#like it’s so tangible …. the other life where james lives. it’s right in his fucking grasp but he lets it go every single time.
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otrtbs · 5 months ago
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you know what always gets me? canon james having a professional quidditch career lined up for him outside of school and he doesn’t take it because he has a war to win first. and he thinks that quidditch will be waiting for him after the war. he can always go back to it. pick up the life he should’ve lived after he’s done saving the world. and you, me, us, the readers,,,,, can do nothing about this choice. we know how the story ends. there’s nothing to do but watch.
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definitely-not-a-wasp · 3 years ago
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I'm okay with a bunch of disorganized rambling honestly 😂. But if I had to narrow it down then I guess I want to know about main and side characters and how they compare to the original?
I know that tumblr is the Prime Site for disorganized rambling, but I have perfectionism issues. But that is a great question, nonnie, and I will be happy to ramble is a slightly less disorganized fashion.
When reading Maximum Ride as a somewhat-formed adult who discovered they enjoy English classes about 3.5 years ago, I noticed that JP, when writing, doesn't understand consistency. At all. Which means, in many ways, I have a free sandbox to work with.
Spoilers for my rewrite WIP, because I strongly believe that if a story would no longer be good if one had spoilers, then it wasn’t a good story in the first place.
I'm trying to keep the backstories the same, plus or minus the scientific method and a few characters (RIP my OCs. I want to bring you back so bad but it wouldn't fit with the thematic narrative). I've mostly kept their (starting) abilities the same, too. Without further ado, I'm going to introduce some WorldBuilding. (If I'm good at nothing else, I'm good at world building)
First off. Logically.
How are they getting Cable?
How are they getting internet?
How are they getting money to eat and stuff?
JP's answer: handwave it off. Sometimes you need to ignore logistics for the sake of plot. This is an answer I'd accept from an author that I like, such as Julie Kagawa, that makes amazing worlds, characters, and narratives that I will happily handwave a few things that wouldn't work in the real world. James Patterson, on the other hand, did not make any of that; he made a cool concept, some good rough-draft characters, and nothing else, and therefore this is an unforgivable sin.
Wasp's answer: They are not getting any of that.
Introducing Cottagecore.
The house is off the grid. Solar Panels and a wind turbine create electricity. They have their own well. They grow their own food, raise livestock for eggs, milk, and wool, and trap fish for meat. They get money through dumpster diving and pawning. They still have to steal half of the necessities they can’t make themselves. They do have a TV, but it can access about three channels on a clear day. Internet is only a thing when they go to the public library.
Giving the flock a background that’s heavy in farming and livestock rearing shores up the plot holes mentioned above, but in my opinion, ties the flock more tightly to the environment, thus giving them something tangible to lose when they have to leave the E-shaped house. Because they’re not just leaving a house and a safety net— they’re leaving their entire way of life with no promise of getting it back. It also gives them a tangible connection to the earth in case I want to actually pursue the global warming themes.
Main Characters
Maximum “Max” Ride (Birthname: nonexistent)
First off, I'm letting her be Latina, James Patterson.
In the original, Max was very much the headstrong, independent, action girl. Leaning into Strong Female Character (TM), but overall she had a strong, solid foundation and enough character consistency through the first three books for me to not have to just make an entire new character. However, I felt that she was, in some ways, a bit too Action-Girl and Strong and Capable. Yes, Max is incredible and competent, but she’s also fourteen. She’s a child.
In the rewrite, Max’s character is still headstrong, independent, capable, and sometimes not the best at listening to others. All of that’s the same. But she’s that way not because of girlboss energy, but because there’s no one else to do it. She doesn’t want to lead, necessarily. She wants to get some rest and let someone else handle the problems life keeps throwing at her. But she knows if she did that, the responsibility of leader would fall to Fang and Iggy, and she can’t ask that of them. She doesn’t want to place that burden on anyone else (Look, there’s a reason I chose Ayano’s Theory of Happiness as one of her signifier songs, okay?). Her narrative is very much centered around burden, and also around loss. She lost her cultural heritage when she was taken away from her birth family, she lost her childhood to being a leader, she lost a good deal of her friends to the school (RIP my OCs), she lost Jeb, and then she lost her stability. And she’s going to lose a lot more before the end of the story. So a lot of her character arc deals with learning that there are some things she can’t fix, some things that can’t be recovered. She can’t get the E-shaped house back. She can’t get her Little Baby Angel back, even after they rescue her. She can’t get her friends back from the school. And instead of working so hard to recover those or find something to replace them, she has to learn to live with that sense of loss and move on with her life without feeling guilty for leaving things behind. And she has to learn that asking for help and sharing her burden is selfish or weak.
Other changes I made that don’t necessarily fit into her narrative arc, but you asked for rambling so rambling you shall get:
Max hallucinates, because mental illness is also a prominent theme in the rewrite. She doesn’t have a psychotic disorder, but her C-PTSD causes visual/audio hallucinations, especially when she’s stressed or sleep deprived. 
Max ends up having a Gender Discovery throughout the story and goes by He/She pronouns eventually. I don’t know when, but it will happen.
As far as genetic modifications/special quirks go, she can fly faster than the rest of the flock, but not 300 miles per hour. She averages about sixty mph with diving speeds of 240. She cannot breathe underwater or shut down her organs on command. She also has the Super Special Power to predict the weather, but that’s not because of genetics, it’s because she has chronic pain in her right arm that gets worse when weather fronts change.
Her favored weapon is her trusty rebar that she picked up from a condemned building. I think she’s going to name it eventually but I don’t know what yet.
Fang (Birth name: Gabriel Xue)
In canon, Fang is characterized in early books by being the “dark, strong, silent type”. He’s probably the most reserved member of the flock, to the point of falling into the Brooding Mystery Man trope in parts of the book. They care a lot, but they’re not the best at conveying that, especially with the younger members of the flock, and at times their high empathy leads them to making mistakes. Despite the high empathy, he’s often compared to a robot due to his lack of expression and external emotions.
Well, first change is that they’re not a man, so jot that down—
If Max’s narrative is centered around burden and loss, I would probably say that Fang’s is centered around humanity and moving on. None of the flock was treated as human while in the school, but Fang was more often than not treated like a wild animal due to “behavioral issues”, and therefore had and continues to have a difficult time considering themselves real and alive, let alone human. This manifests through a several different ways— where in canon Fang definitely had a ‘fight’ reaction, in the re-write they have a ‘freeze’ or ‘shut down’ instinct. They’re selectively mute for multiple reasons (including derealization, jaw pain, the fact that they didn’t learn how to speak until they were 10, and genuinely forgetting it’s something they’re capable of), a period of Cotard’s syndrome, and a tendancy towards self-loathing and self-sacrifice. In short, Fang is still halfway stuck in the mindset that most of the flock grew out of when they escaped in the school, and doesn’t know how to move past it.
Much of their character arc revolves around not necessarily seeing themselves as human, but learning to treat themselves as human even when they don’t feel like one (or even feel real), and knowing that just because they don’t feel human all the time doesn’t mean anyone else can treat them the same. They never start easily expressing their emotions, and they’re always going to be selectively mute, but they learn to accept that those aspects of themself aren’t character flaws or signs that they’re sub-human. 
Other additions to Fang’s character include:
They don’t get their hair cut in New York. It stays long through the entire series. They have the longest hair in the flock by the end of the series, and they can wear it in so many styles.
Fang uses they/it pronouns because themes of reclaiming the weapons used against it and, more importantly, Gender.
They’re actually really good at spelling compared to the rest of the flock, because they and Iggy communicate with Print-On-Palm when they’re nonverbal, and they’re nonverbal for some pretty long stretches of time. 
They and Max have... zero romantic tension. At all. There is none. The number of times Max calls them her sibling/little sibling in the first arc alone is staggering, and that will not change.
Igneous “Iggy” (Birthname: Jamsetta “Jamie” Griffiths)
I’ve talked about Iggy before. Canon doesn’t give us much to go off of, but from what’s shown, he’s smart, sarcastic, has sharper edges than Fang and Max, and also has a sizable ruthless streak. So that’s what I have to go off of.
The big difference between Iggy and Fang&Max is that Iggy has a much better memory of the School. Most of the flock have areas (months or years) that they don’t remember, or people that they’ve blocked from their mind, but Iggy... doesn’t. So he’s the one that remembers all of the other AVIAN test subjects that were old enough to have names and identities but died due to complications. Max might have the burden of leadership, but he has the burden of memory. And that has lead to both a massive fucking guilt complex, because why did he survive when they didn’t, and, as mentioned above, a ruthless streak that he doesn’t shy away from.
Which is to say, by the end of the story, Iggy has the highest kill count.
I love, love writing Iggy next to Max and Fang. I love writing Iggy next to Gazzy and Nudge. Because, I say this with all of the love of the world, but Iggy is not a good person. He is loyalty and love incarnate, and the world can burn down if he and his siblings are safe. Max and Fang will always try to save as many people as they can. They will wonder what’s wrong with them the first time they kill and don’t have a mental breakdown about it. They are good in a way that Iggy is not. He’s okay with killing Erasers. He’s okay with killing humans. He’s okay with killing people who might not necessarily deserve it, if they show themselves as a threat or are simply in the blast radius. He knows perfectly well that most of those Erasers he’s murdering are four and five and he is okay with that, because a lot of the AVIANs were that age when they died. (Yeah, in the rewrite it’s not Fang who has an issue with Ari; it’s Iggy who wants the 7-year-old wolf-boy dead.) 
And this is, of course, juxtaposed with Iggy being really, really good with Nudge and Gazzy (especially in the beginning). Because, again, he actually remembers being a child. He remembers a lot of kids that died and is therefore fiercely protective of the kids that didn’t, as well as fiercely protective of the innocence that he never got. So he’s the one that cooks their favorite foods when they’re having a bad day, always makes time when they want to talk about something, and convinces Max to let them go to that toy store in New York because, yeah, he Max and Fang aren’t kids. They never were. But Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel can be. (And if he has to be a murderer to preserve that, then he’s perfectly okay with that.)
He and Angel don’t get along very well, though. The telepath doesn’t like hanging out with the person with the most clear memories of the school.
Other additions:
Iggy is trans and says trans rights
He also has paranoid episodes, because C-PTSD. Sometimes they’re very helpful. Sometimes they are not.
I actually decided that he’s one of the flock that doesn’t meet their parents. I know in canon he did, but I always found that very clunky because it didn’t add to his character. He was one of the characters who, until it was convenient for the plot, seemed to care the least about his family. I’d much rather give that to a character whose arc would benefit from it.
Iggy! Gets! Older Sibling Rights! Seriously, he’s two months younger than Fang, he is just as capable.
Iggy does not know braille because Jeb decided it wasn’t necessary for him to know. Iggy is also the best speller in the flock, because Print-on-Palm was the only way to talk to Fang for a solid year. Yes he mocks everyone over this.
Iggy is the only member of the flock that enjoys swimming and can take into the air from water. Everyone else in the flock is incredibly jealous.
Nudge (Birthname: Monique Robinson)
If Iggy is defined by his memories, Nudge is his polar opposite. She was seven when she left the School, but she has next to no memories of it. She is missing a lot of time in the first year she escaped. And that causes... a lot of things. It makes her feel disconnected from her older siblings, it gives her the ability to function in society in a way the other’s can’t, it lets her feel less grief over the ones that didn’t make it and she doesn’t remember, it makes her feel guilty that she doesn’t remember what she’s old enough to know. 
Basically, in order for me to keep the character of Nudge as I saw her (more extroverted, not afraid of the world, fascinated with humans like her siblings aren’t, desiring to fit in instead of isolate), I had to put a little bit of distance between her and the flock. Of course, she loves them— that will in no way change— but she’s old enough that she should remember the school (and her dead friends) unlike Gazzy and Angel, but she can’t, and she very much fears forgetting the flock if anything happens to them. So she’s trying desperately to keep the flock close and wants desperately to experience the world at the same time, and doesn’t know what to do when she can’t have both. That’s her biggest character conflict throughout the series, along with that in-between area where she’s not quite where her older siblings are but understands so much more than Gazzy and Angel, and where she stands in that.
So yeah. Nudge’s journey is that in looking for belonging in the world, in her family, and in herself.
This is why she’s one of the ones that gets to find her parent, James Patterson. 
Other additions include:
She never straightens her hair. Never. Her resources at the E-shaped house aren’t perfect, but she still has learned how to take care of her hair and has a few styles she cycles through.
She becomes the default person Max sics on people when the flock is trying to befriend them. Also their de-facto diplomat around strangers.
As in canon, she does take some time away from the flock to expirience ‘normal life’. This does not last long due to the stress of being separated from her siblings/not being able to help them and [REDACTED]
Nudge is... not the only person in her head. I’m not focusing on it much because she doesn’t actually know and neither does the flock (I don’t know if they ever figure it out during the series, either), but she has dissociative identity disorder. She’s not aware of her alter(s?). Her alter isn’t super aware of her, either. 
The alter that I’ve developed is named Oxy and is not super aware of the outside world. In her eyes, she’s still seven and they’re still at the School. She would not recognize the body as her own if she looked in a mirror.
Nudge actually leaves the flock for a while to pursue her dream of living a normal life. She deserves it. She learns how to make muffins and the basics of software development. These things are unrelated.
Gasman (Birthname: No first name, surname “Falk”)
Honestly, writing Gazzy is kind of hard for me. Partially because I’m not great at writing kids, and partially because I feel like he’s a pretty surface-level character in-series that... isn’t super compelling in canon. But even if that’s the case, I try to treat all of my characters with respect, so here we go. In my rewrite, he escaped when he was four, which was half a lifetime ago for him, so his memories are ill-defined. Therefore, he managed to circumvent a lot of the trauma that the rest of the kids have, and not in the way Nudge did, which is by creating an elaborate blockage in her memories. 
Which means Gazzy... really doesn’t know how to deal with all of this traumatic stuff happening. So much of his development turns out to be a coming-of-age narrative. Learning how to deal with the horrors of what his siblings grew up with. Learning the fears that they had the entire time. Losing his innocence when everyone around him never had it in the first place, and being so terribly alone because of it. Because, really, how can you explain such a deep loss to people who never had what he had? How can they help in a way that matters?
Also, relationship-wise, I’m slowly deteriorating the relationship between him and Iggy. Slowly. Or, changing it, at least. Gazzy hero-worships Iggy in-series, and for good reason, because Iggy is super cool, especially in the eyes of an eight-year-old, and especially when Iggy has taken care to cultivate parts of his behaviors to be child-friendly. Part of growing up is seeing the flaws in your heroes, and Gazzy has to learn how to deal with it. End of the series Gazzy is much less closer to Iggy than beginning of the series Gazzy, and neither of them are really okay with that, but they learn to live with it, because that’s really all they can do.
Notes:
I’m keeping the mimickry! It plays a bit of a bigger role because that’s how Gazzy learned to talk. I’m debating whether or not he has his own voice or if he just borrows the flock’s as he sees fit. He also uses it to scream really loudly and occaisonally burst the eardrums of Erasers.
At one point he cosplays as Jessica Jones. No you don’t get any more context than this.
He has a horrible sense of fashion.
I’m changing his name eventually because it sucks. He’s either going to change it to Gannet, Garrison, or Ivy Mike temporarily, and permanently to Zephyr. (I never said I was going to make his name GOOD, because he’s eight, but it’s changing. You’re welcome.)
Angel (Birthname: No first name, surname “Falk”)
It’s just... a completely different character, at this point. I’ve changed so many things about her in an attempt to make her consistent and act like a six-year-old and work in the whole “telepath before she has a solid sense of identity”, so it’s a different character. Also, I’m tired of writing coherently or in paragraphs, so have some interesting facts.
She has epilepsy! Super severe epilepsy! I think she might also develop juvenile MS in the future because her brain has so many scars from being a fucking six-year-old telepath. There’s no way she could get out of that unscathed.
She has more memories of the school than Gazzy, but only because she keeps accidentally reading the minds of Max, Fang, and Iggy. On a related note, she interacts with Iggy as little as possible.
The mind reading means that she has a hard time developing as a normal child with a normal sense of identity or reality. She can’t tell how much people are individual people and how much they’re just extensions of her. Conversely, she can’t tell how much of herself is actually her instead of the thoughts/opinions/identities of someone else. It’s... kinda fucked? But also super not-her-fault. 
She’s albino because white wings. Also, because I thought it was cool. This also means that her vision sucks, though. Also she has the biggest straw sunhat and the most stylish sunglasses a six-year-old can have.
She’s responsible for Max shaving her hair off.
She has the highest swear count because I think it’s funny. She’s the only person allowed to say the fuck word in writing. Everyone else can only say ‘hell’ and the occasionally ‘damn’ but she can say whatever she wants for dramatic and comedic value.
She is NOT THE FUCKING VOICE, J*MES P*TTERSON.
Honorable Mentions
Jeb
I’m skipping Jeb because of how little I care about him. He’s a little bitch, next character.
Ari
STILL HASN’T BEEN REVEALED AS AN ERASER. I’ve been writing for 50,000 words and he’s over here saying ‘nope nope not yet, not dramatic enough’. He’s had speaking lines but has refused to make himself known to Max. I am so frustrated with this seven-year-old wolf-child that I’ve already considered how I would kill him, if I decide I want to kill yet another child in my writing.
So, my main thoughts for Ari is that he... really just drew the short end of the stick in every possible way. While Jeb didn’t sign him up for Eraser expirimentation, he didn’t do anything to stop it, and pretty much cut his losses when he realized this expiriment made a wreck of his ‘perfect, unflawed’ son, because Jeb doesn’t consider children of any species to actually be humans. So, Ari really hates his dad, which makes things complicated, because he also really loves his dad and really wants his approval. 
Which means that he also really hates Max, because she’s the child that always got Jeb’s time and attention, even when Ari was human. I think, on some level, he knows that trying to tear Max down to a less-favored level isn’t actually going to help his situation— infighting for the love of an abusive parent won’t make them any less abusive— but he’s also seven, and his development is already severely stunted due to becoming an Eraser, and he doesn’t see ‘leaving ITEX’ as an option like the Flock does. ITEX is his everything. It’s all he’s ever known, and they tell him he’s doing the right thing, and he wants them to love him. He wants his father to love him. He knows that if he ever questions ITEX, his father will never love him. So it must be his older sister that’s ruining his life and being a horrible child, and once Ari drags her back down to his level, Jeb will realize who the best child is and love him properly again.
Ari, on an even deeper level, does care for Max quite a bit, because she’s his older sister and he wants that to mean something in a way that ‘Jeb being his father’ obviously doesn’t. He wants what she made for herself, and he hates the Flock because she loves them and obviously doesn’t love him. 
Ari, if anything, is the product of neglect, and both loves and hates everyone who shows a chance of caring about him. And he’s seven, so he can’t notice these patterns, let alone break them.
So. Notes!
He doesn’t look like an adult. I thought that was gross and unnecessary. He’s seven, but he looks closer to thirteen or fourteen. Still young enough that he looks like every Eraser’s little brother, and the Erasers high-key treat him like it.
On a related note, he’s the only Eraser who can talk. The others don’t have the mental capacity or vocal structure to replicate human speech, but they can understand language (at about the level of a two or three year old) and are very good at nonverbal communication. This is why Ari managed to climb the ranks despite only having three years of “service” and also looking like a tween.
He doesn’t have an expiration date because that is SUCH a stupid plot point.
I’m giving him a chainsaw! I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but he deserves to have a chainsaw and GODDAMN I will give it to him.
Emergency and Gene
The OCs that I love and also killed pre-series. They don’t have any scenes, because they’re dead, but their deaths greatly effected Max, Fang, and Iggy, and they are very commonly referenced. Their voices are probably Max’s most common hallucination, to the point where she sometimes pretends they’re ghosts that she can talk to. They’re not ghosts. They’re dead.
Dr. Valencia Martinez
I’m actually keeping her pretty close to canon— loving, supportive, the type of person to take in a gsw victim with minimal questions. The difference is that rather than kindness fueling her actions, it’s incredible guilt. She has three goals surrounding Max: Give her as much support in any way she can, teach her as much about chicane culture as possible, and never let Max know that she’s her birth parent.
(She’s probably going to fail at AT LEAST two of those, but it’s the thought that counts.)
Notes:
She has a pet fox named Robin Hood that she rescued from an exotic animal salesman that got arrested.
I think I’m going to kill her. I don’t know yet, but it’s on the table.
Anne Walker
Y’know, the fake FBI Agent. Who’s not actually a fake in my story because I hated that plot point. She’s genuinely an FBI agent who put the Flock into pseudo-witness-protection in order to build a case against the Institute of Higher Living, accidentally got attached to her prime witnesses, raised them for a few months, realized a [SPOILER] and promptly had to let them get the hell out dodge.
I really like the Anne Walker that lives in my head. She is a VITAL part of the Flock’s development, their mental/emotional recovery, and adding to their safety net to fall back on. She serves them as their first adult role model, and is the first adult to show them what parent/child are supposed to look like from a healthy perspective. Though she has several fuck ups, she becomes someone that the Flock genuinely trusts and loves, which makes it all the more difficult for them to leave when [REDACTED].
Notes:
She and Max do butt heads initially, because Max is paranoid and also afraid of becoming uneeded. This ends up being incredibly important because Max needs to learn how to live and find meaning in life without being the designated Leader/Parent/Big Sister
Anne, at one point, sits the entire flock down to teach them about consent, which was something no one ever talked about with them before. She goes in talking specifically about consent in a romantic/sexual sense (because they’re fourteen and that’s something they need to know), but quickly turns into a full-fledged no, people are NOT allowed to do that to you, what the FUCK.
She’s responsible for giving the flock a laptop. It’s because Angel is online schooled (bc telepathy makes actually learning difficult) and was therefore provided with a computer.
Anne is also allowed to swear, but only when it’s funny.
Michael “Grey” Rivers
Aka Grey from the Sewers Aka GR3Y H47 Aka Mike from the Bronx Aka Gifted Child Syndrome Incarnate Aka Would-be-in-MIT-if-his-parents-weren’t-horrible. He’s my son, your honour.
Basically, his backstory boils down to him being a genius, getting into MIT at 14, his (horrible) parents wanting a perfect child who could “make it out” of the Bronx and represent his family/neighborhood/borough to the world. When he inevitably failed their expectations due to stress, a schizophrenic-spectrum disorder that completely alienated him from the rest of his support network, and refusing to take his psych meds because the side effects were horrible and they made it harder to think (and therefore pass his classes), they kicked him out. He fully intends to go back to MIT when he turns 18 and has control of his finances/scholarships/medication/therapy.
So that’s how the flock meets him. 
Mike ends up in a very prominent support role for the flock both in technological persuits (helping them track their parents, helping them get information from ITEX, trying to disable Max’s chip and failing multiple times until it becomes a matter of personal honour—), in helping the older members of the flock figure out how to deal with hallucinations/delusions (because he’s actually been to therapy, unlike them), and in being one of the only people who talks to them and helps them without any ulterior motive. He’s not trying to build a case against ITEX/The Institute of Higher Learning, he’s not double crossing them, he’s not plagued with guilt. He just genuinely wants to help them, and they genuinely want to help him, and that’s their first introduction to a healthy, non-codependent relationship.
My many disorganized notes on Michael Rivers:
He’s from specifically Morris Heights, Bronx, NYC.
He would say that his last name is actually Rivera, but his grandparents changed it to Rivers so it would sound more English, and his family has been in America for so long that he doesn’t know much about any Latino heritage he may or may not have. He identifies as African American, not Afro-Latino. He’s just bitter that his family felt the need to change their surname to have better opportunities in New York.
Nudge aggressively befriends him pretty much the moment she meets him, bullies him into teaching her how to code, and he very quickly adopts her as his pseudo-little-sister.
His delusions in the book seemed to involve government conspiracies, but as that’s the one delusion that is proved correct in the book, I’ve decided it would be best if his delusions and reality intersected a bit less if I don’t want to write him having a manic/paranoid episode in the second scene he has screen time. So his delusions are more based on “none of this is real”, “someone is recording everything I do and setting me up to fail” and “my ill-wishes on people can and will come true if I dwell on them too long.”. Government conspiracies are one of things he is skeptical about because he thinks most conspiracies are either “CIA admitted to this twenty years ago” or “antisemitism”.
He’s taking online free college classes that don’t actually give him any college credit, but they have good information and help him feel like he’s working towards something. He plans to double major in computer sciences and electrical engineering, minor in marine biology. He’s wanted to join NOAA since he was twelve and he is nothing if not stubborn.
There you go. These are my characters, now. I have custody.
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mymostimaginaryfriend · 4 years ago
Text
one inch from the edge of this bed
♛ 5x01: James dreams about Teresa. (1.6k words; rating Mature: language, violence, sexual situations) tags: james can have some magical realism as a treat, morphine is a helluva drug
 ➢ read on ao3 or below the cut:  
(note: I originally wrote this as part of a longer story about James’ journey to reunite with Teresa, so for the purpose of this drabble, morphine is making him forget he’s already seen her...cool? cool. thanks for reading!)
James rarely sleeps deeply enough to dream. What starts as a coping mechanism in his childhood only gets cemented further by the military. Now no matter how tired he becomes, he can never quite turn off that last light in the back of his head. It’s for the best, probably. The things he’s seen—the shit he’s done. Who knows what nightmare would crawl out of the well of his subconscious if given half the chance.
The rare times he does dream, he’s usually able to wake himself up within a matter of seconds. It’s automatic now, like he’s rewired a shortcut in his brain. By the time he opens his eyes the dream is nothing more than a faint memory skipping across the surface of his mind without ever dropping an anchor.
The big, bad assassin and his built-in night light. He’d laugh if he didn’t count it as yet another valuable weapon in his arsenal.  It’s not like he doesn’t know this concession by his personal demons is only a layaway plan. Whatever he doesn’t pay for now will come due at least ten times over later.
Still, when he opens his eyes to see morning light filtered through breeze-stirred curtains, he doesn’t catch on right away. It’s not the sunshine that tips him off or the softness of the bed. It’s not the light breeze wafting through the open window, or even the dip of the mattress behind him.
It’s a sense of peace he hasn’t known in nearly a year. It’s the sound of her hushed voice, whispering his name.
“Don’t hide from me,” she says. “I know you’re awake.”
His heart leaps then plummets at the smile he hears in her words, sweet joy chased by sick panic. It’s not just the nightmares he’s been avoiding in his sleep. 
Dreaming of Teresa is an indulgence he can no longer afford.
When he left with Devon, he knew he’d need more than just physical distance between her and his new life, from what he’d have to do there and who he might have to become to do it. He couldn’t risk it warping his feelings for her.  He couldn’t let it twist his memories or cloud his purpose.
So in the last moments of his freedom, as Devon drove him away into the night, he allowed himself to hold close all that she meant to him: her innate goodness, her fierce bravery, how her eyes warmed whenever she smiled.
And then he built a room around those memories—built the wall brick by brick in his mind until they were shut away. He didn’t need a key. He didn’t even build a door. It was the only way of protecting both those memories and himself.
Leaving her meant leaving her behind.
One look at her now will undo all of his careful compartmentalization. One look at her, no matter if she’s real or imagined, will destroy those walls to dust.  He can’t get off mission, he has to stay on task, he has to—he can’t remember what exactly.  But it feels important, deathly so.
He closes his eyes and waits for the awareness of the dream to catapult him to consciousness but something is wrong. His mind refuses to obey the command.
Error: shortcut not found.
And with every passing second it’s harder to remember why it’s so important for him to resist, his urgency to awaken quickly replaced by an urgency of a different kind.  He can’t stop the hum in the back of his throat at the touch of her fingers brushing across his abdomen or how his body automatically angles itself toward the warmth of hers, inexorable like the tide.
She laughs and the sound of her joy hooks beneath his ribcage, turning him toward her.  They never had enough time.  Little things like lying in bed together, easing into the day with lazy touches and hushed sighs turned into something valuable, something to hold on to, something that’s supposed to be in a lockbox behind a fucking brick wall.
“Hmm, it’s like that is it?” she asks, voice like warm honey sending an anticipatory flare of heat up his spine. “Let’s see if I can’t wake you up.”
The drag of her hair across his chest is all the warning he needs before her lips find his and what’s left of his resistance falls away like tumblers in a lock.  There are no more walls left between them now. No air. Just heat, hands and skin so soft he can barely manage not to bruise it in his desperate need to get her even closer.
An alarm bell rings in some distant corner of his mind, but one hand has already buried itself in her hair, angling her head for better access to her mouth.  The other has slipped beneath her sleep worn shirt, fingers brushing up her ribs to the soft, warm weight of her breast.
This isn’t real.
He doesn’t fucking care.
The past year has been a brutally cold one, filled with blood-soaked ops and people he couldn’t trust.  He’s spent the last twelve months always on guard, either enacting violence, experiencing it or expecting it. To have Teresa here, tangibly safe in his arms, and so, so warm is almost more than he can take, let alone resist.
Her breath stutters against his lips and it feels like a hit of pure oxygen, like she’s reviving him from the dead.
He opens his eyes, pushing her hair back up and out of her face to take her in. She always smiled more freely in their quiet moments together, something that made him feel more powerful than any firearm ever had. Her lips curve now, soft and sweet, her eyes half lidded by pleasure and the knife that’s lodged in his heart tears a downward path, spilling all of his carefully contained emotions from the wound. His grip on her waist tightens too much to go unnoticed.
“What’s wrong?” Her eyes flicker quickly over his face, the ever present worry never too far from the surface of their lives.
He wants to reassure her, to hold onto the playfulness between them, but the ache of it makes him honest. “I miss you.”
“I’m right here,” she replies, voice barely a whisper, perhaps sensing the deadly seriousness of his words. He’s never missed anything half as much as her.  It used to scare him to think of what he’d be willing to do to have this once again. What lines he’d cross to get back to her, to this.
He no longer wonders anymore.  He knows.  The knowledge that he’d do it all over again if it kept her safe didn’t absolve his crimes.  It sure as hell didn’t silence the echo of screams in his head.
“Are you?” His voice is rough but he gentles his hand, smoothing it down her hip to lightly grip her thigh, relishing the strength he can feel beneath his fingertips. He forces a smirk, an attempt to salvage the lightheartedness, and though the slight narrowing of her eyes suggests she sees right through his façade, she concedes to his wishes with a soft smile, tossing her hair over one shoulder to lean down and nip his jawline.
“What do you miss?” she teases, biting gently at the tendon of his neck, sucking lightly at first then sharper.  “This?”
His breath catches in his throat and she hums her approval into his skin.  “Or maybe this?” she murmurs, shifting to run a flat palm down his belly, lower and lower until she’s cupping him through his boxer briefs.
He groans as she strokes him, and she smiles in delight as his hips reflexively rock up into her hand. Her eyes lock onto his, like she knows exactly what power she has over him, like she wants to see the exact moment he surrenders.  It won’t take long. It feels so fucking good that it’s only his pride that keeps him from panting.
Her eyes dance wickedly.  “Or maybe this?”
As quick as lightning, she releases him to grab at his waist, tickling in just the right spot to make him nearly levitate off the bed.
“Fuck,” he laughs, grabbing for her wrists to roll her underneath him, pinning her arms above her head. She’s breathless and beaming and so goddamned pleased with herself that he can’t take his eyes off of her.  She’s beautiful.
“This,” he murmurs, slotting himself between her legs, rolling his hips hard and slow, repeating the movement when her face goes slack with pleasure.
“This,” he breathes, as her heels dig into the back of his thighs, pressing him closer as he leans down to catch her moan with his mouth.
This, he thinks, losing himself in the hazy heat of her. This, this, this.
He senses it a split-second before it happens, like a sudden change in air pressure.  The distant urgency of his mission slamming into focus with the echo of a high powered rifle shot and the shattering glass of the window.
Fiery pain rips through his abdomen, but it's the soft cry beneath him that has him in agony.
He remembers now what was so important.  He remembers now what he was supposed to do.
“Teresa,” he chokes, slumping to the side to get himself fully between her and the window.  He's losing strength fast, barely able to prop himself up enough to assess the damage.  At first he thinks the blood covering her chest is his own, but then he sees it: the entry wound where the bullet passed through him into her.
Her eyes stare up at him in disbelief, words gurgling around the blood pooling in her throat. “James?”
He has to —
“James,” she repeats, blood trickling out the corner of her mouth, her voice growing faint.  
He has to —
“Save me.”
ao3
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angelicamerlinbarnes · 4 years ago
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To Become A Marauder...
To be initiated as a Marauder, someone must do something truly heroic and/or awesome and/or badass. The final executive decision comes down to the original Marauder James Potter. (And his life partner Sirius Black, and later Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, but nonetheless.) It’s basically the most exclusive and sought-after club in all of Hogwarts. Think Mean Girls, but with likable characters.
YEAR ONE: James [Hall of Fame - The Script]
James’ first prank made the Great Hall inhabitable for a week. A week. And he somehow evaded blame, detention, and any and all shame as he strutted down the halls for weeks after, smirking at the closed doors of the Great Hall every time he passed by.
As for what exactly the prank was, well - he made bubblegum bombs and they exploded so largely they covered every inch of the room, including the magical ceiling. Some students got stuck in the bubbles and need medical attention once they were finally fished out.
(Among these students being Sirius Black, who was so excited about all this he was practically vibrating unless Remus was touching him in some way, shape or form; Remus Lupin, who was so terrified he avoided the Great Hall for months afterwards and stuck his nose in a book to refuse looking in James’ eyes and yet always seemed willing to look at Sirius; and Peter Pettigrew, who developed a rather crippling phobia of pink that clashed quite violently with Sirius’ absolute adoration of the color.)
YEAR TWO: Sirius [New Americana - Halsey]
Sirius broke into the uniform closets and stole a skirt to wear one weekend. He and Remus were already tangibly a thing, not quite dating but still connected to each other in some inextricable way and off limits to everyone else. He wore the skirt into Hogsmeade for one of their “it’s not a date, James, it’s just two friends hanging out -” “yeah, hanging out and making heart eyes at each other and holding hands and cuddling, sure - “James.” and some asshole made fun of him for it. In response, Sirius simply raised his eyebrow and shrugged, grabbing Remus’ hand and dragging him away.
He then proceeded to wear a skirt every single day for the rest of the year, attracting the eye of plenty of students, boy and girl and otherwise with a smirk and twinkling eyes.
(Not that it mattered. No matter who had eyes for him, Sirius has only ever had eyes for Remus Lupin.)
YEAR THREE: Remus [I’d Rather Be Me - from "Mean Girls"]
(Of course finding out he’s a werewolf was more than enough to earn him the title of Marauder, but when James brought up the idea to Sirius, Sirius shot him down, saying that Remus would never want his wolf to determine anything for him. James then wanted to add him just because he’d managed to make Sirius happy and even James struggled with that, but Sirius had just grinned and taken James’ hand, assuring him that Remus would prove himself in time.)
Remus, they found out, had apparently gotten five teachers fired for their prejudices against werewolves, Muggleborns, and queer people alike simply by sabotaging their lives. Rather than picking fights with those professors, he had earned himself an A, the title of their favorite student, and then made their lives complete hell by “accident”, with subtle hexes and simple Muggle prank tactics.
In addition to the five teachers he got fired, he’s been the indirect cause of the resignation or quitting of at least eighteen others.
(When James found out about this, his jaw dropped to the floor. Peter snickered and stuffed cookies in it. Sirius squealed, threw his arms around Remus’ neck, and mumbled, “I bloody love you,” as he practically ate the smirk off Remus’ face.)
YEAR FOUR: Peter [Someone To You - BANNERS]
While far from the most outspoken Marauder, Peter is not nearly as quiet when it comes to what he cares about as he is to everything else. Starting around sometime after their very public first kiss, Sirius and Remus began to be bullied for their relationship and its resulting closeness, something that James and Peter were often helpless to protect them from.
However, following a particularly vicious prank on Sirius by some Slytherins that left Sirius soaking wet and shivering alone in the middle of the Great Hall, looking on the verge of tears as Remus stood next to him, equally wet but with some more bruises and scratches on him than Sirius, Peter well and truly lost his shit.
He climbed on top of the table and froze everyone in the room except his three friends with a fast-acting Immobulis, then spent the next ten minutes screeching about the importance of love and acceptance and being kind to others.
(Sirius dissolved into happy tears, Remus had this small sort of proud smile on his face, and James was grinning and whooping along. Peter then refused to take detention for his actions and instead spent his spare time creating and safeguarding Hogwarts’ first GSA.)
YEAR FIVE: Lily [Good To Be Alive - Meghan Trainor]
Lily took the Muggle Studies class, thinking it would be an easy A, which she could’ve used right then. Instead she found that the class was taught as if it were about animals, and got so many things wrong she couldn’t even process it.
Her first day of class, she cast a Stupefy on the teacher, walked up to the front of the classroom, and spelled every student’s books closed. She informed them briskly that she would be teaching the class from now on and that they better just fucking listen up.
(Hence marking the moment James fell in love with her, and the day he realized Severus was actually good for her, since he just smiled at her every time she told him about how “her” class went. Her addition to the Marauders was not something known to her for another year, but it was a unanimous decision on the part of the original four.)
YEAR SIX: Regulus [Blinding Lights - The Weeknd]
When Sirius ran away from the Blacks’ house, Regulus hesitated not a moment before following him. He apparated them straight to the Potters’ using their dear mother’s wand and left Sirius to fall apart in James’ arms while he made his way to Remus’. However, that’s not what earned him the title of Marauder.
No, no - what earned him the title was burning down Grimmauld Place with Fiendfyre as they left, not ever stopping to wonder whether his parents were still inside.
(They found out later they were. They didn’t attend the funeral. Regulus was found innocent because the wand used for the spell was their mother’s, so the council believed it to be a murder-suicide. Throughout the entirety of the trial, Sirius held his hand, and Regulus grinned, grinned, grinned.)
YEAR SEVEN: Severus [Cool Kids - Echosmith]
Severus was never a contender for the Marauders, even before he and Lily broke up. But when he arrived back to school their last year and strode into their compartment, the only one with any space left, with steely eyes and his wrist charred and burned, they were forced to reconsider.
Lily shot up and took Severus’ wrist in her hands, inspecting it and muttering spells to try and help, while James sputtered out, “Where, uh - where’d you get that, mate?”
Severus simply raised an eyebrow, bent to kiss Lily’s head, and settled himself in the corner next to her, answering, “Parents forced the Dark Mark on me this summer. I went to the bathroom and burned it off.”
(They all stared. Just complete, gaping silence. And then, James:
“That’s hot.”
He turned bright red. Severus smirked. Lily laughed. They were dating by the time the train pulled to a stop at Hogwarts’ gates.)
ALL YEARS: Mcgonogall
Mcgonogall would like it to be known that she is very, very, very tired.
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oh-sweet-mama · 4 years ago
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Lonely (VI)
T.W - talk of self harm, talk of suicide
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3 weeks later 7 days until the full moon Remus
The feeling of my shoulder blades cutting into my ribs, just added to the feeling of the dulcet ache that seemed to consume me.
3 weeks. 3 fucking weeks. Y/n can't stand to be in the same room as me. Let alone my D.A.D.A partner, but she somehow tolerates it.
Fully cooperating with the work we have to do, like a royal servant. Matching purple under eye bags adorned both of our faces, but somehow made her more eternal.
Over the weeks she had slowly stopped coming to the meals at the great hall, and the effects were starting to show. Her cheek bones were becoming more prominent on her face, and her usually rosy color, long faded away.
The usual radiant y/c/e's faded away to leave a monotone grey. She seemed so fragile, like a Porcelain doll, if only I had treated her that way.
So fuckin' stupid Remus.
A note hit my forehead and landed in front of me.
Keep staring at her like that she'll end up with two holes In the side of her head.
S.B
Recognizing the messy handwriting, before even finishing the note, I immediately knew who it was.
The feeling of tears pricked the sides of the eyes, but I ran out of tears to cry long ago. Instead the feeling of a dulcet ache in the chest replaced the physical show of emotions.
6 days until the full moon Y/n
My shitty diet consisted of Tea, cigarettes, and what ever my friends brought me back to the dorm. Of course I tell them that I'm not their responsibility, but they still bring me the occasional muffin or biscuit.
James brought me entire meals, of which I could barely consume the entire thing.
You have to do it you have to tell him.
No. No I couldn't. I can't risk losing someone else. He would hate me if I ever told him. Send me to the ministry, report me to Dumbledore, hell I'd get kicked out of Hogwarts.
I still maintain physical hygiene and grades. The two most important things. Can't smell and can't fail.
The ache in my chest was never there, maybe it had to do with the fact that I'm always high enough to fend it off.
First tip, the best way to get over someone, get all the emotions out, get numb, act like it never happened.
Easy, right? No. You can't just act like it never happened, he was all I had, all I'll ever have.
I just wasn't good enough.
I stopped going to parties, instead focused on my studies. One of the best in my class.
'Y/n what's your secret?'
'I don't know, uh drugs? Heartbreak? Both?'
5 days until the full moon Remus
The increasing uncomfortable pressure on my joints was almost enough to distract me from her. Almost.
I just want to run up to her and tell her everything, drag Sirius, and make him confess too. Maybe we'll all be happy together.
The imagine of the three of us happy together and in love. Clouded my head. I thought about it so much it was almost tangible.
Her daily routine trips to Madam Pompfrey had me assuming the worse. I had my fare share of bandaging up Sirius' forearms and upper thighs.
I tried to think, her period maybe? No, she's had hers for years, she would just excuse herself to the toilet.
My mind just defaulted into the worse case possible.
Suicide?
My heart thumped in an uneven painful rhythm. Swallowing a lump in my throat I hadn't even known formed I continued to attempt to let my teacher teach me the material of today's lesson.
Please be ok y/n, please, I love you to much to lose you, even though I've already have
4 days until the full moon
Tell him, tell him, he'll help you. The pain is too much, please it hurts.
I took a deep breath calming the clamoring thoughts in my head. A very dangerous place to be at this time of the month.
James was sitting next to me on my bed, the way he usually does, reading something. I noticed the title of his cover.
Lycanthropy: Everything you need to know and why their still human
"Didn't know we were learning about Lycan's in D.A.D.A." I murmured, focusing back on my own book.
"We're not, personal purpose." James answered back.
"What's your opinion on them?" I asked getting more nervous for James' answer.
Tell him, tell him, he'll help you. James loves you, he'll help you.
"There people, humans, witch or wizard, just with a condition. Doesn't make them dangerous, just misunderstood." James answered, "why do you ask?"
My eyes went wide, my pulse sky rocketing, the sudden awareness of the blood rushing through my veins.
"N-no reason." I desperately hid behind the small potions handbook from the library.
"Y/n/n?"
"Hmm? Very interesting potion here yes-"
"Wolves bane potion? How ironic, oh and your little wolves bane garden?"
My face paled, all of the blood rushing from my head into my toes.
Oh why can't I just sink to the bed and disappear?
"Very lovely flowers yes?"
"Do you, have, anything you want to tell me?" James asked causally not looking away from his book.
Oh what the hell.
"Fine! Fine!" I got up from the bed, tossing my book in the process, "I'm a werewolf!"
James froze in his spot. Before slowly lower his book so his eyes could peek above.
"What?"
"I contracted Lycanthropy ok?"
"Y/n sit down, and tell me everything, ok?" A sweet tone, of compassion and understanding, allowed me to sit and tell him everything.
3 days until the full moon
Remus
Nearing the summed of the month, a deep pit of anxiety took place, along with the increasing pain across my body. Sleep easily overcome me at any point possible, but restlessness at any other time.
Dozens of old scars, reminded me of the painful transformation. I pondered the lonely pain, that radiated through my diaphragm. Even being with one of the loves of my life, the immense feeling of being alone, was over clouding my mind.
Though James had been acting different, skittish, more than usual. He was usually found escorting Y/n.  
Again in D.A.D.A, We were granted a study hall period, in the Great hall. Books open, parchments being scratched on, quills moving from their ink pots, and light chatter amongst the tables. The table segment of which I sat was mostly empty, Sirius lightly leaning on my left side. A soft voice came by and stopped right in front of me.
Glancing up for a moment, my eyes glued to the figure in front of me. Y/n. oh shit oh shit, keep it cool Remus, don't scare her away now. Though a few seconds later James adorned her side, as usual.
2 days until the full moon Y/n
The secret was out, at least a little, an invisible weight was lifted off of my chest. Granting less anxiety about the first shift of the school year.
Actively avoiding the conversation, about where I go, or how it happened, I seemed to feel free. I guess I hadn't seemed to notice the weight of the secret I had been keeping.
It had become second nature, to harbor such a deadly illness, no harm shall come to them. I promised myself. Even if it meant lying to them.
It's better to not have them know, than having them risk their lives for something I can handle.
1 day until the full moon Remus
Y/n seemed to be getting healthier with the promotion and consolation of James. Every one needs someone to lean on.
I just wish I had been me. Maybe if I had told her, told her about my illness that seemed to consume me at times. Hell, my best friends and boyfriend knew about me long before we even started dating.
Yet 2 years had gone by and I couldn't bring myself to tell her, I was afraid of losing her. But I still did.
The day of the full moon 3rd person
"Y/n, please come with me, trust me please!" James begged to the girl, that refused any type of help. "You've already taken the wolves bane potion, and you can't hurt me. You know why? Because Lycans don't attack Animagus'"
"You're an Animagus?" Y/n whispered, just above her breath.
"Yes. Now please." James held his hand out to her, in a silent last offer of help. Y/n laced her fingers with James' and he sped off with her close in tow.
James pulled a seemingly blank piece of paper from His hoodie pocket, and let go of her hand.
"James, what are you doing?" Y/n asked in a hush tone.
A wild grin played out on James' face, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The Incantation, followed through the tip of James' wand and caused ink to spread around the parchment. Names moved across through what looked like halls.
"What is that?"
"Marauders map, shows what every one is doing, every minute of everyday, see, there Dumbledore, in his office. I was just making sure the rest of the marauders were on their way and was no one coming."
"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?"
"Yea you'll see, come on now." James snatched Y/n's wrist and ran, taking her out of the castle and towards the shrieking shack.
"James the willow! Be careful!"
He continued to tug the girl behind him.
"James!"
"Hurry, there almost there." Reaching the edge of the field where the whomping willow resided, James stuffed the map back into his pocket.
"James? What the hell, where were you?" The rest of the marauders came out from behind a group of trees, "and what the fuck is she doing here?" Sirius snapped
"Can I tell them, Y/n?" James asked.
"I will," y/n replied in a hushed tone.
"Tell us what! You're dating?" Sirius scoffed.
"No, I-I'm a werewolf, a Lycan, a lycanthrope, whatever you want to call it! James said you could help me, last time I went to my usual spot, I fractured both of my legs and laid in the middle of the forbidden forest for 3 days"
Sirius paled out, and looked back to Remus.
"If you want me to go, tell me now, I've taken the Wolves bane potion, it's only a couple hours hike into the forbidden forest."
Remus felt his heart drop, then a deep ache. How long? I guess she also had no right to tell me, just as I never told her.
"No, Y/n stay, let's go inside." Remus said, sincerity laced into his voice. Her face softened.
"Where?" She asked.
Remus pointed to the willow. Her face paled.
James headed over to Peter to discuss who would stay outside in case anything went south. Sirius looked to Remus.
Remus took a few hesitant steps toward her. Before reaching his hand out offering her safe passage. Instead she swooped in gently under his arm.
Remus' heart swelled, maybe she does still love me after all.
1888 words
Ahhhahahahhah
It's finally coming together baiwbsiaiensl
-Kal
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buckyreaderrecs · 5 years ago
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Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power: Chapter 4/?
Summary:  Nobody knows about your power. You’ve never really wanted to use it, let alone hurt someone with it. But, someone has figured you out, and now they’re following you. There’s only one place you can go for help - The Avengers. Good news is they’re good people. Bad news is your power is entirely relevant to soft, sad, recovering, broody Bucky Barnes. Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. 
Chapter 4: You have to leave behind the life you knew. 
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, possible future smut (who knows, not me), mutual pining, reader has powers / enhanced!reader, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters
Notes: I haven’t updated this fic in months and monthssss. Let me know if there are any continuity errors, and if this is still a fic worth me plugging away at. Thank you for any and all support! xo Rhi
Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power Chapter 4/?
There was nothing comforting about having Stark-employed agents tailing you. Logically you knew that besides maybe a well-placed and patient sniper, nobody would be able to get close enough to hurt you. Not with spiders and witches and falcons watching over you. Certainly not with the last remaining Howling Commandos on your side.
Although you couldn't see him, even when you tried to covertly spot him, you could feel Bucky. You could feel him watching you and you knew it was him because it wasn't like before. It didn't make you feel sick with dread.
All of that was probably in your head though.
More tangible aspects of the situation were the beads of sweat rolling down your spine and pooling in the small of your back. Very real was the awkward pace you were keeping - definitely faster than a casual walk but a solid attempt to appear calm and normal.
It had been decided that you would walk the entire way home. It was doable, but you'd usually catch the bus. The people who wanted you would have to see the future to know when and where you'd catch a bus, but that wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Not anymore. So, you walked for 40 minutes.
Unless he wanted you to see him, Bucky Barnes was invisible. He'd always been good at camouflage, but programming by Hydra included 'how to disappear 101.' And under your power, it was like that again. Not a single soul saw Bucky as he followed you block by block. There wasn't even a gust of wind left in his wake to alert people that someone… something, had gone by.
Entirely focussed and keen eyed, Bucky watched your strange gait. If there was no power clouding his mind, he would have smirked a little; even Hydra couldn't take the sass out of him.
After he climbed through an unlocked bedroom window and landed on the floor behind you, Bucky stood up straight at attention. You were on your hands and knees, pulling things out of the bottom of a closet. There was a duffle bag in there somewhere, you were sure.
"Yes!" you whispered to yourself, standing and spinning around. The yelp that escaped your mouth sounded through Bucky's earpiece to the other Avengers situated in, on, and around your apartment building.
"Buck?" Steve asked, muscles already poised to move.
"Package is safe," Bucky replied, no emotion in his voice. The lack of it went unnoticed by Peter Parker - who was still too new and in awe to know Bucky beyond reputation and limited interaction. He didn't mean to, but Bucky had avoided Peter; he reminded him too much of pre-serum Steve. However, Wanda, Sam, and Steve all heard the tone, and all frowned to themselves from their respective positions. Nobody did anything though.
"You scared me," you said as soon as you yelped. When he didn't move, speak, or even shrug it off, you were reminded of your spell. A small, sad, "Oh," was uttered. "Stop. You can stop your… mission," you ordered him.
It didn't work. Maybe it wasn't specific enough. Without a lot of practice, you really weren't good at using your power when you actually needed to. You realised that you shouldn't have given Bucky a complex and prolonged order in the elevator.
"Ah… Relax. Be yourself…?" you tried. Bucky's blue eyes simply remained fixed on you and he went to speak, but you cut him off. "Oh! Ignore my previous order. Do not… feel compelled… to… Fuck. What did I tell you to do?"
"Make sure I get to my house safely. Help me get what I need, and bring me back here," Bucky said, repeating your command word-for-word. It was unnerving.
"Yeah… Don't… Don't do that. Unless you want to. Only do that if you want to."
When his posture gave (by only the slightest amount), you breathed out. It had worked, but you weren't sure exactly which part.
"Bucky?" you asked gently. Bucky smiled and it felt like rain in a drought. "You okay?"
He nodded, being much more used to giving non-verbal responses. Sam's voice was in his head though, encouraging him to speak, pushing his recovery forward faster than Steve's love alone could do. "Yeah, I'm fine…"
You could hear it in his slow drawl- that slight cognitive lag people sometimes experienced after your power left their minds and they were free again.
"I'm sorry,"
"No, darling', you don't have to keep saying that. It's alright,"
"But-"
"Please," he interrupted. He shook his head slightly, but it was enough for you to see he didn't want to talk about it. "You did good,"
"I just… walked," you replied.
"Yeah, but that isn't easy when you think someone's about to kill ya,"
"Wow. Reassuring. Thanks," you said sarcastically, moving around him to put the bag on the bed.
Bucky chuckled, then sat down next to the bag.
"Aren't you gonna, like, check the cupboards and stuff?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Christ, how unprofessional do you think we are?" From the dresser you were digging through, you looked over at him and shrugged in confusion. "Stark had people in here as soon as he figured out where here was,"
"Guessing that was pretty quick?"
"Yep," Bucky replied, popping the P sound purposefully.
"So, random people have been going through my stuff?" Looking around, nothing seemed out of place. It was unnerving, actually.
"Not random. People Stark trusts,"
"Do you trust them?"
But he hesitated and he saw that you'd seen. He couldn't but smile a little. "I don't not trust them."
Thinking for a couple seconds, you decided on, "Probably fair…"
Bucky nodded, and you continued to pack. He decided it wasn't worth telling you that in the very early hours of the morning, after the city was asleep and just before the sun woke up, he'd gone to your apartment too. Clues in the cupboards. Secrets under the seats. Anything really. Steve had been awake when Bucky slipped out. He'd thought maybe Bucky was checking for Hydra. Or possibly, Steve hoped, his best friend was driven by the fact that you looked a lot like a couple of the girls Bucky had charmed before the war meant anything to them.
Bucky followed you as you went room by room, filling the duffle, then a backpack, then an empty shopping bag.
"You planning on never coming back here?" he asked, mostly joking. When you stopped, moving like a deer in the headlights, Bucky realised. "Oh…"
"Am I? Am I coming back?" you asked, on the cusp of hopeful. The glimmer of it in your eyes killed Bucky.
"I don't know," he answered, voice a little too soft to be comforting.
Looking around your apartment, you tried to look brave. "I guess… it doesn't really matter. Hadn't really built much of a life anyway,"
"Of course it matters, Y/N."
Before you could say anything else, there was a loud knock on your door, followed by the shrill voice of your neighbour. "Y/N?! Did I just hear ya come home?! Where've ya been?!"
You and Bucky turned to each other at the same time, both expecting the other to do something.
"She's not gonna go away," you whispered.
"Make her," Bucky said.
"I don't want to use-"
"No," Bucky interrupted. "Just talk to her…" His tone implied the 'obviously.'
As soon as you swung the door open, Barb went to step in.
"Ah, sorry, Barb. Bit of a mess in here… Did you need… something?" you said, stopping her.
She eyed you suspiciously, tried to look past you. "You didn't come home last night,"
"Stayed at a friend's,"
"That's lovely… Which friend? That nice Lisa girl?"
"No, um, new friend. James."
Bucky almost laughed.
"A boy? I didn't realise you were dating." She emphasised the last word like it was taboo.
Normally, you'd be better at dealing with Barb; she meant well, but was incredibly nosey. Normally, you didn't answer all her rapid-fire questions immediately, but you were nervous.
"It's not like that. He's just a friend,"
"That you spent the night with,"
"Barb, it's 2020. We can be friends with guys now,"
"So defensive, Y/N! Must really like him," she said with a knowing smile.
"I'm just on my way out, actually,"
"Such a social butterfly all of a sudden. I was just coming over to see if you're alright,"
"I'm alright. And I appreciate it. I really do. I'm just… a bit busy right now,"
"Alright, alright," Barb said, holding her hands up in surrender. "I know when I'm not welcome-"
"No, Barb, it's not-"
"No, no, it's fine." She took a step backwards.
"Barb-"
"When will you be home then?"
Fuck.
You tried to look over your shoulder into your apartment as casually as possible. Glancing at Bucky, all he could offer was a shrug. You realised then that you would have to lie, really lie.
"Actually… Might be gone for a while. Got family upstate that need me."
Barb was quiet for a second, searching through everything she knew about you. "I hope everyone's alright," she settled on. She wanted to say that she didn't know you had family upstate… or any family at all, for that matter.
You'd lived in the apartment complex for five or so years. Barb had always looked out for you, especially since her kid went off to college. She'd met a couple of your friends, heard about work, but never once had you spoken about family. Barb hadn't pressed, although she very much wanted to. Something inside her was keeping her from doing so.
"Yeah, yep… They will be," you replied, nodding.
"Okay… Well, you'll have to come over for tea when you get back?"
"I will. Thanks, Barb."
She left.
Bucky watched you close the door, lock it out of habit.
Your eyes were full of tears. "I can't come back here," you whispered to him. "If someone is after me, I can't bring them here,"
"They probably already know where 'here' is," Bucky replied, almost immediately knowing it was the wrong thing to say. "But," he quickly added. "If they were gonna do anything, they'd done that already."
Bucky didn't believe that to be true at all. More likely, the people following you, upon discovering your sudden disappearance, would try to draw you out. If they knew Barb was a friend - it could make her a target.
You watched Bucky's expression. You read the lie. You didn't need to force the truth out though. You let the fact that he was trying to reassure you, reassure you.
"We'll keep surveillance here."
You nodded, moved slowly to continue packing.
Bucky stayed quiet, watched, tried to remember all the details of your apartment. Maybe they'd come in useful at some point.
"Okay, I'm ready," you announced.
"There's a car downstairs waiting for you," Bucky said.
"You're not coming?"
"I'll go out the way I came," he answered. When you didn't move, he added, "You'll be okay… Steve and everyone… they'll look after you." He wasn't lying that time. "Go."
Slinging bags over your shoulder, you nodded and left Bucky Barnes in the apartment you would never return to.
What would happen to the rest of your stuff? Would Stark pay for a storage unit? Pay your rent? What about work?
By the time you got to the car, you were again, on the verge of tears.
Upstairs, from a window of your apartment, Bucky watched you leave. He made a note to tell someone to teach you not to get into cars without checking if it was safe first. You hadn't even asked to see the driver's ID.
"She's aboard," Bucky relayed into coms.
"Copy that," Steve's voice came back. "Buck?"
Bucky was in his head.
For longer than Steve liked.
Chapter 5 is coming soon...
Tag list for this fic (open): @animegirlgeeky @brighteyedmichelle @howthehellisbucky @bitterstar88 @thatweirdwalangpake
Tag list for all my work (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @fairislesheets - still won’t let me tag you?
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keyofjetwolf · 5 years ago
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Mostly, you’re drowning.
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I won’t go so far as to say that the dynamic of the Horseman family is, on its own merits, particularly unique. It’s almost mundane, really, when you distill it to its most basic points. Beatrice and Butterscotch are your standard class romance staples: her, a bored and dissatisfied debutante, him, a blue-collar aspiring writer with dreams of The Great American Novel. They’re attracted to each other for barely any reasons that have anything to do with who they actually are, they have a fling, she becomes pregnant. They decide to get married and raise the baby, they soon come to hate the situation they’re now in, hate all the choices they make to try and force it all to work, and very possibly hate each other but definitely, at least on some level, hate their kid for “doing” all this to them.
Nothing unique, but that in no way makes it uninteresting, and I think it’s especially tragic and fascinating, the moments where you catch a glimpse from the corner of your eye, can make out the possibilities in the shadows, of what they might have been if they’d maybe just tried.
I’m not sure how much thought I’d have given to the Horseman family as a unit in this episode, even with BoJack’s mentions of his father in his eulogy, without the opening scene. I think it’s part of the episode that’s easily lost in the rest of it, and that’s understandable as it not only comes before the credits, but it feels at first glance to be completely out of step with the rest of it.
I argue, though, that it’s NOT, and is actually more in line with the rest of “Free Churro” than outside it. More on that at the end of this post, I promise I’m going somewhere with that. But first, the beginning.
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We open with BoJack at an age we don’t usually visit him. I’d guess maybe about ten here? Maybe twelve? He’s young enough to be left on his own after soccer practice, sitting and shivering in the chilly autumn evening while he waits for his mother to pick him up, but very much still a child.
(Hey, anybody else ever get those sinking feelings, when their parents were running late to get you, that they weren’t ever going to show, and spend the time you suddenly found yourself surrounded by trying to figure out what you were going to do next when they just never came to get you? AHH MEMORIES.)
When someone finally shows up, it’s his father.
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This is probably the longest we’ve spent with Butterscotch, at least, when it’s actually him and not him playing out some James Dean role he wants desperately to believe is him. He’s brusque and awful, and BoJack is DEEPLY uncomfortable around him from the second he gets in the car.
What I think is most important about that, though, is that Butterscotch, for all that he sucks, IS THERE. We can follow a lengthy rabbit hole down WHY, exactly, he’s there (personally, I think it’s so he has a reason to stop “writing” with a handy scapegoat in BoJack, but it can be many things), but of all the places we go, of all the things BoJack will talk about in “Free Churro”, the only one ACTUALLY THERE is his father.
And I think that’s one of the key points in BoJack’s relationships and regrets when it comes to his parents. His father, for as much as he might have liked to envision himself a deep and contemplative man, just isn’t. He’s laughably surface and simple, hating the things he’s learning about himself day by day, and turning all that self-loathing on the world around him.
SOUND FAMILIAR? Yeah, it should, it’s not really going to huge lengths to hide that. BoJack IS his father. More self-aware maybe, considerably more clever and thus with a greater capacity for cruelty, but his father pretty much through and through.
Which goes back yet again to the point about his father being a solid, tangible presence for BoJack, which I think is an incredible way to highlight the tragedy he’s attempting to process in his mother’s death. He spends all of this time and energy in trying to puzzle out what his mother’s last words, “I see you”, could mean.
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Meanwhile, BoJack’s father left behind an entire novel. “Maybe he thought it would vindicate him for all the shitty things he ever did in his stupid, worthless life,” BoJack says. “Maybe it did. I don’t know. I never read it.” At the end of the day, BoJack doesn’t actually care what his father has to say, what he thought, how he felt. There’s nothing in Butterscotch that, for BoJack, holds the spark of what might have been.
Not like Beatrice.
But then, Butterscotch feels so differently about Beatrice, too. As BoJack is telling us about the parties she’d hold every week, it’s the only moment of wistful fondness he actually demonstrates. When Beatrice would dance, even Butterscotch would emerge from his study to watch, all of them separate, but bound in that moment, and as BoJack talks about it, for a moment, he loses himself in the memory. Still we never see her. Just the faintest impression of her. That’s really all she left him.
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It’s the one time BoJack talks about them as something united, something approaching family,and it’s to say how they’re all drowning. It’s twisted and wrong that that’s a bit sweet, but given what we have to work with, I can understand. But I think he’s wrong, or at least, not entirely right. I don’t think they were drowning together and didn’t know how to save each other, I think they were drowning, and taking each other with them.
There’s very little I’m willing to give to BoJack, but he’s due this: he was a child. It wasn’t his job to save ANYONE.
But I do think Butterscotch and Beatrice were drowning each other, each clinging to what they had, unwilling to let go and save themselves, or allow the other even try. It surprised me, then, when I went back to rewatch this, that I found the faintest glimmer of remorse.
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When Butterscotch retracts his blame for Beatrice, says that she’s doing the best she can, and that she’s doing the right thing by teaching BoJack so young that he can’t rely on anyone. Oh he never for a second thinks to assure BoJack, fuck that noise. But, even if just for a moment, Butterscotch tries to lift Beatrice above all this, and it legitimately surprised me to see. It’s such a tiny, almost minuscule drop of misfortune in all this, but it makes me think that Butterscotch and Beatrice could have pulled out of all this, that they could have made their lives different. Maybe not what they originally wanted, but SOMETHING. That they might have been able to be happy, if they’d figured out how to try for it.
Which brings me back to what I said in the beginning, about this opening not being so out of line? This isn’t just Butterscotch going on some wild rant, this, like with BoJack, is a journey. This, too, is a eulogy for Beatrice, it’s just forty or so years early from Butterscotch.
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It’s good.
Down one sandwich, but up one churro!
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some-mad-lunge · 5 years ago
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Answers - Michael Guerin Week AU
Okay this is WAY off the fic prompt which is Drunk and Disorderly. I started imagining Michael being the exact opposite of that. Which made this AU come out in a weird jumble. So yeah...sorry! (Also it’s stupid long. Again. Sorry)
👽 👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽
To say Friday nights at The Bunker were rowdy would be an understatement but Saturday nights were like a second coming of hell. Michael did not have two masters, one in engineering and the other in biodynamics, to deal with this shit. But needs must, and plying officers with alcohol while they held up the bar was a gateway to information. He took in every tidbit, worked out shift schedules and even swiped one security pass from a dubious looking corporal. After two months he was so close to getting inside that he was antsy, that much closer to some answers about who he was and where the hell he was from. He tried to remind himself he’d waited 28 or so odd years, that he could wait just a little bit longer.
***********
He’d done a decade in the foster care system, he knew a thing or two about biding your time and protecting yourself. You move when the moment is right and you keep your fucking head down.
It was easy to go unnoticed in most regards. Everyone in this town either worked for the military or made their living off of it. No one questioned what was going on behind the chain link fences or deep in the desert too barren to visit. No one bothered to look to closely at the man sliding them drinks. Especially when it was really easy to slip into their mind and erase yourself completely.
Michael would have made an excellent spy, probably would have given James Bond a run for his money. Fact was he’d much rather be the Q in the situation, but once again, needs must. So he watched and he clocked and he made himself as unassuming as possible.
So as Saturday nights went it was loud and obnoxious. Clearly there was a new brood of recruits, some battle scarred, some probably with their virginity still intact, but all happy to have been selected to work at one of the most prestigious and secretive bases in the US. Michael scanned them all, none of them would be any more than grunts. None of them had a fucking clue what was really going on and therefore weren’t worth his time.
But he’d pour their beer and serve them army themed burgers and wait for his opportunity.
What he didn’t expect was the package said opportunity would turn up in. Or how it would unravel every plan and belief Michael held dear.
What was it they said about mice and men? They should have included aliens in the mix.
*********
It was second nature, every time a new body came through the door his mind scanned them. He didn’t even have to look up, he didn’t have to stop what he was doing. He’d know in a few seconds what he was dealing with. It got to the point that he probably let his guard down too much, that’s why this one had affected him so much. Or so he told himself.
It was the end of the night, most had cleared out except for a few men leaning on each other nursing the dredges of their beer. Michael had done his share of the clean up and was going to kick them out on their asses in a few short moments. He’d heard the door open, his mind doing what it did until he was hit with a wave of something he’d never experienced before. It was desire mixed with pain, dark and light. Secrets in shadow mixed with laughter and contentment.
He could admit to being shocked, instinct telling him in some way whoever had just walked in held the key to something vital. Something tangible. Until he turned and met brown eyes.
Then Michael learned the true meaning of being knocked on your ass.
*******
The thing was he’d never bothered to look for the other two kids he was found with over 20 years ago. He wondered vaguely if they all had the same made up birthdays on their drivers licenses. He’d occasionally get a memory of giggles and mischief, but then pain and fear. He didn’t know if they were alive but somewhere inside he knew that was a lie. He’d know in his bones if they weren’t.
They’d be together again someday, of that he was certain. But Michael felt like he needed to have the answers before he met them again. He didn’t know why, but the why had been what he’d spent most of his life searching for.
********
He didn’t have to wait long before he saw those eyes again. He’d been too stunned to do anything but nod as the man mumbled apologies for his intoxicated soldiers and then shuffled them out the door. He noted the name Manes as one drunkard shouted it with delight. He’d seen that name before but he couldn’t quite put his finger on where. He went straight home and used every contact and dark web access he had to find out more.
Staff Sergeant Alexander Manes, from a family of military servicemen. More importantly his father was Jesse Manes and the rumours that swirled around that name had Michael buzzing with excitement. This was a window of opportunity he could not pass up, he just had to figure out how to get an in with the Staff Sergeant.
He didn’t expect Alex to make it so easy, and so fucking complicated.
********
The first time Alexander Manes talked to Michael he felt it in his dick. He politely asked for a beer on a rather dull Wednesday night and the sound made Michael’s knees weak and his pants tight.
Thoughts of seduction hadn’t entered his mind as a viable option until he smiled, got a lick of pink lips and heated eyes in reply. Michael had done that before, used his charm and body get him the answers he needed. It had never been a hardship, he never jumped into bed with anyone he didn’t want to. If it turned out to be more than beneficial for him in the long run so be it.
The fact was with Alex it hadn’t been anything but a need from the start. He told himself it was answers he was after, but he wouldn’t let himself admit it was all the wrong questions.
**********
He made sure to run into him at the gas station, at the grocery store. Casual head nodes, one blinding smile and a wink for good measure.
It was the wink that must have sealed it, gave Alex the green light. You always let them come to you.
That night when Manes had walked in Michael got the same jolt, only this time it was more than heat. It was like shooting stars and swirling cosmos.
When he handed Alex his beer he casually mentioned he was off at 11:00. He held the bottle a little longer than necessary, felt the soft rub of skin as their hands met. It was warm and soothing in a way he didn’t expect.
They ignored each other for the rest of the night. At least Michael attempted to, but his mind kept going back to him. Searched him out. Wanted to settle in and stay a while.
*********
He broke all his rules that first night. Never take them home, never let them in. Guard up Guerin, at all times, at all costs.
Rules are easily forgotten when your shirt is scraping against plaster and your mind is deliciously blank of anything else but how good Alex feels in his arms. He’d never been one for making out, not since he was a teen. With Alex he’d have happily stayed pressed in the shadows, night sky lit by the moon as they teased with lips and tongue.
If this was the preview then the main act would probably end him and he kind of liked the idea.
So he pulled and he shoved as they danced to his Airstream parked in the far back of the parking lot. He needed walls and a flat surface with Alex’s skin on display.
He wouldn’t realize until later how dangerous that had been. He forgot himself, forgot everything. Because they moved and they moaned, they laughed and they smiled into each other’s mouths.
When it was over they curled around each other, limbs and sheets tangled. He whispered stay and got a contented sigh in return.
The one thing he should have realized was that they’d never shared their names and yet still they’d been whispered and gasped into the night.
That should have been his first clue.
**********
When he woke up Alex was still there, dark hair messy and the only word that came to mind was adorable. He’d never felt fond of anything in his life. He’d never felt this way before.
So instead of using his advantage, the openness of a sleeping mind and the time to explore it, he pressed closer and breathed.
********
They were dating, which was sort of the most bizarre experience of Michael’s life. Not so much the making each other dinner or texts asking how is your day? No it was the openness of affection, so easily given, so easily received. It was missing Alex the moment he was out of sight, the flood of relief when he was near.
They spent most of their time at Alex’s apartment, after a few weeks Michael felt like a different person. Was this what it was like to be normal? To be human?
He let himself forget why he’d started this. He let himself sink into the warmth of Alex and belonging.
********
They were both secretive in their own way. They didn’t talk about their pasts or their families. Which was a godsend. Michael should have seen it for what it was, both holding each other just far enough away.
Just in case.
**********
It wasn’t until he’d gotten a message from a deep web contact that Michael remembered why he’d come here to begin with. There was info on Jesse Manes and two suspected aliens living in Roswell. When he opened the attachments and saw their photos he knew.
His family.
************
Michael started to work more then, tried to make up excuses as to why he couldn’t see Alex. He was walking a dangerous line.
He didn’t want to use Alex, not anymore, but he also needed this all to be over. He didn’t want to pretend to be nothing but a bartender for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to pretend anything.
Michael had never wanted anyone to know him before, all of him. Alex hadn’t been part of the plan, and now he was the only plan Michael had left.
*********
It felt weird to show up at Alex’s door with a bottle of wine and an apology on his lips. He knew why he was here, he had to take what he needed and then say goodbye. He couldn’t let himself think about it, couldn’t let himself fall back into the comfort and warmth and this.
Alex didn’t even make him pay for the distance, just wrapped him in a hug and whispered I’ve missed you. Fed him dinner and kept looking at at Michael like he was all he’d ever need in the world. He kept telling himself it was okay to accept it just one last time.
Maybe it was that knowledge, knowing he’d never have this again. Alex above him, Alex below him, Alex buried so deep inside in every way possible. Maybe that’s why.
The plan crumbled fast when he was so close to the edge he wanted to cry, Alex’s fingers digging into his ass and his eyes unwavering. Maybe it was the words I love you kissed into his mouth that had him losing control, falling apart, finally letting go.
Michael had never let go before, didn’t know what it could do. Didn’t know what it would mean.
*********
Alex was still wrapped around him, eyes laser focused and wary. The bed had thumped hard to the ground shortly after the pictures had flown off the walls. If he wasn’t mistaken the lamp beside the bed hadn’t been shattered into a hundred pieces just a few moments ago.
Michael?
Alex wasn’t scared, just questioning. That look in his eyes was still there, those whispered words still meant something. Somehow that was more terrifying to Michael than the truth.
So he ran.
**********
Less than an hour after leaving Alex and his destroyed bedroom behind he was driving his truck and Airstream down the darkened highway. He’d wasted months of this life and never got any closer to the answers he’d been searching for.
He thought of Alex’s hair damp from the shower, of lazy Sunday afternoons draped over each other on the sofa and teeth biting into Michael’s shoulder.
The answer he never got to give.
I love you too.
*********
He ended up in Roswell. He didn’t have anywhere else to go and it felt like the only way to close the chasm in his chest. Part of him was missing now, he needed to fill it with something.
He’d barely crossed the city sign when he heard her in his mind. She was sassy, a little bit beautiful and she told him it’s about damn time. It was the first he’d smiled in weeks.
Maybe it should have been awkward, they didn’t really know each other. But it wasn’t. They understood him, they welcomed him in and he thinks they might have even love him a little.
He was more powerful, Max and Isobel only started really investigating their abilities a few years prior. Neither of them had telekinesis, but his sister (as she called herself) had weaker telepathy skills. Their first order of business was to make those stronger. But his brother (as Michael liked to tease him) had a healing ability that Michael had never felt an inkling of.
Both of them were in committed relationships with scientists who accept them, knew the truth. At times he felt like he had more in common with Liz, Max’s wife and Kyle, Isobel’s husband. They spoke his language, sometimes they’d get in friendly arguments over theories and Michael felt understood for the first time in his life. He had a family, he had friends, people who knew what and who he was and didn’t run scared.
It wasn’t until he was alone under the stars at night that he could feel the hollow space where Alex was supposed to be.
*********
It had been a month of feeling each other out, sharing their pasts and their experiences. Until they all sat Michael down and decided to share what they were working on.
The danger they were all in.
Thankfully they had a lifelong friend on the inside, someone who was close to getting pieces to their puzzle. A man who Michael already knew was the exact opposite of the father that hunted them.
Liz insisted he was the kindest soul she’d ever met. Max called him a good guy. Kyle called him family. Isobel called him her best friend.
You can trust him.
If only they knew.
**************
It was fireworks and a gasping ache when Michael felt Alex walk into the Prancing Pony. His skin itched in an instant, he wanted to rub up against Alex like a cat, curl in his lap. He wanted to push him down on a table and remind himself he was alive. He wanted to hold that face in his hands and rub their noses together.
Instead, he gripped his beer tight and expected a punch to the chin that never came.
Alex’s eyes were blank, like he didn’t know Michael at all. Like weeks ago he hadn’t kissed salsa from his lips or slept with their feet intertwined. He shook Michael’s hand, polite and indifferent.
Isobel has told me a lot about you.
Then he turned away and acted like Michael wasn’t even there. He would have appreciated the punch more.
**********
So he cornered him in the bathroom because Alex Manes breaks his brain. He doesn’t think or function properly, he just needs to be alone with him.
Alex sighs, leans against the sink.
I get it.
But he doesn’t, not at all. He tells Michael he understands, that had Alex been in the same situation he would have made the same play. He would have used Michael, pretended to care. He would have done anything for the answers.
Just forget it okay. I don’t blame you. I’ll be gone in a few weeks. They don’t need to know. Please.
Michael realized then that Alex is ashamed. Ashamed that he fell for it. Ashamed of how he felt for Michael. So ashamed he doesn’t want his friends to find out.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, like every breath is tearing him up.
***********
The next day he has lunch with Isobel but she’s looking at him funny. She even tries to sneak into his mind but he snaps the walls up quick. It actually makes her laugh.
She asks him if he’s nervous about his interview the next day with a research lab at the hospital. He’s not, they’d be fucking lucky to have him. He tells her so.
So...Alex…
The name makes his head pop up, and she gives him a sly smile.
Yeah I thought so.
Turns out Michael was far from subtle when it came to watching Alex’s every move the night before. He’s not embarrassed, weirdly he’s proud of what he feels for him, even if he’s not allowed to be.
It’s not a good idea, not right now.
And then Isobel tells him about how Alex was seeing someone, was head over heels in love. She’d never heard him so happy, so content in his own skin. She’d been so hopeful for her friend, until one day he said it was over and refused to speak about it again.
Who would ever be stupid enough to let Alex Manes go? I mean…
Michael doesn’t really hear the rest of it. He throws money on the table and rushes out of the restaurant. He’s in his truck about to turn the key when he realizes he has no idea where he’s going.
Well his sister turned out smarter than he ever gave her credit for. He sees directions in his mind, the front of a cabin in the woods, a red door. He offers her his thanks and steps on the gas.
**********
Maybe banging on Alex’s door like a maniac wasn’t his most charismatic move. At least he hadn’t blown it off it’s hinges. He waited impatiently for the door to open, and then he just let go. Let it all tumble out.
I love you. I didn’t fake that. I didn’t even know something like us could exist until I met you.
Alex just searched his face, warm brown eyes and something akin to joy lighting up his face. He pulled Michael into the house, into his body and into his mind. Into his heart.
So that’s when he learns what home feels like.
****************
Michael never does learn all the answers but he learns the most important one. Not bad for best laid plans and all that.
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neonnhoney-rec · 5 years ago
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Kim Seokjin
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Here are a few jin recs, most of them I've read and love, some are in my TBR. Tbh most of them are smut, but some are fluff and angst mostly angst. I will keep updating this woop woop.
I hope you enjoy tehee!
urs- @floralseokjin
first time with jin
seokjin’s been dreaming of this moment for so long… 
what 2 do- @floralseokjin
what happens when the college roommate you thought was definitely going to be girl turns out to be the most gorgeous guy you’ve ever encountered in all your years of life? It’s a stupid misunderstanding on your part, but maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad after all…
corrupting oppa- @tayegi
you find out jin’s a virgin after watching a sex scene, and you’re about to change that
the pretending- @tayegi
jin’s in heat and he wants you to give a helping hand
a helping hand- @jjungkookislife
two old friends at a party, drunk, only one thing can happen really, let’s be honest
teach me- @kingsuckjin
Your reputation was no secret in school even before you hit eighteen and nineteen. You were trouble and everyone knew it, you weren’t about to ease up with the final few months left either, you were going to go full force. You wanted one good last big stunt to pull before the end of the year, your last year. Only one thing could top the things you’ve done, you were going to have sex with the hottest teacher in your school.
burden- @neonlights92
After the death of his wife during childbirth Kim Seokjin is unable to hold his baby daughter without grief taking control. Just three weeks after the love of his life is taken from him so suddenly, Jin is expected to marry somebody new.
You are foolish and have spent your whole life pining after Kim Seokjin from afar, even after he marries your best friend, Seul.  But suddenly Seul is gone and you are expected to marry Jin and raise his child. You know your heart is already in it, but what about his?
I though I was alone @aroseforyoongi
On the day your boyfriend cheats on you, Seokjin is there to provide comfort and some greatly needed affection. He is the perfect roommate and friend. Always patient and willing to lend an ear. It is then, when you’re with him, that you realize that maybe you want more
slayer: only human- @gimmeyoon
Being the Slayer is not how you imagined spending your life, let alone your first year in college. You try to keep it together, but when an empath demon rolls into town you can’t help but vent to him. Now he knows exactly what makes the Slayer tick.
my last- @imsarabum
Jin smut where it’s your first time and they’re loving to you and you had doubts and you were nervous
club zombie- @floralseokjin
In a world overrun by zombies, you’d think everyone was a goner, but the reality is much different. A steady diet of brains lets a zombie exist as a fully functioning human. Just ignore the part where they’re technically dead… In fact, these days, the amount of zombies outweigh the humans. A lot jump at the chance to be turned. Beg for it. 
Kim Seokjin controls the underground of Seoul. No one would dare cross him. That’s how most of the world goes these days. You wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of a zombie now, would you? However, you don’t quite see it like that. Spending most nights dancing at the club he owns, you catch his eye. It’s never the wrong side if you’re underneath him, right…?
insatiable- @heartbeatan
The mortal man with a broken heart and confidence. You, a succubus, donned with the task of restoring both.
the medical man- @call-me-bha
It was no surprise to anyone who knew Dr. Kim that he was the fantasy of many women, even the ones who weren’t his patients. His talents were known all across the city and you were no exception to the list of “fans” he had
a little slice of heaven- @alittlesugaorspice
You have been out of a job for a while until an ad caught your eye in the paper. After that, everything had quickly changed with the addition of a handsome CEO and six, quirky, kids in your life
roomie- @hobibliophile
When you first moved in with Jin, you thought you had hit the roommate jackpot. Turns out, living in the same apartment with this gorgeous man is a lot harder than you thought it’d be. He didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did you. It’s just this pesky thing called sexual tension.
base to base- @randombtsprincessa
You reminisce about your relationship with your boyfriend over the course of four bases.
hazy- @yoonia
Jin + “You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.”+ Pub au
peach parfait- @jamaisjoons
you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts. enemies to lovers au
the stranger @btssmutgalore
When your plane hits turbulence, you start panicking and tell some of your biggest secrets to the attractive stranger sitting next to you.
washing machine- @btssmutgalore
Jin shows you another way to use the old washing machine.
off limits @floralseokjin
you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…
father of six (wolf pups that is)- @army-author
There are rumours going around our school about a pack of werewolves that live close by. Of course, I don’t believe it, but you have been acting kind of weird lately…
currents- @yeoldontknow
Jin thinks he’s loved you since the moment he saw you, back when you were teenagers; Jin knows he’s been in love with you, the soul burning kind of love, since he saw you on your wedding day. He doesn’t mind that you don’t reciprocate on his level, he’s just happy to show you he cares. Until one day, he simply can’t anymore. Until one day, you realize you need to show him you care, too.
petals- @bloomsuga
After a tense conversation the previous day leaves you unsure of your relationship status, your boyfriend, flower shop owner and single dad, Kim Seokjin, finds an unprecedented way to make it up to you…
sharing is caring- @littlemisskookie
Jin graciously decides to loan you to handsome Park Jimin for the night.
perfect- @btssmutgalore
Your roommate seems to have it all - great grades, amazing friends, good job, beautiful girlfriend. However, after a bad breakup and a long recovery, you realize there’s one thing he’s missing
lovely little mess- @guksheart
telling seokjin of your pregnancy should not be so daunting, but you keep it hidden from him as long as you can—at least until you are sitting with him in a bathtub and the secret comes spilling out. (expecting parents au)
London calling- @talie98
Camera operator Rory James thinks she is going to another filmmaking conference. Everything changes when she gets on the same plane with Kim Seok-jin. 
daydream- @dom-joonie
Your literature professor has a bit of a…gift. A gift that let’s him see other peoples thoughts when he wants to. And despite the fact that he warns his class openly about this gift, one day you forget, and find yourself in a bit of pickle when Kim Seokjin reads your mind, and finds you imagining some not so school appropriate scenarios…involving him.
sexploration- a little tied- @joopiterjoon
sub jin get’s a little tied up
a kiss of marble- @jinpire (kimtrain ao3)
His gaze trails down your nose and lingers on your lips, before falling to the curve of your neck and the tiny bend of your shoulder visible above your t-shirt, the attention so acute and suggestive that it feels like a tangible brush on your skin. “Hmm… I’ve got a few ideas.” [Vampire!Seokjin, donor! reader]
lost control- @floralseokjin
you’ve always wondered what it would feel like to take control in the bedroom for once and Seokjin’s more than happy to let you do as you please…
sunrise- @ironicarmy
During the trip to his parent’s lakehouse, you and Jin decide it is now the perfect time to Marvin Gaye, after years of waiting for the right moment. However, with your friends tagging along and their own emotional baggage to deal with, having the perfect night is proving to be a challenge. So, will you, or won’t you?
dear ophilia- @noir0neko
The most dangerous people can be the most exciting…(bit dark, just a warning)
the devil wears armani- @floralseokjin
You never imagined accidentally attempting to sell your soul to the devil would lead to this…
float like a butterfly swim like a fish- @bangtaninink
pool sex with college senior and captain of the swim team jin
burgers, fries, and some ice- @moononthejoon 
saying i love you to someone for the first time should not be in a diner in the middle of nowhere, but things never go the way you want them to be
definitely you- @moononthejoon
money can buy you everything, well, not everything, it can’t buy love. seokjin had found that out and now he remained wifeless. little did he know he would find love where he least expected it.
bite!- @nottojay
Jin’s calm and collected; you’re anything but. Jin’s got fangs and super strength, and you can put up with Taehyung and Jimin’s antics.
just a coffee- @mind-of-a-hardstan
Jin comes back to visit a few months after he moved away to study. You invite him over for coffee and naturally you end up talking for hours. And then you end up in his lap… 
the green light- @nottojay
Seokjin has the looks. He has the money. He has the success. He has the friends. He has it all. Well, all except you. The light at the end of the dock.
before the after- @ddaengyoonmin
The end of the world kinda happens
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth”
first time with jin- @inkjam-moon
reader’s first time
carnival rides- @geniuslab
Working at your parents’ funnel cake stand during the summer sounds like a decent enough gig. But you didn’t quite plan for the exhausting heat or the cute gelato guy who would make it his mission to get you to like him. Warning: This ride will get you wet!
sleeping with a friend- @underthejoon
friends to loves, a classic
big dick, big heart- @floralseokjin
your new boyfriend has a really big dick
guarded- @kpopfanfictrash
 “Was that supposed to be a wink, or did you blink at different times on purpose?”- life guard au
under the coven’s protection- @army-author
I’m a vampire, and you’re a human who’s prone to getting hurt. Please take better care of yourself, or I might not be able to control myself!
bound for life- @versigny
ummm pegging? 
best friend- @littlemeowmeowschimmy
Being away from your best friend for years suddenly sparks some sexual tension which both of you don’t have a problem releasing 
dimple- @floralseokjin
What’s the rule again? How many dates does it take for you have sex with a guy? Three? Five? Ten?! What if all this waiting and you can’t remember how to do it? It’s been so long since the last time you swear you’ve forgotten! You’re desperate, and that’s how you end up asking your roommate for help. Only trouble is, you get much more than you bargained for…
enraptured love- @kookscrescent
You are still in the beginning stages of your relationship. Still learning about each other, and both enjoying taking things slow, but at this stage you are both more than ready to take things a step further. 
rock hard- @jiminspjm 
“recreational activities make me hard” - rock climbing au
the man in the pink cape- @randombtsprincessa
You reminisce about your relationship with your boyfriend over the course of four bases.
love bite- @taetaesbaebaepsae
Seokjin knows he’s handsome, but he can’t shake the feeling that maybe you want him for something other than his good looks…
serendipity- @iq-biased
A string of events after a one night stand have you getting closer to a single dad than you’d initially intended.
(s)ex calling- @mintedmango
Your life was in shambles. No job, no money for your next semester in college and your roommate won’t let you mooch off of him again… What are you supposed to do when you see an ad for the HOTLINE app? Turn down easy money? This summer was going to be one you never forget!
softy- @gukptune
a freshman and senior seemingly despise each other, one says the other acts older than they are and one says the other acts like a child, a feud brewing within the estranged pair
golden boy- @kpopfanfictrash 
The golden boy of the porn industry, prettier than half his female co-stars. Will sue if you pull his hair. Always bothering his neighbors with pizza delivery.
amaranthine- @versigny
vamp Jin Drabble
the stalk- @versigny
single mum reader
Piece by piece- @underthejoon​
a collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you.
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mi6-cafe · 6 years ago
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The fourth and FINAL week of writing for LDWS participants has come to a close. Now it’s time for the next (and last!) bit of the competition: reading and voting!  
Photo prompt: 
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Word count: 300 
Voters–after you read, check out this form to vote for your top three drabbles! You can also leave anonymous feedback for the writers!
Who can vote? Anyone who’s read the drabbles! Yes, that includes YOU!  
Writers–you may also vote, but we do ask that you vote for three drabbles other than your own.  
The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.
Remember, readers–it’s up to YOU to decide who will wind up on top at the end of the competition!
Drabbles are under the read-more:
1) 
Title: Something Special Warnings: none Summary: Q gives James a part of himself.
Author: Melynen
There is nothing particularly special about the framed poster on Q’s bedroom wall. If anything, it could even be mistaken for one of the beautiful yet generic Greek views one can find on postcards from many of the islands that have any tourism. James knows this for a fact as he remembers seeing a strikingly similar view both in Santorini and Crete; and he has even sent Q a postcard of such a view the last time he was in Greece for a mission.
The card has found its spot on Q’s fridge door, held in place with a fridge magnet of a Greek cat illustration James brought him from the previous Greek mission.
James remembers paying any mind to the poster only after his sixth or so visit to Q’s bedroom. Before, there had been other, more interesting things - like the paleness of Q’s throat and the enticing way he gasps when James touches the inside of his knee just so - to focus on.
It's one of those nights when they’re cuddling under the duvet, nude and still slightly sticky with cooling sweat, with Q’s cheek resting against James’ chest and James’ fingers carding through Q’s hair, when James glances at the poster and hears Q sigh softly.
”It’s a photo my mother took when she was in Santorini with my father,” Q explains quietly. ”It’s where she realised she loved him, and where they returned a year later on their honeymoon, and again every year for their anniversary until she died.”
James looks at the poster again, takes in the cheery ambiance and the beautiful view, and makes up his mind. ”Can I take you there?” he asks against Q’s tangle of silky curls.
And when Q wordlessly nods his assent, James realises he’s been given something special.
2) 
Title: Almost Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary:It was their first vacation together.
Author: Azure7539arts
It had been completely unexpected, although he supposed he should’ve been on his guard more. Should’ve been less distracted by the small quirk of a smile tugging on the lips of the man sitting across from him at the table.
The day had been bright and the blue sea shone a dazzling kind of bejeweled, all the lives and ships it had taken and swallowed up whole buried deep somewhere in the seabed and under the now calm, gentle waves.
He should’ve seen it coming, really.
He shouldn’t have been so absorbed in the brush of warm hand against his own knuckles, shouldn’t have let the cooling breeze lull him into false security as the scent of the sea and that of the vibrantly blooming flowers around them swaddled them up in its linen blanket.
It was almost perfect, the life of the city pulsing around them in that mid-morning energy as the sun tingled and kissed their skin from the edges of the umbrella. And now that he’d thought about it, looking at the way the feet next to him wiggled a little right at the rim of shadow separating their shade from the rest of the radiant, iridescent light outside as though it was a game of peek-a-boo, it had always been the little things that made him fall in love.
It was almost perfect, and it could’ve been exactly as perfect as it could have ever been when they leaned closer to press the bows of their lips together.
Until a distinct whizzing tore through the air just beyond his closed eyes and a thud of something fast hitting its target shattered this rosy lens into thousands of pieces.
The body next to him lurched, suddenly going heavy.
“Q?” Bond whispered, shivering.
But there was no reply.
3) 
Title: Gentlemanly Warnings: Omegaverse, y'all, but nothing too crazy Summary: The gang goes on vacation.
Author: Solitaryjane
Q watched Bond come toward him from the ocean. His chest glistened under the sun, and his pair of tight black swimtrunks somehow skirted the line of obscene and straight into sophistication. It contrasted sharply with other alphas, all eager to show off their bulges and purposefully dripping sweat onto any omegas that caught their eyes. A bunch of crass, disgusting idiots. Q had no patience for that lot.
“Don’t like the water?” Bond asked as he plopped himself onto the towel Q was currently sunbathing on. Q snorted. It was bloody nine in the morning; the water wouldn't be warm until noon.
“Some of us actually need to work to get a tan going,” Q replied.
“Wouldn't you just burn?”
“Ah, that’s where you come in.”  He sat up, handing Bond a bottle of sunscreen. The alpha said nothing as he poured the lotion onto his hands. He spread it onto Q’s back, kneading the muscles as he did so. Q could feel his warm breath on the side of his neck. He wanted Bond to come closer, to soak in the man’s spicy scent. But the salt of the ocean had washed off most of the alpha’s pheromones. It left Q’s head completely clear, something he secretly wished weren't so.
***
On the terrace above, Eve let out a loud sigh as she slumped on the table.
“For heaven’s sake, just fuck already,” she griped. “Watching them pretending to be civil is giving me a colossal migraine.”
“You know that’s not how Bond works,” Tanner answered beside her. “He has to make sure Q’s ‘in his right mind’ when he asks. Being a gentleman and all.”
“Bill, look over there and tell me,” she deadpanned. “Which part of that omega’s demeanor says he wants a gentleman to you?”
4) 
Title: Sun, Sea, and Spies Summary: Luxury holiday spots are all well and good until the weapons come out. Warnings: None.
Author: SolarMorrigan
Truly, this was lovely. The fresh, salt smell of the sea, the bright sunshine nearly tangible in the air, the cool breeze that wound its way through the little covered tables, the soothing hush of waves against the shore, Bond’s hand over Q’s where it rested on the tabletop, his thumb stroking soft circles into Q’s wrist.
Lovely, lovely, lovely.
It was so nice, Q could almost relax.
Almost.
“You know, I’d like to go on a real holiday someday.”
Bond sighed, just to the side of dramatic. “There’s no pleasing you, is there? I take you somewhere exotic, bring you to a nice resort, get you lunch…”
“Get me shot at.”
“Fairly certain I’d remember if there had been shooting.”
Q leaned in, murmuring into Bond’s ear like he was imparting some teasing secret. “The man at your eight o’ clock with a conspicuous bulge in his pocket suggests we’re about to be shot at.”
“Perhaps he’s just happy to see you,” Bond suggested, though he knew Q’s judgment was trustworthy.
Pulling back, Q cocked a desperately unimpressed eyebrow at Bond, but was ignored in favor of the new man approaching their table, hand resting not-quite-casually at his hip.
“Well,” Bond reached over with one hand to tilt Q’s head towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he grasped under the table for his weapon with his other hand, “what’s a holiday without a little adventure?”
Q frowned. “I really do hate you sometimes,” he said, but Bond could see him squaring himself up for the fight ahead, ready to go through whatever was needed to complete their mission.
Bond smirked against Q’s cheek, fond and proud, his attention still on their potential assailants, but amused by his lover all the same. “I love you too, Q.”
5) 
Title: Mediterranean shot Warnings: None Rating: G
Author: Susspencer
Q sat under the white umbrellas staring at the sea. Between the smell of the fresh fruit and the salt air, all he could do was relax.  He sipped his morning tea.  He normally would have been watching the people but he was lost in the blues of the sky and sea.  It reminded him of James’ eyes.
007 peered through the scope of the rifle.  Carefully he searched for  his target.  The barrels of fresh oranges, the people crowded under the white umbrellas, and a young man at the back table filled his view as he scanned the area.  James stopped on Q.  He sighed as he watched as Q just sat there completely unaware of what was happening around him.  James pulled his head up for a moment and shook it. He couldn’t believe that they were at this point.
The waiter walked over to Q.  
“Can I get you anything else sir?”
“Yes, the sign says, fruit pots for take away?  I would like to get a pot for a friend.” Q ordered.
“Certainly, sir.  I’ll be right back.”
The waiter gathered the fruit pot and a gun.  James adjusted the scope with a sigh, as the waiter returned to the table, it was now or never.  007 knew he had to take this shot, but he dreaded it.  The waiter sat the fruit pot down. There was a single gunshot.  A man fell to the ground.  James grabbed his gun, policed his brass, and returned to his hotel room.  
James sat on the sofa, the door opened.  He looked up to see Q with the fruit pot.
“I brought you a gift. I suppose it is a thank you gift.  I wasn’t even aware of the threat.” Q stated, as he joined James on the couch.
6) 
Title: Lost and Found Warnings: none Summary: Sometimes it’s best to start over…
Author: Ato
He feels warm for the first time in a week.  
At least on the outside.
There’s something cathartic about walking away and starting over.  The dread that leads up to it is awful, the actual leaving is painful, but sitting on a warm veranda with no responsibilities for the first time in memory is actually a bit wonderful.  Even with the cost… so high this time.  Even with the flashing blue of the sea sparking memories of his eyes.
He’s on his third round of the local cocktail, tongue delightfully cool and throat wonderfully warm, when a familiar shadow stretches out beside his own.  
He’d know those ears anywhere.  Damn.
“Hello, 007,” he greets quietly.  “Here to pull a trigger?”
“Or not pull a trigger,” Bond answers, reminiscent of their first conversation.  “Took me a while to find you.” Bond seems impressed.  “Thought you hated flying... and the sun.”
Q shrugs.  “Part of the Q-persona.  Best to keep some things close to one’s chest,” he mutters, eyes on the Mediterranean.  
Bond grunts in understanding, then after a moment, asks, “Was accepting my dinner invitation part of the Q-persona?”
“No,” Q acknowledges, glancing at Bond.  “Missing that was the worst part of leaving.”
They both watch the calm blue of the sea, but Q senses the tumultuous potential between them.  
“Did you mean for it to happen?” Bond asks solemnly.
Three agents dead.  Q shudders.  “Of course not.”
James nods, taking a seat beside Q. “Whatever he’s having,” he orders when the waiter comes by.
After his first sip, Bond closes his eyes and leans back in the chair.
“When was the last time you had a vacation?”
Q huffs a laugh.  “No idea,” he admits.  
James waves the waiter over for another round.  “In that case, we're in no hurry.”
7) 
Title:  Peach Warnings: NSFW! Porn! Smut! Summary: As it turns out, the cheeky young barman had been holding out on him…
Author: Iambid
One week.
Seven long days filled with flirting and coy smiles from the sexy young barkeeper.
One-hundred and sixty-eight hours since he’d innocently asked him “what’ll it be?” with a sweet smile and James had started to close in like a shark tasting blood in the water.
“A peach.” He’d replied.
The barman, Q, had tried to tell James that they had no peaches, only oranges and lemons that he could squeeze the juice from and make a refreshing drink with, if James wished but James persisted.  He wanted a peach.  A week of teasing followed before Q finally took pity on James and dragged him into the small shed where they stored the fruit, allowing James to strip him of his gaudy tropical vest and toy with the button on his white linen shorts, his arms wrapped around him from behind.  Q whined as James kissed his shoulder and pushed them off his hips.  He was naked underneath.  His buttocks perfectly round and perfectly smooth and perfectly white against the tanned skin of his back.
“I bloody knew it. I need to get you onto a nudist beach.  Even you out.” James muttered, falling to his knees to squeeze the perfect globes.  He leaned forward in the small dark room, smelling citrus and Q’s sweat as he licked a stripe over the base of Q’s back.  The fruity aroma clung to Q’s skin and made him taste like Earl Grey tea.
“Please…”  Q moaned, reaching back to grab James’s hair and hold him steady as he ground his hips.  James set to, kissing and licking at him until he was relaxed enough to take James up to the hilt.  James looked down as he began to thrust, unable to take his eyes off Q’s perfect arse.
What a peach.
8) 
Title: Santorini Warnings: none Summary:  Greece is for lovers.
Author: Beaubete
The wine is sharp on his tongue, fizzy.  Q glances over the whitewashed wall at the sea's shocking blue.  It calls to him like a voice; perhaps he'll dip his toes in it later after the sun's white heat has faded.  For now he's content to sit slathered in SPF and watch the waves break on the shore.  
It's all very peaceful.  The restaurant's a dazzle of different voices, different languages, and while some threads of conversation drift through his ear, for the most part he is alone.  It's the best holiday he's ever had.
It hadn't started that way.  It started with explosions, with tears.  It started with James Bond walking into his office and out of his life, with a bottle of wine on his couch and with the realization that he'd amassed a frankly daunting amount of leave, primarily because he'd wanted always to be available for Bond.  The discovery had left him a burst balloon until he'd thrown together a hasty plan to get as far from England as he could.
There's nothing of home's deep shadows here.  Everything here is washed with light until it is the most brilliant versions of itself.  The wine is fruitier, the salt more savoury; distantly, he's aware that this is reactionary, that he may not feel this way later.  For now, he's content to bask like a lizard in the sun.
English is by far the least spoken language here, and he cannot help listening when he hears it; somewhere behind him, a couple are having a whispered disagreement.
"I can't.  You don't understand.  I was cruel."
"I understand that you're a fool."
"I understand that too.  I still can't."
Q's lip curls.  Then:
"Excuse me" and eyes as blue as the sea.
"Bond."  Q's tongue goes numb.
"Q."
9) 
Title: It's All Greek to Me Warning: None Summary: Bond scores a security detail with benefits.
GwyllionDream
“Dyo kafedes,” Bond said, deciding it was easier to request two coffees in mangled Greek than to try for Q’s customary Earl Grey.
He found a table for two at the rooftop café and waited for Q to join him.
For the past few months, Bond had obeyed M’s every directive so he could score the security detail at Q’s International Cyber-Security Conference in Athens. The side trip to Santorini had been Q’s idea.
It seemed that Q was full of surprises.
Bond smiled and tilted his head back to let the sun warm his face. The scent of the Mediterranean mixed with the aroma of citrus and sunscreen. Memories of the past night flooded his mind.
Q had let Bond drag him from the infinity pool by his board shorts.
“Too many clothes,” Bond muttered, pressing Q into the soft mattress.
He dipped his head to lick droplets of chlorinated water from Q’s navel while divesting him of his swimwear.
Q rose onto his knees, planting himself in Bond’s naked lap. He grabbed Bond’s shoulders and took what he demanded with the pleading clench of his arse.
Bond gripped Q’s hips and delivered, thrusting so energetically that Q’s knees burned from the friction of skidding across the duvet.
Shuddering and damp with his own spend, Q’s head lolled back as he voiced a satisfied purr.
Only then did Bond let himself go, breathing Q’s name….
“Q….”
“Good morning,” Q said. He turned to the waitress and asked, “Tha boroúsate na mou férete mia katsaróla nkrízou kómis, parakaló?”
She nodded and smiled.
“What did you tell her?” Bond whispered.
“Nothing naughty,” Q said with a wink. “I ordered a pot of Earl Grey.”
Bond grinned. The fact that Q could speak Greek was the least of his surprises this week.
10) 
Title: Jolly Holiday Warnings: None Summary: A vacation to remember.
Author: Venstar
“Go on holiday they said. Bask in the sunlight they said. Enjoy your time away from the office they said!” Q’s voice was razor sharp and cutting as he hissed his rambling monologue in Bond’s ear. In fact, Bond could swear spittle hit his earlobe several times.
Bond murmured carefully back to him from the corner of his mouth. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
Again, Q was like an angry hornet in his ear. He even punched Bond’s shoulder with his bony knuckles, hard as he punctuated each sentence. “Yes. I am. Does that bother you?”
“No. I'm just wondering how long it’ll take before they find us with you wittering on like an old nanny goat.”
“Nanny goat! Hey, I’ll bitch about going on holiday when I want to bitch about going on holiday okay! You shot up the bar! It was a peaceful place.”
“The decor was outdated.”
Q sputtered. “It was a perfectly delightful, quaint Mediterranean bar. They had homemade lemonade and sodas. It had cute little chairs that I could sit on all by myself. At a table, all by myself.”
Bond didn’t even hesitate in teasing Q further. “As I said. Outdated.”
Q’s face grew red. Well redder than it already was. Poor, pale, old thing was sunburned.
“It had umbrellas that protected my skin from the sun!”
Q punched Bond again. “And now look at us. Look at me, I’m burnt to a crisp because you interrupted my holiday because M sent you out on a mission and you didn’t like the handler R assigned you so you led your target all the way over here! To my vacation spot, because you’re spoiled!”
Bond smiled. “So you’ll help me then?”
“I’ll help shoot you myself. Now give me that drive, you pompous git.”
11) 
Title: No Interruptions, Please Rating: G Summary: Bond and Q take a long holiday.
Author: IrishWitch58
The sun glittered off the Aegean, the landscape saturated with color. Bond adjusted his sunglasses and picked up his vibrating phone and checked messages. Eve was responsible for most of them.
'Q hasn't taken leave in two years. Now he's disappeared for a month.'
'I think R knows something but she won't tell me anything'
Bond's early responses, that a man who took leave only once in two years was entitled to his leave and to his privacy hadn't been well received. He smiled as he checked the new text alert. Not Moneypenny. He signaled the waiter and requested a bottle of the local wine and two glasses along with an appetizer plate. He leaned back appreciating the view. Santorini in early April was lovely, sunny, and warm. He looked forward to swimming or maybe renting a small boat for a day. He was, after all, on leave himself.
A shadow crossed the brick pavement and a figure in white slacks and a purple striped shirt settled in the other chair. “The ferry ride was very relaxing,” Q acknowledged, laying a manila envelope on the table.
“What did you tell Tanner?”
Q held up a phone. “I gave him this number and told him if he called with anything less than Armageddon I would exact consequences. He may have a stroke when I send in the paperwork on this.”
Bond handed over a glass of the wine as he looked at the formal certificate in the envelope. “Put the paperwork in right before we go back. Then Tanner and Moneypenny can both yell at us at once.” He sipped his own wine and clasped Q's hand across the table, touching the new platinum band he'd kept hidden the past five days. “I think we deserve a proper honeymoon don't you?.”
12) 
Title: Holidaying On A Mission Rating: G Warnings: none Summary: there was absolutely no reason why they shouldn't enjoy themselves on MI6 salary
Author: Sunaddicted
The scraping of the bar stool next to his own spoke of someone drunk or someone annoyed and looking forward to getting drunk.
"Does MI6 pay you for drinking your liver into a nasty case of hepatic cirrhosis?"
James grinned and tossed back the last of his cocktail, not needing to look at Q to know  he was scowling: the other man could be as easily predictable in some things - like his disapproval of unncessarily destroyed equipment and excessive consumption of alcohol - as he could be completely impenetrable in others "It's all part of the cover"
"Every single time?"
"What can I say? It's a good one"
Q rolled his eyes and tried to move his bar stool without having to stand up, trying to hide as much as he could in the refreshing shade of the beach umbrella: he could already feel his pale skin starting to fry, despite the copious amounts of sunscreen he had religiously applied before putting even a toe out of the hotel - no matter how inviting the glittering blue sea had seemed.
He both envied the agent's golden tan, deepened by Santorini's scorching sun, and thirsted at the way it made the other's muscles seem even bigger - Q shifted, lazily flicking the image away before he embarrassed himself.  
"What can I get you?"
Q turned to look at the other man "Are you trying to get me drunk, Bond?"
James leaned in, trigger finger under the younger man's chin to draw him closer and keep him there "Do I need to?"
"No"
In the heat, the kiss made Q breathless - he choked on salt, vodka, tan lotion and the taste of the other's lips.
Diving deeper.
Craving more.  
"Let's go back to the hotel"
It wasn't an invitation he had any intentions of refusing.  
13) 
Title: A Yacht on the Mediterranean Warnings: none Summary: Mallory needs an explanation.
Author: Kiddohno
This is technically not a disciplinary meeting, and Mallory must remember that. He looks between the two men sitting on the opposite side of his desk, in his locked office. Quite frankly, he’s completely dumbfounded by the whole situation.
Bond looks inappropriately amused. Q appears to be trying for contrite, but he’s also very clearly holding back a giggle.
The details of the conversation they are about to have should be confined to this room, but Moneypenny is undoubtedly eavesdropping, and it will surely be all around the agency by noon. He sighs, lamenting his position as leader of a herd of overgrown children.
“Will one of you explain to me how it came to be,” he begins, “That, after being sent out on what was barely more than a milk run, two of my staff end up returning legally married, and two weeks late.”
Q’s high giggle escapes. Bond smirks.
“Well, Sir, the Mediterranean is very romantic.”
Mallory glares. Bond shrugs.
“Mr. Vinton had a yacht,” is what Q adds, rather nonsensically.
“A yacht.”
Q nods.
“He insisted on it. Our honeymoon, I mean. On the yacht. Because Bond had said I was his fiance, as a cover.”
“Actually,” Bond says, “I’d told Mr. Vinton that I’d brought Q on holiday to propose. When he became suspicious, I had to get on one knee at this lovely little seaside restaurant. Then convinced,” Bond gestures as if the motion explains everything, “he invited us to honeymoon, on his yacht.”
“But first, we had to actually get married, and Vinton wanted to be there as a witness, so we had to. Actually, um, get married.”
“Naturally.”
“We did complete our objectives, Sir.” Q points out respectfully.
“With pleasure,” Bond agrees. Q goes red.
Mallory wonders if it’s too late to quit.
Thank you to our fantastic drabble writers for their last drabbles this week, and for four weeks of incredible competition! 
To our amazing readers, this is the last week to vote! You can help this competition by going here to vote on your top three drabbles. You may also leave anonymous feedback for one or more drabbles.
Who will be the Last Drabble Writer Standing? 
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savedurlforliv · 5 years ago
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𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓅  𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓈 !   it  is  i ,  𝐫𝐮𝐞 ,  bringing  to  you  my  two  idiots :   𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧  𝐚𝐝𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬  &  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞  𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐧 .   their  intros  are  under  the  cut ,  so  check  'em  out !   oh ,  &  if  you're  down  to  chat  or  do  some  plotting  that  will  completely  ruin  me  &  make  me  cry ,  don't  hesitate  to  hit  me  the  fuck  up !   my  ims  &  discord  ( watch euphoria on hbo#3011 )  are  open  anytime !
𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓  𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍  𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 .
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( jacob  elordi .   cismale .   he/him . )     i  think  i  see  jonathan  adkins  over  on  that  street  corner !   the  twenty-two  year  old  is  a  photographer.   i’ve  also  heard  that  he  is  a  virgo  -  that  might  be  what  makes  him  so  optimistic  &  spontaneous,  but  also  critical  &  meticulous !   i  wonder  what  sort  of  secrets  his  family  is  keeping…     ( artist  +  #4 )
*  𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥��  𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 .
he  hails  from  the  sweet  cornfields  of  ohio .   
he  was  born  to  loving ,  practical  parents  james  &  lily  adkins .
he  has  a  younger  sister ,  jennifer  "jenny"  adkins .   ( wanted  connection ! ) .
from  a  young  age ,  he  was  obsessed  with  pictures  -  capturing  moments  &  creating  eternal ,  tangible  memories .
he  kind  of  always  had  his  life  planned  out  in  his  head :   he  would  finish  high  school  in  ohio ,  get  into  a  good  university  to  major  in  photography ,  move  to  a  big  city  where  he  would  find  different  scenarios  &  new  inspiration ,  work  with  what  he  loves ,  meet  the  love  of  his  life   &  live  his  happily  ever  after .
his  parents  humoured  his  dreams ,  bought  cheap  cameras  &  film  for  him  to  play  with ,  encouraged  him  to  apply  for  different  universities  across  the  united  states  &  even  drove  him  to  a  couple  interviews ,  but  expected  that  would  never  really  happen .
or  so  they  thought .
*  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭  𝐝𝐚𝐲 .
he  was  accepted  in  columbia  university  &  later ,  accepted  in  school  of  visual  arts ,  attending  workshops  &  bootcamp ,  being  in  direct  contact  with  an  array  of  international  image-makers .
his  instructor  guided  him  on  building  his  very  first  portfolio ,  one  that  landed  him  a  photoshoot  for  a  magazine  with  a  famous  actress  &  kick-started  his  career .
he  graduated ,  moved  out  of  campus  &  into  a  house  with  four  of  his  favorite  people  so  the  constant  mess  isn't  all  that  bad .
he ,  currently ,  freelances .   magazines ,  newspapers ,  instagram   models ,  you  name  it .  it  pays  the  bills .  
though ,  really ,  his  passion  lies  in  playing  with  a  good  camera  &  different  types  of  film ,  capturing  landscapes ,  people ,  moments .   having  a  flexible  agenda  with  freelance  allows  him  to  do  just  that . 
*  𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  /  𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .
he  is  the  human  embodiment  of  sunshine  &  a  golden  retriever .
also  has  the  energy  of  a  golden  retriever .
&  is  completely  goal  oriented .
he  sets  his  mind  to  something  &  it's  his  no  matter  what .
he  is  very  stubborn  &  has  a  hard  time  giving  up  on  things  he  dedicates  himself  to .
he  is  a  bit  of  a  control  freak .
having  a  child  at  the  age  of  22  while  sharing  an  apartment  with  four  other  people  wasn't  in  the  life  he  planned  out  in  his  head ,  &  while  it's  a  happy  surprise ,  he's  completely ,  utterly  lost .
so ,  expect  a  few  freak  out's  coming  from  him .
overall ,  decent  kiddo .   10/10  boy .   deserves  all  the  love  in  the  world .
please ,  for  the  love  of  god ,  someone  teach  him  text  slang  &  how  to  use  emojis .
𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄  "𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄"  𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍 .
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( zendaya  coleman .   cisfemale .   she/her . )     i  think  i  see  charlotte  "charlie"  mann  over  on  that  street  corner !   the  eighteen  year  old  is  a  high  school  senior.   i’ve  also  heard  that  she  is  a  gemini  -  that  might  be  what  makes  her  so  sharp-tongued  &  independent,  but  also  rebellious  &  abrasive !   i  wonder  what  sort  of  secrets  her  family  is  keeping…     ( mann  +  #4 )
tw :  drug  mention .
*  𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥  𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 .
she  was  born  &  raised  in  new  york  city .
she  is  the  youngest  of  three  &  became  quite  the  tomboy  in  everything  she  did ,  even  though  her  mother  tried  to  impose  femininity  in  her  life  -  from  girly  dresses  to  expensive  barbies ,  she  never  cared  for  that .   ( also  the  reason  as  to  why  she  goes  by  charlie  now .   charlotte  was  far  too  serious  &  presumptuous ,  sounded  like  it  came  straight  from  a  gossip  girl  character . )
she  learnt  that  she  was  supposed  to  set  example  for  all  the  kids  in  the  playground  &  kindergarten  -  she  never  really  understood  why ,  but  then  she  used  to  do ,  say  &  act  the  way  her  parents  told  her  to ,  never  questioning .
the  pressure  to  be  perfect  would  break  her  any  second .
&  it  did ,  at  the  age  of  fifteen ,  to  be  exact .   accompanied  by  a  panic  attack  &  a  bike  fall  that  scraped  both  knees  and  tore  her  pink  dress  off  the  shoulder .
she  cried  for  five  hours ,  slept  for  two  days  straight  &  didn't  leave  her  bedroom  for  a  week .
she  couldn't  be  their  perfect  daughter  any  longer ;   no  more  fake  smiles ,  pink  dresses  &  hand  picked  boys  to  date .  
*  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭  𝐝𝐚𝐲 .
high  school  is  a  mix  of  ups  and  downs ,   mostly  downs .
the  pressure  coming  from  her  parents  didn't  wave  upon  her  rebelling ,  hell  -  it  only  got  worse . 
she  fell  into  the  wrong  crowd  after  her  breakdown ,  started  to  drink  &  using  drugs  to  keep  her  anxiety  at  minimum  ( or  at  least ,  to  forget  about  what  triggered  it ) ,  &  with  that ,  her  grades  took  a  huge  dive ,  going  from  straight  a's  to  barely  graduating .
she  knows  her  parents  expect  nothing  less  than  excellency  from  her ,  knows  the  dreams  they  have  for  her ,  &  knows  that  her  going  to  a  university  and  getting  a  degree  is  unquestionable  to  them ,  but  she  is  going  to  dodge  their  plans  for  her  as  much  as  she  can .
she  wants  to  own  her  life ,  not  be  a  mere  spectator .   
*  𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  /  𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .
nowadays ,  she  acts  on  impulse  rather  than  logic .   of  course ,  living  in  the  moment  often  has  its  repercussions ,  but  she  can't  reign  in  her  impulsiveness .
she  always  struggled  with  forging  deep  &  meaningful  connections  with  others  -  she ��never  really  learned  how  to .   she  sucks  at  maintaining  friendships  &  more  intimate  bonds  with  others .
she  hasn't  had  many  real  /  serious  relationships  &  kind  of  likes  girls ,  will  hook  up  with  boys  on  occasion .
she  has  been  going  through  a  self-destructive  mode  ever  since  her  breakdown .   catch  her  sneaking  through  her  bedroom  window  in  the  early  hours  drunk  as  hell ,  destroying  her  own  body  with  drugs  that  makes  her  temporarily  happy ,  ruining  any  relationships  she  has  ever  come  close  to  having ,  skipping  tests  &  missing  family  dinners .
she  is  kind  of  a  mess  right  now .
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elven-oracle · 6 years ago
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the siren, act i: serenity |p.p. /part 6|
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[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four] [part five] [part seven]
moodboard credit to @astral-parker
special thanks to @rainbow-marvel for always being willing to edit my thinGS!!!
to listen to the sea shanty i have drawn minimal inspiration from, click here
SUMMARY: When merchant ships start mysteriously going missing, Tony Stark enlists the help of Peter Parker to discover what could possibly be causing them to vanish from thin air. Unbeknownst to them, some mysteries go deeper than the sea itself.
PAIRING: Peter Parker x Siren!OC
WORD COUNT: 1.7k
Tony Stark was stuck in a ditch, and he was desperate to find a way out.
Inside of his lab was a creature. A creature. The little fucking mermaid. He had acted nonchalant in front of the kid when they had first seen her out on the ocean, but that was before he realized all of the complications that followed her. She was a political nightmare. Once he said a word to any person in government, she would be pulled apart at the seams. She would be pricked and pried at until the poor thing went mad and then thrown back into the ocean.
His ears were hot and his heart was racing as he stalked out of the room. He didn’t want to lash out on Peter any more than he already had, but the situation was so complicated it made his brain hurt, and it felt impossible to think clearly when he was with them. The thing could put a human into a trance just by opening her mouth. How were they supposed to know her intentions? Why hadn’t she tricked them into drowning already?
He liked to think he vaguely knew the answer to that question. Peter had some sort of connection with her, and she reciprocated. They mirrored each other’s looks of longing like two lonely teenagers - or what appeared to be teenagers - looking at each other across the middle school gym at a shitty dance. This dance was just about as shitty as it got. Tony had gotten two hours of sleep, was preventing two mutant kids from falling in love, and for all he knew Peter was asphyxiating as he rode the elevator to his bedroom.
For the millionth time that afternoon, he strayed from the idea that she was an evil being. The way she spoke about her own species was detached and disoriented. It reminded him of how he spoke about his father: there was no sense of belonging.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is Peter still alive?” he just wanted to ease his anxiety.
Peter Parker is alive and in good health in your lab.
“Good.”
He exited the elevator and entered his room, where his bed had never looked so welcoming. Tony wasn’t particularly good at sleeping, but two nights in a row he had gotten less sleep than any normal human being got in one night. When he reached the edge, he crumpled into it, closing his eyes.
All he could see were the silver eyes of their mermaid. Their rare beauty was unmatched but simultaneously off-putting. Nagging at the back of his brain like a rock in his shoe was the reminder that he needed to tell someone about his murderous species of siren that was plaguing the Atlantic ocean.
He opened his eyes again, an idea flickering inside his brain.
“Call Rhodey.”
Calling James Rhodes.
It was a shot in the dark. Rhodey was a busy man, but when he had time for Tony he made it. The fact that it had taken this long to call his best friend was proof of how tired he actually was. The screen perched on a wardrobe across from his bed rang for about 30 seconds, and he was almost certain that he wouldn’t pick up.
Call to James Rhodes connected.
A pleasant surprise.
“Now what could you want from me now, Stark!” there was a hint of playfulness in Rhodey’s voice.
“Rhodes, I’m only calling to say hello!”
“With those bags under your eyes? Definitely not the case. Lay it on me, Tony, I’m all ears.” Tony sighed, knowing that there was no way he was ready for this, “I...know why the ships have gone missing.”
He lifted his eyes to see Rhodey’s face fall.
“You - what?”
Slight nausea had settled into his stomach, which his exhaustion probably contributed to. He wanted to explain further, but had trouble getting the words out. The actuality of the lives that had been lost was starting to sink in. Tony was the first to have confirmation that 64 people were dead. 64 families were about to have their hope obliterated.
“Peter and I...we got lucky. We found the cause of the disappearances.”
“Tony.”
His friend sounded hesitant. Almost as if he didn’t want to hear what Tony had to say. He knew he had to pick his words carefully; the mermaid was so tangible that it never crossed his mind that he would need to do a bit of convincing before anyone believed him. After pondering all the possibilities, he finally gave into deciding it would be best just to show rather than tell.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., show the live feed going into my lab.”
The camera switched from Tony’s face to a clear image of the lab. The creature was leaning over the side of the tank, bent halfway, staring inquisitively into the kid’s eyes. Their faces were barely inches apart, and the image struck a chord in Tony’s stomach, his heart rate picking up,
Still, it didn’t look like the kid was in any immediate danger, so he let them be.
“Tony what is that,” the words were phrased less like a question and more like a demand.
“She calls herself a siren. You know. Like from the Greek myths. She even speaks Greek as well,” he looked at his friend who obviously had his teeth clenched. The distressed look was not foreign. Just about every decision Tony made resulted in that look.
“Was it- was it just her? Are there more?” “There’s an entire species. She claims to be half human...” Tony wanted to continue, but it was such a long story, and he probably wouldn’t have done it justice, anyhow.
“What do you think we should do?” Rhodey looked just as mystified as Tony.
“She said…” Tony inhaled, “She said that they have their coordinates memorized. That any human vessel to touch the water past the coordinates are killed without question.”
“Could we technically consider this an invasive species?” “No. They’ve been there for centuries. Since fucking ancient Greece. Technically we’re the invasive species. Is there…” Tony sighed. What he was about to request was typical: it sounded easy in his head, but he had no clue if Rhodey would help him out.
“What is it. What’s the idea.” “I just want to change the trade routes, and nothing else. I’ll measure the coordinates myself. I don’t want to give the reason. I don’t want to cause mass mayhem because mermaids exist.”
They were in the ditch, and Tony could tell Rhodey didn’t know what to do, either. He hadn’t even heard her story from the source. Hearing her talk about it, or however it was she communicated, had brought Tony to pity the poor thing, and it wasn’t a result of her trancing capabilities. She sounded dispirited as she described her own culture. If she could change it, she would. Or for her sake, he hoped that was how she felt.
“They’re already working on new trade routes…” Rhodey sighed, “If you can find the coordinates...I can try and lure away from that direction. No guarantees. We’ll be lucky if that works.”
Tony felt some tension in his shoulders release. He knew he could always count on his best friend, but with this, he hadn’t been sure.
“Tony...you do realize that you are robbing the families of the truth.”
There was another chord played on his heart. He had thought about that the most. These people were holding on to the thought that their loved ones might still be alive, and he held the truth. He had the power to destroy their worlds. Rubbing his eyes, he deflated, lying on the ground.
“I’ve ruined so many lives, Rhodes.”
A few months ago, Rhodey would have argued, but Tony had made the comment so many times that there was no point anymore. He was close to burning out; helping people always seemed to come with a cost. For now, he wanted to protect those that he cared about the most, and that included Peter. His mentoring relationship with the kid was starting to grow into something more, and while he usually pushed away that type of connection, this kid made him want to embrace it. He saw a lot of himself in Peter, and if he could steer him in the right direction he would.
“Get me those coordinates and I’ll write a proposal for the trade route change. You’re lucky you got an inside source in the government,” Rhodey chuckled quietly, waved at the screen, and ended the call.
Tony requested to be shown the security feed from the lab again, zooming in on the kid and his creature. He turned the volume up, noticing that Peter was speaking. He was repeating his name and pointing to himself, probably with the desire to have her learn it. It was this ambition that had brought Tony to invite Peter on this mission. Peter liked science, sure, but the curiosity that drove him was what made him good at it.
Much to Tony’s surprise, he heard the creature speak. She said his name, in a broken and shaky voice. It was the voice of someone who had never spoken aloud before. Apparently, the technique she used for singing could not be carried over to spoken word.
She trusted Peter, and that was good. They would be able to rehabilitate her and hopefully find out more about this unknown species. Once they had established a mutual understanding of each other, maybe then they could reveal to the world that she existed.
He shut his eyes, listening to the duo say Peter’s name back and forth, Peter laughing gleefully. As Tony finally drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of them. Two kids making a big impact on his life. It was the first positive force he had received after months of destruction.
With the idea of resting peacefully at the forefront of his thoughts, Tony let it take him into a dreamless sleep, hoping that he would wake up just as relaxed.
M A S T E R L IS T
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davidmann95 · 6 years ago
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This weeks comics?
So much to cover, and just so we’re all clear upfront, SPOILERS ahead.
Sideways Annual #1: I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive the cover for simply reading “All-out Action, guest-starring Superman” rather than the declaration of “The Champion of the Oppressed is BACK–JUST WHEN THE WORLD NEEDS HIM MOST!” it demanded, but otherwise what a delightful comic. It’s a mess in so many ways given Morrison’s working with what DiDio laid down for him (which he seems to demonstrate hilarious contempt for when he almost literally drops a bridge on the no-hoper who’d been set up as the arc villain before he can do anything) and jumping on mid-stream to boot, but it’s basically just an extended excuse for him to put dialogue in Superman and the Seven Soldiers’ mouths again and remind everyone how rad his takes on them are, and thereby shame us for abandoning the former. Plus give us a taste of what his voice for Spider-Man would be, which it turns out is a perfectly fine one in spite of his past professed skepticism that he could pull it off. And above all to assure us with a smile and the proper send-off (a particularly satisfying one for me personally given my arachnophobia) we never got before that even if we never see our pal cop-punching, bank-busting, casual Fridays Superman again, he’ll be out there, along with all the other cast-off good Superman ideas, helping out wherever he can.
Also, who else caught the nudge and wink about the Tailor, and how that tells devoted Seven Soldiers fans just how much of role Morrison really played in saving his take on Superman?
Batman #60: Batman is…Batman is weird lately. I honestly don’t have anything else to say about this issue, except that the bit with Alfred cleaning was obviously killer.
The Unexpected #6: So Ronan Cliquet is bad, right? Like, we can all agree that dude is just bringing nothing to the table? I’ve never seen pages so plain look so simultaneously cramped and barren. This book has been such a damn disappointment: clearly promises were made about how much space Orlando would have to work on this that have been entirely broken, he’s cutting past what was clearly intended to be dozens of issues of buildup and fleshing-out of the concept to the grand finale, and he’s already obviously and understandably checked out. This should have been one of those “hey, you never heard of _____, but it was quietly one of DC’s best books for awhile there!” titles you learn about 20 years after the fact, but it was stillborn and unable to explore even the slightest sliver of its potential. It’s almost reached a point where it can make me think its coming conclusion is a mercy killing, but then, said conclusion is the problem.
Justice League #11: The debut of the Super-eyepatch! Otherwise, while it’s definitely not my favorite issue thus far of Snyder’s Justice League, it might be the one that feels the most well-realized in terms of getting his vision on the page thanks to Francis Manapul. I desperately hope he sticks on the book past Drowned Earth, because as much as I absolutely love what Jorge Jimenez and Jim Cheung are doing, his vision feels the most in line with the, as Snyder put it, ‘magisterial’ tone this title is going for a lot of the time.
The Green Lantern #1: Not my favorite Morrison title of the week in spite of its lack of clutter and outside influence, to the point where I’d honestly say it initially left me pretty cold, but much as with Morrison’s last major #1 in Action Comics, a reread did wonders for me once I knew what sort of tone I’d be grappling with. I do think it was oddly structured in a way that didn’t benefit it, leading with the mundane-flavored-with-cosmic with the alien beat cops rather than Hal’s more grounded perspective leading into the awe-inspiring, but given it sets up an immediate contrast with his ‘civilian life’, I’d call it a calculated risk that didn’t quite pay off. Hal himself is interestingly realized, this blunt, bored dude who only really comes alive when he’s on the clock, who’s as hyper-competent at his job as you’d think the Greatest Green Lantern Of Them All would be but almost seems to be sleepwalking through his days. It’s when we reach Oa with the mission statement for the Corps that the book really comes together, meshing up the beautiful design sense, an evocation of some of Morrison’s past recurring themes and elements, and raw high concept into the most powerful evocation of the basic idea of Green Lantern’s Deal I’ve ever read. And Liam Sharp mostly does justice by it; I know some find his style off-putting and his anatomy wonky, but he sells the what-if-GL-was-a-2000AD-strip sensibility, and his work has a framing and structure and a tangible, doughy 3Dishness that recalls the flavor of some of Morirson’s best prior collaborations. Not that, to be clear, I don’t think plenty of those prior collaborators couldn’t have done a much better job with this, but I think this’ll pan out just fine.
On top of that a couple minor notes: I suspect David Uzumeri might have been right regarding the possibility that this could be the book where Morrison delves into the basic question of whether superheroes are by nature cops, and thereby police brutality (Maxim Tox and Hal himself both have some startlingly severe moments in here) and the moral feasibility of the whole business. Rather than rethinking his process in his time away, Morrison’s storytelling tics are as prominently on display here as just about anything he’s ever done. And I was genuinely shocked to see the acknowledgement of Manhattan in here - a landmark chapter in The Last War In Albion in the making if ever there was one - right alongside addressing Snyder’s Justice League, making this to my knowledge the only book in the company’s lineup to acknowledge both contenders to the throne of DC’s current actual Important Cosmic-Scale Story. I suppose Lantern is the place where that makes sense, but both bring interesting elements of their own, as with the Source Wall Morrison’s going right on in and acknowledging how other creators have brought his ideas and spirit to the forefront of the DCU in the last several years, and with Manhattan, having a Grant Morrison DC Comic acknowledge the presence of Watchmen characters as parts of the grand scheme of things makes that whole bizarre business feel real in a way even Doomsday Clock itself hasn’t for me.
Adventures of the Super Sons #4: What a charmer! I harped a lot on Pete Tomasi by and large sucking on Superman, because by and large he sucked on Superman, but put that dude on just the right project to play into his strengths and he absolutely shines.
The Dreaming #3: Wound up in my pull file since I’d unsubscribed so recently, and decided to give it one last chance. It’s pretty and confident in what it’s doing and I’m sure lots of people are rightfully getting a lot out of it, but I’m not one of them and it won’t be getting another shot.
Border Town #3: It feels odd to think this given how much positive attention it’s been getting and how well it’s sold for a modern Vertigo book, but Border Town absolutely still feels like the sleeper hit of 2018. It so feels like the sort of comic that I usually can acknowledge the quality of but doesn’t do it for me personally, so I keep picking it up expecting to not quite gel with a given issue, but each time I’m dead damn wrong. It’s brimming with energy and personality on every level, and it’s still early enough that I can’t possibly recommend enough that anyone who hasn’t given it a chance yet jump onboard.
The Wicked + The Divine: The Funnies: Speaking of titles that I can acknowledge the quality of but rarely do it for me, I’ve followed W + D from the beginning on the understanding that the fairly subdued joys I take from it on a month-by-month basis will be eclipsed by the scale of my love for it on a full reread, as was the case with the team’s Young Avengers. But boy did this one buck that trend, because it was a hoot. Honestly couldn’t tell you which was my favorite short, because like half the book is made up of front-runners.
Death of the Inhumans #5: Because Death of Some Inhumans, But Don’t Worry Not Any of the Good Ones, Other than Maximus wouldn’t have shifted as much copy. Donny Cates is establishing himself as a solid mid-tier superhero writer alongside your Tim Seeleys and James Tynions, and Ariel Olivetti’s a treat, but I have to call this one a miss.
Shatterstar #2: As I expected it didn’t grab me as much as the first issue since the tenants aren’t front-and-center, but I’m still digging it to a truly startling extent!
Marvel Knights #1: Okay? I mean, I liked it (aside from the unbelievably poorly-chosen ‘I can sort of see even though I’m blind’ line - had to be a dozen better ways of putting that), but aside from that it’s gritty and involves some of the characters with notable history in the imprint, I have no idea why this is the Marvel Knights 20th Anniversary book as opposed to just a random Marvel miniseries that I suppose could be published under that imprint if you wanted. The conceit feels so odd for the intended purpose.
The Immortal Hulk #8: This book is SO FUCKING GOOD ALL OF THE TIME AT EVERYTHING AND YOU ALL NEED TO BUY IT AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT IT. CHRIST. Still the best super-shit on the stands.
DC Nation #6: Yanick Paquette needs to write Batman explaining science so as to teach us how to better fight crime for as long as he lives, if not in fact longer.
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coeurxdor · 6 years ago
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✮ ━ top three favorite muses that you’ve played♫ ━ a small playlist for a muse of your choiceღ ━ favorite canon ships for your muse(s). are there any you dislike?✄ ━ do you have any artistic abilities? If so, what can you do?
✮ ━ top three favorite muses that you’ve played 
dorcas is one of my favs lmao but her aside…. uhhh…  honestly i’m someone who generally creates a character for LIFE ( i’ve been writing some characters for nearly a decade now ) so… this isn’t easy. i’ll say  neal brar (oc), kitsey greyson (oc, i never get to write her and it’s such a shame), and valentina salgado (oc) ok fuck also tiberius ogden (oc) and malena bedford (oc) i can’t leave either of them out. 
 ✄ ━ do you have any artistic abilities? If so, what can you do?
[here]
ღ ━ favorite canon ships for your muse(s). are there any you dislike?
dorcas with any of the marauders like………………………. no thanks. never, thanks. ( MAYBE with james or peter in some au, but it’s a pretty massive maybe ). or like ships with death eaters that are completely random and have zero solid/logical foundations. 
otherwise, i’m super open with ships. i’m primarily plot based, even with my ships to be honest. i’ve been in situations where dorcas had chemistry with another character  but the plots me and the other player came up, ship-wise, just didn’t speak to me at all so even though we were supposed to “ship” because our characters had chemistry or w/e, i wasn’t really up for it.
i’ve had some nice ships with ocs from historical verses, modern royalty, and x-men verses. 
in the harry potter universe, i’ve had ships with a bunch of ocs and minor canons. think it, i’ve probably done it. i’ve had ships with muggle characters, death eaters (members or leaning), order members, journalists, diplomats, hit wizards, inventors, celebrities, etc.
all of these are old as shit and i haven’t talked to my partners in ages but thus far my most well plotted out + favourite ships/ship plots have been with:
gideon prewett - it was a friends turned lovers ship, but it was very complicated as it developed over the course of a solid 5 years and with the war gideon developed a drinking problem and there were many other mini sub-plots… it was… great, but MY kind of great with lots of character development and slow burn and it ended with them going “ok we can figure this out we’ll make a proper effort” and then gideon died like a week later lmao. ( we had a star wars au for this too )
evan rosier - met at school. they were just kids. he stopped talking to her when he was 12 because he found out she was a halfblood and she absolutely didn’t put up with his nonsense. two years later they had the chance to talk about it… and they were unable to stop talking since then, behind doors that is. they always had a very peculiar dynamic, meeting in the middle in certain aspects, being ruled by their education and backgrounds in others, and above all showing each other two very different perspectives of what would become a war ( and, in their own ways, they used the knowledge they got from each other as a sort of leverage later on - knowledge is power, so it goes ). after graduation they grew apart, then close again, then he tried to pull some really stupid things after he got married and their dynamic deteriorated considerably after that and as the war progressed. there was always going to be something there even if only given to how much they shared with each other, but i was very open about dorcas not having romantic feelings for him anymore ( and gd knows having them in the first place was an identity crisis as it was ) but my partner at the time told me he would continue to have feelings for her which made the whole dynamic even more interesting. there was always tension, and angst, and power dynamics and one time they did exchange war related information once ( they never said where their affiliations lied, but they didn’t need to at that point, to either of them it was blatantly clear ) but it was on a very particular case concerning the murder of a diplomat where both the order and the death eaters were being blamed when neither side had been involved. 
an oc auror  AND I APOLOGIZE BUT YOU’LL ALL HAVE TO PUT UP WITH ME WITH THIS ONE BC IT WAS ONE OF MY FAV DYNAMICS AND I LOVE AND MISS IT DEARLY. they met while she was still studying to be a healer, he asked her out she said yes but then life happened and they never did get to go on that date. fast-forward a year she’s working at the ministry as a secretary like five desks away from him, huffing at aurors and hit wizards for not filling their reports correctly and no she’s not going to bloody write them for you. he was awkward and self-conscious about it but there were no hard feelings about the failed date (dorcas had literally just joined the order so she had a lot on her plate anyway). very gradually they got talking, hooked up, it turned into a “oh no don’t worry about it it was nothing serious we were just blowing off some steam” which turned into “oh crap im falling in love” and eventually they started dating and it was the most wonderful thing in the world… and then like 6 months into it dorcas broke up with him because it was, like, early 1979 and every time they got together he ended up talking poorly of the order ( they broke up when, one day, he was trashing the order after, unbeknownst to him, the order had saved his ass and his partner’s ass and dorcas was just sitting there with the damn take out he had brought thinking “i really did this to myself huh fuck my entire life i have to end this”. they ended things abruptly and still very much in love. ) fast-forward some months he ends up reaching out to her somewhat awkwardly because he doesn’t know who to talk to ( he was a person of strong convictions but very private and he had grown very used to being able/feeling comfortable talking to her ). what did he want to get off his chest? that he had just discovered he had child. some 3 year old girl. the mother kept him in the dark about their daughter ( her reasons were that she didn’t think he was ever going to make a good father due to how much of a workaholic he was ) and he stumbled on the information. he ended up admitting to dorcas he desperately wanted to have a relationship with the child but didn’t know how to and long story short they started dating again, so painfully gradually and casually. dorcas wasn’t always present when he was with his daughter, but she was far from a stranger to the little girl. however, by mid 1980 the war was at its peak and dorcas was leading like 4 parallel lives and going to too many funerals - she was running on fumes and she did have an emotional breakdown once in front of him one time but it was after his daughter caught dragon pox and he assumed she was just overwhelmed and being sensitive ( he was so thrown off that while he was anxious himself he even went as far as cracking a joke about how she was the one who usually kept it together ). in early 1981 he started seeing his daughter more regularly, there was an unofficially joint custody thing going, and he wanted to take their relationship to the next level. not marriage by any means just, something more tangible and sure and clear, primarily because he didn’t want to have someone in his daughter’s life who would just not be in it for the long run. so they sat down and he told her everything that was going on inside his head, he said that it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her to be around he just needed to have the conversation with her… and dorcas was sitting there thinking “yes, this is something i want, this doesn’t scare me, this makes me happy, i love this person and i love that little girl like she was mine and i want to grow to love her and her father even more.” so she said she didn’t. she said she wasn’t interested; that he had read her wrong. she thought of the two broken ribs she had some weeks prior and how edgar and his wife and their children were six feet under. they parted away, never spoke again, and she was murdered like 5 months later in july/august. i shared ideas and hcs, but, as an active contributing writer, the story ended here for me. however, the way my former roleplay partner wrote what happened after dorcas’ death goes like this:years later, he ended up marrying the mother of his child ( they were able to reconnect in a healthy way because of how much character development he experienced while dating dorcas ). they had two other children.  around twenty years later, the dust of the second war settling and previously private information about both wars was gradually becoming public. one morning his eldest daughter was reading the newspaper and she casually asked mom and dad, sitting at the table with her, if they knew anyone who fought in the first war. they both mentioned a handful of hit wizards and aurors, and that was that - she closed the newspaper dismissively and left to meet with friends. it was summer. i can’t remember if it was later that day or the day after, but he asked her what had prompted her to ask such question and she said there was a face in the newspaper that seemed familiar. he asked her the name of the person, she couldn’t remember only that it was “funny but familiar”, and as she went to get the newspaper she continued that that neither he nor mom had said it. he got his glasses, she opened the newspaper for him in the multi-page article about new information from the first war and pointed at one of the several small moving photographs - the penny dropped as he recognized the face right away.a lot of things made sense after he found out dorcas was a member of the order, it was, in a way a relief for him to discover it because it filled in a lot of blanks ( and it made him feel better in the sense that no, he hadn’t been the problem in their relationship )… but on the other hand it was also highly bittersweet and conflicting, and he had more questions and about a thousand new feelings and emotions to process. the worst part was she had been dead for two decades so it wasn’t as thought he could talk to her about it. i think that ( i can’t remember ) at some point, in anger and frustration, he thought that she should have told him, and then he remembered what he was like and what his views of the order were and he was forced to admit to himself that if she had said anything to him, if she had trusted him with that information, his self from twenty years ago would have been highly judgmental and ended things immediately ( we had an au where this happened and it was the most horrible thing - it was right after an attack and they hadn’t even showered yet and dusted themselves off and he just told her to leave, didn’t even look her in the eye ). eventually he came to terms with her decisions and understood why she had made them and was able to tell his eldest daughter why the women in the photo looked familiar.
i don’t think i’ve had a single ship for dorcas, in any universe, where she ends up happy lmao bottoms up i don’t know how to write happy endings (unless it’s in aus) cheers.
♫ ━ a small playlist 
ok so im really really really realllly bad at playlists and i’ve already done one for dorcas here and i don’t want to make another lmao so can i make two mini ones for two of your characters instead?
for robb stark 
kids - mgmt 
fire - kasabian
everybody’s watching me -  the neighbourhood
seven nation army - the white stripes
howl - florence and the machine
afterlife - arcade fire
bonus: heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs // pretty fly for a white guy - the offspring
for rose tyler
perfect places - lorde
run away with me - carly rae jepsen
the last of the real ones - fall out boy
drops of jupiter - train
adventure of a lifetime - coldplayp
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godamnarmsrace · 7 years ago
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✿Send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going, make someone smile!✿
This one’s for you babe, because you put up with so much of my drama and still you answer when I call.
Special thanks for @smittenwithsugden for the quick beta.
Take All That I Am - AO3
Robert didn’t know what he should do, they’d been avoidingeach other for weeks and now Aaron was heading straight for him.
Robert didn’t want to give inor give up but it hurt too much seeing Aaron around the village every day.Rebecca clearly wasn’t going anywhere and Robert couldn’t be responsible forAaron self-harming again, so he’d rung his real estate agent and asked him tolook for a cheap flat in Hotten.
The agent had tried to push him towards something fancier,‘a more secure investment’ he’d said, but Robert didn’t care what the placelooked like and he didn’t need a bunch of empty rooms mocking him. He justneeded to get away because he was glad that Aaron was happier, he was. That ithad happened because Robert was out of his life hurt like hell, but Robert knewhe couldn’t hang around and watch Aaron move on with someone else. He wantedAaron to have everything, he’d just clung to the thought that it might one dayinclude him and it was long past time to let that fantasy go.
He’d given Rebecca a hundred thousand pounds for the baby. He’dkept a bit for the purchase of the new flat and some start-up capital for a newbusiness, for when he finally pulled himself together, it might happen oneday…maybe in like ten years or something. Robert had done all this and therest with his solicitor shaking his head over what he called Robert’s 'boneheaded stupidity.’ In the grand scheme of things he’d been called a hell of alot worse.
He’d signed all the paperwork and then gone back to Diane’sand sobbed with his head buried in her lap like he never ever remembered doingin the past. She was the only one who seemed to notice Robert withdrawing intohimself, the only one who knew he was leaving.
“I understand, pet, but I wish you’d stay close where Ican keep an eye on you,” she’d said running her fingers his hair.
“I…can’t. Livwill be home soon and it’s bad enough Aaron hates me, I couldn’t stand it fromher too, we were meant to be a family.Her and Aaron, they were meant to be mine,” Robert had said, feeling morealone than ever.
And now here he was, standing outside in front of Jimmy andNicola’s with Aaron heading for him with what looked like anger on hisbeautiful face. Robert didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he’d done toupset Aaron this time, but it was the first bit of attention Aaron had shownhim in weeks. Something other than blinding pain and emptiness swirled aroundin his belly and it hurt to breathe.
“What the fuck is this, Robert?” Aaron spat outwhen he got close enough to fling an envelope at Robert that he hadn’t even realised Aaron was holding.
Robert bent to pick up the envelope and opened it up. Ofcourse, well, he had been expecting Aaron to be pissed about Robert’s littleparting gift, but he had not expected Aaron to actually approach him about it.
Robert leant over andtucked the envelope and its contents in the pocket of Aaron’s hoodie.
“Just think of it as a divorce settlement,” Robertsaid feeling every one of his years.
Aaron just looked at him for a moment and then said:“You what? This is most of your money, Robert! What do you think you’replaying at, transferring all this cash into my account?”
Robert felt himself shrug, “I don’t need it. I don’twant it. I only invested it because I wanted to make sure I could always takecare of my fam…of you and Liv. So, use it to pay for Liv’s schooling, keep itor don’t, I don’t care but I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want any of itanymore.”
“You think I want it? I never wanted money, Robert. You have to take it back, we…weren’teven married, I’m not entitled to a divorce settlement. What did you do withthe rest of it?” Aaron argued, an unreadable expression on his face.
Robert shrugged again, not wanting to speak Rebecca’s namein Aaron’s presence.
“Rebecca?” Aaron asked, sounding resigned to thevery fact that she still existed.
“A hundred thousand pounds, the rest is for me to get aflat away from the village,” Robert hating that this was what they hadcome to.
“Robert, there’s barely anything left, the only flatyou’re getting with that is gonna be a teardownor the size of a shoebox. Why are you doing this?” Aaron said with a frownon his face.
Robert wanted to smooth the mark away but he knew his touchwould be unwelcome. He lost the right to touch, or to be concerned. “It’swhat you wanted, isn’t it? Me to leaveyou alone, to let you go? But I can’t watch while you move on and build a lifewithout me.”
“So, you’re just going to leave? When? What about thescrap yard and Home James?” Aaron said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Robert was aware they were gathering a small audience. Cain,Belle, Chrissie and Rebecca were all within shouting distance and Robert reallydidn’t want the whole village knowing his business but sadly he was gettingused to it. Belle, bless her, was theonly one even trying to pretend not to be listening.
“I’ve got to find a place yet and you should be gettingsome paperwork about the scrap yard, I signed my share over to you and, well,Home James, Nicola wants to keep me as part of the company. I will just workfrom home, where ever that ends up being. I tried to break my partnership withHome James but Nicola told me to stick it, who knew, but apparently she likesmy business acumen,” Robert let out a sigh. “I’ll try and be gonebefore Liv gets home, okay?”
“Robert, you don’t have to leave, and I’m going to havethe bank transfer this money back to your account,” Aaron said, taking astep closer to Robert and lowering his voice a little.
“You can’t, the account has been closed along with theone you used to use to transfer the scrap yard profits. Just take the money, Aaron, you don’t want to think of it asa divorce settlement, then think of it as compensation for all the pain andsuffering I put you through since wefirst met,” Robert said taking a step away from Aaron keeping him out ofarm’s length. The last thing he needed was to try and grab ahold of Aaron andnever let go.
“Fine, then I want my ring back Robert, it’smine,” Aaron said, folding his arms across his chest, which just madeRobert want to hold him even more.
“You gave it back to me, besides technically Ipurchased both rings, so it’s mine,” Robert said, not even sure why Aaronwould even want the damn thing.
“Robert, if this is a divorce then I want it back. It’smy ring,” Aaron said, his 'I’m super pissed at you, Robert face’ firmly inplace.
“No,” Robert insisted.
“Why?” Aaron asked, as Robert unconsciously put ahand on his chest.
“Because it makes me feel close to you, there, are youhappy?” Robert explained, feeling two inches tall and completely exposed.
“No, you know what, I don’t care, I want it back,”Aaron said, stepping into Robert’s personal space again and advancing untilthere was barely any space between them. “Hand it over.”
“Fine!” Robert shouted, he didn’t mean to but thethought of being without Aaron or his ring, of the ring just being tossed carelessly in a drawer and forgotten about,made things in Robert’s chest shift and shatter painfully.
Aaron watched as Robert pulled the necklace he’d beenwearing for weeks from around his neck and Robert saw the flush of shock andsomething else unreadable on Aaron’s face when he realised that Robert had kepthis ring so close all this time.
What was he going to do without it? It was his only tangibleconnection to the only man he’d ever loved, the only real family he’d everknown.
“Oh, and I want your car and the rest of the money too,”Aaron informed him like it was anafterthought and he took back his ring from Robert where he held it out.
“You what? What doyou expect me to do? Where do you expect me to live? Do you want me to behomeless?” Robert asked, totally confused at what Aaron was playing at.
“No, you can move intothe second flat at Mill until we sort all this out,” Aaron said, turning awayleaving Robert standing, bewilderment bleeding through every pore.
“Sort out what? I thought we were done? I thought that waswhat you wanted?” Robert didn’t want to push but this was the most Aaron hadspoken to him since he’d told Robert theywere done and this didn’t feel done, damn it.
“Sort out all of this,” Aaron said, turning back to faceRobert and pointing to his ring that he’d somehow managed to slip on his ringfinger without Robert even noticing. “And I was wrong…I’m not sure we’ll everbe over… I’m not done being angry with you yet, Robert, and I’m not done beinghurt, but I’m also not done loving you and I will work out a way to live witheverything that has happened. I’m not giving up this time.”
“I don’t understand what you want from me, Aaron,” Robertdidn’t dare to hope, to even begin to assume what Aaron wearing his ring mightactually mean for them.
“I just want some time and then maybe till we’re eightywouldn’t hurt either,” Aaron replied and gave him a small smile before turningonce again and leaving Robert standing alone again, but for the first time in months, he didn’t feel so alone.
Aaron didn’t want his money, he just didn’t want Robert tobe able to leave the village. He wanted Robert close. He’d asked for his ringback, demanded it really and Robert didn’t want to be happy yet, too afraid itmight all fall apart on him again, but Aaronwas wearing his ring and he said he wasn’t giving up.
That had to be worth something, right?
Robert could feel his face trying to smile, he couldn’tquite get there yet. There was too much pain and hurt, too much worry and fear,but maybe soon, maybe in some time, hemight be able to smile again with Aaron.
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theparaminds · 6 years ago
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Aimless. Drifting. Wandering. All words that summarize the fleeting moments before adulthood. For James Ivy, these words summarized the state he used to exist within. Yet now, he finds himself engulfed by the musical clarity he has continuously sought for. Finally, he is free from personal shackles and able to become an artistic individual of the most vulnerable and honest degree.
He admits himself that much of his music is aimed at conjuring up past nostalgia. But this is not simply so one can become reminiscent, no, it is also so that one becomes reflective. In the same way he’s had to trace his life and express the difficulties within his growth, he asks all to do the same. To find the voice tucked away behind walls of self-doubt. Of course, this is also in the pursuit of creating new memories, ones which are even greater than the past.
James Ivy isn’t just making music, he’s truly building a sonic landscape of understanding and expression. One that’s a warm hug on a cold day and a calming reassurance that all will be ok. It’s an environment where no mask is to be worn and where all can bare the depths of their souls without fear. It’s a freedom that all desire, and that all deserve. And if you were to currently summarize James and that landscape, you would simply say; hopeful, passionate and visionary.
This interview was recorded live in New York.
Our first question as always, how’s your day going and how have you been?
Good man, the day’s going good. I had class this morning and it's the last week of school before spring break. I’ve been just laying low a bit and, ya know, just living day by day.
To begin, one of my favorite things about you is your thigh tattoo of Bloo from Foster’s Home. When did you decide you were going to get that and what is the significance of Bloo to you?
I was always a big Cartoon Network stan. Disney channel not really, maybe some Nickelodeon, but Cartoon Network I always watched non-stop as a kid. I used to watch Foster’s Home a lot with my dad. I guess I don’t really care too much about the meanings of my tattoos, I have a house on my arm and it's just like a house, not really much more, just a cool house. The Bloo thing was sorta a spur of the moment where I was visiting friends in Austin, Texas and my friend Luke had just gotten the three line super S from when you're a kid on his arm, as kind of like a joke. And I was like, fuck, maybe I should get one. They egged me on and I just jumped to Bloo from Fosters’. They made it way bigger than I thought they were going to, and it was a super thick line too and hurt like hell. I mean, I guess what I told my parents was that in the show Bloo was the one imaginary friend that was never gonna be adopted because the kid who made him up, never stopped believing in him. So it’s a little corny but it is a cute sentiment about never losing your child side and your imagination.
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While growing, what else was it around you and coming throughout your life that was impacting your personal, but more so artistic, development?
I guess I started piano lessons when I was 6 with my mom, and my dad was helping me get into sports at the same time. I learned for 6 years on and off and I was better when I was younger, having lost some the skill. But it gave me a basic understanding of music theory. I listened to a lot of music growing up. Some of it was trash because I didn't have an older sibling to show me the way. My dad showed me bands like Genesis, Yes and Rush. Bands like that. My mom showed me New Order and a lot of new wave dance music. So it was a weird mix of shit, but I ultimately started getting into hip hop and a lot of post-hardcore music. I think that has been the most shaping music to me as an artist which is kinda crazy because  I almost resent it in a weird way. I wish I had been brought up listening to the classics because I had to find all that on my own. I started producing when I was around 13 or 14 years old.  My older cousin showed me a Skrillex song at a wedding in Florida for one of our relatives,  and I just remember being like “holy shit this is nuts.”. I didn’t have an in-depth understanding of electronic music at the time, but when you’re young and impressionable, anything that’s new or different sort of entices you. I got into producing electronic music and had some fun with it, but as I got older it wasn’t really creatively fulfilling. It's been a weird journey for sure and I still feel I’m learning and catching up in some regards.
But how would you reflect upon the past year specifically and the challenges and growth you’ve gone through currently compared to those of a younger you?
I really feel that since coming here to New York I’ve had some of the best experiences of my life. I met some of my best friends in my life. I feel like through the people I’ve been around, I’ve become directly inspired by them. Being in an environment where you have friends who are into music the same way you are, not just over the internet, it's amazing because you grow together and it has become exponential the way we have been growing as artists. I even look at the stuff I was doing with Harry freshman year and I thought it was the best shit ever, and now we realize how far we actually have come. It's exciting.
In your honest opinion, what is the greatest album ever created or at least one you have been constantly coming back to?
Phewwww. Putting me on the spot. It changes all the time, and I definitely can't speak for the best ever created from an objective view. There’s this Dance Gavin Dance record that I’ve been listening to since I was a kid, so I guess I have nostalgia glasses on for it. It’s called Downtown Battle Mountain 2.  If I were to name one album that I’ve heard since coming to college that has been my favorite, it would be Heaven or Las Vegas by the Cocteau Twins. I can’t believe I was sleeping on that album for so long.. A lot of the writing on that record still blows my mind when I listen to it.
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Going into these next months, where are you trying to steer your creative vision towards and what are you trying to say with some of the new work you're putting out?
A lot of my writing recently has been a real process for sure. I'm still learning every day and trying to improve. For a while, I was testing myself to write lyrics that are simple on paper but that can be impactful in context of the instrumental surrounding it. Some of my favorite artists, like American Pleasure Club and Dijon, have lyrics that aren't overly complicated but hit home for some reason. I think that's what I was shooting for. But more recently, I’ve been trying more to construct lyrics that mean a lot to me, because for a while I got into a bad habit of detaching from the music a little bit and creating stuff that was for other people, so to speak. A lot of the new stuff is based on memories for me. I want songs to sonically sound like memories that I have. There are certain songs for me that are places and events and time frames in my life, and capturing that nostalgia and bringing it into a form that’s tangible is what I’m trying to accomplish.
What was then some of your personal best memories growing up and why do they mean so much to your life?
The summer of 8th grade. Being on my bike and being a kid freely every single day. I grew up in a suburban town in New Jersey so there’s not much to do besides biking around going to the school to play basketball and swim in people’s pools. That was so fun.  The bliss you can experience during that period of childhood innocence is hard to emulate that at any other point in our lives. Summer before college is another really great memory in my head. It’s sorta like how you feel in middle school, but you’re way older, and it’s a lot different. It’s more coming of age shit that’s happening then.
Then would you say you create for yourself as a personal reflection and therapy and just see the way others take it as an afterthought?
I think it varies song to song. I think my stance on it is from this quote that said that there comes a time after you put out your music that it no longer is only yours. I think that's the best way to put it. There are songs that I can’t listen to anymore that I made, but seeing other people resonate with them means a lot, even if I can’t relate to that song anymore. But seeing other people enjoying it is the best feeling. For a while, I couldn’t even comprehend that people were enjoying my music, so when you really see that in action it’s like a dumbfounding feeling. There’s a youtube video of ‘Boxcutter’ and everyone's just telling their life stories in the comments and seeing that is such a trip. I feel like a lot of songs I write quick are therapy songs, like Sick 1999. I find with those I write a sort of stream of consciousness. I wrote Sick after a super raw and emotional moment in my life. I just sat 30 minutes later and wrote it and released it later that night. That's therapy because you're not sick of it yet by killing yourself going through the mixing processes and editing process and scrutinizing every detail. You just did it and you have to sit with it. It's cathartic. If it can help people also that's amazing.
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As well, what are some of the goals and overall plans you hope to see through with your new work?
I’m stoked for this year. I’m finishing songs right now that have been in the works since last summer. Some of them have been as recent as last week. I’m just stoked to finish everything and I’ll just be able to release it. I don't want to set anything in stone but there will be music on the way. I also want to start creating more music videos, working on my live show more and really stepping back into the radar again after taking some time to figure out my sound. And then just roll from there.
Do you hope in the rest of your life to touch on other forms of art and into new avenues of music that you may not have thought of currently?
With music, I’d definitely love to try every part of the process. For example, for a while I didn't like my voice and tried to have someone else do it, but I couldn’t imagine that and had to push through the fear. I like having my hands in the creative process so I feel like I want to do everything. Whether that’s directing music videos for my songs that I have concepts for or even just cinematography and editing would be so exciting. I would love to take my music into scoring and films as a long term dream. I just want to be able to create and feel inspired by the world every morning. That's the ultimate goal.
If you could have any one individual, living or dead, come back and critique your music, who would you choose and why them?
Man. I feel like right away my mind goes to Rick Rubin. I just feel like it’s like, “That's the guy who listens to things and tells you what exactly to do!” I’m not sure if it's him definitively, though. I would love to hear what Justin Vernon would have to say or even like Kevin Parker to be honest.
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You mentioned for a minute the opportunity of doing live shows. When you do explore that avenue more, how do you hope to make it personal to you and make it a worthwhile experience?
I just want people to have a good time and for them to jam out and dance their asses off. So, I’m trying to make music that’s danceable. I want to recreate the song as best to my ability while also incorporating live instruments. I really want to move forward with having a live band for the upcoming shows, while also incorporating some of the electronic and digital elements that can’t be recreated with an instrument live. I would hate for people to hear my music and come to my show and be like, this isn't as fun as the record. I just want my live show to be fun and I think right now that's what I’m focused on above all. I think performance art is also something I would love to incorporate later down the line, to see it become more cinematic as well. For now, I’m just trying to make it sound tight as fuck.
If you could play a show in one situation or location, where the money isn’t a question, where would you choose?
I don’t know really, maybe Mars? Call up Space X, like “Elon, send me to Mars so I can play the first set on another planet.”
As an overall, what do you want to be the landmarking importance of James Ivy when it’s all said and done? What do you want the first line of your Wikipedia page to say?
I want it to say: ‘James Ivy, the first Asian American artist to ever ‘do it’. Of course, there are a lot of upcoming artists like Joji and Mitski and Yaeji, but I think there's more room for Asian American representation within this scene as a whole. Anyone can do it now, literally, and I don't want to be defined by the way I look to not do something and I think other kids should be able to see someone who looks like them on stage.  And if I could do that for other kids, it would be the best thing, really.
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Would you say then, the whole part of it is showing there’s no limit on creativity and art as a whole?
It’s something that I want to prove to myself. Something I’ve wanted for a while and it’s something I’ve wanted really bad. Part of it is proving it to myself, that I can do this and that pre-existing barriers don’t matter. Through that, you also prove it to others and I think that’s essential. At the end of the day, I would just be happy to live off music, but to be an inspiration for others in that position would mean the most.
Do you have anyone to shoutout? The floor is yours...
All my friends in New York: Harry, Caleb, Ally, my boys since freshman year. Shoutout to Been Stellar. Shoutout to Instupendo, Maxwell young, Stupidrichkid. They're all doing such great things. And shoutout to my friends from Texas, they know who they are and they’ve helped me a lot. And shoutout to Paraminds, man, thanks for letting me do this interview.
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Photos by Drake Li
Words and Interview by Guy Mizrahi
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