. “Oh man, you gotta let me drive this,” said Crash. “After that stunt you pulled with the sasquatch gang?” asked Spyro, “I think not.” “C’mon I’ve learned from my mistakes,” said Crash. “Guys,” said Elora. “I could drive around you in circles with blind folders on!” said Spyro. “Guys!” said Elora. “Awwww SHUT UP AND MOVE IT!” said Coco, “I’m driving.” They both shrugged. They were heading to N Sanity Beach. “Hold on Jackie,” said Crash, “I’ll find ya.” Jackie was trapped in a cell. Crow was messing with some of the crystals to power up his machine. “HEY!” said Jackie, “I’m trying to get your attention! You’ll get what you want for your little machine now let me go!” “I can’t let you go,” said Crow, “Without you there’d be no special trade. But its not like your little boyfriend can stop me.” “He will stop you,” said Jackie, “And Cortex as well.” “I doubt it,” said Crow. His wings could now shoot out magnetic talons made from the crystals. “With this I’ll put an end to that infernal bandicoot,” said Crow. “I leave this all to you Crow,” said Cortex, “Crash will be willing to hand over the last crystals with his lucky charm in our grasp.” Crash was looking at the sky starting to turn. “Are you sure we’re heading the same way?” asked Crash. “I haven’t been to N Sanity Beach in a couple of years,” said Coco. “Must’ve been a band couple of years,” said Crash. Pura was riding on Rilla Roo, one of N Brio’s creations. Polar was skating with Penta on his back. “How did N Brio even create something like that?” asked Polar. “Beats me,” said Penta. “Rilla Roo (I am Rilla Roo),” said Rilla Roo. “Looks like we’re here,” said Spyro, “And we’ve got company.” A bunch of Cortex’ minions including Tiny and Dingodile were in the way. “Its time to see what this new suit can do,” said Crash. He clicked his heels and his jet boots activated. “Yee haw!” he said. He landed on dingodile and kicked him. “That hurt boy!” said Dingodile. “That was the idea,” said Crash. Coco jumped out of the car and started fighting off some of Cortex’ minions. N gin was watching the events unfold. “Should we intervene?” asked N. Gin. “No my pupil,” said Cortex, “Let him have his fun. I have something else I have to do.” Polar was taking down some of Cortex’s minions. “Wow Polar, I didn’t think you were a fighter,” said Pura. “As some people say, there comes a time where all men must…” said Polar as he punched someone in the face, “Oh you get the point!” A line of humanoid animals lined up to attack Pura and Penta. Rilla Roo intervened and did a barrage of punches on all of them. He turned around and grinned. “This guy knows how to fight,” said Crunch. Crash made his way into the castle to find Jackie. Crow was waiting at the stairs. “Ok Crow, where is she?” asked Crash. “Oh she’s safe, for now,” said Crow, “Why don’t you come and get her.” Crash chased him to the top. Soldiers tried to stop him. “Ooga-Booga!” said Crash. Aku-Aku appeared and circled around him giving him a shield. “Crash!” said Jackie. “Jackie!” said Crash as he went to get her. “First give me the crystal,” said Crow, “Then we’ll talk.” “What do you want with these crystals?” asked Crash. “To help complete the weapon that Cortex has been planning to use,” said Crow, “More importantly to bring my company to the top.” “What?” asked Crash. “You see, I was one of the co-workers of Gadd Science Incorporated and I was on the verge of starting a revolution of technology,” said Crow, “But they feared my research too dangerous and booted me out and found a new Protégé. I want you to understand that I will do anything to make sure my hard work is known by the world, and I know you know what I mean.” Crash had his twin pistols ready to fire. “So don’t mess with me,” said Crow, “Cause I will kill you and everyone you love.” He dashed at him and Crash jumped. Crow caught him by the leg and threw him at a lab table. “You really think you can be a match for me?” asked Crow. He shot some of his crystal feathers at Crash and he evaded them. Coco made it to the top. “Coco!” said Jackie. “Hold on,” said Coco. She got a tool that could help Jackie out of the cage and she was free. “We gotta get outta here!” said Coco. “But Crash is in Peril!” said Jackie. Crash was taking a serious beating from Crow. Crow took him up to the sky. “Get off of me!” said Crash. Coco and Jackie went into the ship. “Follow that bird!” said Jackie. They followed Crow. Crash managed to get loose and fell on a plane. Crow landed on the plane. “This whole time I’ve been plotting to put Gadd Science Inc. out of business, and all of a sudden you show up,” he said. He attacked Crash and damaged one of his pistols. “Nothing is gonna stand in my way,” said Crow, “Least of all, YOU!” He grabbed Crash with one of his wings and threw him down. He almost fell off the plane but Spyro caught him. “Buddy!” said Crash. “Talk later, we got work to do,” said Spyro as he pulled him up. Crow used one of his wings to cut off one of the wings. “You have a plane to catch,” said Crow. He flew off. The people inside were screaming. “We gotta do something!” said Crash. “I know what to do,” said Crash. He clicked his heels and started flying. He was pushing one of the turbines up to keep balance. Spyro did the same to the other turbine to help Crash. “We just gotta land away from the buildings and we’ll be alright!” said Crash. Crash pulled with all his might and managed to get the plane to land safely. Everyone got out and cheered for Crash. Jackie smiled but saw Crow approaching him. “Crash watch out!!” she shouted. But it was too late. Crow used one of his robotic talons to plunge through Crash. “Game over!” said Crow as he pulled the talon out. Everyone watched in horror. “Behold everyone, the foolish brat who tried to play hero,” said Crow, “And look where it got him!” Jackie ran over to Crash. “Crash no!” said Jackie, “Don’t leave me like this.” Crow grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry girly,” said Crow, “You’ll be joining him soon enough.” Crash’s wound secretly healed and he got back up. “And now, your days of peace end!” said Crow. He heard someone singing. It was Crash and he was dancing to some music. “What’s going on here?” asked Crow, “What are you doing?!” “I’m distracting you dumbass,” said Crash. Rilla Roo activated some kind of device that shut down Crow’s flying ability while he still retained his sharp feathers. “No more flying bird,” said Pura. “Why you little….” Said Crow, “No matter, I can still crush this little brat!” “That’s what you think,” said Crash, “You can do whatever you like, but I’ll still be standing!” I’m still standing by Elton John Crash: You could never know what it's like Your blood like winter freezes just like ice And there's a cold lonely light that shines from you You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use And did you think this fool could never win Well, look at me, I'm a-coming back again I got a taste of love in a simple way And if you need to know while I'm still standing you just fade away Crow tried attacking Crash but his dance moves were just too quick for him. Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid And I'm still standing after all this time Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind Crash landed a few punches and kicks on Crow as he blocked them. “Hold still you twerp!” he said. Crash wouldn’t hold still as the music was grooving him. I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah Once I never could hope to win You're starting down the road leaving me again The threats you made were meant to cut me down And if our love was just a circus you'd be a clown by now You know I'm still standing better than I ever did Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid I'm still standing after all this time Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah Don't you know that I'm still standing better than I ever did Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid And I'm still standing after all this time Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm still standing. Yeah, yeah, yeah Crash managed to grab Crow’s wings. “No, don’t!” said Crow. Crash then pulled them off and smashed them to pieces, then punched Crow in the face and he was down for the count. “Looks like this bird’s been grounded!” said Crash. Jackie tackled him with a hug and then a kiss. “What about Cortex?” asked Pura, “He’s still out there and has the crystals.” “Or does he?” asked Elora. She secretly stole the crystals back. “Elora you sneaky girl,” said the professor, “Well at last his weapon can’t be completed.” “You bet your ass,” said Hunter. Later the authorities came and arrested Crow and he was taken to jail. The news was talking about Crash and his efforts to save Echo Creek and the world from certain destruction. At school there was a celebration for Crash and his heroic deeds. Nicholas was watching and couldn’t be more proud of Crash. “You finally did it buddy,” he said. He checked the mail and got a letter from Crash. Dear Mr. Shay; I can’t thank you enough for the suit and its cool functions. However I don’t think I’m gonna need the mask anymore. The people have already seen my face without it, so there’s no point in keeping it on. I also appreciate the lesson about being myself. It really helped. Thanks, for everything. Crash Bandicoot. Nicholas kept the mask from the suit that he gave Crash. Back at the celebration, Crash and his band were playing. Everyone else was dancing. Meanwhile Crash and Elora were reconciling. Back in the Afternoon by Panic! At The Disco Crash: Back to the street where we began Feeling as good as lovers can, you know Yeah we're feeling so good Pickin' up things we shouldn't read It looks like the end of history as we know It's just the end of the world Back to the street where we began Feeling as good as love, you could, you can Jackie: Into a place where thoughts can bloom Into a room where it's nine in the afternoon And we know that it could be And we know that it should And you know that you feel it too 'Cause it's nine in the afternoon Crash: And your eyes are the size of the moon You could 'cause you can so you do We're feeling so good Just the way that we do When it's nine in the afternoon Your eyes are the size of the moon You could 'cause you can so you do We're feeling so good Star: Back to the street Down to our feet Losing the feeling of feeling unique Do you know what I mean? Marco: Back to the place Where we used to say Man it feels good to feel this way Now I know what I mean Spyro: Back to the street, back to the place, Back to the room where it all began (hey) Back to the room where it all began 'Cause it's nine in the afternoon Your eyes are the size of the moon You could 'cause you can so you do We're feeling so good Just the way that we do When it's nine in the afternoon Your eyes are the size of the moon You could 'cause you can so you do We're feeling so good Just the way that we do When it's nine in the afternoon Crash and Jackie: Your eyes are the size of the moon You could 'cause you can so you do We're feeling so good Just the way that we do When it's nine in the afternoon Crash pulled Jackie up to the stage and they shared a kiss in the moonlight. The End….. Cortex and N Gin found a secret cave. “He is here,” said Cortex. “Who?” asked N. Gin. “My master,” said Cortex. He took one of the crystals and placed it on a table. From the table emerged an evil floating mask. “At last I am free,” it said. It laughed evilly. Confident by Demi Lovato Are you ready? It's time for me to take it I'm the boss right now Not gonna fake it Not when you go down 'Cause this is my game And you better come to play I used to hold my freak back Now I'm letting go I make my own choice [Clean version:] Yeah I run this show [Explicit version:] Bitch, I run this show So leave the lights on No, you can't make me behave So you say I'm complicated That I must be outta my mind But you've had me underrated Rated, rated What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? It's time to get the chains out Is your tongue tied up? 'Cause this is my ground And I'm dangerous And you can get off But it's all about me tonight So you say I'm complicated That I must be outta my mind But you've had me underrated Rated, rated What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? So you say I'm complicated But you've had me underrated What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? La Da Dee by Cody Simpson There's no way to say this song's about someone else Every time you're not in my arms I start to lose myself Someone please pass me my shades Don't let 'em see me down You have taken over my days So tonight I'm going out Yet I'm feeling like There is no better place than right by your side I had a little taste And I'll only spoil the party anyway 'Cause all the girls are looking fine But you're the only one on my mind La da dee La da dee doo La da da me La da da you La da dee La da dee doo There's only me There's only you La da dee La da dee doo La da da me La da da you La da dee La da dee doo When you were gone I think of you All these places packed with people but your face is all I see And the music's way too loud but your voice won't let me be So many pretty girls around They're just dressing to impress But the thought of you alone has got me spun And I don't know what to say next Yet I'm feeling like There is no better place than right by your side I had a little taste And I'll only spoil the party anyway 'Cause all the girls are looking fine But you're the only one on my mind La da dee La da dee doo La da da me La da da you La da dee La da dee doo There's only me There's only you La da dee La da dee doo La da da me La da da you La da dee La da dee doo When you were gone I think of you [2x] I pretend the night is so beautiful Take a photo with the bros La da dee La da da doo They won't see through my disguise Right here behind my eyes Replaying in my mind La de da Yet I'm feeling like There is no better place than right by your side I had a little taste And I'll only spoil the party anyway 'Cause all the girls are looking fine But you're the only one on my mind La da dee La da dee doo La da da me La da da you La da dee La da dee doo There's only me There's only you La da dee La da dee doo La da da me La da da you La da dee La da dee doo When you were gone I think of you [2x]

[not-just-any-fangirl]

Days of Summer CH 3

A/N; Gasp! What do you mean this has a constant update schedule? If you like that, go wish @hannah-nobody good luck on her assignments!

Here’s the updated playlist!

Summer has arrived, and with it the start of the two month long music camp; Fairy Tail! Full of new songs, friends, and adventures, the campers learn things they never knew about themselves and one another. And just how easy it is to sneak booze and a full sized karaoke machine out into the middle of the woods.

Camp Rock!AU

Pairing: Nalu, Gajevy, Gruvia, others mentioned; Fairy Tail

Words: 6100

Rating: T

Parts: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven

Chapter Three: All The Boys

Closer now...

And closer still…

Then it’s closer to her

‘Til she knows you’re there

Lucy leaned against the wooden countertop attached to the wall, trying to look around inconspicuously as Cana poured a quarter of a bottle of inappropriate liquid into her half full bottle of orange juice, swirling the contents until she was satisfied. Tucking the thin flask back into the pocket of her brown khakis the brunette gave Lucy a playful wink, Lucy rolling her eyes and shoving away the outstretched bottle Cana offered her. She didn’t feel like risking getting kicked out of camp on the first day. She looked around the room much more relaxed now, taking in the long rows of clear stained wooden tables and high domed ceilings, all designed for excellent acoustics within the large space.

One never knew when or where an impromptu sing-a-long or rap battle could happen at Fairy Tail.

The single door beside the canteen was pulled open suddenly, the unexpected noise drawing Lucy’s attention. Cana had started walking over to where Juvia and Levy sat already, abandoning Lucy as she stared dreamily at the large glass windows on the East and West sides of the building. Lucy’s curiosity was piqued when she watched Gray and Loke enter, both agitated and with a growing tension forming between the two guys. She started to walk towards them to greet them, but her brow furrowed as she noticed the two had stopped walking just inside the door and were talking in a conspiratorial hush. Were they arguing? Loke was the first to notice Lucy’s approach, and immediately ended whatever fight he had been having with Gray, large smile forced and swagger exaggerated as he walked towards Lucy.

“My Sunshine!” he purred as he slung his arm around Lucy’s shoulder, “Seeing you always eases my soul, as though you are the brightest star and I am but a traveler lost at sea.”

Lucy shrugged off his arm with an eyeroll, snorting audibly at Loke’s dramatic declaration. “Why don’t you save that for a girl it might actually work on, that one was pretty good.” Lucy teased, any annoyance she might have felt at his statement smoothed over by her good mood carried over from meeting her cabin mates.

“Not as pretty as you, babe.” Loke shot back, lips curling in a suggestive smile and face leaning in towards hers. Lucy planted a hand firmly on the side of his face, smushing his cheek and lips as she shoved him away.

“Hey Gray.” Lucy greeted as the raven haired boy finally strolled towards where Lucy and Loke stood. He grunted in reply, and Lucy raised an eyebrow as she looked over him. “Forgot something?” she asked innocently, smirking at his annoyed expression. She knew him too well, and she knew that was his I-feel-better-but-don’t-want-to-show-it-because-I-never-showed-I-was-upset-in-the-first-place grimace. Stupid emo boy.

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically, bumping her shoulder and giving her a small grin as he passed her to walk in the direction that Cana was waving. Lucy’s eyes lit up and she lifted a finger beside her head as she spoke.

“Oh that’s right!” she chirped, “We have some new friends I want you guys to meet!”

She grabbed Loke and Gray’s wrists, dragging them behind her as she walked quickly to the table where her friends sat. Cana was harassing a bright red Juvia, Levy snickering behind her hand as she watched her cabin mates’ antics.

“Guys, meet Juvia and Levy! Girls, this is Loke,” Lucy said, releasing her friend’s wrist and motioning at him with her hand, “and this is Gray.” Lucy yanked on Gray’s wrist so he moved from his half hidden spot behind her shoulder to be in full view of the group of girls.

“Definitely Pete meets Edward.” Levy said as she looked over Gray, sending Cana and Lucy into a loud fit of snorts and laughter, even Juvia tittering behind a pale hand before she collected herself with a delicate cough. Loke shot them an amused glance while Gray was torn between glaring at Lucy and fighting back a light blush.

“I’m sure Juvia wouldn’t mind if Gray got that spread in Rolling Stone.” Cana drawled, sending the others into another round of giggles, although Juvia’s laugh sounded a little confused. A musical fanatic probably wouldn’t understand such a pre-teen ‘bad boy’ reference.

“Pete meets… hey, do you mean Pete Wentz?” Gray asked in confusion before a spark lit behind his eyes, “Wait, are you talking about ‘The Fabulous Life And Secret Torment’ interview? In Rolling Stone?”

“Erm.” Levy gaped, but it was too late. Gray was spiraling back into middle school. His former self was taking over.

“Issue 1012,” Gray continued, eyes wide in wonder as he looked to a fonder past. A past which featured a heavy use of eyeliner. “March 2007. I waited in line for fifteen minutes at the corner store just to buy it. Classic. You know that interview happened like a day before the release of Infinity On High? Man, iconic.”

The group stared at him in stunned silence as Gray signed to himself, nodding as if he’d wrote the article himself.

“Juvia thought it was the MCR Gray yearned to be a part of.” Juvia frowned in confusion.

“Oh sweetie, if their songs titles have more words than the number of years their fans have lived then he’s fantasized about being with them.” Cana soothed, patting Juvia’s head, the girl in turn nodding in serious understanding.

“But sadly it isn’t 2007 anymore, so Gray has to find someone else who understand the consequences of being deeply misunderstood.” Loke smirked before turning his attention to Juvia, “Say, how good are you with eyeliner?“

Gray turned a vibrant shade of pink, gritting his teeth to keep from punching Loke at Lucy’s pointed look.

“I can do my own eyeliner, thank you very much.” He ground out.

The group erupted into laughter. Nearby tables cast them concerned looks.

“Wait! No! That’s not what I-” Gray stammered.

“Juvia thinks it is impressive that Gray is so skilled with make-up,” Juvia’s voice cut through the laughter, “Juvia wishes she had Gray’s skill. She can never get the wings even.”

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be happy to teach ya Juvy.” Cana snickered as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Juvia’s face brightened suddenly, Lucy following her gaze and looking in the direction she was waving at, her jaw dropping as she realized who their sweet and innocent friend was drawing towards them. A tall boy who looked like he was already in his third year of university stalked towards them, long black hair wild and intimidating. Well, all of him was intimidating. He was well over 6 foot, maybe pushing 6 and a half, and was barely fitting in his tight black tank top, matched with torn and abused jeans and combat boots. His face was littered with eyebrow and nose piercings, his ears glinting silver when his dark hair shifted around them.

Lucy supposed he could be handsome if it weren't for the fact that his scowl could make flowers die.

He stopped at the edge of the table, eyes shooting to Gray and Loke with mild disgust before he looked at Juvia. “Really, your first time makin’ friends and these idiots are the ‘chosen ones’?”

Juvia pouted at his bored voice, Lucy balking at the deepness and smoothness of it. “Juvia thinks Gajie is being too rude to her new friends.” Juvia chastised, standing from her spot on the bench seat and walking towards her friend, her arms looping around his heavily muscled one so it was crushed to her chest. Lucy tensed as she waited for the boy to jerk his arm back from Juvia. Instead he rolled his eyes, his scowl softening to a grimace when he looked down at her.

“How many times do I hafta tell ya not to call me that?” He questioned dryly, something like amusement or fondness growing in his red eyes as Juvia looked up at him, eyebrows knit as she thought.

“Gajie, Juvia was wondering if you still travelled with your emergency eyeliner?” She ignored his previous question, blinking up at him innocently. ‘Gajie’ spit out a sharp squawk, cheeks turning a soft pink and eyes glaring down at Juvia. He left his arm in her hold still, though.

“I haven’t in years, Rain Woman. And the name’s Gajeel.” he grumbled, Juvia sighing deeply and looking down.

“Now Juvia will be unable to learn Gray’s amazing skills.”

“Oi!” Gajeel barked, turning a heated glare on Gray as he shifted his arm -and Juvia- closer to him protectively. “The fuck is Juvia goin’ on about, Stripper?” he asked menacingly, Gray and Loke swallowing sharply under his deathly look before Gray replaced his mask of indifference and sneered at the other boy.

“Nothing, ‘Gajie’.” He mocked, Lucy looking between the two in confusion.

“Call me that again and you’d best be sleepin’ with one eye open for the next two months.” he warned in a low voice. Lucy looked at Cana as she became even more confused, Cana shrugging her shoulders as well.

“Does Gajie know Gray?” Juvia questioned, unaffected by the dangerous aura radiating off of the boy whose arm she was hugging. “Why didn’t he tell Juvia he was friends with the MCR models.” She pouted, her eyes sparking as Gray choked. “Or did you two meet in the ‘pit’ Gajie is always texting Juvia about?”

Gajeel sighed heavily and removed one hand from where it was shoved in his pocket, fingerless studded glove resting on top of Juvia’s head as he patted her hair. “No, Waterworks, I’m sharing a cabin with Dumb and Dumber here, and my idiot cousin.” He explained bluntly.

“You’re Dumber.” Loke interjected, looking at Gray flatly. Gajeel shot Loke a look, who just raised his hands and slipped into a spot beside Cana. Everyone else settled into the benches so Gajeel was left at the front of the table with Juvia clinging to him. He tensed suddenly when he realized everyone was staring at him, Lucy’s skilled eyes -from having to decipher Gray’s basically monotonous facial expressions- picking up on the tightness around his lips and shoulders. She smiled at him comfortingly, Gajeel blinking blankly at her. Lucy’s smile waned until he looked away, the pink tips of his ears showing through his black mane of hair.

“Yer both morons.” Gajeel frowned, recognition flashing in his eyes when Juvia led him to the bench seat beside Levy, who sat at the end of her side of the table. The girl was pointedly stabbing at a piece of lettuce and ignoring the looming boy beside her. Lucy’s eyes widened as she watched Gajeel’s face crack into a large smirk when he leaned into Levy’s personal space. “Almost didn’ see ya there Shrimp.” he teased, Juvia clapping her hands delightedly on the other side of Gajeel.

Levy looked coolly out of the corner of her eye at Gajeel, whose smirk widened more to reveal pointed canines. Until Levy’s fork somehow found it’s way into his hand. “Oops.” Levy said with false apology, Gajeel rubbing his hand with a wry and impressed glint in his eyes.

The group fell into easy chatter, Loke hitting on Levy and Juvia and failing hard, Juvia staring at Gray in awe before looking away just as Gray looked at her with hidden curiosity, Gajeel remarking on Levy’s tiny size just for the blue haired girl to hurt him in some ‘accidental’ fashion. Lucy couldn't help but beam as she watched her friends, new and old blending seamlessly as they picked at the food on the table.

“Decided not to go sulk by the river like a pussy?” Gajeel asked suddenly, grinning over Lucy’s shoulder where an unamused snort sounded.

“Fev’s string broke as I was walking over. Got your text and decided food wouldn't be a shitty substitute.” Lucy looked over her shoulder at the boy who was talking, recognizing him as the stranger from before. His dark beanie still covered his hair, green eyes twinkling with mischievousness as he countered Gajeel’s comment effortlessly.

Lucy looked away as she felt a flutter in her stomach. Maybe camp food didn’t agree with her.

“Who’s this cutie?” Cana interrupted, eyeing the boy behind Lucy as she took a swig from her ‘orange juice’. She smiled coyly, leaning forward and pushing her cleavage together. Lucy rolled her eyes and chased a chickpea around her plate before pushing her fork into it violently. So what if Cana was looking for a new fling this summer, it was none of Lucy’s business that the cute guy behind her had caught her friend's attention. Even though he had talked to her first...

“O-oh umm,” she heard behind her, Lucy lowering her head and glaring at the half of the chickpea that had flown from her fork. So what if his nervous and flustered voice sounded even cuter than his confident one. She looked over her shoulder again, head turning without permission. Her expression lightened considerably when she saw his uncomfortable look, eyes wide and looking at Gajeel for help. Not that Lucy cared that he wasn't interested in Cana. Because that would be petty. And Lucy was a good friend. Yes. And good friends encouraged one another to try and kiss cute people. Wait, kiss?

“Natsu! Juvia is glad to see you again! Are you still hallucinating about your girlfriend in the shower?” Juvia asked brightly, eyebrows pinching in concern as she finished speaking. Natsu made a high noise as his face turned bright red while all three boys at the table burst into loud and raucous laughter. “Gajie was quite concerned for his cousin’s mental health.” She continued, pouting as she looked around the table. “Natsu’s mental illness is no laughing matter.” She mumbled to herself, Lucy looking at Natsu critically and taking pity on him when she noticed his clenched fists and raised shoulders.

She couldn't help the giggle that bubbled in her throat when Natsu looked at her, his eyes bright and clear and captivating Lucy. She didn't think she had ever seen such a pretty green before. He looked away quickly, hands stuffed in the pockets of his open, faded-red hoodie. She smiled when she recognized the band name on the shirt under it, opening her mouth to ask him about it when she was cut off.

“Really? Jimmy Eat World?” Gray sneered, Lucy looking at him in shock. “I bet you just love the song The Middle, don't you?”

Lucy narrowed her eyes at his condescending tone, looking up at Natsu when he made a low ‘tch’ sound. “You think you're so great, I bet you tell everyone you were kissin' the Way brothers asses before Welcome To The Black Parade because everyone hasta know you were ‘tragic’ before it was cool.” Natsu shot back, lip curled up and eyes hard as he looked at Gray. Lucy had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop from snorting, Natsu looking at her in surprise at the sound. His expression softened and he grinned crookedly at her, Lucy struggling to compose herself again.

“Well I like Jimmy Eat World. And The Middle is my favourite song.” Lucy said pointedly, holding Gray’s cold stare until he looked at the table and stole one of Cana’s fries. She held her hand up to Natsu and smiled her most friendly smile. “My name’s Lucy, but you already knew that,” she said teasingly. Natsu blushed and tugged at the white scarf wrapped loosely around his neck before taking her hand and giving it a firm shake, his skin warm and rough against Lucy’s.

“I'm um, Natsu. And I don't have a girlfriend!” Natsu rushed out, eyes widening in horror when he realized what he had said. Lucy giggled again. Natsu relaxed and grinned at her laugh, his look melting and making Lucy blush the longer they stared at one another. Both jumped apart when Cana cleared her throat, Lucy laughing nervously and Natsu scratching the back of his head as they tore their hands from the other’s. Lucy stuck her tongue out at Cana’s raised eyebrow and approving smirk. Gray glared harder at Cana’s fries and Lucy worried they might actually freeze over.

“What happened to your stupid sweater?” Gray asked coldly, Natsu’s mouth twisting as he faced him.

“I fixed the thermostat, so now I don't have to worry about freezin’ my fucking dic-” he grinned victoriously, stuttering as he looked at Lucy again, mouth frozen mid word.

Loke and Gajeel both groaned loudly to themselves, Lucy looking between Natsu and Gray at the obvious inside argument.

“Fucking overgrown lizard.” Gray hissed, Natsu looking away from Lucy once again.

“Ice Princess. You gonna sing Let It Go at karaoke or something?”

Cana burst into loud laughter, thumping Gray on the back as she howled. Gray was thoroughly unimpressed.

“Well at least I don't go garbage diving for all my clothes.” Gray smirked, looking Natsu up and down condescendingly. Natsu tensed again, eyes narrowed as he growled back.

“Like you even wear clothes you perverted stripper.”

“Really, watch who you're calling perverted you fucking mol-”

“Enough.” Gajeel said suddenly, Gray biting his tongue at the warning tone. The table sat in awkward silence for a few seconds before Lucy was reminded of her growing anger at Gray when he made a face at Natsu.

“Well I think his clothes suit him,” she mumbled defensively, looking at her platter and stabbing another innocent chickpea. “There's no need to be so rude.” She looked up at Gray when she heard a dry snort, Lucy’s lips twisting down at his cruel smirk.

“Yeah, ‘cus he’s trash too.”

“Gray Fullbuster that is it. You are acting like such a pretentious asshole right now and I don't care what you two are fighting about but Juvia is our friend and he is Juvia’s friend so you will be nice to our new friend.” Lucy seethed, Gray flinching back and lower lip puffing out by a fraction, looking back at the fries as he stole yet another. Lucy rolled her eyes. Great, now Gray was pouting.

“And you,” She turned to Natsu, who also flinched back under the remainder of her glare. “Stop encouraging him.”

“Aye sir.”

Lucy blinked at his quick reply, shaking her head with a sigh as she looked away. She met Gajeel’s impressed look before looking at Cana, who was tugging on Gray’s ear, pulling him across the table by the ear. He was hunched uncomfortably as Cana whispered something harshly to him that was making Gray pale more than usual. Levy and Juvia wore matching looks of concern. Loke just looked bored.

“Why don’tcha take a seat there Flame Head,” Gajeel offered gruffly, Natsu looking around the table and finally eyeing the only available spot beside Lucy. He looked at Gray, a sort of unspoken conversation happening between the two for some reason before giving a small smile.

“I think I'll just head back to the cabin with a sandwich or something, I don't wanna be any more trouble...” He excused, smile becoming strained as he shoved his hands back into his pockets.

“You're not any trouble Natsu,” Lucy said firmly, speaking over Gray’s unintelligible murmur. Ass.

“Nah, I gotta go check on Lily and Happy anyway.” He took another step back, Lucy looking up at him and ignoring Loke’s comment on ‘devil spawn’.

“Sit.” She ordered, but Natsu remained standing awkwardly, pulling nervously at the sleeves of his hoodie.

“C-Can I erm, go get some food first?” He stammered.

“Oh, of course!” Lucy blushed, realising she may have come across as a little bossy, “Help yourself! We’ll still be here when you come back!”

Natsu looked as though he were doubtful of that fact, but he nodded anyway before shuffling away. Lucy watched him go, shoulders hunched and hands stuffed into the pocket of his ripped jeans as though he were trying not to draw attention to himself.

“Wow Lu, eager much?” Cana’s snicker drew Lucy’s attention back to the table.

“It’s not like that!” Lucy flushed, “I just- he… seems kind of familiar is all.”

Her mind flitted back to earlier, when she’d bumped into him on her way out of the auditorium. The way he’d looked at her… and he said her name like it was a prayer. Even remembering it sent shivers down her spine. She wondered again how he’d known her name before she told it to him.

“Didn’t you do volunteer work with that special needs school last year?” Gray pondered, frowning when he received a slap to the wrist from Cana as he was caught stealing another of her fries, “Maybe he was a student there and that’s where you remember him from.”

“What is your problem?” Lucy hissed, kicking his shin under the table. His answering yelp of pain was grossly exaggerated, “Why do you hate him so much? You’ve only known him for a few hours.”

“Gray’s just a little worried that Natsu’s desired cabin temperature will thaw his frozen heart.” Loke mused as he closely inspected the piece of lettuce impaled on his fork, “Or, y’know, that Natsu is hot enough to do it himself.”

Gray looked more horrified than he had when he and Lucy had watched The Human Centipede on Halloween last year at Loke’s words. Their orange haired friend simply shoved his fork in his mouth, the lettuce having passed his inspection. Loke finally caught Gray’s look and flashed him a green-flecked grin.

“Juvia wishes she could thaw Gray’s frozen heart.” Juvia pouted from beside Gajeel.

“My heart isn’t frozen,” Gray scowled, “And you’re way hotter than Natsu.”

Juvia squeaked as Gray’s face turned as red as the tomatoes in Loke’s salad. Cana and Lucy shared a look of delighted surprise while Gajeel and Levy looked a mix of amused and uncomfortable. Gajeel holding majority of the latter in his expression, as Lucy no doubt suspected he was losing circulation in his arm by now.

Natsu took a deep breath as he walked back to the table, eyebrows knitting as he joined mid sentence.

“Who’s hotter than me?” Natsu questioned, adopting his previous stance of standing awkwardly by the table, this time with a tray stacked with food.

“No one!” Lucy blurted, the same time Gray drawled ‘Everyone’.

Natsu stood there chuckling nervously as he glanced at everyone seated, avoiding Lucy’s eyes for fear his face would literally catch on fire. There was an awkward moment of silence during which Juvia- still attached to Gajeel’s arm- narrowed her eyes at him and hissed something that sounded distinctly like ‘Love Rival’.

When his eyes finally met Lucy’s once more, she smiled at him brightly and patted the space beside her. Natsu gulped, mustering his courage as he sat down.

Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird, rang through his head like a mantra.

He sat in silence, nervously poking at his food. Gajeel always told him he was a monster when he ate. He figured a sweet girl like Lucy wouldn’t want to see something so… uncouth. That’s what Grandine had called it right? Something about no manners. He was too nervous to eat anyway.

He dared a glance at her out the corner of his eye. He couldn’t believe this was real. That he was sitting right next to her. At Fairy Tail. Maybe he’d have the best summer of his life and during the final performance the beat of the song would turn into the steady thrum of one of those hospital machines, and really he’d just been in a coma the whole time. That seemed a whole lot more likely than finding her again and her actually liking him.

He chanced another look, just to make sure she was still there. Green eyes met brown. Natsu quickly looked away.

“Can I ask you a question?” Lucy turned to him, setting her fork down and pushing her plate away.

Natsu sat up straighter, keenly aware of her focus on him. He pushed his own plate away despite having yet to eat one bite.

“Sure.” He offered her a weak smile.

Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird.

This was it. He was going to have an actual conversation with her. Not an imagined one. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her he’d already known her name when she’d offered her hand earlier. She knew he already knew her name. Oh god, what if she thought he was a stalker or something? Girls like her probably had their fair share of stalkers. Oh god oh god oh god, what had that icy bastard told her while he’d been in the lunch line? What if she didn’t even remember bumping into him before. She didn’t remember making out with him, why would she remember him gaping at her? Oh god he didn’t think he could take her forgetting him twice-

“Are you alright?” Lucy frowned at him.

“W-Was that the question?”

“No,” A furrow appeared between her brows as she leaned a little closer to him, “You’ve just gone awfully pale all of a sudden...”

He was dimly aware of Gray and Loke snickering in the background, but for the most part the sound was drowned out by the ringing of his pulse in his ears.

This was it. This was what a heart attack felt like.

“Ah yes,” A skimpily clad brunette sitting two down from Lucy leaned across the table to nod at him in deep understanding, “That was my exact face when I first got a stellar view of the twin peaks.”

Natsu’s mind groped for understanding until the brunette made a honking motion with her hands in front of her own chest. Natsu looked back to Lucy in confusion, then his eyes moved of their own accord.

It was just for a split second, but when his eyes found hers again he knew. He knew that she knew. They both leaned back slightly, cheeks blazing pink. He was dead. His heart attack had killed him and now he was in hell. Pure, mortifying, hell.

Lucy shielded her chest before whirling on her friends.

“Cana!” She screamed, “What have I told you about-”

But Natsu didn’t hear the rest of Lucy’s protests as he felt a jolt go through the table, his tray of food moving away from him with the force. He looked up to find Gray twisting the handle of his fork, working it deeper into the wood of the table as he glared at him.

“You’re dead,” Gray seethed, his words uttered in a quiet but deadly calm. Natsu heard them loud and clear even over Lucy’s shouting, “You so much as look at-”

“Gray please,” Loke sighed from between the still yelling Lucy and Cana, “When they’re that nice you can’t blame a man for peeking.”

“Loke!” Lucy and Gray yelled in unison.

“Juvia knew chivalry wasn’t dead.” Juvia sighed dreamily, “Gray is a true gentleman.”

“How can he be a gentleman when he’s not even wearing a shirt!” Natsu protested.

“You say that like I don’t threaten guys who look at you all the time.” Gajeel frowned at Juvia, who finally let go of his arm to rest her chin in her hands and stare dreamily into the distance.

“Juvia wishes Gray was her protector.”

This spurred another round of protests from Lucy, who insisted Gray was not her protector. Gajeel expressed his disbelief on Juvia’s deaf ears, claiming the girl was ungrateful. Cana and Loke were placing bets on which of Lucy’s assets would distract Natsu next, while Natsu demanded to know why Gray was willing to murder him for glancing- which he stated, many times, was unintentional- at Lucy’s chest while others were freely allowed to discuss it in depth.

The ruckus of their table drew many curious stares, all of which Levy noticed as she watched the mess unfold before her.

“You’re crazy.” She whispered to herself, “All my new friends are crazy.”

Their whole table became so engrossed in their arguing that they didn’t notice the steady rise of their ‘indoor voices’ or the red-head stepping up to the announcer's podium on the other side of the room.

“SILENCE.”

The voice roared over the speaker, stopping not just their table but all the others dead. Lucy’s stomach filled with dread as everyone’s eyes turned to the redhead behind the podium, only to find that she was glaring directly at their table.

“Shit.” Lucy heard Gajeel whisper.

This was promptly followed by Natsu.

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” He whispered to himself.

Lucy turned towards him to find him hurrying out of his seat, his green eyes wide with fear and never leaving the podium. She followed his gaze to find not only the red haired girl making her way towards their table, but Gajeel practically crushing Levy -who was frozen in place in fear- in his attempt to flee his seat.

The moment Gajeel was free he ran, head ducked as he darted through the tables as though that would do anything to hide his bulky six foot and heavily pierced frame. She turned back to find Natsu crouched by the table ready to flee. He seemed to be hesitating.

He held his hand out to her cautiously.

“Come with me if you want to live.” He whispered dramatically.

Lucy barely had time to squint at him in confusion before Natsu squeaked- actually squeaked- in fear and scuttled away.

When she turned back to the table, her friends shared her look of immense confusion. Levy was staring down at the table, avoiding any and all eye contact.

Gray shrugged the expression off with a roll of his eyes.

“Pussies.” He snorted in amusement.

A shadow fell over their table.

“Disgusting.” The red haired girl scowled as she stood at the head of their table. “You. What is your name?”

She pointed a finger at Gray, who swallowed nervously. He was trying not to look scared, but Lucy could see right through him. The poor boy was terrified.

Lucy didn’t blame him. Intimidation was practically rolling off this girl in waves. She seemed a little older than the rest of them. Her stance was powerful, chest sticking out slightly as though to show off the Fairy Tail logo on the breast of her t-shirt off with pride. Lucy gulped as she read the words Camp Enforcer embroidered there.

“G-Gray Fullbuster?” Gray answered in a timid voice.

“You don’t seem very sure about that.” The girl narrowed her eyes at him. Lucy watched her carefully as the girls head shot up and looked around the room. “Natsu! Gajeel! Don’t think I don’t hear you snickering out there. I will find you!”

Lucy heard a distant crash near the back entrance accompanied by shouts of ‘Save your own ass Flame Brains!’ from what she assumed was her new friends mad dash for freedom. She was suddenly very glad she’d stayed as the redhead’s eyes blazed with anger. The consequences seemed worse for running.

“As for you,” She addressed Gray again, “Do you always use such vulgar language when there are children present?”

“Ah- I- Erm-” Gray stammered.

His chest was heaving and he was beginning to sweat. Lucy and Loke shared a worried look. Gray looked like he was on the verge of an asthma attack, even though he hadn’t had one in over eight years. Lucy still carried an inhaler with her, just in case, but it was back in her cabin.

The first call to the Camp Paramedics was postponed however, when Juvia unleashed the full force of her smile.

“Erza!” She beamed, “Juvia is so happy to see you!”

The redhead- Erza- turned her gaze to Juvia. Her anger seemed to dissipate somewhat at the joy in Juvia’s smile.

“Juvia,” Erza greeted with a nod, “I’m glad to see you’ve made some friends. Albeit disrupting ones.”

“We’re very sorry about that ma’am!” Lucy pipped up, seizing the chance to get into the ‘Camp Enforcers’ good books, “It won’t happen again.”

“I can assure you it won’t,” Erza smiled pleasantly, “Not after I catch those two swine. Nice to see you as well Levy.”

Without any further chit-chat, Erza went on her merry way. Lucy could have sworn there was a skip in her step as she went off in the direction Natsu and Gajeel had fled.

“I could have died,” Gray wheezed with a hand to his chest, “I should be dead.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Cana drawled, “Juvia would have given you mouth to mouth, there was never any danger.”

“Would Gray like some CPR?” Juvia questioned the dark haired boy eagerly, shuffling a little closer to him.

“Erm, I can breathe just fine on my own, thank you.” Gray cringed a little as Juvia wrapped her arms around his.

“Juvia can’t.” She sighed as she rested her chin on Gray’s shoulder, “Gray takes Juvia’s breath away.”

The rest of the table made gagging noises, but Loke looked impressed.

“Damn,” The orange haired boy muttered beside Lucy, “That one was smooth.”

A sharp staticky sound filled the room, drawing all eyes back to the podium at the front of the cafeteria. As sudden as the noise had been it was cut off, unintelligible frustrated mutterings and curses coming from the seemingly empty stand. Lucy watched as two bells came into view, attached to the ends of a purple and orange stripped court jesters hat -Lucy assumed that's what it was supposed to be anyway. More agitated murmurs floated through the air until finally the head of the camp director Makarov popped into place.

“Listen up brats,” he began, white moustache twitching in a scowl as he eyed the direction Erza had walked -skipped- off in. His expression softened to a wry smile when he looked around the room and at the expressions of the teenagers around him. “So here we are, yet another start to Camp Fairy Tail.

“I just want to wish everyone an unofficial and Fairy Tail welcome, and I hoped all you youngsters enjoyed our opening ceremony, courtesy of our very own Gildarts Clive.” A small round of applause scattered through the campers, Lucy smiling at Makarov’s warm grin at the sound. “Yes, an amazing force of Fairy Tail when he remembers to come back home from his tours. Oh shut up you know it’s true you walking wrecking ball.” Cana snorted as the hushed sounds of Makarov bickering with her father came through the microphone, giving a small wave when Gildarts beamed over and swung his arm through the air in exaggerated motions.

Makarov released a heavy sigh, muttering under his breath before he forced a large smile on his face and continued speaking.

“As all of our returning family know, the first week is a settling in week. The camp directors and I want to let all you brats get used to the layout and the independence of the camp, as well as to meet some of your fellow campers.

“This year’s week themes will be posted by the end of the day today and the pairings for the first week will be picked by the councilors, both from your submitted bio’s and from our watching you interact. Most pairings will stay within the age groups, but sometimes we like to see one of our older children mentor the younger ones. There will also be a karaoke night one of these evenings, please see our lovely Mira Jane for more details.” Makarov scratched the side of his head, eyes closed and brows knitted in thought. Lucy snuck a glance at Cana and Loke, the only two in the original group who had been here previously -granted it had been years ago. Both were smiling fondly as they looked up at the podium, Makarov still capturing their attention like a grandfather who was telling the same story about walking up the hill both ways before handing out a piece of candy. Or a beer, in Cana’s case.

A loud crash and a high pitched wail came from outside the cafeteria, followed by what Lucy assumed was a war cry. Makarov’s eyes opened tiredly and his shoulders drooped, Lucy thinking she saw the phrase ‘I’m too old for this’ mouthed by the old man.

“And a last reminder. There is no camp enforcer at Fairy Tail. Just a very, very, passionate young woman who could quite possibly kill a bear. Good luck!” And with that note his head disappeared behind the podium again, an eerie silence falling over the campers in the seconds following.

Lucy grinned worriedly as she made eye contact with Juvia. Well, that was one way to start off the summer.

Playlist:

All The Boys - Panic! At The Disco (Not on Spotify)

The Middle - Jimmy Eats World

The Take Over, The Breaks Over - Fall Out Boy

Right Back At It Again - A Day To Remember

Come Alive - Astoria Kings

[ecotone99]

[SF] They Came From The Moon

Note: I don't care about the real-life details of the real event that's being reported on right now. This is my inspired take on it. Enjoy.

​

It all started when we went back to the moon. And now here I am, about to die. There’s not too many of us left, I don’t think. At this point, they’ve pretty well exterminated us. And they won’t stop until they get every last one of us. I’m certain of that. I’m surrounded now, and I’m not going to get away. There’s nothing I can do.

These damn things are indestructible. You can shoot them, stab them, bomb them, nuke them. And they just keep coming. The most indestructible creatures known to man. And to think they started out microscopic and insignificant.

Fucking tardigrades. Water bears. Moss piglets. Monsters.

Of course, it’s our own fault. These things were perfectly content, blissfully unaware, non-sentient little bugs who never hurt anything or anyone. Fine tuned over bazillions of years of evolution, the little bastards were perfectly adapted to, well, everywhere. Water, frozen and boiling, volcanoes, tropical rainforests, you name it. People say only cockroaches and twinkies would survive world-wide nuclear holocaust, but so would tardigrades. These things can live in the vaccuum of space for jebus’ sake.

At some point we decided it was a fan-fucking-tastic idea to shoot them off to the moon to “see what would happen.” Humans. Balls, we’re stupid sometimes. Not that our smartest minds could have foreseen the events that would happen to transpire a few decades later. At that time, it was no big deal. The tardigrades were dehydrated and cryo-frozen in epoxy, and sandwiched between plates of nickel. And then these plates - no larger than a DVD - were blasted off to the moon, where an Israeli ship crashed into the lunar surface. Oops.

Oh, and also sandwiched between those plates of nickel? Human DNA.

Human DNA and tardigrades. Together. Forever. Why you ask? Fuck knows.

And now here we are, a couple decades later, facing certain extinction. I don’t know if anyone knows how they became what they are - indestructible, slimy, 12 foot tall, sentient (REALLY fucking sentient) tardigrades. I don’t know, I’m not a scientist. Although now that I think of it, there very well may no longer be any human scientists around. So maybe I’m the closest thing to a scientist now. Maybe I’m the smartest human left on this monsterbug-infested planet. And I’m surrounded by them. Not so smart, I’m thinking.

What we do know is that a little over seven years after that initial tardigrade-dump on the moon, we went back for them. We always intended to of course. Scientists wanted to see how the lunar environment - weaker gravity, temperatures nearing absolute zero, the bombardment of radiation (so, SO much radiation) - would affect the biology and chemistry of those little shits, and apparently that of human DNA.

So these discs came back to Earth. A fully automated combination lander/rover/rocket blasted off from Kennedy Space Station in August, 2026. Space X’s latest and greatest at that time. It gently reverse-thrusted it’s way to the lunar surface 42 hours later. The rover unfolded itself from the lander rocket, set its 12 treaded wheels on the dusty, grey ground, and embarked on its mission. It took a little while, but eventually it made its way to a series of craters that upon first glance looked empty. But half buried and scattered throughout the two largest craters, were four DVD sized discs that the rover came for. Nothing else survived. No debris from the crash, no additional components. It was designed that way in case of a crash. You know, don’t contaminate alien worlds and all. Just the discs. Almost as if it was intended that way.

With the discs rounded up and safely stored away, the rover made its way back to the lander - now lunar rocket - and mechanically secured itself into a specially designed niche on the side of the ship. And off it went, right back to whence it came.

So they came back. Seemingly no different than when they blasted off the first time. NASA and Israeli scientists initially reported that the cryo-frozen tardigrades appeared to sustain very little, if any damage, and that they were still blissfully alivedead in their cozy little petri dishes. Re-hydrated, they went right back to their unassuming tardigrade ways, sucking nutrients from mosses and lichens through their face-holes and floating around lazily in saline solution. That’s the last I had heard back in the day, and hadn’t thought anything of it until the mushroom clouds appeared.

That was about two years ago, I’d say. I haven’t kept track. Maybe a bit more, maybe a bit less. It’s either late 2039 or early 2040 now. Winter. Only there’s no snow, there hasn’t been since last winter when nuclear fallout toasted most things and dried it to a crisp.

Those blasts killed most things. Not a whole lot of us survived. Not a whole lot of anything survived. But a few of us did. Cockroaches, and some people who had the wherewithal to shield themselves in time. And a few of us who can only chalk it up to dumb luck. I was out fishing when it started. Deep, deep in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Considering packing it in for the day, fish-less, when I noticed the sky darkening and grey-green smoke rising between two peaks in the distance. Forest fire was the first thing that came to mind. Until the smoke quickly took a form that is unmistakable. As the mushroom-cap billowed upwards, I turned and ran. Had it not been for old crazy ass mountain man Liam, I’m sure I would have radiation puked myself to death within days or weeks.

That guy was a riot. And I mean, a machine gun totin’, bear trap loadin’, full blown lunatic of a man. The guy turned his small peaceful cabin and surrounding lands in the middle of nowhere into Fort Fucking Knox. That’s what he called it. Only he wasn’t guarding gold (maybe he was?), he was guarding himself. From them lib’ral snowflake soshulists comin’ for his guns. And his rights, he tells ya what.

So by a strange cascade of events that I don’t have time for here - mostly me runstumbling through the brush - I found my way to Liam’s bunker. More like, he found me. At gun point. The man, staring at me down the barrel of a Kalashnikov; greasy, stringy white hair flowing from under a disgusting old red trucker cap with worn once-white lettering on the front. I couldn’t make the words out, but it looked familiar from a time long ago. I thought I could vaguely make out the phrase “...GREAT AGAIN.” After much deliberation I was successfully able to convince him that indeed I was NOT one of them soshulist motherfuckers. I told him our govmint turned on us and were nukin’ us goddammit. I had no idea what was going on, I had to tell him something.

Liam’s place - Fort Fucking Knox - happened to come equipped with a state of the art nuclear fallout bunker. Of course it did. One of those they sold in mail order catalogs back in the 1950s. Better than duck-n-cover. So we holed up for a while. We ate a shit load of baked beans. Luckily, Liam preferred to keep to hisself and for the most part, that’s what he did. We listened to the chatter on his shortwave receivers, which is how we came to understand - mostly - what was happening. Liam didn’t keep TeeVee, or internet, or satellite. Just his goddamn CB radios. Probably a good thing, because I’m pretty sure these things would have found us sooner if he wasn’t so goddamn paranoid. They were smart. Very smart.

Not a whole lot more to report, honestly. Some time has passed, and Liam dies from some shit. No idea what. One day he just wouldn’t wake up. For the best though, I was gonna kill him soon if he hadn’t. I couldn’t take any more of his conspiracy theories, or his baked beans.

Over time the chatter on the CB radios went quiet. They were all getting found. I even listened to a couple good ol’ boys broadcast their own terrifyingly gruesome deaths. The Water Bears found them. It didn’t take long, they found them all.

Now, the bunker is surrounded. I have guns - Liam’s guns - and I have explosives. I have actual hand grenades. I’ve been out of the bunker a bit these last couple weeks, I don’t think the radiation is too bad, I’m only puking once every couple days or so. I’ve taken guns out looking for things to shoot. No animals anywhere, no birds chirping, not even a cricket.

And that’s how I fucked up. You see, I was out looking for anything to eat besides baked beans, when I rounded a group of huge boulders. And I saw it. That thing. It was huge, at least as big as the largest boulder I was standing next to. At first it didn’t know I was there, and it was preoccupied with something I couldn’t see. Then it froze. And much quicker than it had any right to, based on its fleshy marshmallow man contours, it half-twisted around to face me. It’s alien face - is it a face? - staring directly at me. The bung that is it’s mouth/face-hole slowly puckering in anticipation.

We stood there frozen for many milliseconds. Then I acted, pulling Liam’s only AR-15 around and semi-automatically squeezing off as many rounds into its pudgy rice pudding torso as I could. More rounds. I was on my ass on the ground now, the assault rifle having knocked me over. But I kept shooting. It folded in, like a roley-poley and collapsed face-down. I could see brown green goo dripping from the exit wounds on its reverse side. Thankfully, no one came and took away Liam’s guns.

Then they slowly, but surely, closed up. The wounds. They healed right before my eyes, and the thing started to tremble and move. I took off. As fast as my aging knees would let me, I stumbled back through the wild, crashing through the steel barbed front gate of Fort Fucking Knox. I didn’t stop until I was down in the bunker, locked from the inside.

That was two days ago - I think. Not like I’ve slept, and I’ve stopped looking at the clock. I’m not even sure what time or day it was when I got back to the bunker after shooting that thing. I knew, of course, that they were indestructible. I heard as much from the handhelds. Guns, bombs, nukes. Apparently, we (the govmint) retaliated by shooting nukes at Canada. This after the bugs already nuked Canada and most of the rest of the world. Wasn’t much left of ‘Mercia then either. But we still had our nukes.

They wanted to see if we could nuke those bastards. Because perhaps our nukes were better than those Russian nukes that already gave their college-try. Apparently not. Or if the nukes did get ‘em, more just came in their place.

Fucking machetes. One good ol’ boy hacked one up with a machete. Then as he was proudly broadcasting his victory on channel 13.5, the thing got him.

And now, here I am. Surrounded. I know I am, because I’m watching them on the closed circuit monitors. I’m going to die. Not sure if today, or tomorrow, or when, but I’m going to die. At least I’m in the bunker. I’m certain they can’t get in here. Reinforced concrete and steel. Underground. So I’ll just watch them, LEARN them. For my own edu-ma-fuckin-cation. I’ll eat these beans, though I’m only seeing about half a dozen more cans. I’ll drink whatever water is left, also not much. And then I’ll die. Either I’ll starve or die of thirst, or maybe I’ll rig up this whole damn place and blast myself and them to kingdom come. Or just myself. I turned around and puked into an old stainless steel turkey fryer.

I guess we’ll just see what happens. You know, it’s a bit ironic, don’tcha think? For decades now people have been freaking out over the climate changing. Me too. Now I’m in a bunker in the middle of a wasteland. And we didn’t even do THAT shit. People have been freaking out over viruses - these “super bugs”. The flu is goddamn scary these days, for sure. People die from that. At least, they did. Super bugs. Ain’t that some shit. I’m looking at the real Super Bugs right now, in all their closed-circuit, black and white, low resolution glory.

Fucking Tardigrades. Tardigrades from the fucking moon. And yes, we did that shit.

submitted by /u/bridesign34 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/33n2qi5

[thewesbrown-blog]

Kansas City

There she was. Sat on the backseat de-clawed, de-fanged and drugged out of her mind. The car came scudding in towards The Dreamland Motel, summer 72 and Smokey the wrestling bear riding in a pink Cadillac. Earl Black pulled up, one thumbless hand on the wheel.

Harley Cage was wearing aviators and a leisure suit, hazy in chassis gleam. "Get in," Earl stretched for the passenger side door. "She ripped the truck apart. I had to belt her up in the back."

"Well I’ll be damned," Harley said. “She's happier than ol' Blue layin on the porch chewin a big old catfish head."

Harley was one of the toughest guys in the business. His in-character and out-of-character voice sounded exactly the same. It was enough to make grown men quiver. He had beaten polio as child, shaken off cancer and survived several near-fatal car crashes he mostly caused. Nobody would ride with him. He got in the car.

Earl was wearing slacks and a t-shirt with a bear on the front.

"You're a kooky ass guy, do you know that?" Harley said. "Crazy as a pet coon."  

Smokey was famous. She had wrestled over three hundred matches. Most barely lasted a minute. She starred in films. Earl let her wrestle on set with film stars like Clint Eastwood and Lee Marvin. Football players like Rod Marinelli or Dick Butkus. Everybody wrestled Smokey. She was only six-two and three-hundred but was regularly billed as eight five and six-fifty. This was wrestling. Showbusiness. Smokey was a special attraction and got Earl Black booked across the mid-South. But the act was getting old and the shows were drying up. Earl had side-lined himself. Everybody said so.

Harley growled at the bear, "Who you looking at beautiful?"

Then looked sadly at his flannel jacket and gold medallion.

"The boys keep ribbing my threads."

"It’s because you wear the same Goddamn suit every day,” Earl answered. “You look like Iceberg Slim."

There was a bottle of dog shampoo on the creamily-upholstered backseat above the sheets of bedding and Smokey snored, drool windswept from her snout.

"There’s even a lizard on the circuit now," Harley said. "Some punk is wrestling gators in the Great Lakes."

"Assholes."

"You need to change up the act. Keep yourself fresh. Everybody’s looking for the next big thing. One guy has a snake in North Carolina."

"What do I do with Smokey?"

"Send her to a retirement home, a circus, a zoo. I don't know. Just let her go out the same way we all do, on top."  

"People love Smokey," Earl responded angrily. "People don’t just see her as a bear, a special attraction, she’s a character. A worker in her own right."

“I’m not trying to ride you or nothing.”

Smokey sat up. The rear-view filled with the small black eyes, rounded ears and long snout of the three-hundred pounder he rescued from the roadside as a cub and called his daughter. They had a lot in common. Both had been orphaned. Both ate five thousand calories a day and they could share the same meals.

She wasn't the love of his life but he wished she was.

They drove passed El Dorado falls. There were ranches, hikers in the distance, and a waterfall. Before he was a wrestler, Earl was a merchant seaman. He sailed the world for five years. He was scouted in a gym in New Zealand and found work ever since. He went country to country, territory to territory.

Smokey fell asleep again, ramrod straight, still dozy. Paws rested on her grey-pink belly, racked with nipples. Earl was the son of a clergy-man. Something about the sea, like the night sky, scared Earl and he liked it. The immensity. The sense of the infinite. The road felt the same way. The great pink ship of his Cadillac sailing down the highway sky stretched out before them. This was life on the road. The wilding sun. On the long straights the car streaked into a blur.

"Wichita was hot last night," Harley said. "Some hillbillies tried to invade the ring and we had to fight them back to the dressing room."

"I had similar in Calgary but I got caught in the top rope. They’re loose up there, you know? A woman wrestler laid out a lumberjack with one punch."

Earl’s spoke in a low monotone staring at the road.

"Anyway, when I got back to the dressing room a pair of twins were waiting for me. Russians, I think and I made a real pig of myself," Harley stroked his whiskers. “How about you? Any luck?"

"Not lately."

"You got to get yourself out there. I bet that thing is a pussy magnet."

"She's been a good friend to me. That's for sure."

Earl turned on the stereo, Wichita Lineman. I hear you singing' in the wire. I can hear you through the whine. Smokey, paws waving, bellowed.

"Please," Harley groaned. "I’m hungover."

"You’re always hungover."

"That’s because I’m always drinking," he growled pilling his cap over his eyes. "You should party, you know? I'm serious, I worry man."

"Most music is just noise to me. This is a real song. Smokey likes country. It seems to keep her amused. Bears have a great sense of humour, you know? They like to play around."

"I’ll bet."

"They do."

"They also stink of shit. I think the bitch has shit herself."

"Of course she has."

"It's rotten. I might puke."

"It's natural."

"It naturally stinks of fucking shit, hombre."

Smokey sat up hearing raised voices. The car rock and rolled. Her long sloped snout, mouth half open, grunted a moan. When her massive head moved it was animatronic and fabulous, night shade dark

Harley gagged and quivered.

"Let me out dude. I'm gonna retch."

"We'll be there soon."

"Let me out."

"We don't have far."

Harley pulled a snubnose Smith & Wesson from the glove box and pointed it at Earl's head.  

"Jesus Christ, motherfucker." He yelled. "Stop the Goddamn car."

Earl slammed the brakes. The car drifted in a skid-marked half moon, prairie dust rising.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" He bashed his fist on the dashboard. “For Godssake. You trying to get us killed?"

Harley doubled-up, Smokey roared. Then he puked. They sat wordless in the spun-out vehicle. Brake pads scorched. Earl checked on Smokey and then walked into the flatland. What could he do? Harley was a veteran. He couldn't risk being kicked off the show. He had Smokey to feed. A luxury flat in Wichita with a swimming pool, floral wallpaper, a refrigerator, etc.

Bushes, loamy grasses, silt. The afternoon sunshine was overwhelming. He walked in the heat to cool his anger. The flies buzzed static. He stopped for a whiz by a wire fence where a wooden sign read Keep Grassland Free: No Government Acquisition painted with the kind of psychedelic styling, hand-lettered, like the placards of the peaceniks who protested outside shows, only to tell him what he already knew.

Animals are humans.

A shot fired. Greyish-brown topsoil spun. Another shot drilled past his trouser leg. Harley laughed smoky-eyed. Then he fired again.

"You're an asshole!" Earl shouted. "Do you know you're an asshole?"  

At five forty-five they arrived at The Memorial Hall. Outside fans crowded, trying to get closer to Smokey. Earl pushed past. The hippies were waiting with animal rights slogans on placards. The venue hosted Pink Floyd last night. Thursday was All-Star Wrestling. The first of the month was a television taping. The matches would play across the state on cable. There would be three and a half thousand people in the arena. A hundred thousand watching on TV. When they parked up, Earl chained Smokey's muzzle and walked them to the stage door.

Who would stop them?

Harley carried his bag in silence. Earl wheeled his luggage in a duffel bag, all black.

They hadn't spoken for nearly forty minutes. They had spats like this. It was part of riding with Harley. He was always getting them in trouble with promoters for being late because he got them into a scrap with truck drivers or rode around a hundred miles an hour.

He didn't have to be buzzed to go crazy.  

"You're not still hot because I goosed ya?" Harley asked. "It was a prank for God's sake. You know I'm a good shot. I was aiming for your trouser leg."

"What if you missed?"

"I've shot squirrels between the eyes as they jump tree to tree," he laughed. "I'm the best Goddamn shot for twenty states."

Earl scratched his head so he had a reason to not make eye contact.

"These slacks cost nearly fifty dollars."

"You'll earn nine times that tonight."

They entered the locker-room making sure to shake everybody's hand, softly, almost not-touching. They were only practicing the illusion. A queue formed and the boys greeted her like a dog. The promoter had ordered a bucket of meat and salad from a nearby diner. The room was large and bright and Earl began to undress and re-dress, pulling on his black tights and sitting down on a cantilever bench he laced up his knee-high black jackboots with a skull down the side.

Harley sat across the bench changing into his new red trunks. He had three-quarter boots, hockey socks pulled up to his shins. He rubbed baby-oil into his grizzly body. He told Earl his theory that the soft slick would gleam right through the tube. Colour-transmission changed everything.  

"I don't believe it," Harley spoke into his hand. "I'm down to take a clean fall against The Coyote. Jesus, that guy is the shits."

"Isn't he the promoters nephew?"

"Damn right."

  Running order, match length, and results were taped to the door. Earl pointed at the card.

"He wants me to go ten with Smokey."

The first bell had rung. The show was under way and the locker room looked like it would before a football game, a team of guys talking through high spots interspersed with wrestle-talk, what was going on in other promotions, who they should look out for, who was getting over.  

Trainees were running ring-jackets back to the locker-room. Stage-hands. Now and then, the ring crashed with a slam. The crowd came in a crescendo and sounded like day-trippers going down a roller-coaster. Earl barked at one of the trainees to change the sheets on the backseat of the Cadillac. Smokey would shit about five times a day and constantly sprayed the upholstery with piss.

He sat there drinking a bottle of Coca-Cola.

Smokey was feeding, face-deep in the bucket.

Ted Walker, the promoter, introduced himself and they all shook hands. He had a white beard and uneven tan lines. Walker and his brothers had served in the Vietnam War. He was part of an underwater demolition team.

"Do you guys have everything you need?"

"Smokey likes a Coke after her match."

"We can arrange for that."

"Make sure it's in a bottle, please." Earl said without eye-contact. "She can't drink out of a cup and things like that can make her cranky."

Walker looked him in the eye.  

"Anything else? What the hell. I can get her a bowl of porridge too if you want. I'll make sure it's just right."

"She doesn't like porridge," Earl said with no sense of irony. Walker glanced at Harley circling his finger round his temples.

"Have you got anything different?" Walker asked.

"I don't need anything," Earl said.

Walker looked at the tattoo on Earl's name reading 'Rebecca.' "I don't understand why people get tattoos," he spoke like a sergeant, "Who is it? Some darling?"

"She was my daughter," Earl said.  

Then he spent a few minutes doing free squat and push ups, working up a rhythm. Blood-flow.    

When he got the call he led Smokey by the muzzle down the walkway. There were two-tiers of fans already cheering her on. At ringside he asked for a mike. Then he told the crowd nobody was man enough to wrestle him. Earl Black was a specimen. All the women in the audience should go home and wash the dirt from their husband's fingernails because this is what a real man looks like. The crowd booed. He held his hands to his ears and squirmed. Boos, louder. Somebody threw a can of soda. It just missed his head. A smile shaped on his lips.

The referee kept his distance near the corners of the ring. Earl circled his opponent. They locked up in the middle of the ring. Smokey up on her hind legs, toe to toe. He grappled her with one arm over hers and the other slipping inside, trying to knock her down. He slid his forearm across her snout, wet-nose streaking down his arm knowing one whip of her head could break a rib. Smokey knew how to do a flying mare and used it, multiple times pulling Earl by his neck. Earl rolled. The crowd cheered. Smokey clambered over him and he had a face-full of smooth-skinned belly. Her six nipples rubbed over his face. She was lightly-odored maybe even a little cat-like. She smelled like home. He swung his weight out from under her and took her head in a grovit, burying his face in her fur, the blue-black darkness. The chain was long enough to allow them to manoeuvre the twenty foot by twenty foot square ring but easily tangled about Earl's feet. This is how his thumb was pulled clean off. Without him having to look, Smokey swept his legs from beneath him and he tumbled to the matt. He grabbed the referees legs who fell comedically over him and everybody laughed. Smokey lay her bulk across the Earl's chest and the referee made it back to a conscious footing to count the three. The crowd half cheered, half sighed.

Smokey sat down, grunting, on her rump in the middle of the ring enjoying a Coca-Cola from a glass bottle, fizz on her cold wet nose.        

Earl somehow knew then it was over.

That night they were headed back for Wichita. Earl had read in a guidebook that Kansas was named after the tribe meaning "people of the wind". He had tried to tell Walker but he pretended he already knew. Harley had been staying in The Dreamland Motel for three weeks and had six more left in Missouri. Before this, Harley worked Florida, Kentucky and Texas before then. He was always in demand. Earl had done the Missouri circuit for five years, since she died. Going round in circles. He led Smokey to the car and sat her down in the Kansas City dusk. The sky was a purplish dark, rivulets pinked in the clouds. A brown moth scattered across the bonnet.  

Harley came a few minutes later, a couple of blondes on his arm, kissing goodbye. The Russians, Earl guessed. He watched him run across the car park and vault into the pink Cadillac, throwing his overnight bag in the backseat.

"You'll rip my damn wing-mirrors off," Earl said.

"Harley has still got it, baby."

For the first few miles they didn't speak. The whole journey would only take about two hours. They were soon past Wilson Lake. There was already nothing here. Bush, desert, telegraph poles, leafless trees. Smokey sleeping in the back. Earl turned the stereo on. I hear you singin' in the wire. I can hear you through the whine.

The song relaxed his mind and he thought about his car. A 1956 Cadillac DeVille.

A two-door coupe.

Automatic three-speed gear box and he didn't care he was doing near one-hundred mph in the dark.

Facts like this eased him. He liked to recite them. Over and over.

"I'm a simple guy," he began. "I don't want to be recognised everywhere I go. I don't want a thousand women hanging off my arm. I don't like people taking liberties."  

Harley turned his head.

"I have your back buddy, don't you ever forget that."

"My back? You like me driving you around."

"What?"

"Nobody else will ride with you."

"Here's something you might not like to hear. I can get a ride wherever I like. Goddamnit, I'm so hot right now I could get Walker to drive me there by limousine while I entertained a whole troupe of Kansas City Chief's cheerleaders," Harley said. "I ride with you because I'm quite of the few guys who likes you. I get it man, I get what you're going through."  

The night was chilly and now totally dark. Already ten thirty. Earl kept one thumbless hand on the wheel. Blends of streetlight captured on the pink gleam of the chassis wings almost seemed afloat. The car made a moaning sound. Brake pads still sore.

Earl answered, "I'm not going through anything."

"You need to see the bigger picture, no matter how much it hurts."      

"And what is the bigger picture?" Earl was disconsolate. "I didn't realise you were some kind of shrink now too."

"Smokey is holding you back man. In every way imaginable. You don't go out. You don't get bookings. You've let your act become a sideshow."

"She is not a sideshow."

"If you even cared about her, you wouldn't drive her round in the fucking car like one."

"What did you say?"

"I mean, she's a wild animal. You gotta let her go. You gotta let go for your own sake."

Earl pulled up. This time he snatched the revolver from the glove box and pointed the weapon at Harley. Snubnose to his head. "Get out," he said. "Get out of the fucking car."

"Whatever."

"Get out and walk."

He felt the gun’s cold scorch on his skin. His neck tighten for the pulsing metal.

"I'm going, man. You're fucking beyond help."

Harley loosed open the door. He looked back shaking his head. Then set off, overnight bag in hand, down the roadside.  

Earl sat in the car playing the same song on a loop. He couldn't get past it. Earl clambered into the backseat and reached both arms around Smokey. He thought of Rebecca. He muzzled his face in Smokey's blue-black fur finding solace there. She made a motor-like noise and they butted heads in a friendly way as if they were wrestling. She could never be his daughter. After Rebecca died he drove through deserted streets every night alone until he found Smokey, a bearcub, still blind, lapping her fallen mother, a totalled pickup rolled on its side, blood spattered like a horror scene.

Smokey moved a single comforting paw across his face, claws stubby-shorn though still scratchy and he looked at her eyes dark sadness. Humans are animals too. He opened the door, unmuzzled, she ran into the night. He looked up at the stars recalling some things he had hoped for and some things he hadn't.

This story was originally published in Ink Magazine, a periodical showcase of new work from unpublished writers.