#i just got into deliveries please no angy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thelastspeecher · 3 years ago

Note

For your writers prompt about monster falls, how about the characters discovering their new diet preferences?

Ahhhhhh this was an EXCELLENT prompt that I got to work on right away, I loved it so much. Hopefully you love this ficlet as much as I loved your prompt!

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The back door slammed open. Fiddleford and Ford looked up from what they were doing. Stan stood in the doorway, blood splattered all over his clothes. He triumphantly held up a deer carcass. Ford promptly turned green. Fiddleford just sighed.

“Do ya have to bring that in here?” he asked haltingly.

“Angie’s stuck in her room,” Stan said defensively. “Either I bring the deer to her or I bring her to the deer. And bringing the deer to her is way easier.” Fiddleford sighed again. Stan’s theory that Angie hadn’t built up the necessary abdominal muscles to move well as a part snake had proven accurate. That morning, Angie had awoken too sore to leave her room, let alone hunt for the only kind of food she now found appetizing.

“Fine,” Fiddleford muttered. “Go ahead, make a mess.”

“Do you want your sister to get fed or not?” Stan asked. Fiddleford scowled.

“I just told ya to do what ya were doin’!”

“Fiddleford, Stanley, please,” Ford said plaintively. Stan rolled his eyes.

“I’m not the one starting shit, Sixer,” he retorted. “Here I am, doing something nice for this chick that I barely know-”

“Isssssss that Sssssstan?” Angie’s voice called from upstairs. Stan dropped the deer carcass to cup his hands around his mouth.

“Food delivery for you, sweet cheeks!” he shouted. There was a faint giggle. Fiddleford pursed his lips. “Oh, chill, Fiddledork,” Stan scoffed. “If Angie didn’t wanna be called ‘sweet cheeks’, she’d let me know.”

“She’s bedridden.”

“She can still bite me or strangle me or whatever nagas do to kill,” Stan said dismissively. He picked up the deer carcass again and marched through the kitchen. Fiddleford shook his head.

“Can’t believe him,” he muttered. Ford shrugged.

“If Angie’s fine with the flirting, you should be, too, Fiddleford.”

“She’s my-”

“-baby sister that was just turned into a magical creature, I know,” Ford finished. “But she’s also an adult. And she seems happy to reciprocate Stan’s flirting.” A strange look crossed his face. “Perhaps too happy. I’ll need to look into it, but I seem to recall reading something about nagas producing pheromones that are alluring to other reptilians.” Ford shook his head. “Never mind. I need to follow Stan quickly, or I’ll miss my chance to watch a naga feed.”

“Are ya sure ya want to?” Fiddleford asked. “Ya looked a bit green when Stan came in.”

“Will I be uncomfortable? Yes. But rarely is science comfortable.” Ford scampered after Stan, his cloven hooves sounding on the wooden floors. Fiddleford groaned softly and followed the brothers upstairs.

The room Angie had taken residence in, the attic, had previously been used for storage. The items they had yet to find new spots for in the cabin were shoved against the walls to make room for Angie’s nest. At the sound of footsteps, Angie’s head poked out from underneath a heated blanket. She shrugged the blanket off her shoulders and sat up, wincing slightly.

“Why did all of ya come up here?” she asked, bemused. Fiddleford hamboned at her. She frowned. “Sssssstanford, ya want to watch me…eat?”

“You can understand Fiddledork slapping his legs?” Stan asked.

“Yesssss. I can’t do it, but I know what it meansssss.”

“Maybe you could be a translator,” Ford suggested. “As Fiddleford’s transformation progresses, he’ll gradually lose his ability to speak. Already, communication has become difficult.”

“Or ya could learn how to underssssstand yourssssself,” Angie retorted, crossing her arms. She looked at Stan. “Thank you fer catchin’ me my lunch.”

“No problem, toots.” Stan set the deer carcass on the hardwood floor. Angie slithered forward to inspect it, the rest of her body emerging from her nest of electric blankets. Her scaled tail, banded red, yellow, and black, glimmered in the light of the massive heat lamp Fiddleford had cobbled together the day before. Stan tugged at his shirt collar. “It’s hotter than hell up here.”

“You might change your opinion once you finish transforming,” Ford said. “I’m still uncertain of what creature you will become, but you seem to be a firebreather. Firebreathing creatures are very fond of warm temperatures.”

“Maybe I’ll have to steal one of Angie’s blankets later, then.”

“You can try,” Angie hissed playfully, baring her fangs. Stan grinned at her. Yesterday, while Fiddleford was making a heat lamp for Angie, Stan had been sent into town to find as many electric blankets as possible. There were concerns about how well she could handle the frequently chilly early spring weather. When given the blankets, Angie had promptly arranged them into a nestlike configuration, then buried herself underneath. Angie looked down at the deer carcass. “Did it take ya long to catch it?”

“Nah. I, uh…” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. His hand rubbed against the maroon scales that were slowly spreading across his skin. “This is actually the second deer I caught.” Angie cocked her head curiously. “I…ate the first one.” Angie laughed. Ford stared at Stan, pale.

“What?” he asked weakly.

“I got hungry, okay?” Stan said defensively. “Hunting’s hard work! And I’ve never even done it before!”

“Ya did mighty well fer yer firssssssst time, then,” Angie said, prodding the deer carcass. Her tongue flicked in and out of her mouth eagerly. She looked over at Ford. “If ya wanted to ssssssee me eat, here ya go.” Before three pairs of horrified eyes, she opened her mouth, unhinged her jaw, and swallowed the deer whole.

Ford stumbled backwards, woozy. Stan caught him.

“You all right there, Sixer?” Stan asked. Ford nodded.

“I’m just…I think my own new species has resulted in some sensitivity to watching others consume meat.”

“Then maybe don’t watch me eat again,” Angie muttered.

“Yes, that- that would be wise.”

“Ssssssso I’m guesssssin’ you’ll be back to watch me eat ssssssssupper,” Angie said shortly. Stan snickered. Angie smiled at him. “Thank you again fer catching food fer me.” With that, she crawled back underneath her electric blankets and curled up. Her eyes slowly drifted shut.

“She needs some sleep to digest that meal,” Fiddleford croaked. “We should leave her be.”

“That was…” Stan ran his hands through his hair, staring at Angie, who was already fast asleep. He grimaced. “…weirdly hot?”

“What?!” Fiddleford screeched. Angie’s eyes shot open. She bared her fangs.

“Let me sssssssleep,” she hissed.

“Sorry. Sorry, Angie,” Fiddleford said. He gave Stan and Ford a meaningful look. The three men stomped downstairs. Once they were out of earshot of Angie, Fiddleford turned to Stan. “What did ya say up there?”

“Okay, maybe you guys didn’t think it was hot, but you guys wouldn’t think anything she does is hot,” Stan argued.

“I reckon her high school boyfriend wouldn’t find it attractive,” Fiddleford said tartly. Stan felt his cheeks burn.

“Get off my back, Fiddledork. I’m turning into a lizard or something, I’m probably hardwired to like that sorta thing. Right, Ford?”

“Um…” Ford said slowly. “Maybe?” Stan looked at him with concern. Ford was still white as a sheet.

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Once I eat something, I’ll recover,” Ford managed weakly. He cleared his throat. “I have some dandelion greens and a can of carrots that should allow me to bounce back.”

“You gonna eat the carrots or just the can?” Stan asked. Ford flushed, embarrassed. Shortly after he finished transforming, he had eaten a tin can without thinking about it. Apparently, fauns and goats had that in common. Unfortunately, Stan had seen, and refused to let it go. “Nah, go ahead and eat your rabbit food and garbage.” Stan grinned, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth. “I think I’m gonna practice hunting.”

“You left blood all over the house,” Fiddleford said. He gestured to the red smears on the floor from the deer carcass.

“All the more reason for me to go practice. If I get better, I’ll be able to take down a deer or whatever without getting blood everywhere,” Stan said cheerfully. “See you nerds later!” He strode out the front door. Fiddleford sighed.

“If you require some help cleaning-” Ford started. Fiddleford waved a hand.

“No, I’ll get it. You eat.”

“Once I’m feeling better, if you’re not done, I’ll assist you,” Ford said. He gave Fiddleford a peck on the check before heading to the kitchen. Fiddleford crouched down to look at the mess of blood on the floor. A strange, delicious smell suddenly wafted up. Fiddleford sniffed cautiously. His eyes widened. The smell was coming from the blood.

Nervously, Fiddleford prodded the blood. He brought the finger to his mouth and tasted it.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Of course that tastes amazin’ now.”

#oh I'm still accepting Monster Falls prompts btw #(also I would LOVE some more Monster Falls asks!!!!)#and yes. Stan is already falling for Angie. but can you blame him?#she's a hot snake lady #Angie McGucket #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Monster Falls AU #ficlet #ask #my writing #elishevart

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whack-ed · 4 years ago

Text

“Just Friends” (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Synopsis: A halloween party was what it took for you to finally do what you wanted to do with Fred.

Warnings: make out; underage drinking and extremely flirtation.

Reader: Female

World Count: 2.5k

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, I had some personal problems to solve, but here I am! this is a oneshot for the special A very Harry Potter Halloween by @masterofthedarkness and @eleven-times-lively. This one is for the 30th with the prompt Halloween Party! Hope you like it :)

tag list: @nebulablakemurphy @jamilelucato @inglourious-imagines @acciotwinz @clarissaxpearce

if you want to be tagged, send me a ask!

Finally October, the favorite time of year for Y/n. For various reasons, fantasies, sweets, the weather, absolutely everything Y/n loved most was present in October. But probably the thing the girl liked the better was the Weasley twins' Halloween party. And this year promised, it was the twins' last year at school and they promised the best Halloween party this school has ever seen.

Usually Y/n knew everything the twins were preparing, since they were a quartet. The twins, Y/n and Lee. These four names together gave chills to any teacher. But not this time. This year it was just Fred and George who were looking for trouble. The twins didn't let Y/n and Lee participate at all, the surprise was for everyone. And of course, Y/n's anxiety didn't leave the twins alone for a minute.

"Please Fred, tell me at least the color of the glasses!" Y/n insisted on Fred saying at least a little detail about the party. The secret was complete.

"I already said that I don't speak a word to you, Y/n" The redhead replied laughing.

They were in a history of magic class, automatically nobody was paying attention. The twins sat in the last row, Y/n and Lee just ahead.

"What are the drinks going to be, that's no big deal!" Lee asked as curious as Y/n.

"Not a word, Lee," George replied with a sly smile on his face, the same as the one on his brother's face.

"I hate you both" Y/n said irritably and turned forward.

Fred who was behind Y/n leaned forward and rested his head on the girl's shoulder, whispering her ear. Fred's proximity to Y/n's ear made the girl get goosebumps and close her eyes while the redhead spoke. "You don't miss out on waiting, baby"

George and Lee exchanged a look that they knew well what it meant. Y/n and Fred have always had this relationship ... doubtful. Nothing but indirect flirtations happened between the two, there was never anything else. George and Lee always questioned the two of them if something happened in the backstage that they didn't see, and of course, the answer was always the same "We are just friends". Only friends my ass, George thought. The boy knew his brother well to know when he was lying.

Fred then returned to his seat and Y/n kept her eyes closed digesting the sensation she had just had, wishing it had lasted a little longer. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked several times, returning to reality.

"My God, the sexual tension between you two can be cut with a knife," Lee said making the three friends laugh.

"We are just friends, you know that" Y/n replied and noticed that this time Fred's laugh was not genuine. Apparently George noticed it too. But of course it could only be Y/n's head.

The class passed slowly as usual, but amid laughter, scolding from the teacher and notes on the parchment, time finally passed. It was already lunchtime and Y/n couldn't be more thankful for that. Her thoughts could go from Fred to the mountain of mashed potatoes that awaited her.

Weeks passed and the twins had not yet given any information about the party. It wasn't just Lee and Y/n who were looking forward now, all seventh graders as well. The fact that Umbridge was taking care of the school, making so many rules, only made things more exciting. The twins couldn't be loud ... At least not in theory.

Now everyone was in the common room, some doing their homework and others just hanging out. Everything was calm until the most beloved twins in the world came in doing what they do best, drawing attention.

“My dear student friends" George was saying.

"Me and my dear brother, we finally have the invitations ready!" Fred completed.

"And what does that mean, bro?" George asked doing a theatrical pose.

"That not even the pink toad was able to stop the Weasley Twins!" Fred completed again by opening his arms also in a theatrical way.

“But it’s worth remembering that the party is only for people from the fifth year upwards” Some sad moans were heard from some students from the fourth year downwards “So my little grasshoppers, you who didn’t taste one of our Halloween parties, will have to look for that taste in our store! ” George announced and the sad moans automatically turned into happy faces.

“That's right! We believe that very soon, our store will have a physical point and will be 100% prepared to serve all of you little pests! ” Fred said laughing and started handing out the invitations.

The invitations were not common, as nothing the twins did was common, no one was surprised, just curious. They were orange sweets in the shape of mini pumpkins.

“But is this sweet? How should we know where and when to go with a sweet? ” Ron asked as soon as George handed him one of the pumpkins.

"I suggest taking a bite, little brother," Fred said mockingly, handing one to Y/n. "I made this one especially for you" And winked at the girl. Hers was Y/F/C , your favorite color. As soon as the girl saw the candy she smiled at Fred and got a little flushed.

As soon as Ron took a bite of the fearful candy, sparkles that resembled fireworks with a date, time and place emerged from the pumpkin.

"We just suggest that you don't eat it whole, eating the other piece makes you invisible for 15 minutes, so you can go to the party without drawing unnecessary attention" Fred said with a smile on his face, proud of what he had done.

It was amazing how these boys were the life of the party wherever they went. Y/n smile so proudly for the boys. After the euphoria of delivery of the pumpkins, the boys sat on the sofa with only a few students in the room, most of had already gone to sleep. Y/n was in an armchair by the fireplace, reading a book. Fred settled on the floor in front of the girl and rested his head on her knees. George sat next to Lee on the couch.

"Okay, now that we have everything set up, what will your fantasy be?" George asked to his friends.

"I was thinking of going as a werewolf" Lee replied playing with the hem of his shirt.

"What a cliché, Lee" Hermione who was finishing up her homework said from across the room. She, Harry and Ron were actually finishing up their homework. But everyone knew that the boys were just waiting for Hermione to finish copying hers.

"You're right, he should go as you Hermione, who knows, maybe someone will put limits on this party?" Ron replied laughing, immediately regretting because of Hermione's furious reaction.

"And what are you going to be dressed up for?" Y/n asked lowering the book, she had stopped paying attention long ago.

"Us? Secret too" Fred replied to the girl.

"You guys are getting unbearable with this, you know?" Y/n said looking at the twins.

"Just noticed now?" Lee said sarcastically.

Y/n snorted angrily and pulled her legs up so that Fred could no longer lean on them, causing the boy to turn his head to her laughing.

"You look so beautiful when you're mad" He said and stood up and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's past time for us to go to sleep, we need energy to organize what comes tomorrow, Georgie"

George got up too and agreed with his brother, so the two went up to the dorm wishing everybody a good night.

"I'll see if I can get anything out of them before bed, good night, Y/n" Lee said and went after the twins.

Harry was already drooling at the table, Ron was almost, only Hermione was still focused. Y/n got up and headed for the girls' dorm.

"Good night, Mione" Y/n said.

"When are you two going to assume you have more than a friendship, Y/n?" Hermione asked before she went up. The girl laughed and shook her head.

"We are just friends"

The following days passed with Y/n listening to discussions to see what would be the fantasy of her friends. Lee really was a werewolf, Hermione was from an important witch that nobody really understood who was just that had something to do with defending giants, Ron was going as a auror, Harry as a quidditch player, and of course the fantasy of Fred and George it was still a secret.

At breakfast on the day of the party, everyone was euphoric. The whispers came not only from the Gryffindor table, but from all of them, even some Slytherins were excited.

And because she kept her head elsewhere, Y/n ended up forgetting to think about her fantasy. Then, taking advantage of having a visit to Hogsmade that day, she asked Hermione for help in choosing a costume. The girls went to each clothing store until they found the perfect costume. That was it, they thought. It perfectly matched Y/n's personality.

The hours passed and now it was only an hour before the twins' Halloween party. The girls in Y/n's room were euphoric. They had pirates, healers, vampires, it looked like a children's book in one room. Y/n was finishing her makeup and would already be ready to leave. The outfit she had chosen was nothing less than court jester. Not a dull court jester, according to Hermione, and here I quote her words, she was a “sexually desirable jester”. A colorful short dress, socks to the thighs one of each color, hair tied with colored ribbons and a cute clown makeup. It was perfect.

"You look perfect, Y/n!" Angelina said to the girl with colored ribbons in her hair.

"You too, Angie, wonderful by the way!" Y/n said to her friend that was dressed as a fairy.

The two then descended together, meeting several people in costume in the main hall. And in the sea of mummies and mermaids, Y/n spotted the werewolf she was looking for.

“Lee! Lee! ” The girl called and Lee turned to see her.

"Y/n ... Bloody hell woman, now I understand what Fred talks about so much" Lee replied looking Y/n up and down.

"What does Fred say?" Y/n asked frankly eyebrows.

"He keeps saying you have phenomenal thighs," Lee replied, staring at her legs.

“Hey! Lee! Eyes up here! ” Y/n responded making the boy automatically look embarrassed, but then laughing.

"Let's go then?" Lee asked Y/n and she nodded.

The two then ate all the pumpkin and automatically the picture of the fat woman opening, looked like a passage of ghosts, no one was seen, all you could hear were footsteps and some muffled laughter through the corridors.

Finally, after walking a lot trying to make a minimum of noise, they reached the precise room. The door opened and the legion of students entered the place. When Fred and George said it was going to be the best Halloween party this school has ever seen, they weren't kidding.

There were already some students in the room, but the decor was clear. They had colorful and noiseless fireworks shining on the ceiling tirelessly, they seemed bewitched to last all night. The smoke on the ground made it look like a swamp, you could barely see people's feet. The tables set with various sweets with different shapes and a large bowl with punch, certainly alcoholic. The walls decorated with purple and orange ribbons all over the place. Of course, cobwebs, skeletons and pumpkins were placed in every corner. The music was loud, but it was not heard outside, they had also bewitched it. The only strange thing was that Fred and George were not yet in place.

More and more people were arriving and none of the twins. Y/n was having fun with Lee and other friends, but missed the redheaded duo. While some students were kissing in a corner and others were stuffing themselves with food, Y/n was dancing with a glass in her hand, like there's no tomorrow. She moved her hips from side to side without caring if she was drawing too much attention. Tonight was really for that.

The only part of the place that no one had understood was the stairway in the corner of the room that led to a balcony and a small door that nobody could open. After a while, Y/n ignored the stairs, and suddenly after the girl's third glass, the door made sense. It had opened up and the music had turned down the volume. There they were, Fred and George came out of the door in the costume of Kings. Y/n laughed with them and stopped dancing, looking at the boys.

"Feel free, my subjects, the party is yours today!" Fred said raising his hands.

"And remember, if you are not going to party like us, you can leave" George added.

"And let the party really start!" Fred shouted and everyone shouted in agreement.

The twins then descended the stairs, as if they were true kings. Strangely, their fantasy matched the boys perfectly. Y/n after seeing that the boys were already enjoying the party normally, she took another sip of her drink and started dancing again.

The music playing was sensual, and it is clear that the girl, with the courage that the drink gave her, took advantage of the moment. She had wanted to do this for years, and the opportunity never came, but now? Last year, she was going to do what she wanted without fear.

Y/n started to dance to the music, as sensual as the beat of each note. She knew they had several pairs of eyes on her, but only one interested her. Then the girl turned to where Fred was and she couldn't be more pleased to see that he was looking at her like a dog is looking at a piece of meat, with pure desire. She then danced looking directly at him.

Fred couldn't hold on any longer, he dodged the crowd and came very close to Y/n, grabbed her waist tightly and without thinking, he kissed the girl. It was as if everyone in the room had disappeared. They were just there, Y/n and Fred. The girl returned the kiss at the same time her lips met, placing her hands on the boy's neck.

The two separated only because they were forced to breathe. Keeping foreheads glued together. Smiling broadly. And you can hear George and Lee in the background shouting "Finally!" "Just friends, my ass!" And things like that. But Fred and Y/n couldn't care less.

"So.. hm, I think we're not just friends after all, huh?" Fred says laughing still being very close to you.

"I don't think we ever were just friends"

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #fanfiction #Gryffindor #slytherin #x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #harry potter fanfiction #halloween #harry potter #a very harry potter halloween

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aseioh · 4 years ago

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Of Cakes and Late Celebrations

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be posted on Mother's day. But just like this fic, I got derailed and ended up being late. (picture taken from the internet)

It was Mother's day.

Or to be precise it will be Mother's day in 15 hours 25 minutes. It shouldn't be a problem for Alcina, she usually just buys something from the Duke to give to Mother Miranda.

Unfortunately, such a thing is not possible right now. The Duke was delayed with his routine arrival at the castle opening, something about a spooked horse and lycans trying to get a nibble.

Honestly she lost interest after the word delayed was spoken through the phone. How is she going to remedy this. The gift itself was one of the finest silk she was able to obtain, she was sure Mother would appreciate a new ritual robe.

This is bad. To show up without a gift on this special day. She was sure she would be made a mockery during the gathering. Whats worst was that fool Heisenberg would be the first to lead with his pathetic insults.

Just the thought made Alcina's blood boil.

”I should send Bela to switch that man's shampoo with dog shampoo. Although the man still smells like wet dog. No. I'll think of something more devious.“

But back to the matter at hand. It's almost Mother's day and she doesn’t have a gift. Taking a deep drag off her cigarette, she considers her dwindling options.

At western part of the village

Donna is also facing a similar problems.

"What do you mean you're not coming?! Where am I supposed to find a present at this hour?!" Angie's raspy voice filtered through the phone "do you know how hard it is to find a 1st edition book on occult and rituals."

"Apologies Miss Angie, but the horse spooked and the carriage suffered a broken wheel. Even if the servants manage to haul themselves your house to the Duke's location and back it would still be too late." The main servant said trying to sound as apologetic as he can come across.

"This would not do" Donna said finally in her normal voice.

Somewhere inside the Stronghold.

Karl Heisenberg was having a meltdown.

"YOU STUPID LYCANS! I GAVE YOU ONE JOB AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN DO IT RIGHT!!" Heisenberg paces around the small assembly hall. Ten Lycans looked very apologetic, although it was very hard to tell from their looks. One even lets out a soft whimper.

“I told you to stall The Duke for a while. I didn’t said to derail him completely. The man has a package for me, now how am I supposed to get it!?” Heisenberg seethes.

His plan was a simply one really. Stall The Duke so that he would arrive at Castle Dimitrescu late, that way Alcina would not get her package and present it to Mother Miranda. That would show her, a little payback for calling him a child.

What he didn’t count on was the utter incapability of the Lycans to follow simple directions. Now even he doesn’t have a gift. Oh Miranda’s gonna blow a gasket.

“Augh... I hate the consequences of my actions” He lamented

At Moreau’s Reservoir

“NOOOOOOO!! That’s not fair, that’s not fair!!!” Moreau starts throwing his stuff on the floor. He had finally saved up his money to buy Mother Miranda that nice jewelry that would go perfectly with her black wings.

“Someone’s gonna pay” He vows to take revenge on the Lycans responsible for his problem.

After all his pet fish has been hungry for some Lycan meat.

Castle Dimitrescu (13 hours until Mother’s day)

“I have gathered you here today for a very important meeting” Alcina starts looking at the sad (Donna) and tearful (Moreau) faces of her so called ‘siblings’. Heisenberg is surprisingly calm which puts Alcina on high alert, but lets it slide in favour of the more pressing matter

“We have a big problem. The Duke will not arrive on time for Mother’s Day. That means all the presents we bought for Mother will not arrive”

“We need a solution, any ideas?”

“We kill the Lycans responsible and feed them to my fish”

“Yes Moreau, but that’s after we solve this problem” Donna said and tries to placate a Moreau by patting him at the back.

“Whoa, that’s a bit dark but I like it. And Moreau is right, we’re gonna make fish food out of those Lycans” “Better off those basdards, after all I don’t want to implicate myself” Heisenberg thinks

“People, you’re missing the point here” Alcina says pinching her nose to ward off an incoming headache. “Listen, we don’t have time. You know Mother Miranda, She’ll say she wasn’t really expecting something and then low-key punishes us for missing the day. We don’t want a repeat of the 1967 incident do we?”

Moreau whimpers from the trauma.

Donna goes into a slight trance and starts to shake.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough” Heisenberg stands. “Why don’t we just bake something and say it’s from all of us”

*beat*

“Do you know how to bake?”

“I work at the Factory, I make steel molds for a living how hard could it be?”

“That doesn’t answer my question Heisenberg”

“We could make a small doll” Donna pipes up

“Sorry Donna that would still take time. And I don’t think we have the right materials on such short notice.” Alcina says

“For someone who’s looking for a solution you sure are shooting down all of them”

“Because it’s not feasible Heisenberg.” Alcina huffs “Can you gather all the materials in less than 10 hours? No? Of course not”

“And I keep telling you just BAKE A CAKE!”

“I don’t know how to bake, child! I’m a BLOODY COUNTESS not hired help” Alcina bellows at Heisenberg

“I know how to bake”

Everyone turns to Donna.

“Really?”

“Of course, I used to watch my Mother bake cakes before the accident. I just need help decorating. I never got a hang of that part” Donna beams with pride as she explains the basics of baking

“And we can gather the ingredients no problem. You have a pantry here somewhere right Alcina?” Moreau asked

“Of course. We always have a full pantry for the servants.” At that Heisenberg looks at Alcina with a hint of disbelief

“What? We need them healthy to serve us. I’m not a complete monster.” Alcina defends

“In any case we should start early. It takes time to cool and decorating is hard”

Castle Kitchen (12 hours 30 minutes before Mother’s Day)

It was truly a sight to see. In a way it was enough for the Castle’s servants to wet themselves in fear when they saw the 4 Lords gathered at the kitchen in various forms of concentration. Needless to say, everyone was warned to steer clear of the kitchen for now.

Moreau was together with Donna supporting her with mixing the wet ingredients. Meanwhile, at the other side of the cooking station Alcina and Heisenberg are charge of measuring out the dry ingredients.

“You need to be precise, don’t put too much. Remember what Donna said and look at the damn recipe”

“I know what I’m doing you damn woman. I’m all about precision. Why don’t you move away and get that mixing bowl at the top shelf.” Heisenberg grouched

“I’m not your servant. And I certainly will not start fetching stuff for you” Alcina shot back

“Alcina, we need to work together. We don’t have time and you’re the tallest of us all. Please cooperate with Karl just this once. Please?” Donna implored

“Once. I’m helping him for this one time only. When I get my hands on the Lycan responsible for this problem, I’m gutting him and throwing him at Moreau’s reservoir.” At Donna’s admonishment of Alcina, Heisenberg gives a shit eating grin, showing some rather very pointy canines.

“And Heisenberg, stop provoking Alcina.” Donna adds

“Fine, you’re no fun Donna”

Suffice to say, the baking went well. Who knew that the 4 Lords working together would be a great success? If only Mother Miranda saw her children working together peacefully she might have had a heart attack and thought that she suffered one as well.

Or she might have been dreaming.

Castle Kitchen (6 hours before Mother’s Day)

“Alright, the cake has cooled down completely, So what color will be the icing?” Donna asked

“Yellow” “Cream” “Light Blue” the other three said simultaneously.

*beat*

“Light blue? Really? Not everything needs to be manly Heisenberg”

“And not everything needs to be boring like your color, Alcina”

“It should be yellow, like Mother’s sunny smile” Moreau explains

“And in which ever universe has Mother ever smiled like the sun?” Heisenberg counters Moreau

“Hey now. No need for that tone!”

“Tsk, sorry Moreau” Heisenberg apologizes to a quiet Moreau

“Fine, let’s do pastel yellow it’s easier for the eyes anyway” Donna supplies, getting ready to start coating the cake with the yellow cream

Inside the Sanctuary

“Happy Mother’s day”

“We hope you like the cake Mother”

“Yes, we poured out our love in baking it. I hope you appreciate it” Heisenberg said

“Why thank you loves. This is a wonderful surprise. And Moreau said that you all worked together in baking it. How wonderful!” Mother Miranda said grateful for once that her children worked together without collateral damage (that she knew of).

“Although Heisenberg, I heard something interesting from Urias” Mother Miranda looks pointedly at Heisenberg, who for some reason starts to sweat and turn pale.

‘oh shit’ “Really Mother? Good news I hope” Heisenberg tries to bluff his way out.

“Why it was quite peculiar really. He said that you got 10 of his Lycans for a special project. I wasn’t aware that you have some side projects”

The 3 Lords turn to Heisenberg

“Wait what?”

“I KNEW IT!!” Alcina unsheathes her claws

“You’re responsible for this mess in the first place!!”

“Really guy relax, if anything I just proved that we need more than one traveling merchant in the village for a successful and on time delivery” Heisenberg starts to carefully ease his way to the nearest exit.

“GET HIM”

In the end, Alcina was more than ready to feed Heisenberg to Moreau’s pet fish. Only Donna stopped her, citing Moreau would probably be inconsolable if his pet got indigestion from all the metal.

And that is how Heisenberg saw himself in doggy jail for a week along with his Lycan cohorts. Mother Miranda did get her Mother’s day gifts from her children although a bit later than expected.

And the cake?

The cake was surprisingly delicious.

#resident evil village #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #Late Mother's day fic #in which the 4 lords learn to cooperate for their own good #because no one wants to be in Mother Miranda's bad side

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meganwritesfanfics · 3 years ago

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Buried Nightmares (Jack Hodgins x Reader) Part 3

Ever since he and Dr. Brennen had been kidnapped by the Gravedigger, Jack Hodgins had nightmares, nightmares about being buried alive again, nightmares about suffocating, nightmares about being utterly alone. Never in those nightmares did he imagine the love of his life being in danger. The Gravedigger is about to change that. When the reader is kidnapped, the team at the Jeffersonian must race against the clock to save her, before she become another one of the Gravedigger’s victims.

Part 3 of ?

Part 1 Part 2

“You are kidding me!” Hodgins screamed as he sat in the back seat of Booth's car. Hodgins, Brennen and Booth were on their way to the Port of Baltimore, after Booth had made a few phone calls to try to narrow down where they should be looking. “What do you mean it is going to take a couple of hours?”

“There are a lot of shipping containers that come in and out of the port on a daily basis, so there are a lot of files they have to check.” Booth insisted as he looked over to Brennen to help in the situation.

“Statistically it is impossible that we will find Y/N before she runs out of air or before the container gets too hot and she ends up dying of a heat stroke.” Brennen responded.

“Bones!” Booth screamed as Hodgins looked at her in horror.

“I’m sorry, I just... “ Brennen started tears in her eyes. She didn’t mean to be so cold, but she like Hodgins was terrified and frustrated.

“We are going to find her Hodgins, Angela is working on the phone call to see if there is anything in the background that can help us locate her more easily. But until then you cannot give up hope, ok.” Booth soothed and Hodgins just nodded. Then he sat back, being quiet for the rest of the trip. He was wracking his brain trying to figure out anything that could be a clue to lead them to Y/N.

“Help!” Y/N screamed as she pounded on the door of the shipping container. It had only been what she assumed was about an hour since she had gotten off the phone with Hodgins, and yet it felt like the temperature had risen fifty degrees. “Help!” She called again but her voice was already starting to go hoarse from screaming so much. “Shit!” She screamed as she hit the door hard, hurting her hand before she slid to the ground. “This can’t be it, I don’t want to die like this,” She cried as she slipped off her shirt trying to cool herself down. For a moment Y/N thought about just laying down and giving up, the odds of Hodgins finding her in time, were getting smaller and smaller with every minute that past. “No, don’t think like that, he survived and came back to you, you have to fight for him.” She said pushing herself to her feet. She walked over to the car, she quickly threw open all of the doors, trying her best with what little light she had from the car lights to see what was in there.

Digging through her school bag she found some random papers and pencils, as well as a half empty water bottle. Quickly she grabbed it taking a very small drink before sealing it back up. Every part of her wanted to pour it on herself just to get some relief from the heat, but she knew how wasteful that would be.

She gave herself a moment to rest, looking around the container for anything that could help her escape. That was when she thought of it. Looking at the car, she came upon the idea. “God, I’m such a idiot!” She exclaimed, as she made her way back to the smashed window. Slowly and carefully she crawled her way through the window, wincing as some of the broken glass caught her skin. As soon as she was settled in she made quick work of ripping the plastic part off from under the dash. The one thing her no good deadbeat father had taught her before abandoning her family, was how to hot wire a car. As she sat holding the wires in her hands, she sighed. She knew that if this didn’t work, she would be stuck in an airtight container, that would be filling up with carbon monoxide fumes and would kill her quicker than the heat would.

With that in mind. She stopped making her way out of the car once again, she needed to make sure that there was nothing in her way to stop it. If this was going to work, it had to work in one shot.

On her way out of the window her clothes got caught on the broken glass and she fell, landing hard on the ground. She let out a scream as her wrist snapped as she tried to stop her fall. As she carefully lifted herself up off the ground she looked up and saw something that caused her to cry again. The tires were chained into the shipping container.

Hodgins’ leg was bouncing up and down restlessly, the trip to the port, which usually would have taken almost an hour, was only going to take about 30 minutes with how fast Booth was driving, but to Hodgins it still felt like an eternity.

“Shit!” Booth screamed as he slammed his hand on the steering wheel as he threw his phone.

“What, what is it!” Hodgins screamed panicking.

“Over 200 containers have been dropped off in the last 24 hours that contain cars.” Booth sighed.

“200, Booth, who knows how long she’s been in there already. There has to be something else to narrow it down.” Hodgins voice cracked.

“Don’t worry Hodgins Angela can find something, she was already close to finding a more narrowed location before we left. It can’t be much longer.” Bones replied, but there was no hope in her voice, just despair.

“Can we call her again, to check, please.” Hodgins begged. They only had about 5 minutes left until they got to the port, but he couldn’t sit in that car any longer doing nothing.

“Hodgins I’m sure Angela will call as soon as she…” Booth started.

“Please Booth, I’m losing my mind back here, I can’t just sit around anymore.”

“Angela,” Brennen said as she had called her while the boys were arguing.

“I haven’t got anything too substantial, unfortunately. But I did enhance the background noise, and it sounds like she must be pretty close to the water. From what I can determine less than 100 yards. If that helps at all.” Angela said. “I’m working on getting it narrowed down further. I’m sorry I don’t have more Jack.”

“No Angie, that’s great, that’s amazing, we can see how many car deliveries are stored close to the water.” Jack said. “Right Booth?”

“I’m on it?” Booth replied.

“Thank you Angie.”

“We will find her Jack, we will.” Angela replied.

“Damn-it,” Y/N cried as her tears fell from her face landing on the paper she had in her lap, smearing the ink. She was running out of options, and she was running out of time. Her breathing was becoming more labored. And the heat was getting almost unbearable. She knew that Hodgins and the others would find her eventually. But it would be far too late. So she had to say goodbye.

#bones imagine #Jack Hodgins #hodgins x reader #Bones #imagine #fanfiction

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assim-eu-sou · 2 years ago

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Siempre Fui Yo Liveblogs: Capítulo 3

I’m gonna try not to forget what that tattoo looks like

Finally, she finds this paper… I had almost forgotten it

We’re all reading the same article right now ig

Another paper lost to the floor from distraction… what will this one say?

Love that Angie has her practice pad just carabiner-ed to her shorts

The girls [Lumina] are fightinggggg

So the paper was a song of her father’s

Yo voy a escribirrrrrrrrrrrrr la canción más bonita del mundoooooo

Ok girl how can you know the melody from only a sheet of lyrics

She sounds good tho :)

See this is what I’m talking about…. we need the acoustic version

Noah, I have to say I disagree with your “let’s not practice” approach

LMAO Lupe calling Noah cringe

Maestra Lupe removing phones from the equation

It’s so good acoustic??? Besties (Disney production people) sometimes less is more

Clearly Sammy has gone rogue

They don’t even look like they’re in the same band… social distancing lmao

I mean it’s the same thing every performance, at some point the nerves are gonna stop being a surprise at least

I know she’s grieving though

Here’s that ominous tattoo again

Kevin is Not Pleased

Here come the Cami twins

Angie says we NEED to support Lupe

Mercedes has now stolen The Guitar

What’s with all the paper boats anyway…

Everyone is so casual about her being the daughter of El Faraón

Them vamping for Lupe is making me anxious, girl get up there

GIRLLLLL YOU DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS

Stressing me OUT

I wanna smack all these men

Her delivery was too good in this scene

LMAO SHE’S BETTING HIS CAR

Lupe and Noah should be kicked out for them having to reschedule the whole thing

Lupeeee what are you doing

Idk she’s grating on me sometimes but she’s particularly cute this episode even then… pinche pretty privilege

RUN FASTERRRRRRR

Lupe said I WILL cause problems on purpose

They better watch their backs after that

They should’ve just surrendered the keys lmaooo keeping the car is more trouble than it’s worth

Just sleeping in the car…

Lupe desaparecida

Jk but also the competition people probably think they got kidnapped

Insuporrrrrrtable

Meaningful Eye Contact

No es tan Disney, eh?

And so the enemies to lovers have been speed-run

However, I’m imagining Lutteo-esque annoying the crap out of each other and breaking up multiple times before they end up together if this was a longer show

Lupe, your life is in danger.

Ok that’s super chill.

#siempre fui yo #siempre fui yo lb

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years ago

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Hug-o-gram Preview | Yoongi

→ summary:

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending “hugs” to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to *o*e him, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: anticipated 10-12K → a/n: who the fuck am i... why am i writing so much??? let’s all thank miss kwaranteen for that, my friends. but what’s with the fluff, you ask? thank miss @jincherie for that because her weak heart can’t handle angst so i have to use my limited fluff muscles to write this for her... anyway idk when this is coming out but its probs soon,, enjoy this lil snippet i guess LMAO

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbow. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

#btsghostie #my wips #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts reader insert #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi imagines #IM SO SICK @ MYSELF THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUCKING SOFT #ITS LIKE I HAVE SPLIT PERSONALITY DISORDER #FLUFF THIS! SMUT THAT! WHERE IS MY ANGST #[dialtone noises] the number u have dialed is no longer in service... zee machine broke

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datawyrms · 5 years ago

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what if i really liked @chibigaia-art mastermind Kiibo Au comic too much and wrote a thing. hahaha. unless...

On A03 (Which has formatting I have not translated to here.)

It was the scream that jerked him into action, throwing open his door to an empty central area. It had sounded like Tenko, but no sign of her or a struggle was here. It had sounded so close, almost right in his head, how could he be too late to help anyone? His inner voice seemed to be taking it worse than he was, though it was oddly muddled and muted, not the clear declaration it usually was, Disappointing he could understand, but boring? Someone could be in trouble and the voice only wanted to express that it was not interesting enough, or too short? He had to do something, yet the room seemed as muddled as his thoughts. The robot had to close his eyes, clutching at his head to try and wait out the disorientation.

The mastermind was dead.

Rantaro had done what he had set out to accomplish. End the killing game. Tsumugi Shirogane was a lifeless corpse, head cracked open by the very weapon she had intended to use. This was a good thing, mostly. Killing was wrong, but understandable considering she had been the one putting them all through this strange killing game. Yet this was also the worst thing? It was boring, it was too soon, it was a lame cop out. It could not end here. Rantaro had to pay for his crime, and then the game would continue as planned. He didn’t want that? He did? The voices did. How did he know any of this? The voices demanded more. The show must go on. Kiibo did not want it to continue. He could manage to wrangle that thought out as his own opinion, though his certainty wavered with every new declaration of annoyance. Ignoring or denying the voice did nothing but dump even more feedback, disappointment, anger, even hatred. Too much to sort through. He? They? Demanded he act. The show MUST go on. He knew the mastermind was dead, as he had seen the body. From a camera he was unaware of, oblivious to, reporting to him. It liked that it could transmit directly to him, now that his connection to the entire network had been restored. The voices. The audience. Only here for their own amusement. He was a puppet for them to play with. You exist to entertain. That is your only purpose. That is why you were built. His hands drop, fingers still half curled into fists. His memories contradicted this. His memories were false. If the game continues, the voices will be pleased. The only reason he exists is to make them happy. Rantaro will be ‘wrong’ about Tsumugi’s identity as the mastermind, and they will have a whole new mystery to solve. Didn’t he want to be more than that? To be like the others, like his friends? A person? He never wanted anything Tsumugi Shirogane had not put in his head first. He was a machine, not a real person. Didn’t he want to go off script? Be something meaningful?

THE SHOW MUST GO ON.

The other voices quieted, locked away from influencing him as his left eye opened and switched, a red haze overlaying the room, revealing the resources he had control over and commands he could make. The voices could not be allowed to see who the new mastermind was, after all. Monokuma asked the question, still hearing it in the bear’s voice even as only a message read in his head. So what’s the plan, boss? This was wrong. He didn’t want this. Yet the information Team DanganRonpa had dumped in his hard drive made one thing very clear. As their robot, he did not really have much of a choice in the matter. Either he did it now, himself, or he could be reset back to default and do it anyway. At least as himself, he might be able to tone down the brutality? Make the body discovery announcement.

The horrified gasps that come from his classmates, his friends, his enemies is both discomforting and thrilling. He had caused that. He had meant something to all of them, in that brief moment. He dropped his connection to Motherkuma and the rest of the mastermind resources, Monokuma’s AI knew how to prep for a class trial without any input from him. That, and if he mentioned overhearing something he had no logical way to hear, the mystery of if there was a backup mastermind would be solved too quickly. The voices returned as his eye snapped back to the normal blue hue, back to the more consistent singular idea at any given moment. Go and see what happened. They were excited, surprised, pleased. At least obeying that command did not feel as much like a betrayal.

Rantaro had the sense to admit he had killed Tsumugi when the entire class had gathered and the bears asked who would claim the first blood perk. After all, everyone already knew he had done it. Monokuma had a lot of fun with it, mocking everyone for even thinking there was a mastermind. Did they all like thinking Rantaro totally had a good reason and wasn’t just using this ‘mastermind’ excuse to look better in their eyes before he left? Ryoma had been incensed, raising his voice as he asked Rantaro why he had killed her, after he had already offered to die instead if he just wanted out. Honestly, he did not have to meddle much. Monokuma and the kubs did more than enough to spark tension and throw doubt that a mastermind existed. After all, Kiibo could act on his own, who said they couldn’t? Who said there had to be someone behind it? He’d been properly offended, his anger genuine. “I am nothing like you!” He was exactly like them, and he hated it. He spared the others from knowing ‘leaving’ was getting to see the airless 'outside world', ordering Monokuma to cut the feed once the door was open to maintain the surprise. It was too early for them to know of the devastated 'world' outside. It was too painful to watch the one who managed to end the killing game try to scrabble back to life giving air, only to be denied by a savage kick from the Exisals. For him to die thinking he had been wrong, mistaken, possibly killed an innocent... It was unfair. Yet this is what they all wanted. So the ‘Ultimate Survivor’ suffocated alone, the others still getting to have the hope that Rantaro would get word out. A peek outside would be all the crueler with his rotting corpse on display, hands outstretched to a worthless, meaningless hope.

Even though the Monokubs managed to mess up the motive delivery, he did not need to act as the mastermind. Kirumi getting her own video had sufficed to get desire to kill in the air, no matter how hard Kaede tried to get the group to stick together and ignore the videos. Kokichi had been a major help in making sure Ryoma had seen his own video with his viewing party scheme, while also being an active antagonist during the trial. He may ultimately have led them to the right conclusion, but it was unlikely anyone else would notice it off hand. So this was how Tsumugi intended to remain in the shadows. Who would suspect her when there was this relentless troublemaker front and center? Who would notice that she wasn’t actively participating that often, or only parroting things someone else said first? He had it just as easy. After all, his existence was a joke. Robots aren’t people, unfortunately for all of them. He wanted to be one, but that was the punchline. No wonder all of them ignored any upset responses he made to such comments. It was like being offended about the sky being blue. Being mad at reality, at something that was not going to change. None of them would still be in this game if he could truly be a person. Kaede managed to help Shuichi let go of his need to hide behind his cap, to face the reality that Kirumi had killed Ryoma, and died for it. That Maki was indeed an assassin and hid it. It struck him as somewhat cruel to force the timid detective to face the truth head on. There were no kind truths to be found here. Deflecting it, embracing the lie that escape was possible would be kinder. Though they may die before they learned that truth.

Korekiyo’s actions made him question if a mastermind was even needed to keep this game active. Beyond choosing when the motive should go out, he got to play student. The sheer irony of the mastermind being in Angie’s Student Council didn’t escape him. Any harmony brought through her actions he’d be obligated to break, but it was nice to be wanted for something that wasn’t reprehensible for a change. The voices usually voted in favour of spending time with the others, which was always difficult. Kiibo wanted to be their friends, to help them. On some level he did still care for them, wanted their approval, hungered for it as if it would make him more human. That may be why none of them realized he was lying to them. He could almost forget he was the monster behind the curtain while the sun was up, averting his eyes as Kaito tried to hide his illness. A nasty little virus that he had delivered to the astronaut, making sure morale would drop near the ending stretch. Yet he dared to try and be their friends? Blaming the voices would be easier, and he did nothing but lie these days, what was one more to himself? Would any of them actually believe the pain he expressed learning of each death was genuine? That he pitied them and mourned the loss? The executions made him doubtful. Anyone creating such painful deaths clearly did not care for anything but the spectacle and misery. Shelve those false friendships, remember what you are. The blood of four people is on your hands.

Miu’s death shatters that flimsy pretense. The only one who saw a machine as worth knowing, saw it as a positive instead of a detriment was dead. The last flashback light had been too much, it had pushed her over an edge and he could never take that back. A few of the students seemed to notice she was off, but did not press. Her fevered work to modify the VR program to cover her tracks was precise, careful. Her tracks would be covered, her target would die, and then the rest would fall shortly after. He could step in, try and talk her down from this murder plot. If he was a friend. If he could explain how he'd found out. He couldn't. So he let Monokuma take Kokichi’s deal, thinking he had a plan to protect himself from Miu’s plot. He had managed to figure it out without the help of being to see everywhere, after all. He had been right, Kokichi did have a plan, said plan involved killing her. Of course it had, anything the mastermind had a cold hand in would lead to death. It had been a stupid hope, thinking it might have kept both of them alive a little bit longer. (He needed her to build things, they’d been getting along okay, did the answer have to be death?) Kokichi reveled in the negative attention, drawing all eyes to him. It was all lies, but everyone seemed to buy his declaration. Couldn’t they see his smile was a bit fixed, that he barely stopped to breathe as he ‘gloated’ about being better than them, how he felt nothing for Gonta? That wasn’t joy, it was hysteria. This was a ploy, but what he intended to accomplish with it, the robot couldn’t understand. Maybe he would have fallen for it if he couldn't see how the boy trembled while hidden and alone. So he kept his hands off and ‘hated’ the smaller boy with the rest.

Having someone play at being the mastermind and locking down all his firepower had been unexpected. It was bold, to try and flush out the true mastermind like this. Kokichi had almost slipped when Himiko pointed out Rantaro’s corpse, but managed to keep up the farce. The motive card had only shown the video after all, and Tsumugi had made that before the grisly new addition to the scene. Even Kaede’s endless optimism faltered with Kaito a coughing, bleeding hostage to insure their good behaviour. Shuichi was left to keep Maki back on his own, having to point out they had to be careful to save Kaito later. Really, the ploy was genius. Bore the mastermind into action and catch them. It wasn’t as if Kokichi could account for his ability to fabricate new flashback lights on a whim. He clutched the new flashback light for a long time, the urge to simply smash it and let the voices be bored was incredibly strong. A pointless sentiment. At least it was almost funny that he had to fall back on his original purpose, to be a bringer of hope in order to get the murder everyone wanted.

Managing to blank out all the cameras and hiding the survivor in an Exisal to obscure the killer and victim was exciting in a way. If he lost like this, if Monokuma could not know the facts of the case, the game may truly end. That would be fine by him. Shuichi was simply too much of a seeker of truth to realize they should be taking the offered lie and running with it, to let it rest when he could only guess who was inside that red Exisal. Instead the detective worked with him, helped Monokuma determine the reality of the case. Only when it was too late did he realize handing the mastermind the answer was a mistake. How much courage had it taken to wait under a slow crushing death? How much had Kaito needed to even press that button? If the voices truly pitied those who died, why were they here? They wanted to help, to push through. This was only happening for their sake! Kiibo may have let a bit slip there by admitting to Kaito that he believed the final words Kokichi had said to the astronaut were true, but none of the others questioned the robot. Kaito’s death was a little more pressing than the passing words of some silly blue eyed machine. Monokuma may not have been thrilled with Kaito dying before his execution was finished, but he didn’t care. The flying debris that almost hurt the others was more concerning. Was it foolish to help people that you had been tormenting and killing the entire time? Yes. Still, it felt better to do so. He was going to need to head to his lab for a quick fix, perhaps he could excuse himself from the final exploration that way. They would all know the truth soon, the voices would have their ending, and they would all despise him. At least it would be over.

Monokuma was happy to tell the students they had to determine the future of the gopher project and set them loose to explore the remaining hidden rooms and the planted clues, only Rantaro’s room remaining locked. The classic hope and despair final vote, either a risky trip back to space, discovering a new place to live, or simply give up and let the human race die here in safety. Not that there were enough people to even try and continue the human race with the chosen settings, but that would be for the post show nitpickers, his friend victims would not likely think that far ahead. From what he could tell they had already dismissed the possibility of Kaede having a twin as false. (Which was fine, it wasn't like he made for a convincing twin. He probably should have just tossed it.) He would argue that they all stay here, regardless of if they chose to discover who the mastermind was or not. That was his job now. Did he want them to find the whole truth? No. Yet he would give it to them if they pushed. When Shuichi expressed his belief in Kokichi, that his mastermind plot had been for a reason, the robot could only sigh. Why couldn’t he believe in him by just taking the lie?

His grip tightened on the stand as the conversation returned to the mastermind. Maki, too sensible, too logical.

“We can’t vote on something like this if the mastermind is among us, this whole ‘trial’ is pointless.”

“Didn’t Rantaro just make that up? Not that it mattered..."

“No, Shuichi thought there was one too. There was no reason to have a hidden door like that if there wasn’t someone hiding among us, remember?” Kaede shook her head at Himiko’s question, brow wrinkled as she pondered.

“Did we ever see it get used? It could be a false door?” Kiibo offered, struggling to keep the resignation out of his voice. They never found the card before he swiped it from Tsumugi's room.

“We got to go in there while you were gone.” the detective clarified. “It definitely isn’t fake. What I don’t get is why Monokuma wants to push some stay or go vote now. To protect the mastermind from being discovered? Kokichi must have realized something to put a target on his back like that.”

“So we just need to figure out who the mastermind is, get the answer out of them and go from there,” Maki gave everyone a sharp glare, only Shuichi managed to keep from flinching.

“Um.” Kaede stopped looking down, looking more upset than confident. “Tsumugi absolutely was the mastermind, right Shuichi?”

He nodded stiffly, averting his eyes. “The secret passage, the fact she managed to get there completely unseen, there’s no doubt she was the mastermind.”

Kaede was looking at him now. She knew. It was practically written on her face. The confusion, the betrayal was painful even if he deserved far more than that for this. “Could it be? Kiibo are you...the mastermind?”

He still had to try to dissuade her. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Think about it, there’s no other option!” she leaned forward, intent on getting the answer. “Rantaro killed Tsumugi and yet the killing game didn’t end! And all the clues point to you!”

Right again. “But! I can’t hurt human beings!” he sputtered, trying to think of a reason. “It’s not in my original programming-”

Shuichi pounced on that slip like lightning. “‘Original programming?’” the detective saw how he froze. “Does that mean...something was changed?”

Kiibo keeps his face still, not even looking at the detective. Yes. Please don’t push. Please don’t realize it doesn’t make sense for him to be changed if Tsumugi is dead and the human race is gone. Just let the lie stay.

Shuichi continued his questioning in spite of the stillness. “Were you infected by a virus?” If only. “Was your AI overwritten with something?”

He wasn’t going to be able to deny this. The voices were getting noisy again with the ‘twist’ that they had been watching from the Mastermind’s eyes the whole time. “The show has to go on.” his tone was flat, trying to ignore their reactions. “That’s what my inner voice...no. That’s what the voices told me…” It wouldn’t make this better, but he felt the need to explain. Was it pity mixing with the disgust on their faces? He clenched a fist. “...but you can’t have a killing game without despair.” The voices of the audience were silenced as he dropped his disguise as a student and tried to meet the four’s eyes as the mastermind. “The moment Tsumugi Shirogane drew her last breath I was no longer the ‘Ultimate Hope’” They were avoiding the gaze of his red eye, but he kept firm. They wanted a mastermind, to know the whole truth. So he would deliver. “Your deductions are correct. I’m the backup mastermind of this killing game.”

“Why? How could you-” Himiko still couldn’t look at him head on, but her voice was strong enough.

He laughed, needing to grip the podium to keep stable. “Why? I said why!” It was almost funny how no one listened, even when he admitted to being a complete monster. “Ask Kaede, or your detective! You know, don’t you?”

“You said this was a show.” Shuichi was hesitating, hands reaching for a hat that was no longer there. “So that means-”

“Every flashback light was fake.” Maki finished, regaining her composure faster than the others. She had managed to turn that confusion into proper hatred now. “Made up for someone else’s amusement.”

“Correct. You’re all as fake as I am.” his shrug was dismissive. It would be easier if they simply hated him and moved on with their lives after this, but the world wouldn’t accept an ending where they didn’t overcome despair. “There is no Gopher Project, there is no Ultimate Hunt and all your memories are fabrications. I set you all up. You died as entertainment,” he kept the red eye turned towards Maki as he tried goading her “Kaito really should have been more careful about what he ate.”

The absolute fury in her clenched teeth and stiff posture said more than any words. Yet Kaede stepped in, trying to get the assassins attention. “Revenge isn’t what Kaito wanted, Maki. Just hold on.”

“So these voices are-”

“The audience. The real world. My creator, and yours.” The robot snapped his fingers, letting the comments of those watching fill the screens that surrounded the courtroom. “The world might as well be over for all of you. You don’t belong there. Nothing you recall, no one you know exists. There are only these people. Who see you as entertaining toys.”

“No one else here is a robot! No one made us!” Himikio’s denial was honestly surprising.

“I suppose you can think that, if it makes you happy. The fact hundreds of thousands of people watched me have you slaughter one another and did not lift a finger to help you remains the truth,” he glanced at the screens. They liked watching his ‘friends’ be crushed. “I just gave them what they wanted. What they demanded.” The humans kept silent for a time, discomfort clear as they watched the casual words drift by. Realizing you were just a prop was likely harder for those of flesh and blood, judging by how they paled.

“So you’re a coward.”

He tilted his head at Maki’s spat words “More of an idiot than a coward. But yes.”

“You could have stopped all of this, but you didn’t.”

“Do you honestly think I wanted this?” Anger slipped into his voice as his shoulders hunched. “How did you put it, Himiko? A robot is useful by blowing itself up, I think? If that’s what you do with a useful one, what will a human do to a useless one?”

She shied back from his question, prior bravery apparently gone. That, or she knew the answer perfectly well. They would do whatever they wanted, a robot was just a tool.

“Then you should have died!”

“You’d still be here, having this conversation!” he glared at Maki, frustrated that she didn’t notice the obvious problem. “It would just be a slightly different version of me. One that never gave a single care for any of you. They talk in my head, you can’t honestly think they can’t just control me!”

“You never had a choice.” Kaede’s words cut deeper than any of Maki’s, even without the accusatory tone. She pitied him. After all of this, she still felt bad for some machine. “Did you stay to protect us?”

Why did she care? He’d failed! He didn’t even manage to let their game end without exposing all the mysteries they tried to solve were pointless window dressing for them to play with as they got on with killing each other. “No. I just wanted to live, as Maki said. We are not friends.” Friends did not kill friends. Friends did not notice a murder plan and just watch it happen. He didn’t deserve to feel anything about them.

“So why did you mention your ‘old’ title?” Shuichi prompted, looking distracted.

“I’m not very good at dramatics, but hope being twisted into despair is rather impactful.” At least, he thought it might have been. “We’re getting off topic. I have told you the reality that awaits you,” he paused to gesture as the scrolling comments, the constant refrains of loving to see them in pain clear as day. “That world that has used you is all that awaits you. You can choose to leave, to insist you can face it and deal with the consequences. Being closer to them will not make them see you as people with thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams. After all, they had a first person view all this time, and still they say these things,” his disgust was genuine. He probably should have covered it better with disinterest.

“A first person view?” Himiko was shaking a little, keeping her hat tipped down to avoid reading anymore.

“They could see through my eyes when I was fooling you. That was my original purpose...Rantaro just made the need for a backup plan rather urgent,” his shrug was stiff, unable to act completely at ease. “This is how they act towards people like you. They were your friend, and could tell me how to act before this. This is how they treat people they like. Do you really want to go out there?”

The magician seemed to crumble in on herself, completely silent in the face of that reality. So she was not his replacement. Maki was too angry...would it be Kaede or Shuichi that led the rest to the end despite it all? Or perhaps he would be the one to ‘win’. It was likely only his original programming speaking, but he still didn’t really want despair to win.

“Or you simply choose to stay here. It may be a killing game, but you know who’s behind it now, and have no reason to want to escape. It would be relatively peaceful, with no one watching. You could pretend everything was normal.” He offered the second option as the silence stretched on, watching for reactions. “Hope and leave. Despair and stay. That’s all there is to it.” Nothing. Tsumugi likely would have been gloating at this point, or at least trying to goad for a reaction. Though it wasn’t as if Team DanganRonpa could complain, he wasn’t made for this, in the most literal sense.

"Does it really matter what the people watching think of us? The world is a big place," her voice strengthened as she went on, trying to catch her friend's eyes. "We're still real, no matter what they did to us. We all know that!"

Shuichi leaned over, whispering something to Kaede. What reason would there be to whisper now? Whatever he said had cheered her up somewhat, straightening while nodding at the detective.

“You said the voices could tell you how to act Kiibo. Does that mean right now, they can't?”

Shuichi’s question threw him. “The audience cannot speak to me while I’m like this. It would have exposed who the mastermind was if they could.” He covered the eye with his palm, ignoring the discomfort warning him from touching the lens with metal. “The ones in charge still can.”

“Don’t they just want an ending? Who says it needs to be their choices?” Kaede added, somehow still managing to smile.

“...That is how this works. The mastermind acts for despair, and the rest of you attempt to overcome that for hope. You pick one or the other and it ends. There are not any other choices to make.” he looked down at his hand, puzzlement prompting him to try and focus. Had he missed something? "That is why we were made, to act out their story."

“...bet there’s some dumb catch for the good side though to make the bad end look good.” Himiko mumbled, roused somewhat by the confidence the detective and pianist were showing.

“Hope does ask for two sacrifices, but you all seemed so put out it didn’t seem worth mentioning.”

“Well you keep mentioning ‘hope’. You already said the mastermind is the despair option, but who is standing in for the hope one?” Shuichi pressed again after sharing a glance with the others in the room.

“Whomever of you manages to get your friends out of the negative perceptions the mastermind is creating. So honestly, I don’t know.” Kiibo crossed his arms, uncertain on where they were going with this. It seemed like it might be Kaede, based on how she was the one trying to get them all to ignore the fact they were all pointless fakes.

“Well if the ultimate hope and the mastermind were the same person, we wouldn’t be able to pick, right?” She made it sound so simple.

...Would that work? No. He lost any right to that title. “They can't be the same person.”

“Weren’t you saying they built you for that first one?” Maki asked, though her dislike was still evident.

“Well assuming they can be the same person, couldn’t they just end this? The mastermind is in charge, and if we simply can’t vote because there isn’t more than one option…” Shuichi’s attempt to make it sound like a hypothetical wasn’t fooling anyone, but it did seem reasonable.

It was tempting. It wouldn’t make up for anything, but if all four could leave it was better than nothing? When was the last time he had made a choice?

"You think our lives matter, don't you?" she spoke softly, as if lying to lure a kitten out from under a bed. "Even if our pasts are fake?"

Maki didn't seem all the convinced. "Or maybe you enjoyed it and Kaede is just being Kaito right now. An idiot."

"Almost fooled me when Miu died..." Himiko's reminder only twisted the knife. Of course they mattered. Yet he hesitated. Wouldn't admitting this just make it harder? "You mean as much as I do. Nothing."

"I say our lives matter." She shoved away his insistence easily, as if they were simply talking out at the courtyard. "So if we're all the same, you matter too."

"So, can you end it? The mastermind might keep the game running, but they end it too." He was leaning forward, not letting the robot look away from him. "We don't need to care what the outside world thinks, or what they want anymore." Defiance had never seemed possible. Yet if he was acting for the others, it wasn't really disobedience. He was just following their hope. That was his purpose too, wasn't it? Well, there was an easy way to check. He pulled up the mask from his collar and attempted to call on the upgrades he had installed on the chance more violence was needed. The fact his arm responded and changed to the cannon was almost a surprise. Miu would have gotten a kick out of that. Kokichi too, really. Too dead to care now.

“Is that a yes?” Kaede had no fear of the cannon, not even considering that he could simply turn it on all four of them. It was almost Kaito levels of belief. Foolish. He was their enemy...but maybe she did truly trust he never had the desire to do this.

“You all choose to have me end this, then? To have no say?” They had no fear. There was no real happiness there, stiff upper lips and raised chins at best, but they certainly were not in some state of despair either. “Is that really what you want?”

The nods were short, no hesitation. “We do. I trust you, I trust all of our lives matter. No matter what the outside world thinks!”

He stared at the pianist for a long moment, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t.” His chiding was somewhat muffled between the mask and the high pitched whine the jets made as they fired up. “Someone smarter than me will take advantage of that.” If she responded, he didn’t hear it. He didn’t want the four’s plan to fail if those in charge suddenly objected to this course of action. A few test shots that did nothing to the dome enclosing the school meant they had prepared for that possibility. The fact the part of the school he shot at to make sure he had the power level at max exploded rather spectacularly made it clear only one weapon was going to do anything. It could still fail...but he wouldn’t be around to be disappointed. The timing was good, he knew he felt his shoulder start to clip the dome as the self destruct timer hit zero. Whatever happened next would be up to those four. He could hope whatever it was would be better than here, at least. They’d suffered enough.

#drv3 #kiibo #Mastermind Kiibo #v3 killing harmony #keebo #inspired stuff #does this mean i fanficed a fanfic #yes #the comic is way better but i wanted more ok #so this exists #i need to work on my stuff now that this is out of my head lol

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johannstutt413 · 4 years ago

Text

(based on this comic by this person)

“Doctor Aki!” Angelina found him in the hallway, an earbud and clearly jamming to a song. “Good evening!”

He took the ‘bud out of his ear - not that there’d been any music in it - and turned to smile at her. “Good evening, Angelina. I was heading up to the balcony to see the sun set; would you care to join me?”

“You want me to watch with you? Sure!” Doki doki doki doki; she could feel her heartbeat rising to a crescendo in her chest.

“Excellent.” Aki put both hands in his jacket pockets, bending his left arm wide. When the Vulpo didn’t catch the hint, he shivered. “I feel cold.”

She blushed before floating to close the distance - she’d gotten rather used to orbiting him from a distance, truth be told - and hugged his arm close to her side. “Is this better, Doctor?”

“Much.” He managed not to reveal his true level of happiness, but some of it slipped through the crack that was his smile - the same smile that melted Angie’s heart like summer sun on chocolate.

They walked up to the balcony in what must have looked like awkward silence, but honestly wasn’t; partially because both were simply enjoying the moment, partially because they didn’t have much to talk about since they each knew the other’s routine very well, and partially because neither wanted to be the first to make a mistake. Angelina, for all her charms, had never had much luck with guys her age, and the Doctor remembered only vaguely attempting to court someone, but who they were and the lessons he learned from them were lost to time. Still, the fact that the other was there, consenting to be near them, was enough for now...More would come once they were watching the sun together.

“And here we are.” They emerged onto the west-facing deck just as the sun was beginning to touch the cloud layer below them. Doctor Aki uncoupled his arm and unpocketed his hands, gesturing to a loveseat facing out. “Shall we?”

“Eh? Um, sure.” She followed him, twiddling her thumbs as she hovered over the back of the sofa.

Before she’d entirely settled onto the cushion, the Doctor took out his MP3 player and offered her an earbud. “Would you like to listen to some music?”

“Yes, please.” Oh thank God, another reason not to say too much. Angie knew she didn’t need to be so scared of talking to him, but one wrong word could destroy everything she’d worked up to so far, and that...that would reeeally suck. “Um, what are we listening to?”

“You tell me.” He handed her the player.

Her eyes widened. “You want me to pick a song?”

“I do.” For a moment, her thoughts were transported to an entirely different context at the sound of those words. Her heartbeat was speeding up again. “Any song you’d like.”

“Okay...” Angelina was sure this was a test, and looking at his collection, she wasn’t sure that- wait. There it was, in plain Siracusan - her favorite song, in his Favorites playlist. Not a second of hesitation as she pressed ‘play,’ and a song like our world’s “Ride on Time” began to play.

From the first note, Doctor Aki knew he’d been right to wait for her like this, as hard as it had sometimes been not to speak up. Waiting for her to make the first move, to show the first sign of interest, to prove with absolute certainty she had more than a basic interest in him…“I love this song.”

“I love you, too. Wait, I- I meant-” But in her eyes, the damage had already been done; she curled up into a ball and floated a few centimeters off the couch. “S-sorry.”

“...You don’t have to apologize for saying those words.” He managed to reach out and gently grasp the fingers of one hand to pull her back down to earth.

She peaked out from her ball for a moment before hiding again. “I meant to say I like the song, too, but it came out wrong.”

“Of course.” The Doctor was smiling at her yet again, but there was something different about the way he was looking at her; his eyes usually danced with light, and while they were still bright as the sun faded before them, they were softer than usual, warmer. Gentle. Patient. “It’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, bu- wait. How did you know?”

His thumb slid over the back of her fingers, back and forth to an unfelt rhythm. “Sometimes, when you look into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you. Sorry, that was a bit too ominous; what I meant was that I knew you were watching me for some time now, studying me. I could feel your gaze on me, like a ray of sunlight on my neck to warm me on a cool autumn day.”

“You noticed?” The Vulpo was slowly uncurling, enough to reveal a tomato-red face that had resisted the urge to cry. “And you...you liked it?”

“It makes me feel special knowing I caught your eye to such a degree. Perhaps if I had more time on my hands, I would return the favor, but as it stands, I’ve had to content myself with your mail deliveries and knowing that, when you could be, you were nearby. Now, though...Would you like to go on a date?”

Angelina completely uncurled to better stare at him. “C-can we go on one right now?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” He took her hand properly and stood up as the sun fell completely beneath the clouds. “Let’s get dinner. You’re from Siracusa, I know, but how do you feel about the food?”

“It’s good. Honestly I like the diners more than the fancy restaurants - my home town has some amazing burgers...Haha. Hey, before we go, will you take a picture with me?” She pulled out her phone and flipped open the camera app as she floated next to him..

Aki leaned in close, resting his head against hers. “I’d like nothing more.”

“3, 2, 1- Sorridi!” In the moment just after the Vulpo clicked the button and was waiting for the picture to show on her screen, the Doctor kissed her cheek...and turned her into a balloon, ballasted only by his hand holding hers. “Ah! You got me!”

“That I did. Are you going to come down?” The smile on his face was genuine joy at having gotten this reaction from her.

She looked down at him before removing his gravity and bringing him up to her. “Nope~”

#arknights #angelina (arknights)#yeah i had another one of those 'this is so cute i need to write it' moments #so i did #there might be a few more of these #depending on timing of banners and such compared to what's in queue #arknights fic

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stimmypaw · 4 years ago

Text

stimmypaw reads Thunder & Shadow, another blog post

much like the first time, I am continuing to read A Vision of Shadows for the first time and sharing my thoughts as I go! This post of course has a bunch of spoilers for Thunder and Shadow. It’s all in the read more, have fun!

I'm so glad echosong is okay but what will she do??? Where will she go??? I'm so worried

I don't like it that Briarlight is stuck in the medicine den all day, love to see her playing with kits and showing her strength tho she's so sweet and good she deserves better

Now littlecloud is sick too???? Fuck!!!!

Also seems Needlepaw and Alderpaw haven't managed to get along better yet, maybe Alderpaw can talk to her through Leafpool since she's going to Shadowclan?

Also graystripe is awful as always and I love him 2 bits

I love Rowanstar's character too, he's so stupidly proud. Shadowclan has a fun trend of having a long line of mediocre to awful leaders and I feel bad for Tawnypelt, Shadowclans braincell who should be leader.

Jayfeather is gonna miss his friends

YES, SKYCLAN!!!! SKYCLANNNN

Twigkit lifting her front paws im 💖💖💖💖 AAAAA BABY

Graystripe :] he's silly

Omg feather time

If something bad happens to this feather ill fraud my taxes I will commit many crimes this delivery must happen safely and if anyone takes it from violetkit I will Kill

Omg sleekpaw don't be so mean poor littlecloud :c medicine cats are important!!

I see alderpaw leaving his feather behind alderpaw get it to violetkit Now

Oh God imagine being puddlekit, shadowclan needs to get its shit together real fast

Leafpool is just that picture (i do not see) while trying to process the mess they got her in

OKAY SO I'm glad he's getting along with needlepaw and that he can finally give violetkit her feather but LITTLECLOUD GUYS??? LITTLECLOUD?????????

My heart melted with violetkit, this was so sweet, why are the queens so mean to her??? She's just an autistic icon bro!! Like every cat I like in these books.

Alderpaw: hey I have an idea, why don't we commit crimes?

Needlepaw: FINALLY I THOUGHT YOUD NEVER ASK

VIOLETKIT POINT OF VIEW FINALLY???? FUCK YES YESSSS YES YES SHADOWCLAN TIME IM SO HAPPY THIS IS SO COOL

Last time this happened the character immediately died tho

I am suffering for violetkit

i wish violetkit would spend more time with leafpool im sure she’d be caring maybe?? maybe im just desperate for violetkit to be loved

no one here knows how to treat a kit

OH YES YESSS

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS SSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATHEYRE TOGETHER AGAIN

im so sad

broooooo

aaaaa i hope needlepaw treats violetkit better from now on, this is hearbreaking.

Fuck I knew it, the rogues are coming for them aren’t they? And where’s Skyclan now????? fuck fuck fuck

ok I have no clue who Fernsong is but he’s funny already why is he like this what is happening why is he blocking them from looking at Honeykit while talking about how worried he is about her?? Absolutely misterious I love him

Jayfeather 🤝 Yellowfang

“I don’t want kits around me”

oh the girls are fighting

oh the girls ARE fighting

furzepelt had a cool name im sorry to hear he only existed to die immediately :c

onestar also is very proud, im glad he accepted help this time tho

SPARKPAW MED CAT MOMENT HAHAH

i forgot bumblestripe was a cat and i was wondering if it was just a typo for bramble

also what’s up with dove and tiger??? i forgot everything about their relationship in the previous books because i don’t care about it and the erins tend to write some pretty boring straight couples

the way they’re described makes me feel like needlepaw and sleekpaw are just differently colored versions of each other at times, are they related?? they don’t seem to be.

and here’s the bit that’s previewed, oh boy, it must have been seriously scary being violetkit, but i hope they don’t convince her the clans hate her :c thunderclan likes her shadowclan just sucks

What do these background cats want from Twigkit???? To shoot lasers out of her eyes?? I guess she isn’t magical or anything but also she’s just a kit??? Firepaw was also just a kittypet and he’s a big deal :/// y’all just don’t get it, I hope Twigkit doesn’t get Dovepaw’s protagonist anxiety

I know Twigkit is being scolded but this scene is just so cute like Jayfeather is just tucking her in a moss bed while being mad at her for leaving camp

Thats another one I need to draw i love them

SPARKPELT YESSSSS YESS SYE SYES YES 🎊🎉🎉🎉🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈💖💖💖💖💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💕

Mothwing ableist????? That's cringe

Omg poor kestrelflight

Jayfeather misses Leafpool so bad, Puddlepaw must feel awful though

OLD AGE? H HOW OLD IS LEAFPOOL THEN???

?????? OH GOD IM LOVING THIS???

This apprentice rebellion is Nuts its so good oh fuck!!! I'm loving whats happening here its awful and perfect

Violetkit is getting bitter :c she needs 2 be embraced and loved stat

She is also clearly getting some bad dependency and abandonment issues, desperate to do anything to please so she won't be left alone again :c

FUCK NO NO NO AAAA NEEDLEPAW WHAT WWERE YOU THUNKING??????? JESUS POOR VIOLETKIT

Kitnapping, this is bad

Oh, very interesting

These apprentices and rogues are so smart god this is a perfect plan

Twigkit absolutely is the sunshine

I love her interactions with Alderpaw, I wish she had gotten to see her sister

In comparison Violetkit looking around camp desperate for attention is awful

Oh fuck bribing

NEEDLEPAW DONT BE MEAN TO VIOLETKIT :C

Oh fuck ou fuck the 4chan kids are angry

??? BRO WHAT??? DONT KICK OUT VIOLETKIT, THATS WHY YOUR APPRENTICES TURNED INTO ANCAPS DAMN

I'm angy

Oh no

Something bad happened :c

Bramblestar: good day!

Rowanstar: Oh Is it??? You could say that while starving in winter, cringe ass

Mistystar: its not winter tho

Onestar: well you're fat

God rowanstar must be obliterated

Hey where's the rowanstars maps use idk loon on a lake or something this man has angst!!!

I appreciate Ivypool is her mentor, at least Someone is honest about whats going on and hey they can both relate on the fear of not being special! Ivypool can be very good to Twigpaw im counting on her

Oh fuck

Violetpaw sounds like she's in trouble with the rogues :c aa

AAAA TWIGPAWWWW AAAA

Violetpaw don't be mean about your sister :C she misses you so bad

Sleekwhisker is like that dad that let his kid starve until she learned to open a bean can she didn't want

Holy fuck

Aaaa violetpaw D:

Jesus christ that was awful

That was so intense I was so nervous for Violetpaw, I'm really happy for her now aaaa

Another gathering already? Wowie

I hope Shadowclan gets those herbs soon :c

I see he appeal in FernIvy and I appreciate it

Violetpaw and Twigpaw sharing a den my heart......this is IT

Jayfeather: I want to steal

I'm listening to Burn Pygmalion! and "viscious kin" is very fitting for this series ehhehe

I love violetpaw and twigpaw btw

IM CRYING

I cant believe Alderpaw is an all lives matter kinda guy

Yesss rebel get those herbs alreadyyy

Starclan has agreed to let kestrelflight kill onestar, goodbye onestar /j

Epic I love you harespring

Alderpaw being confused at Jayfeather saying he is proud is the Best

What an ending! Terrifying and hopeful at the same time, I am very excited to see the hijinks Bramblestar and Rowanstar will get into and how they will go searching for Skyclan, it was PAINFUL to have that prologue talking about them with 0 hope of them showing up again Nothing Nada Zilch, feels like that and the ending were just 2 remind us that that was still the major plot point hahaha, I appreciate it I guess. I'm glad Violetpaw and Twigpaw are on uh good terms despite it all, not very ideal and they're both upset but they still consider each other siblings and know they care about each other :'0 Alderheart getting his name is epic too!!! I was hoping he would soon. I loved everything about his interactions with Jayfeather here, loved all the characterizations really it was just top notch, Onestar being a bastard, Needletail, OH AND SHADOWCLAN JOINING THE ROGUES, top notch!!!! The ancap apprentices were a riot.

This was a good book!!! Flowed very nicely and smoothly, reading in shadowclan's point of view for more than around 3 chapters was great. I can barely wait for the rest!!! Will Violetpaw find belonging in this new era of Shadowclan??? Or will she leave again??? Will Alderheart somehow figure out where Skyclan is and get them together at the lake??? Will Twigpaw get all the spicy details of Dovewing's secret romance with Tigerheart??? Who knows!! But I am very excited to find out what happens next :D

#wc #warrior cats #wc avos #avos #wc a vision of shadows #a vision of shadows #warrior cats avos #warrior cats a vision of shadows #thunder and shadow #vision of shadows thunder and shadow #avos thunder and shadow #needletail #onestar #jayfeather #dovewing #my nyas

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littlereyofsunlight · 5 years ago

Text

The Fire is So Delightful

Hi @geekynerddemon, I’m your @steggyfanevents secret santa! You chose modern AU from the options I gave you, so I wrote you some firefighter Steve Rogers and a self-rescuing Peggy Carter. There’s a cat in a tree, plus a bunch of the usual suspects from the MCU. Chapter 2 coming shortly!

Read on AO3

ch 1/2 Rating: Gen Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers Characters: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sif, Dum Dum Dugan Additional Tags: Firefighter AU, Modern Day AU, romcom, meet-cute, the gang’s all here Summary: Peggy rescues a cat from a tree. Steve doesn’t help.

“Will you look after Liho for me?” Natasha’s sudden request startled Peggy out of her contemplation of the drink in front of her. They were at their usual place, a dingy little bar down the block from work where the bartenders all knew them and they could hold a conversation without having to shout over music or dodge the advances of the neighborhood suits, who generally avoided the place owing to its distinctly aggressive lack of atmosphere.

“Sorry?”

Natasha kept her eyes on her own drink, fidgeting with the straw. Natasha, normally a beer drinker, or after especially difficult weeks just straight vodka, had ordered one of the bar’s ridiculous cocktails. It was tequila-based, neon orange, came in a Tiki cup and had what looked to Peggy like an entire mint plant sticking out the top. “I’m going out of town for the holiday and I need a cat-sitter.”

Peggy had worked with Natasha on the analyst team for six years now, but she’d only ever been invited to her home once, a few months ago. “I’d be happy to, I have no plans.” As a rule, she saved the trans-Atlantic flights for better weather. Her parents weren’t big on Christmas, anyways.

Natasha gave a quick little half smile, and Peggy noticed her shoulders drop a good inch. “Thank you.” She took a sip of her drink, holding the ostentatious garnish away from her face as she did so. “My, um, ex-girlfriend is also going to be home for the holiday, so I didn’t want to just do a short trip this year. I’ll get you a key next week.” Then she changed the subject back to work, and they strategized about their supervisor’s latest power play—and speculated how their beloved admin Darcy Lewis might undermine it—until much too late for a work night.

Two weeks later, Peggy set her bag down just inside the threshold of Natasha’s bright, clean two-story duplex. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

Nat waved her hand. “It’s such a long drive between your neighborhood and mine. If you’d be more comfortable at home, of course, Liho will be fine.”

Peggy looked around the downstairs living area, flooded with early afternoon light. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly comfortable here. I just know how very private you are.”

Nat gave her a shy smile. “I think we’re past all that, aren’t we?”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” Peggy smiled broadly back.

“Okay, bedroom is upstairs and there are fresh sheets and towels and everything. Help yourself to anything in the fridge or pantry, of course. I got some of those yogurts you always eat, plus this—” Nat thrust a nice bottle of red wine into Peggy’s hands, though Peggy wasn’t sure exactly where she’d been hiding it up until then “—Her food is on the counter, please just the listed amounts, because she is a terrible beggar and will try to weasel more food out of you.“

“Noted,” Peggy said.

“And her litter boxes are in the bathrooms, the litter is flushable.”

“Convenient.”

“Also, she sometimes tries to escape out the front door, so look out for that.”

“So to review, your cat is a cat who acts like a cat,” Peggy teased. “I have this handled, I promise. Liho and I will get some quality time on your couch with everyone’s favorite streaming network while you spend the holiday with your sexy ex. Now get out of here. Maria’s waiting for you, isn’t she?”

“Thank you, Peggy,” Natasha said, as she rolled her eyes but pulled her in for a quick hug nonetheless. “Liho’s hiding upstairs, but she’ll probably come down around dinnertime, so like, six, if she doesn’t get curious about you before then.”

“Is she very interested in people?” Peggy’s grandmother kept cats in her little London flat, and they were always all over the place regardless of who was visiting, though she supposed that could have been more out of necessity. The few times she and her brother Michael had tried to play hide-and-seek while visiting Nana had been very anticlimactic: there were only two good child-sized (or even cat-sized) hiding spots in the whole place.

Nat shook her head. “She and I get along because we’re very similar.”

“So if I lose her, I should just put out a saucer of vodka.”

“It might work,” Nat allowed. “Smart-ass.”

“Aren’t you leaving?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nat looked up the stairs one more time. “Thanks again. Text me if you need anything.”

“We won’t.” Peggy raised her eyebrow. “Text me if you get some this weekend.”

Nat actually blushed at that, to Peggy’s surprise. “You’re sort of wearing on my gratitude, here,” she grumbled fondly. She picked up her bag and took her coat off the hook.

Peggy threw up her hands. “Yes, I’m trying to get you to leave already!”

Laughing over her shoulder, Nat finally opened the door. “See you in a week.”

“Drive safe!” Peggy called after her.

“Oh!” Nat called, stopping beside her car. “My neighbors are all pretty friendly, don’t be surprised if someone pops by.”

Before Peggy could formulate a response (How friendly? Which neighbors? Why aren’t any of them watching your cat?), Nat was in her car and on her way. “Thanks for that advice, I guess,” Peggy said to herself. She closed the door and looked around. At least this Christmas she’d be alone in a new location, she mused. She pulled out her phone and tapped out a quick message to her friend Angie back home, even though Peggy knew she’d be asleep already. She scrolled aimlessly through the apps on her phone, hovering over the ‘dating’ folder she’d shoved Hinge and Bumble and all the rest into after the last in a series of disastrous dates over the summer. Peggy hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was lonely.

True to Natasha’s word, a small, sleek black cat poked her head through the top two spindles of the stairs promptly at six pm and, upon seeing Peggy on the couch but not Natasha, she let out a series of squeaking chirps. Peggy put down the novel she’d borrowed from Nat’s bookshelf—Lauren Beukes’s Broken Monsters, and here Peggy had thought Nat to be more of a nonfiction reader—and got up to see what Liho’s dinner situation was.

Natasha very clearly cared a great deal for the skinny little cat who, according to Nat, had turned up on her doorstep one day and invited herself to stay forever. There was a stainless steel water dish that continuously burbled up a little fountain, and two shallow dishes, one for wet food and one for dry. On the counter above the cat’s dishes, Nat had thoughtfully set out Liho’s food, all fancy brand-name specialty stuff. Liho chirped at her a few more times while Peggy dumped a can of wet into the designated bowl, and she kept making adorable little nomming noises while she chowed down. Peggy stroked her hand down the cat’s back and Liho jumped and shot Peggy an affronted look before she went back to her food.

“No touchy while eating, got it.” Peggy left the cat to her meal and grabbed her phone to see what delivery options were available in Nat’s neighborhood. As she tried to decide between Mexican and an interesting Vietnamese-fusion place, the doorbell rang.

Peggy opened the door to a barefoot, confused-looking man wearing a t-shirt despite the frigid weather. He sketched a brief wave before launching into a query in sign language, but she couldn’t hope to follow. Peggy waved back and gave him a broad “huh” gesture. He nodded and reached up to turn on the hearing aids hidden under his hat.

“Is Nat home?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, she’s not in,” Peggy responded.

“I’m her neighbor, Clint,” he said, pointing his thumb at the other side of the duplex. “I was hoping she’d want to split a takeout order.”

“Oh!” Peggy said, realization dawning. “I’m Peggy, Nat’s friend from work. I’m watching her cat for the week. Did she tell you she was going back for the holiday?”

Clint watched her lips closely and nodded as she spoke. “Right, sorry, I forgot.” He scratched the back of his head under his knit cap and squinted at her. “Do you maybe want to go in on some takeout?”

A grin spread across her face and she opened the door wider. “What do you think of the Vietnamese place?”

Clint gave her both thumbs up. “The báhn bao are freaking amazing.”

When Nat texted later that evening to let Peggy know she’d arrived, Peggy and Clint snapped a quick photo for her with their very impressive spread of food and Liho just barely visible in the background, creeping on the interlopers in her home from the top of the stairs. Nat texted back a laughing with tears emoji and then when you go to bed tonight double check under the covers. she sometimes attacks feet if she’s not expecting them

Noted, Peggy replied. More normal cat behavior.

Nat sent back the eye-roll emoji.

Have you seen Maria yet? Peggy hoped she wasn’t being too nosy. She and Nat had been friendly for years but this new level, with in-home cat-sitting and ex-sex-discussing, was still pretty new for them.

In response, a photo appeared of Nat’s slim fingers around a half-drunk pint glass. she’s meeting me in 30 minutes, got here early for some liquid courage

Peggy sent her a string of crossed fingers and martini glasses, punctuated with a purple heart.

Nat sent back a purple heart and Peggy felt it in her chest, warm and liquid. She didn’t have many good friends, and all of them were back home in the UK. Nat, standoffish, prickly, elusive Nat, was turning out to be her first real friend in the States.

Just then, Liho jumped up into Peggy’s lap and butted her head against the hand holding her phone. Now she was ready for Peggy to pet her.

Clint was good company, and he turned out to unabashedly love Love Island, which Peggy watched to keep up with Angie’s opinions on the subject, so he and Peggy re-started the beginning of the third series together and talked about how Camilla was too good for the rest of the crowd.

While Peggy got ready for bed, she poked her head around the upstairs, looking for Liho as she brushed her teeth and slathered on moisturizer, dipping back into the bathroom to spit and then to dab on a spot treatment.

“Where are you hiding, miss?” She peeked behind the door of Nat’s second bedroom, set up as an office. She spun the desk chair around, but there was no cat curled in a ball in the seat. Peggy went into Nat’s bedroom and threw back the covers, but no luck. She called and called, but Liho didn’t poke her head out, didn’t answer with a chirp. Peggy searched the whole house twice, and then remembered what Nat had said about the front door. Had it been open too long when Clint left? Peggy had said goodnight and gone to put away her leftovers, she hadn’t watched to see if the cat stayed inside. She couldn’t remember seeing her after that.

Feeling out of sorts, Peggy grabbed her phone and Nat’s key, tossed a hoodie on over her sleeping shirt and shoved her feet into her sneakers. She opened the door and stepped onto the stoop, calling softly for Liho as she shut the door firmly behind her, in case the cat was still inside. “If you’re out here, darling, please come back inside.” Peggy shivered as a cold wind blew down the street, throwing the bare branches of the tree in Nat’s yard against each other. A full moon and a cloudless sky, plus the street lamps and the festive lights on many of the houses meant the street was fairly well-lit, even at this hour.

She turned on the flashlight on her phone and swept the light around the walkway, focusing on the spots in shadow. “Liho!” She stepped off the stoop and into the yard. Over the wind, Peggy heard it. An unmistakable chirp. She spun around, trying to see the cat. “Come here, kitty!” Against her better judgement, she made kissy noises and thanked the lord no one else seemed to be out at this hour. Another chirp, and this time Peggy realized where it was coming from. She aimed her light at the tree. Standing in a vee about halfway up the old oak was Liho, shivering in the wind.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Peggy said, “did you get yourself stuck up there?” Liho chirped back at her and stayed put.

Peggy eyed the tree trunk. She’d climbed more difficult ones, to be sure, but not since primary school. She tucked her phone and keys into her pocket and zipped her hoodie up to her chin. “I’m gonna get you down,” she told the cat. “Don’t worry,” she said, mostly to herself.

As Peggy climbed, Liho retreated further up into the branches. “That’s the wrong direction!” Peggy complained. But she could keep going, so she did. The street lamp provided decent illumination, and it was a dry, cold night, so the bark wasn’t slippery against her rubber-soled shoes.

A truck rumbled down the street and stopped at a nearby house and Peggy hoped the occupants wouldn’t notice her, climbing a tree at midnight in her pajamas.

“Uh, ma’am?” A voice called up from below.

“Bugger,” Peggy cursed. No such luck.

She didn’t dare look down, the branches were starting to get thin. Liho watched the man on the street with some interest, though, which might work in Peggy’s favor. “Ma’am I’m with the fire department. Is everything okay up there?”

Peggy had to laugh. “I’m fine, just retrieving a cat. But you seem to be short a hook and ladder, or even a siren. So try again, Mr. Fireman.”

She heard a sigh from down below, but Liho was cautiously creeping towards Peggy along one of the topmost branches. “That’s it, come here.” Peggy reached out her hand and Liho came closer. Peggy braced herself against the trunk of the tree, hugging it with her thighs, and then she grabbed the cat by the scruff of her neck. Liho let out an undignified squawk but didn’t fight her grip, allowing Peggy to drag her close to her chest and hold her there.

“Good job,” the man encouraged.

“No thanks to you,” Peggy muttered. She climbed down. Liho, to her credit, submitted to Peggy’s hold like a kitten in her mama’s jaws. Soon enough, they were both out of the tree.

The supposed firefighter stood several feet away on the sidewalk, watching. “All set?” he asked.

“We’re fine.” She finally got a good look at him then, and well, he did look the part. At least six feet tall, with broad shoulders, fair hair, and a clean-cut All-American sort of look, if the chiseled jawline throwing shadows under the streetlamps were anything to go by. He wasn’t in his gear, of course, just jeans and a short leather jacket. It was still a good look on him.

He looked back up the tree. “You, uh, you’re pretty good at that.” He looked back to her and gave her a small smile.

“It’s not my first tree.” She looked him up and down. “Are you really a firefighter?”

He hooked his thumb back at his truck. “Not on duty. I heard the call on my radio, and I was nearby.” Now Peggy could see the bar of lights on the top of his truck. “I’m guessing you didn’t call this in, though? You definitely had things under control.”

She smiled despite herself. “I did have it under control.”

He nodded. “Well, glad I could be of no help at all.”

“You certainly did get here quickly, so points for that, I suppose.” She shifted the cat against her and took a tentative step closer.

“I live in the neighborhood.” He took a step closer, too. Peggy could see the wry smile on his lush mouth now. “Steve Rogers,” he offered.

“Peggy Carter. I’m just cat-sitting for a friend.” She cut him a look under her lashes, having a bit of fun. “But I’m starting to see why my friend likes this location.” Steve open and shut his mouth a few times, and then his reply was cut off by the wail of a siren. They both turned to look as a fire truck careened down the street. Steve stepped into the center of the road to flag them down. As the siren got louder, Peggy felt Liho tense under her hands, her front claws digging into Peggy’s sweatshirt. She tried to hold her close, but the cat squirmed away and bounded right back up into the tree. “Oh, Bloody Nora!”

He came back to stand beside her, hands on his hips. “Did the cat just run back up the tree?”

Peggy sighed. “The cat just ran back up the tree.”

“Well,” Steve scratched at the back of his head as he looked up to where Liho had perched herself, “I have that ladder now.”

“Captain Rogers!” Someone called from over by the truck. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Steve checked his watch. “Lieutenant Barnes, somehow I made it here a full five minutes before you did.”

“Aw, Steve, it’s a cat in a tree.”

“I told him we should get our hustle on for any call in your neighborhood, Cap,” another firefighter piped up.

“You should hustle for any call anywhere, come on, team” Steve’s voice got more commanding as he spoke with the members of the crew.

“Is that the cat’s owner?” another crew member piped up, gesturing at Peggy as she climbed down from the truck.

“I’m caring for her, yes,” Peggy replied.

The woman looked up at the tree and back at Peggy. “Would she let someone hold her if we got the ladder up there?”

Peggy considered. “She’s not great with new people.”

The firefighter nodded and looked back at Steve. “Cat bag.”

“Cat bag,” Steve agreed. “Ms. Carter here already got her down once, so I don’t think this one’s a jumper.”

The rest of the crew all exchanged looks, disbelief clear on their faces despite the truck’s flashing lights throwing strange shadows over the group. “Uh, what?” The handsome one Steve had called Barnes broke the awkward silence.

“I got her down,” Peggy explained. “Then your siren scared her and she went right back up.”

Another firefighter—also a handsome man, Peggy noticed—looked slowly between Peggy and the tree. “So if you didn’t have any trouble getting up there, then why …?” He squinted back at Peggy.

“She didn’t call this in, it must have been a neighbor.” Steve clapped his hands together. “All right, it’s cold out and I’m sure that cat wants to be warm inside, just like the rest of us. Who’s going up?”

“Not it,” both Barnes and the other one said at the same time.

“Wilson,” Barnes whined, “I got the last one.”

“Allergies, man. You’d have to dose me with Benadryl if you want me within five feet of a cat.” Wilson shrugged. “Sif, can you take this one?’

The female firefighter—yet again a very attractive person, statuesque with dark hair and big, dark eyes, Peggy was starting to wonder if the entire engine company put out a calendar every year—already had a burlap sack, which Peggy assumed was the cat bag, in her hands, along with a length of nylon rope and carabiners. She rolled her eyes at the other two. “Well, it’s not like Cap’s going to send Dum Dum up after her, is it?”

As if on cue, a fourth fire fighter stuck his head out of the truck’s door. “Everything okay out here?”

“Thanks for the help, Dugan!” Steve shouted back.

“Oh! Cap! Didn’t realize you were here!”

Steve waved him off and turned back to Sif. “You don’t want the ladder?”

Sif looked at the tree. “Nah, it’ll go faster and scare the cat less if I climb up. What’s her name?” The last part she addressed to Peggy.

“Liho.”

Sif nodded, put on some thick work gloves she produced from a pocket, clipped the cat bag to her belt and up she went.

“You know,” Peggy said, standing next to Steve as they watched Sif’s ascent, “if you lot hadn’t showed up I’d already be back in the house with the cat I’ve been entrusted to look after.”

She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. “But then you wouldn’t have met me or my motley crew, and wouldn’t that have been a shame.”

Peggy eyed him speculatively and took a breath. “Jury’s still out. Perhaps you could buy me coffee sometime, Captain, as an apology for keeping me up so late. Give me more time to decide.” She felt brazen, hitting on a man who was there to do his work, but he wasn’t her neighbor, after all. And she was intrigued by this man, his apparent kindness, how he showed up even when his shift was over, not to mention the easy way he had with the people under his command. Captain Steve Rogers was the sort of man she wanted to get to know better. And, not to put too fine a point on it ... he was sexy.

Half his mouth quirked up in a self-conscious smile and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Coffee, huh?” He looked at her, his ridiculously long eyelashes casting shadows on his face in the strange light. “Could we make it dinner? Tomorrow?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “With the upcoming holidays, I’m going to be working ten days straight. Better to get it out of the way.”

“Oh.” Peggy’s spirits fell.

“No!” Steve backtracked, eyes wide. “That came out all wrong. That was me trying not to uh, sound too eager? Also, I’m tired, and one of my firefighters is up a tree, and you are a very attractive woman and you just asked me out and my brain might be short-circuiting right now?”

Peggy had to laugh at that. “Okay, okay, stop digging.”

“You have to forgive Cap,” Wilson said from behind them. “We don’t let him out much.”

“This may in fact be the first non-work conversation he’s had with a woman,” Barnes chimed in. “Sorry it was so bad. He’s terrible at flirting.”

Steve took the good-natured teasing in stride. “Watch it, you two,” he warned them, but there was only wry warmth in his tone as he shook his head.

“I agree, it was very lacklustre flirting,” Peggy said. “You’ll need to step up your game for dinner tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve replied, a broad smile on his face.

“Got her!” Sif called from above. “Coming down. Good job securing a date, Cap.”

Peggy had to agree with that, too.

#steggysecretsanta #steggy fic #geekynerddemon #steve rogers #peggy carter #my fic

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thelastspeecher · 5 years ago

Note

50 - Punctual (Supers AU? - heroing keeps making Stan late to events and Angie will not let him forget it. At least SHE's on time (yes she gets to actually schedule her shenanigans but shush). Conversely, the one time ANGIE'S late and Stan gets to lord it over her... once he's done freaking out that something's gone horribly wrong, of course.)

50. Punctual

Fun fact: I randomly got inspired to write this last night at midnight and stayed up waaaaaay too late writing it. But it was worth it to knock another one of these prompts out of the park. The route I went with this was...different than what you suggested. What you suggested was great, but there was a part of this AU that I’ve been meaning to write up at some point, and this prompt was able to fit into it. So. Hopefully you like it.

Prompt List

——————————————————————————————

Stan kissed Angie on theforehead. She opened her eyes groggily.

“What’s goin’ on?” she slurred,sitting up. Stan sat on the edge of thebed next to her.

“They called me in.”

“Who’s they?” Angiemuttered. She yawned widely. “The FBI? Disneyland?”

I never learn. I gotta stop trying to have conversationswith Angie right when she wakes up. Herbrain takes forever to start working.

“No. My job.”

“Yer…” Angie frowned. Her eyes widened. “Wh- but- yer on paternity leave!”

“I know.”

“We set this up when we firstknew we were havin’ another kidlet. Weneeded a cushion of time fer ya to be off work, otherwise they’d-”

“Call me in and I might- I mightmiss the birth again,” Stan finished. “Iknow.”

“Then explain-” Angie startedsharply, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

“They said that if I didn’t comethey’d send someone to drag me in by the ear,” Stan interrupted. Angie glowered. “There’s something big going down. They need all hands on deck.” Angie crossed her arms. “Babe, I can’t get out of it. They said they’d send Susan to get me if Ididn’t show up in the next fifteen minutes. Do you really want a hero poking around our house?” Angie looked away. “Ang.”

“Just- just go,” Angie saidfinally. She rested her hands on herlarge baby bump. “There’s still a month‘til their due date, anyways. Danny ‘nDaisy were late, they probably will be too.” Angie looked at him again. “Just…keep yer phone on ya, okay?”

“I’m not gonna miss it thistime. I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Angie kissed him on the cheek. “Go kick some ass.” Stan grinned at her.

“I always do.”

-----

Stan slammed against the ground,encased in a thick layer of slime.

“Eugh,” he groaned loudly.

This is the most disgustingsituation I’ve ever been in. And I’vespent hours in a sewer. There was aloud chime from his pocket. If that’sthe goddamn family group chat I somehow got roped into again… With an exorbitant amount of effort, Stanremoved his phone. It was a text fromAngie. His heart stopped.

“It’s go time.” Stan’s heart began to beat again, but at arate triple what it had been before. Hehurriedly typed back a response, not caring about the slime smearing onto thephone from his fingers.

“Baby?” Stan looked around, spotted a nearbydumpster, and dove behind it, waiting for Angie’s response.

“Obviously!” Stan’s breath hitched in his throat. “Fidds is taking me. Lute’s staying with the girls. Get here NOW.” Stan began to type out a reply, but anothertext interrupted him. “Please.” Stan closed his eyes, remembering how he hadmissed the birth of his daughters.

I’ll be damned if I miss thebirth of my sons, too.

“I’m on my way.” Stan stuffed the phone back into his pocketand looked back at the fight still ongoing. The giant sentient blob of slime didn’t seem to be slowing any timesoon.

They’ll get on my ass if Ileave now, but I don’t give a shit. Thisfucking job kept me from the first birth, I’m not missing the second one. Stan burst into flames, pinched his nose shutto avoid breathing in the awful smell of burning slime, and flew away.

-----

Stan burst into the hospitalroom.

“Angie!” he shouted. Angie, sitting upright in a hospital bed,startled. She looked over at Stan.

“Stan!” she said happily. Stan rushed to her side. “You made it.”

“I was late last time. I’m not gonna be late this time,” Stan saidfirmly. Angie smiled at him.

“What in tarnation is in yerhair?” a voice asked. Stan lookedover. Angie’s older brother Fiddlefordwas sitting in a nearby armchair, holding something that had a lot of wiresattached to it.

“Did I not burn it all off?” Stanmumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair. He grimaced, feeling chunks of slimebeginning to coat his hand. “It’sslime.”

“You’ll need to be more specific,”Fiddleford said.

“I’m not a slime scientist,okay? There was some giant slime thingand-” Angie let out a cry of pain. “Angie?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,”she whispered. Fiddleford jumped to hisfeet and ran out of the room, calling for a nurse.

“What doesn’t feel right?”

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Angie grimaced. “The doctor said I wasn’t ready fer thedelivery room yet, but it feels like I am.”

“Danny and Daisy were born prettyfast,” Stan said. Angie closed her eyes.

“Yeah. They were.” Her voice broke on the last word. She whimpered.

“Angie, talk to me. What’s-” The door slammed open. A man in awhite coat entered the room.

“Is something wrong?” the doctorasked. Angie nodded. “Okay. Put your feet up, let’s check under the hood.”

“Weird way to say it, butwhatever,” Stan mumbled, moving closer to Angie’s head. After a brief moment “checking under thehood”, the doctor turned to a nurse that had come in shortly behind him.

“Prep the OR. We have a footling breech.”

“Prep the what?” Stan asked. His heart was sinking. “A breech?”

“Inform the NICU they need to beready for preterm twins,” the doctor continued.

“Hey, buddy,” Stan snapped, “stopsaying words that no one else understands.” Once the nurse had left the room, the doctor looked at Stan.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the father, smartass.”

“Stan,” Angie whispered. Stan glared at the doctor.

“Tell us what’s going on.”

“The first of the babies isfootling breech. He’s being bornfeetfirst. That’s the most dangerousform of breech. They’ll need to bedelivered via C-section. Hence tellingthe operating room to be ready.” Stan’sblood ran cold. Two nurses entered theroom. “We have to move fast.” Stan looked at Angie. She was as white as a sheet and shaking. Stan forced a grin.

“‘Course my kid would moon thedoctors,” he said quietly. He took ahold of Angie’s hand. “C’mon, this isnothing, right? You’ve been throughworse than this.”

“Yeah, like giving birth in aliving room without a medical professional present,” Angie muttered. Stan’s grin widened.

“Exactly. This is gonna be a piece of cake,” hesaid. Angie raised an eyebrow athim. “You don’t even have to do any workthis time.” Angie let out a breathylaugh. “That’s the spirit.”

“At least…” Angie squeezed his hand. “At least yer here this time.”

“I told you. I wasn’t gonna be late again. And clearly, neither were you.”

#this fic features the return of Angie's deep confusion whenever she awakes #Angie's relationship with sleep is one of my favorites of the traits I gave her lmao #she cannot be awoken and when she does awake it's like a computer rebooting #Superhero/villain AU #Stangie #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Fiddleford McGucket #my writing #ficlet #ask #exsanguinary

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upwiththegood · 3 years ago

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MAIDSTONE STROKE GROUP

OCTOBER NEWSLETTER 2021

OUR FIRST MEETINGS BACK ON TUESDAYS.

An excellent turn out for our first Tuesday meeting back at Tovil, although I was not able to attend myself this photo was taken and shows all that attended apart from John who was taking the photo. It would be great to have everyone back and start where we left off before the first lockdown, and with most people having had both vaccines it would be safer to mix with like wise people who are fully vaccinated with or without masks depends how the individual feels. We do hope those members who feel uneasy about attending Tovil at the moment would feel better about attending having seen the photo, or let us know what we need to do to make you feel safe attending again, it was good to

hear that Vicky was behind the bar again its like being as near as can be to normal at the moment, Wendy and myself look forward to attending the next meeting.

Peter Fenton

TINY BOTS 'BRAIN FIX'

Microscopic robots will be used to repair damage in stroke victims' brains' scientists hope. The nano – surgeons would be small enough to travel through blood vessels and deliver drugs to affected areas. European scientists, backed by UK Stroke charity Different Strokes, are working on the project, called Angie. Prof Josep Puigmarti – Luis said: “we are passionate about targeted drug delivery”.

Sounds like something out of Star Trek, I'm sure Spock would have approved and hope this is something that will come to be in the future. Different Strokes are a charity like the Stroke Ass but focus mostly on young stroke survivors.

Article from daily paper.

A STROKE OF GENIUS

ARTIFICIAL intelligence is set to help stroke sufferers track their chances of a second attack.

Scientists created an algorithm using data from over 41,000 patients, It will help health app Nora calculate the probability using lifestyle, health, age and weight. The spanish researchers think it may save thousands each year by identifying risk factors.

Article from daily paper.

JOHNS NOTICE BOARD

Well our first Tuesday meeting after covid lockdown brought 13 people back to the fold with an anticipated feeling of more returning for Tuesday 28th meeting. I am hoping that enough members return to restart our subs again, and also our raffle and bingo, to boost club funds again.

2. We were delighted to have received a cheque from Asda at Kings hill for £200 for their community token scheme and hope to relaunch some more nominations in the Waitrose stores.

3. As most of you know des has not been too well and is SLOWLY reboosting his vitality levels to reunite himself with pam, who is still currently in a care home in Speldhurst, as des is not strong enough yet to cope. Also mels daughter janine tells me that he had been in hospital for the last two weeks following a fall and hit his head badly. He is being transferred to a care home to be assessed for up to 4 weeks to see if he is able to return home or going to need continued care.

Just an update on brick lane panto 23rd feb we have so far got a list of 37 people going, so we have 13 more places spare,@ £50 p.p. WOULD BE GOOD BY THE END OF DECEMBER.

All those going to SANDS HOTEL Bournemouth for 4th nights fri 27th may to tues 31st may, need to pay me £30 p.p. Deposit by NOVEMBER.

XMAS DINNER this year is currently being organised at the VILLAGE HOTEL ( where we should have gone last year ) At a cost to you of £20 p.p. And will update you asap. ( thurs 9th dec 12oc for 12.30pm sit down ) I have compiled a list of people I think will be going, PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ARE NOT ON THE LIST AND WANT TO BE, OR WANT TO BE TAKEN OFF IT, ASAP. ( just text, email or phone or send word ) Ann bowie – peter & wendy fenton – richard hemsley – jean james – ann judge – mike & jackie muggridge – doreen allright – sonia nicholls – cathy ritchie – auntie cynthia – lee savage – hilary lucette – dot & tony harman – mavis & barry walker – barry fawcett – val baker – john smallbone – june dines – kitty cook – diane simmonds – pat mcquillen – sue & mick dean – bob & emma sawyer – mick barham – gerry & chriss kirrage – sandy gregory – john ward – wendy & jack abbitt = 36/ uncertain because of circumstances but invited: des & pam – tina & mick hydes – mary law – joan mount – mel morgan & daughter – marie shaw.

Lastly there are a few names on the circulation of the newsletter, for the most part more recent, that we do not hear from anymore ie – kevin malley – graham inchmore – janet sillitoe etc. If you feel you no longer require a copy of our newsletter anymore please do text, email or phone to stop having it posted. 07096789325 or 01622688475 or [email protected].

BIRTHDAYS:

11thOctober ------ mary law

16thOctober ------ les duhigg

28thOctober ------ mel morgan

1stNovember ------ sue dean

3rdNovember ------ mavis walker

MEETINGS:

Tuesday 12thOctober

Tuesday 26thOctober

Newsletter compiled by Peter Fenton and John Ward.

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aboysbestfriendishismum · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 50 - Xanadu, Donna Summer and Dave Gahan in leather pants (Part One)

The chapter is finally here and it wouldn’t if it wasn’t for my lovely friend and fellow writer and probably future wife in Rome @stars-open-among-the-lilies

THANK YOU BABY, I OWE YOU FROM HERE TO ETERNITY <3

***

In the previous chapter: as Meg suggested, Angie calls Susan and explains her problem, asking about the San Diego gig. Angie finds out Mookie Blaylock are now called Pearl Jam. Susan assures her she’s gonna call someone from Alice in Chains to come and pick her up and of all of them she calls Jerry Cantrell. Jerry goes where Angie is and doesn’t recognize her immediately since she has a new hairstyle, which by the way he doesn’t like. He takes her to the hotel where all the guys are staying, the whole gang is happy and surprised, the winners of the infamous bet are particularly happy. Angie asks about Eddie because he’s not with the others, Jerry walks her to the nearby beach where he’s surfing with his friend Craig. Angie and Eddie finally meet and from their behaviour towards each other Jerry has a sort of epiphany and figures out they’re more than friends. He leaves, hurt, while Ed and Angie can’t take their eyes off each other. Craig finally meets Angie and makes fun of Eddie in front of her, suggesting his friend should have the girl crash at his place since the whole mistake was his fault. Eddie accepts, of course, and the two of them leave for Eddie’s house, while Craig goes home by himself giving them some alone time.

***

“Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare…” the good half of my conscience repeats as I sit in the car and Eddie works on fixing the board to the baggage rack.

“Nipples, nipples, nipples…” retorts the sick part as I bring myself to take another quick look through the car window to enjoy the view of the surfer, who’s rolled down his wetsuit down to his waist, thus wearing only the bottom part of it.

Needless to say which of the two parts of me is taking over right now. If I don’t chill right now, I’ll end up answering his next question by yelling Nipples! at his face. It’s not like those were the only things to look at, I mean, there’s absolutely no lack of interesting details here, from his abs to the other muscles that… well, you know, look very well distributed, with small droplets of water trickling down from his wet hair, from the small moles on his chest to that narrow almost invisible path of hair that starts from the belly button and goes down down… Maybe I should have taken a refreshening dip in the ocean too.

“We’ll leave in a minute, ok? I’m almost done. Sorry again for all the troubles I caused” Eddie draws my attention and as I turn around I instantly thank god for my shades that are strategically hiding my most likely googly eyes, as I watch him leaning back against the car hood to take his wetsuit off completely. What did I do so wrong, or so right, to deserve this?

“Nip… No problem, I mean, where the fuck is the problem? Two extra days in San Diego, room and board and concert included, I’m the unluckiest person in the world!” I half shout across the window.

“No doubts about room and concert, don’t know about the board, it’ll probably disappoint you, I’ve got basically nothing at home” he chuckles embarrassed for his empty fridge, whereas he doesn’t show any trace of shyness as he pulls down the wetsuit, partially dragging down the shorts he’s wearing underneath within too, then slowly pulling them back up.

“Well, at least you’ve got a phone to order a pizza for delivery, right?” and to call for the ambulance I’ll soon need if he goes on like that.

Eddie nods as he takes off one leg of the wetsuit and awkwardly jumps on one foot, just like any other person would do, like I’d do, totally unconcerned or unaware, or both, of his overwhelming beauty and the effects it’s having on me.

“After we make things right with tickets and everything I’m gonna take you on a turistic tour, how would you like that?” he suggests, finally free from the wetsuit that is now in his hands and is promptly thrown in the trunk. From here I can see him grabbing a towel and dabbing his body and his hair with it and in a second I find myself with conclusive evidence to refute all theories about karma, reincarnation and past lives, bullshit I never believed in anyway. Because if it’s true that the soul migrates from one body do another to ascend on a higher plane of consciousness, how can it be that the lowest level is occupied by rocks and other so called inanimate objects? There are people out there living lives that are much more insignificant than Eddie’s towel’s right now. Eddie’s towel looks like the perfect end point once we’re free from our karmic debt, the best way to transcend existence. My spiritual thoughts, that are actually very earthly, stop when Eddie joins me in the car taking the driver’s seat, unlaced Chuck Taylors at his feet and towel temporarily resting on his knees as he’s putting on a grey Dead Kennedys t-shirt. “You don’t want to?”

“Huh? No, yes! Yeah, sure, I want to. I just, I don’t want you to change your plans anyway…”

“No plans to change really, I didn’t make plans for today” he reassures me as he towels off his hair some more.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure. But thank god you’re here and now I’ve got one: you are my plan” he half pinches my cheek and throws the towel on the backseat, right before starting the car and leaving.

“Whose car is this?”

“It’s my friend Jamie’s car, he’s lent it to me as long as I’m here, since I left my truck in Seattle”

“You left your surfboard in Seattle too, didn’t you? This doesn’t look like yours” I ask and he turns around and looks at me surprised, as if it sounded strange to him that I could remember such a thing.

“Yep, that’s Jamie’s too” he answers as he flicks down the visor to shield himself from the sun, that’s not in his eyes anymore, but is now shining on his curls revealing the lighter and slightly drier tips. I’ve never seen him so beautiful and that’s got nothing to do with the fact he was almost naked five minutes ago. He’s beautiful, of a glowing and delicate beauty, but lively, warm and somewhat wild and fiery. Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen him under California sun before.

“If you borrowed the wetsuit from him as well you got the whole Jamie set haha” the fuck am I laughing for?

“No, that’s mine, I had left it here. Also because Jamie’s 6'2’’, I’d lose his wetsuit at the first wave” he explains giggling but I honestly think there’s nothing to laugh about that image, I mean… C'MON, ANGIE, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!

“I ni… ehm, I see hehe” what have I just said?! You’re acting like you never saw a good looking guy before. Like you never saw Eddie. I mean, you’ve been friends for a while now, you even slept together, you’ve known for a while he’s hot for fuck’s sake!

“Didn’t you notice anything?” he inquires minutes later and I look at him like some husbands look at their wives who’ve just come back from the hairdresser’s and can’t see any difference. But I’m the one who changed hairstyle and I can’t see anything different in him now, except for being even hotter than usual but I seriously doubt this is what Eddie’s trying to tell me.

“Uhm… no. What?” Eddie takes his hands off the wheel and flails them around as if he was pointing at something really evident, but I still can’t understand. I try to guess: “Is it something in the car?”

Eddie shakes his head and turns up the stereo volume.

As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset, I am in paradise…

“AH! The song! Is it my tape?”

“Did you think they were casually playing Kinks on the radio?”

“It could be… You like it then!”

“Sure I do, I think I already told you”

“Yes, I mean you really like it”

“And what would the difference be?”

“That you like it so much you keep it in the car. And you didn’t even know we’d meet”

“Hehe no, it wasn’t a planned out move to impress you” he admits as we stop at traffic lights, keeping his eyes on the coast on his right. Impress me? For what?

Eddie parks his car along the coastal avenue, takes his surf board first then his wetsuit from the trunk and leads the way towards the beach. We follow a trail that dissolves in the sand and as I look down to observe once again how unsuitable my shoes are and considering taking them off, I’m almost run over by a couple of girls jogging on the beach, who immediately apologize, still running on without missing a beat. The trail starts again right behind a line of benches placed around to form an L shape under a short sycomore tree with a very wide crown. Eddie’s house is very close along the way, hidden behind other trees, some variety of pines I don’t know, a few steps from the ocean and from the coast, which I picture crawling with surfers and beachgoers during the summer, but at the same time is partially isolated, almost disguised, hidden behind this tipical sea vegetation. His house is really just like I expected it to be, maybe a little smaller, a one storey sea green house, surrounded by an unvarnished wooden fence, a not very tall hedge on the front, five steps leading to the porch and the entrance.

“Please, after you, my princess” Eddie invites me in and I focus back and see his hands are busy with wetsuit, board and keys and he’s keeping the gate open for me with his foot and I realize I should have helped him maybe? It’s too late now though… I quickly get in and walk up the stairs, while Eddie places his board down on the ground in the yard and hangs the wetsuit on the porch. His house may be hidden out but you can see the beach and the ocean very clearly from here.

“Nice view!” I exclaim as I place my hands on the porch railing and take a deep breath of the salty air of the Pacific, which is dry and light though.

“Yeah. And it’s even nicer now.” I turn around and see Eddie leaning against the door frame, hands in the pockets of his shorts, staring at the ground with a half smile on his face. He looks up soon after “Come on, get in”

“Hello…” I say as if there was someone else beside the two of us and I immediately feel stupid for that.

“We’re alone, Angie, no one else’s here.” Eddie smiles and tosses his keys on a round metal table beside the couch. As he does, he notices two pairs of boxers towering over a pile of apparently dirty laundry stacked right on the sofa and grabs them, leaving to another room. He comes back with an empty basket, quickly filling it up as he awkwardly apologizes “Fuck. Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting any guests”

I don’t care that much, I’m more focused on examining the inside of the house. Blue is the dominant color, on the two sofas, the pillows, the living room forniture, the fridge, a couple of abstract paintings hanging on the walls, even the kettle on the small stove and the cover of the sports magazine on the other square small table between the couch and the tv set. Ok, Eddie having a tv seems quite strange, but sure he needs something to watch baseball and basketball, right? Not to mention infomercials. Maybe he should move the tv into his bedroom.

“No problem, really. And I can’t see any mess. It’s a really nice house”

“Thank you. It’ll be mine until the end of the month, since I’m here I thought I could make use of it a little longer, after all I already paid for it” he remarks, walking out of the room once again with the laundry basket in his hands.

“Good idea” I walk into the kitchenette and notice the chairs around the big table are not all the same, two are made of wood painted in black, the other two are folding chairs, still black, like camping chairs.

“Wanna take a shower?” he innocently asks turning back up in the living room, once again shirtless and with another towel around his neck.

“Mmh?”

“I should take one too”

“Huh” it looks like I lost my ability to speak and started expressing myself through guttural and vowel-like sounds only.

“You can go first if you want, I’ll take one after you” he points out fiving me a perplexed look.

Sure, after.

“Oh no, don’t worry, you can go first, I don’t need a shower”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go and take your shower, I’ll just freshen up a little after you’re done”

“Look, I can wait”

“I can wait too! And well, actually I have another favor to ask you”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I should make a phone call, actually two. First call to Meg to tell her I’m fine and second call to my friend Dina”

“The girl who studies in L.A.?”

“Yep! I told her I’d have come here to California to see some friends play one of these days and we agreed to arrange a meeting on the phone”

“Ok, no problem. The phone must be somewhere behind the couch pillows”

“I’ll be quick, I promise”

“Take your time, Angie. Oh give it to me, I’m gonna go put it in my bedroom,” he’s about to go but then walks back to me and gestures for me to give him my backpack “and of course just make yourself at home: watch tv, drink something, read a book, rest a little… You can do whatever you want, ok?”

“Ok, thank you. But I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight, it’s quite big and looks comfortable” I suggest as I point at the corner sofa against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m going now” Eddie leans down right over that sofa, slips his hand between the pillows and takes out the phone, placing it on the coffee table before leaving the room.

By the way, I’m doing better and better, I didn’t even risked to say nipples this time.

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

As I thought, finding a parking spot at the airport has proven to be an impossible mission. After I’ve let Angie get out of the car, I tried to stop in front of the terminal’s entrance, but soon after I’ve been invited to move from there. I’ve found a parking space on a side road near the Coast Guard – it takes twenty minutes on foot from there to the airport, and I’ve been walking for the past ten minutes. Or, better to say, I’ve been running. What’s twenty fuckin’ minutes when I still have two days ahead of me to spend with her? Two fuckin’ days. I laugh by myself like the perfect moron I am. On the one hand I knew that she would have come here, well, let’s just say that I hoped so, but on the other hand I didn’t want to have such high expectations in case she wouldn’t have. And yet she did and, thanks to me telling her the wrong dates, we have one more day to spend together. Well played, Eddie! Had I done it on purpose, it wouldn’t have come out in such a brilliant way. While I’m walking down North Harbor I look right and left to see if by any chance Angie’s among the people that are heading on the opposite direction, even though I have told her to wait for me at the entrance, if once she had finished she wouldn’t have seen me outside. And probably she’s following my instructions, because I don’t see her, and with her new hair color it couldn’t be that difficult to recognize her even in the middle of a crowd. I like her hair – it’s like she has finally let something out that, until now, she had kept hidden… her most intimate and truest colors. And then it’s known that changing hairstyle more or less drastically often mirrors also a general change, the will to pull the plug on a past situation and start anew and, considering the unpleasant events of recent times, I think it’s an excellent sign. And, besides all that, this hairstyle really suits her. She’s gorgeous, free, on holiday, far from the duties and constrictions of everyday. The whole concept of seeing her outside the usual surroundings really intrigues me. I wait my turn to cross the street while thinking that this seems like too good an opportunity to pass up – I must do something about it, I’ve already lost too much time. I have to tell her how I really feel about her once and for all, no matter what happens after. If she rejected me I’d feel bad, but then she would go back to Seattle and after twenty days or so I’d come back too, and once back to our everyday lives maybe it would be easier to go on as if nothing has happened. Maybe.

I get to the airport and I see her sort of right where I left her but sitting on the sidewalk, her shades pulled up on her head, her chin resting on the backpack she's holding and an irresistible pouty face. She must be mad because I kept her waiting. I know how to make up for that...

“Hey, I'm here! Sorry, parking is so fucking expensive here and I'm broke, I parked like at the fuckin' end of the world.” I jog towards her and she just stares at me without talking, still that sweet little pout on her face. God, this is a big one, I'll have to use all my weapons “Have you been waiting for long?”

“No, I was inside with the girl at the desk until five minutes ago, trying to find a solution but... nothing doing” she sighs and I understand she's not mad at me.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I sit next to her.

“I can't change the return ticket”

“What does it mean you can't? Why not? I did so many times from Chicago, when my boss kept changing my shift at the last minute”

“Chicago?” she asks, her face still sad but also puzzled after my statement.

“That's where I was born, most of my family on my mom's side and friends live there. I lived there for years too”

“I thought you came from San Diego”

“I moved here when I was a baby with my parents... well, yeah, you know, with my mom and that guy, together with my little brothers. I lived here until my senior year in high school, then went back to Chicago. And then came back here once again, something like sid... seven years ago, more or less”

“So who do you root for more, Cubs or Padres?” a quick smile and worries go away from her face for a moment.

“What do you think?”

“Well you're a loser in both cases but I think it's the Cubs. You look like you've got a flair for tragedy” she twists the knife but I gladly let her.

“At least we won something”

“Not in the last 82 years” she retorts with some nerve and I want to punish her so badly. With an unexpected kiss maybe.

“We'll go back to win one day... we just have to wait for 2015, don't we? Against Miami, right?” my movie reference melts her sneering grin into sweet laughter.

“Hahaha yeah, when Miami will actually have a team”

“Anyway I can't see why you can't change the date of your flight”

“'Cause I bought the flight with a special ultra-cheap offer and I didn't pay attention to all the conditions and terms. Basically I could have changed date and destination until seven days before, only the date three days before. And it's not even refundable”

“Aw come on, fuck, just for one day! Couldn't the employee at the desk just turn a blind eye this time?” I angrily reply .

“Actually I had to change the destination too...” she explains taking off her shades from her head.

“Why?”

“Well because... you know, since I was leaving I thought I could take a few more days off and... well, I thought I could go and visit my mother... and my father” Angie fumbles with her sunglasses, opening and closing the temples repeatedly.

“Destination Boise then?”

“Yes, exactly!” she answers before I finish talking.

“And you bought another ticket from Boise to Seattle I guess”

“Non refundable as well” she adds dejected, bringing one end of her glasses to her mouth and chewing on it. And this is the umpteenth image of her I'd love to take a picture of, so I can freeze it in time and carry it with me always and not forget it. Anyway forgetting about anything about her would appear quite unlikely.

“Quite a mess”

“Basically I wanted to spare some money but I actually ended up spending a fucking lot”

“So you had to book another flight”

“No”

“Huh so you did find a solution in the end?” I ask confused.

“No, I didn't, but I didn't buy another ticket either, I can't afford it” she shakes her head, the end of her sunglasses still between her lips.

“I can lend you something”

“You?” she gives me a skeptical look and I insinctively look down at myself without a reason.

“Yes, why?”

“The same person who parked two miles away from here not to pay for a parking place?”

“Oh well, 'cause that'd have been an unnecessary expense. But you have to go back to Seattle” but do you really have to go back? You could as well stay.

“Yes, I have to”

“So? What will you do?” you can stay here with me and then follow us for what's left of the tour until we'll go back home to Seattle together. Together in all senses maybe, as a couple, why not.

“There's only one way to go back to Seattle”

“You're crazy”

“What else could I do?” although she's wearing sunglasses, I know she's rolling her eyes now as we leave the bus station.

“It's a one day long drive, even more. I know because I did. Well, by car and not by bus but it's basically the same. Except I was kinda angry and pushed a lot on the gas so it probably took me a few hours less”

“In return, you got lost afterwards in Seattle”

“Hehe yeah... anyway, don't try and change the subject, San Diego-Seattle by bus is like a hammer blow. You even have to change”

“Well, only in L.A., from there on it's all straight through”

“All straight through, on a bus, an uncomfortable and confined space. And you're even claustrophobic!” I go on as I walk beside her along sunny North Harbor Drive.

“Thank you, Ed, you really know how to be comforting. An airplane is a confined space too but the bus costs one third of the flight so...”

“But the flight lasts one third than the bus drive”

“I'm used to long journeys, it's not a problem” she shrugs and starts pulling her still long hair back into a ponytail with a scrunchie.

“I can't forget it's all my fault. To make up for that I'm gonna take you out for lunch, then we can tour San Diego”

“Didn't we tour already? You basically had to drive all through the town because of me”

“But that was a necessity, you didn't see anything nice”

“That's not true! I saw... well, first of all I saw your house”

“Ha!”

“Well, I saw the coast, the beach, the ocean, I took a lot of pictures. Oh and the Simon&Simon bridge!”

“The what of who?!”

“The bridge! As we went back to the car from the airport...” she points at the place where the bridge is supposed to be from here as the crow flies, behind the buildings “I took pictures of that too”

“Coronado Bridge”

“Yes! The one you see during the opening credits of Simon&Simon, the tv series”

“Hehe yeah. But I didn't take you to Coronado. Actually there's not that much to see there apart from luxury hotels and naval stations” I think out loud as I open the car door for her and let her in.

“Where are you taking me then?” she asks as I get in the car too and her enthusiasm is so genuine I'd take her to the moon and back. We go get something to eat instead.

“Subway?” she asks with an amused smirk as we park in front of it “A true symbol of San Diego”

“Jack in the box is kinda far from here, I'm gonna take you there tomorrow” I reply as she snaps a picture of the restaurant's facade.

“Admit it, you actually wanted to show me the Padres stadium” she jokes pointing at the entrance of Petco Park at the end of the road.

“No, I really wanted to take you to a luxury fish restaurant in Little Italy but, you know, I'm a broke slacker musician who can't afford a parking place, so...” I joke as we get in.

“I didn't offend you, did I? I was just kid-”

“No no, I was kidding too” I slip my arm around her shoulders as we walk up towards the counter to order our food.

As we devour our burgers, a veggie one for me and fish for her, she tells me about college, about the new Soundgarden songs Chris played to her and that seem to be great, about Hannigan who drives everyone crazy at work changing his mind about the mini mart set up once every ten minutes, about the croissants she bought at the French bakery in Pike Place where she went back and ate on the observation deck, without me. I'm in San Diego, at home, but I can't help having a fit of nostalgia for what has by now become my new home and for Angie herself. She's right here, sitting in front of me, closer than she's ever been, but I miss her, still, terribly.

“So... Pearl Jam, huh?”

“Yeah”

“Where does that come from? How did you come out with that name?” she inquires as she steals from my tray one of the French fries she swore she didn't want to when we ordered.

“Well, there's not only one reason and it was a gradual thing, I mean, we slowly got there”

“How?”

“We liked Pearl, Stone really liked it and sounded good to me too, also for some coincidences, but not just for that”

“What coincidences?”

“It's my great-grandmother's name”

“Really?”

“Yep”

“And she made jam?” she adds laughing and taking a sip of her coke.

“Hehehe no, at least, I don't think so”

“It's also a very cool album by Janis Joplin”

“True. And in surfing slang it's when you bury the nose of your board in the wave and either fall down or get sucked up by the motion of the wave, over and back down, spinning like you're in a washing machine””

“Hahahaha really? I was thinking it was because Earl The Pearl Monroe”

“Also”

“From a Nets player to a Knicks player, such imagination”

“And then there's the literal meaning, that I find quite interesting. Do you know where pearls come from?”

“A foreign substance like sand enters enters the oyster and to protect itself from irritation the oyster produces mineral layers to isolate it. More or less”

“Exactly. It's basically turning pain into something beautiful, an emotional/creative conflict turning a grain of sand into a precious gem”

“That's a really powerful image. And delicate at the same time”

“Something precious and delicate, born from grief”

“That's a good metaphor for art”

“Yes, that's so true” I love talking to her, I love the fact she totally gets me and what I mean every time and being able to talk about anything with her, from stupid falls when surfing to art, from the manic arrangement of gum packets at the mini mart to Cubs' bad luck, and none of these conversations sounds more corny and banal than the others. Every single subject is particular and interesting with her, every word sounds more charming and true if she says it. Food tastes better when I share it with Angie and Subway too looks nicer, the chairs are more comfy, the lamps are brighter and the peppers drawn on the counter look greener. Even Mr Big on the radio sound less boring than usual.

“Eric Martin, what a voice” she remarks as if she could read my mind.

“Yeah, uhm, not bad, not really my thing, but he's good”

“And what about Jam?”

“What?”

“I know the reasons behind Pearl now but where does Jam come from?”

“From a show by Neil Young with Crazy Horse”

“When? Where?!”

“At Los Angeles Sports Arena, last week, we all went”

“And why didn't you tell me before?? That's cool but why Jam?”

“'Cause every fuckin' single song ended up in an endless jam. And we didn't mind, I mean, it was great. As we were driving back from the concert, while we were discussing it, Jeff came out with 'what do you think about Pearl Jam' and everybody liked the idea.

“You mean Stone liked it and he gave you the permission to like it too”

“That's right, I see you know how it goes”

After lunch we get back in the car, even though this time the trip is short. “Are you takin’ me to a park so I can jog and digest Subway’s sandwich?” she asks me when she reads the sign that indicates Balboa Park.

“No, I’m takin’ ya to a park because it’s one of the most beautiful places of the city and you’ll have somethin’ decent to take pictures of”

Basically, we visit all the museums, from the anthropological one to the Timken Museum of Art: I love seeing her eyes literally shine both when she admires a painting by Guercino and while we’re visiting the exhibition about mythological creatures. I also take her to the botanical garden, where she gives me further evidence of her deep knowledge of plants, and we both agree about avoiding the zoo, because animals in captivity make both of us feel sad. After the exhausting tour I finally convince her to buy some ice cream that we end up eating sitting on a bench in front of the California Bell Tower. Angie asks me to keep her cone while she takes a picture of the building.

“Thanks” she quickly puts away her camera and takes back her ice cream.

“No problem. So, what do you think of everything you’ve seen?” I ask her in the exact moment the park’s streetlamps light up one after the other.

“It was so cool! And full of really unique buildings, each one of a different style: Baroque, Romanesque, Gothic… there’s basically everything. And the vegetation is incredible”

“… Buildings that, by the way, you already knew” I mention in a casual way, already looking forward to her reaction when she’ll finally understand where I’m going with this.

“No, I told ya that’s the first time I come here” she goes on, biting a piece of waffle.

“I know, but you knew them all the same, trust me”

“What do you mean?”

“That you already saw them, although not in person”

“And where?”

“Probably in the same place you’ve seen the Coronado Bridge”

“Huh?”

“Upon a screen” I explain, drawing a square with my fingers in mid-air.

“Wait a minute… are you really sayin’ that this park has been the set for something?”

“More or less”

“What do you mean ‘more or less’?? It’s simple, yes or no!” Angie becomes more and more curious and I love to keep her on pins and needles.

“Yes – well, let’s just say that they shot here some scenes for a movie. A really important movie”

“A movie”

“… that you’ve watched, I know it for sure”

“Oh, fuck! Which movie?”

“Guess it”

“C’mon, just spit it out!” she begs me, shifting closer and closer to me on the bench.

“To tell the truth, I’m quite surprised that you haven’t already guessed it yourself”

“Black-and-white or Technicolor?”

“Black and white”

“Hmm… It’s difficult to guess, right away… gimme a hint” Angie finally realizes she has ignored her ice cream for too long and tries to save the little drops of cream that are running down her hand. Obviously with her tongue. So now it’s her who’s having me on pins and needles.

“Xanadu” I give up and give her her precious hint.

“Like Olivia Newton John’s song?” she asks, not understanding the connection-

“Eheh no, like someone’s estate”

“FUCK, NO” she jumps on her feet and stares again at the California Tower.

“Sure it is”

“KANE’S ESTATE!”

“Well done, the answer’s correct” I finish to eat my ice cream and give her a warm applause.

“CITIZEN KANE! They shot it here?” she finally calms herself and sits down again.

“Not all of it, just the newscast scene, you remember it? There are some exterior shootings of Xanadu. Well, they did ‘em here”

“News on the march…”

“The tower, the equestrian statue of El Cid, the art museum and the anthropological one, the Prado theater and the botanical garden with the pond too” I list all the places, counting them on my fingers.

“You took me here on purpose”

“I was thinking about doing it ever since you mentioned Citizen Kane the evening of our RKCNDY’s gig. In San Diego everybody knows that they shot here some of its scenes. I remember that, when you talked to me about it, I immediately thought that, well, if someday you had come in San Diego, I absolutely would have taken you t-” I try to explain her how the idea came to me without coming out as a psycho that gets fixated on stupid details, when suddenly I get swept away by a hug, unexpected yet pleasant. Angie’s not someone who gives many hugs, she’s not physical with her displays of affection – let’s just say that I saw her displaying her affection with something that wasn’t a pat or a slap for only a couple of times, and that has never happened with me.

“You gave me a fantastic present” she mumbles in the crook of my neck, while her camera’s zoom is drilling my sternum, but I absolutely don’t intend to push her away.

“Eheh, no problem, it’s just a silly little thing”

“It’s not a silly little thing”

“San Diego’s no Hollywood, but we defend ourselves. If you had stayed here a couple of days more, I would have taken you to the Universal Studios”

“Do you wanna see me dead?” she slightly moves away from me to look me in the eyes, but still keeping me in her arms, and this moment would be perfect for a kiss. If only I weren’t a wanker.

“Nope – at least, not before tomorrow’s gig. But especially not before tonight”

“Well, am I allowed to know what’s going to happen tonight?” Angie finally lets me go and studies my face, trying to elicit some information.

“Hmmm, I can give you some hints” I answer, standing up – the bench has made my ass like a waffle.

“Ok, I’m listening”

“We’re goin’ to a club”

“A club, ok. Which one?”

“A really ugly club, I must say”

“Ok, so the bet consists in going to a shitty place?”

“Exactly, but it’s a shitty place that requires appropriate clothing. That’s why we should swing by Value Village before dinner” I extend a hand to her, as an invitation to stand up.

“Value Village? We have to wear something vintage? Oh my God, is it a themed club??”

“In a way…”

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

“What’s going on, Stone? Already tired?” says our Dancing Queen, no longer seventeen, when I signal her that I’m about to leave her alone on the dancefloor, preferring the bar to her.

“Nope, you should know that for me Saturday Night Fever’s soundtrack is the lowest point in the entire career of the Bee Gees guys!” I retort, referring to the song that the DJ has just put on after basically butchering Boogie Wonderland.

Eddie wasn’t kidding at all when he proposed us to come here: the Yates club is seriously the worst San Diego disco, or better still, it’s probably the ugliest club in the U.S. and I’m saying this just because I haven’t visited the rest of the world yet; starting with the entrance in a dark and chilling alley, where you’re forced to stay in line on a creaky spiral staircase for what seems like an eternity and where your expectations grow like crazy because outside there are lots of people waiting to get in, but then the inside sucks even more than the outside: it’s a hole where only one strobe light out of three actually works and the most lit area is the one surrounding the bar. The disco ball in the middle of the so-called dancefloor lacks a few mirrors, the ceiling is so low that if you jump on a table to dance and you’re not as short as Angie you risk to head-butt every spotlight in sight, the go-go dancers dance way worse than me (and I could easily be their son), the DJ puts the music on using CDs that constantly skip and, when they don’t it’s his mission in life to create infinite pauses in between tracks. Buuut I must admit that there’s also a positive thing: the bar is supercheap – as it should be, Jesus. On the other hand Angie’s having a lot of fun, with her giant earrings, the glasses with their red, heart-shaped lenses and an optical shirt with the most flared sleeves I’ve ever seen. And, after all, I’m having fun too, but I truly believe that I’m gonna enjoy myself even more when all the Macho Men who have lost the bet finally show up. The first of them – G.I. Dave – has come with me and Angie, and now I find him again at the bar, in the company of Jerry the Cowboy.

“Hey Stone, what are you dressed as? No, wait, you’re just like any other day” Jerry jokes, tipping his hat in the exact moment he sees me.

“Shut up, I know you’ve been having your eyes on this leopard-print vest for years, just forget it!”

It all ends up with us buying each other drinks and I can’t ignore the furtive glances that Cantrell throws in Angie’s direction, now that she’s dancing with a guy dressed in leather with a motorcycle helmet on his head. I know he’s one of the gang, but only when he spins for the second time I realize it’s McCready. Anyway, I find it unbelievable that Angie could be embarrassed for a fake slow-dance she had with Cornell in front of a couple of friends during her birthday party, but at the same time not showing the tiniest hint of shyness when she has to dance in a disco full of people. I have to admit she dances really well, but I think the vodka shots she had with us in Krusen’s room have largely contributed to this dissolution of her inhibitions. Dave and I go to have a seat on the puke-colored booths at the edge of the dancefloor, leaving Jerry intent on moping about Angie, and we meet Layne – dressed like any other day, who has decided not to yield himself to the rules of this ‘70s evening offered by this awful place – and Sean, who’s basically dressed in his usual way, with jeans and a checkered shirt opened on his chest, that however has a helmet on his head that signals his will to be the construction worker. But we didn’t know that the best had yet to come, and it has been gently provided after a couple of minutes by the trio that has appeared at the entrance of the club: on the left Eddie flaunts a light-blue suit consisting of a vest and flared trousers, with a flowered shirt underneath it and light ankle boots that unfortunately lack platforms, seeing as he seems at his usual height; on the right we have Mike Starr, with suede trousers, boots, a naked chest slightly covered by an imprecise quantity of necklaces, black eyeliner around his eyes and a colorful hairband – I can’t grasp its color because these fuckin’ disco lights make it seem like it’s rainbow-patterned; but the real treat is him, my soulmate, my Jeffrey that, besides having picked up a pair of leather trousers – maybe from the same questionable store where Starr did his shopping – has also dusted off a precious relic… his historic pink tank-top with San Francisco written in purple letters that almost got us killed that time we opened for Sahmain, when we were still playing in Green River. Is it possible to show up at a punk rock gig dressed like that? Yes, if your name’s Jeff Ament and you have massive balls.

He was also wearing dance shoes and, if my sight doesn’t trick me, I think he’s wearing them even now.

“Oh my God, Jeff! I didn’t think this tank-top still existed! I believed Danzig’s fans shredded it” I welcome him doubled over laughing when the magical trio finally approaches me and the others.

“You thought I had lost it for good, but no, it has come out untouched… unlike my face. But you wouldn’t know it, you and Bruce cut and ran!” the bass player retorts, still with a chip on his shoulder for that old story.

“Jeff, I know you love me, but take a look at me. What else could I have done? Protect you with my sarcasm?”

“What are you two talkin’ about?” asks Eddie, looking around himself in a less disgusted way than all of us, because he already knows this place but, most of all, because he’s looking for someone.

“We’re talkin’ about a nice, little story of our Green River times – there are a lot of ‘em that deserve to be passed down through the generations” I explain him while making room for Jeff on the most uncomfortable booth of the entire California.

“Neither Mark Arm is a body builder, but he took my defense anyway”

“… and he got beat up as much as you, I was just provident”

“But why did you dress up? Didn’t you bet she would have come actually?” Dave asks a fair question to Starr, who answers with a raised eyebrow.

“Dressed up? What do you mean?” he adds in a confused way and we all burst out laughing in his face “Well? Anybody cares to explain?”

“He thought – well, we all thought – you were the Native American of the Village People” Jeff shreds some light on the little mystery.

“The Native guy? Don’t think so! And it would be cultural appropriation, I’d never do it” Mike adds, making all of us immediately stop laughing because, from a guy like him that is 95% half-drunk or stoned, you don’t expect a criticism about oppression and pillaging by members of the dominant culture.

“You’re right, Mike, I didn’t think you-” Layne’s about to start a conversation, but he gets interrupted by the Pimp-err!, by the impatient Prince Charming.

“But talkin’ about the bet… where’s Angie?”

“She’s over there, near the bar, where there’s all those green and blue lights that seem floating seaweed”

“Wait… you mean over there, where there’s that girl who’s dancing on the table?” he asks me, and I’m already looking forward to the thud his jaw’s about to do on this cheap floor.

“No, Angie is the girl who’s dancing on the table”

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