#my friends are very confused on why i like marvin so much but like
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totheidiot ¡ 5 months ago
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i feel about marvin the paranoid android the exact same way i feel about breekon and hope.
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sefusian ¡ 1 month ago
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FINALLY A SNEAKPEEK FOR MY TWOSHOT YAYYYY
RAHHHHH i’m finally making progress w my fic that is too many months due 😭 id link the google docs but i wanna keep the actual wip private for now so ill just post what i have here for now :,)
(working) synopsis: marvin has a dream about still being stuck in his old life, married to trina. whizzer comforts him back to consciousness.
tw: detailed description of a panic attack, thoughts of d34th/su!c!dal ideation
— start under the cut —
It had been an exhausting day at work for Marvin. Because of the sudden influx of people quitting, he had to take on an extra workload to maintain productivity. On top of the headache of sitting through Black Friday traffic, Marvin was more than eager to finally return home to relax with his lover.
He sighed as he pushed open the front door, shrugging his jacket off.
“Babe, I’m-”
Upon entering his home, he instantly realized that it was very different but also…very familiar. It wasn’t until his eyes fell upon the wooden mezuzah that the fear finally settled in.
”Honey, are you home?”
Marvin’s blood ran cold when he heard his wife’s sickeningly sweet voice call out from deeper within. He could only hope that she thought it was Mendel at the door, but something about the all too familiar lilt in her voice told him otherwise. Despite this, something compelled him to continue into the house towards the kitchen where Trina was carelessly making dinner. Marvin could feel his palms start to get uncomfortably clammy and a gut-wrenching feeling building that he hated all too much - sensations he’d never miss at all. And when Trina spun around to greet him, sporting that overly fond look that made his head spin and heart pound in all the wrong ways, he wished he couldn’t remember any of it at all.
“Sorry, Marvin, but dinner will just be in a bit. But I could prepare some tea in the meantime,” Trina dusted her hands on the front of her apron, smiling sweetly at him as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. When she went to peck him on the cheek, Marvin could feel the sickening pit in his stomach grow significantly larger. 
He thought he’d yell at her, push her away, spite her and tell her how much of a failure of a wife she was for not having dinner on time.
But all he wanted at that moment was to get out. Be out.
Out of this room, out of this house, and back into his car to drive away.
Away to his real house, his real lover.
But yet he stayed, stuck in her kitchen with his feet practically bolted to the ground. The powerlessness and lack of control felt so paralyzing, suffocating him further.
Why was he here?
Marvin started to panic.
Why couldn’t he move?
“Where’s…” Marvin panted out.
Why couldn’t he breathe?
“Where’s Whizzer?”
“Whizzer?” Trina furrowed her brows in confusion as she played with her ring. Marvin couldn’t bear to see it again. “Like your friend, Whizzer Brown?” She mused, and Marvin could see his vision start to blur. All he could do was nod weakly, “I’m not quite sure, darling. You know we aren’t that well-acquainted with each other yet. Maybe you could give him a call to see if he’s home?”
And as if by a miracle, Marvin could move again. So, he immediately jumped on the chance to finally rush out of the kitchen, away from Trina’s nauseating, womanly presence, to the landline mounted on the wall - he distinctly remembered visiting it frequently to call Whizzer everytime Trina was out or asleep. He hastily dialed the number to their apartment, anxiously wrapping the cord around his finger and tugging at it. In the corner of his eye, he could see Trina carrying out their freshly-made dinner to the table, setting it up neatly as she always had before, when they were still together: still okay, still normal. When she was done, he could see her eyeing him cautiously, taking on a worried stance by her seat as he kept trying to find a connection, alas to no avail. His breath started to quicken as fast as the error tone on the phone.
What the fuck was happening? And where was Whizzer?
His fingers trembled as he continued desperately trying to get out of this confusing, terrifying wrench back to his old life - the sick game he thought he was truly well and done with.
The light treading of Trina’s feet were heard as loud as the incessant and aggravating ticking of the clock hanging above Marvin. He tensed as she brushed a soft hand down his shoulder, barely hearing whatever she was saying over the sound of his heart practically beating out of his chest. At one point he could feel his stomach drop and the iciness of his fingertips grow colder as he realized that oh - he was on the floor. The chill only ran further through his entire body as the phone, still hanging off its cord, continued to beep loudly beside his ear. Marvin desperately tried to catch his breath using his entire chest. The nausea was rapidly building up to the point where he just wanted to throw up, or just anything.
No, no, no, no.
“Marvin.”
He clasped his hands over his ears, painfully digging the heels of his palms against his temples. No more.
”Marvin.”
Fat tears rolled down his face, a violent cry rupturing from his throat and puking all over his senses. His fingers yanked at disheveled curls and tugged harshly, pulling and pulling until the pounding in his head grew unbearable.
“Marvin.”
He screamed at the clutch on his arm and thrashed around frantically to escape its incoming embrace. The scorching feeling of compassion and care rotting deep into his skin.
Out now.
He wanted out.
NOW.
“Marvin?”
Marvin scratched at its clothed chest, pushing against it ferociously and wishing its ribs would crack and shatter all over his arms. Decorate it a pretty mess. Just like him. But he wasn’t pretty. He just wanted the red to spill all over him and hold him - a horrible, awful mess. Engulf him enough to drown him in its horrific, comforting depths where there was no seizure to be had. Not a giddy moment to last.
Not anymore.
The arms that held him tightly drew one of its hands to play with the beautiful, scruffy mess on Marvin’s head. He could feel it scratch his scalp oh so lovingly, and Marvin wanted to die. The moment was so beautiful it made him want to die. He’d be happy to die right then and there. He’d be happy to die in fear’s comforting embrace. He’d be happy to die with-
“Marvin, baby. Shhh. It’s okay.”
When Marvin looked up from the little nook he was tucked in, he didn’t see the smiling face of a woman he couldn’t love. Instead, warm, loving brown eyes met his own dull, dingy blue, and all comfort he felt in that moment instantly dissolved, now replaced with pure embarrassment. Marvin quickly scrambled out of his lover’s arms until his back slammed into something short and solid. He looked down and realized that he wasn’t on the floor anymore.
How did he get on the couch?
—
slow but steady progress guys !!!! pls like, reblog, or comment if u liked this so far. having others engage in my work is rlly helpful because its good incentive for me to continue (and im still a little self-conscious abt showing my writing to others) ty 👉👈
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ashtonisvibing ¡ 1 year ago
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"I kissed a boy, and I liked it"
Fandom: Jacksepticeye Egos
Alternate Universe: None? (Jackie isn't a hero in this universe)
Ship(s): Marvelsepticeye
Character(s): Jackieboy Man, Marvin the Magnificent
Warning(s): Alcohol, Sexual Actions(?)
Originally Published: Aug. 30th, 2023
Author's Notes:
so, you guys ever heard of that way better cover of "i kissed a girl", by jupither where it's instead gay (mlm)?
yeah so what if that but it's marvelsepticeye? but also minus the "hope my girlfriend don't mind it", only cuz i feel like it tbh. jackie's single here. and it's more loose inspiration (just the "kissing a fellow guy and getting confused by liking it" bit)
jackie thinking he's straight as a ruler until BOOM, hot guy comes walking up to him at a club
turns out he's very much not straight-
uhhhhh please note that i have NOT written people making out in... a while, so this might turn out like complete shit, and i apologize for that. but hey, can't get better if you don't start somewhere, right?? just be lucky i'm not turning this into a smut piece like i'm thinking of doing, the cringe levels with that writing would be off the charts- unless you guys would be fine with that then i dunno, part two maybe??? you'd have to watch a guy try to fumble around trying to describe sex LMAO
also, you might notice me using masculine terms for marvin. while yes, (my fanon interpretation of) marvin uses they/them pronouns, they're also just totally cool with masc terms! they're fine with any terms, i just sort of default to masc terms with them lol. but don't you worry, i'm not misgendering them, they just got that fun gender where they don't care.
okay, that's it, let's see some guys kiss!
jackie: he/him
marvin: they/them
Full Story:
Clubs were always too loud and too bright for Jackie to enjoy them like everyone else. He could barely stand to look at the flashing lights, and the music was so loud he couldn't hear anyone. That was ignoring the multiple conversations he could hear around him. He couldn't make out a single one, there were too many speaking at once. And that didn't help when someone tried to talk directly to him. It was like their voice became blended with the sea of others. The only safe spot to keep him from developing a migraine was the bar, but even then he'd need noise cancelling headphones to keep the voices from overstimulating him. It didn't help that he also got weird looks from the other bar patrons because all he ordered was a glass of water. He just hated the taste of any alcohol, no matter how much added mixings you might put into them.
The only reason he was even here tonight was because a friend of his wanted to celebrate their birthday here. And despite knowing that clubs were a sensory nightmare for him, they still begged Jackie to come along, even claiming that he was "trying to ruin their birthday". He... Really didn't understand why he still hung around his friends. They never really seemed to respect his boundaries, and he'd laid those out several times for them. He didn't have his car with him but he could easily just call a cab and leave, and he doubted any of them would even notice. They were too absorbed in the dance floor. That's how these club outings always went.
He was just about to pull out his wallet to pay for his water when someone sat down next to him. A man, seemingly a few inches shorter than himself, with long lavender purple hair tied into a loose braid. There were patches of burn scars on their face, hands, and neck, and those were the only ones that could be seen thanks to their long sleeved black dress and tights. Honestly they looked like they were somewhat dressed for Halloween with how much of a witch-y vibe Jackie got from their outfit. And god, were they gorgeous. Jackie didn't need to be queer to recognize that. They had such an elegant and mysterious aura to them, and he took one look and just wanted to know more about them. He wanted to know everything about them.
"So, what's a hot guy like you doing all alone here, hm~?" The person practically purred as they looked over at Jackie, a soft and playful smirk on their lips. Now that they were facing him, Jackie could see that the four card suits were drawn onto their forehead in a diamond layout. Or maybe even tattooed? Their eyes were also a vibrant blue and purple, seemingly glowing in the slight darkness that the bar area provided. But the strangest part of all was their voice. It was a heavenly sound to Jackie, almost hypnotic by how it pulled him in. But it also sounded so... Clear. Like every other voice was immediately drowned out the moment they spoke. But that didn't seem possible, maybe Jackie was just so curious about this person that he could push past the conversations for once.
"Just enjoying a glass of water. And considering leaving." Jackie yelled over the music and voices so the other person could hear him, just in case the noise was too much for them as well. But they just simply laughed and quickly ordered themself a drink; a Bramble, no ice.
"No need to yell handsome, I can hear you loud and clear." They chuckled softly, leaning an elbow against the bar top. "But then again, wonder what other ways you could yell~"
That caused Jackie's brain to just stop all trains of thought it had. Oh, okay, this guy was flirting with him. He didn't really know what to think right now, he'd never had anyone besides women flirt with him. And he never expected to actually... He quickly shook his head in the hopes he could clear his head and make his bright red cheeks fade back to their usual paleness. He didn't know why he suddenly got flustered like that, this had never happened before.
"So- Sorry, you've got the wrong guy, I'm straight." Jackie mumbled a little as he took a sip of his water to try and calm himself down. And to try and ignore how weird it felt to say that. A bad kind of weird. "I'm sure there's plenty of other guys that would love someone like you trying to get into their pants.
The mystery person simply hummed as they took a sip of their own drink now that they had it, swirling it absentmindedly in their hand. "Really now? Never seen a straight guy blush that hard over my words. But hey, what's one quick fuck? Or will that hurt your masculinity too much?"
That got Jackie to nearly choke on his water. He coughed a few times to get his throat cleared before looking back at the other. "Look, I don't know who you are, but you're being a little bit of a dick. I'm sorry I'm the first guy who didn't wanna fuck you, I guess." Oh wow, someone who actually bit back. The other person had to take a moment before just... Smiling, extending a hand to Jackie. Their fingernails were painted a crimson sparkly red.
"Marvin, they/them. Pleased to meet someone who actually has a back bone." They chuckled a little. Jackie looked at the hand held out to him like this was a trick. Marvin had just insulted him a second ago. But he still shook it nonetheless, albeit with slight caution.
"Jackie, he/him. Please to meet someone who spits venom, I guess."
That got a laugh this time from Marvin. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget to hold my tongue, it gets me into so much trouble you see." They leaned their head on their folded hands, propped up by their elbows. "But you must admit, quite strange of someone so straight to become so easily flustered, especially with no alcohol. I hadn't even reached my peak."
"You just- Caught me off guard, that's all." Jackie quickly looked away from the other lest his returning blush be shown. He hated that Marvin wasn't really wrong. There was something about them that sparked a feeling in his heart, one he'd certainly never felt before, not even from any women he'd been with. And it was scary. There was nothing wrong with being attracted to other genders, obviously. But he never liked change, even now. Change was unpredictable, he couldn't rationalize it. He didn't know if this was temporary or meant to last, this new feeling.
Marvin only gave a little nod in response, finishing their drink and pulling out the money needed to pay for it. "I'm not one to be lied to, darling. I can read people all too well." When they looked at Jackie, they didn't have a flirty smirk or a condescending look. Just a small smile that actually seemed genuine. "But hey, you clearly don't want to be here. Overstimulating, I'm assuming. You've been wanting to leave for a while. Why not leave with someone you can talk to? Nothing more than that, I promise." They chuckled a little and stood from their stool. "I know when I need to keep my hands to myself."
Okay, at the very least they weren't trying to invite him over for any sort of sex. He thought it over for a few moments. It scared him so much, not knowing what this feeling in his chest was. But at the same time... He wanted to know more. He wanted to discover who Marvin was, even if just for the night. Maybe he'd be able to figure out this feeling if he went. And it wasn't like his friends- No, not really friends. It wasn't like the people he came here with would care. He could just block their numbers if any of them tried contacting him. So with a shrug he stood up as well, placing his pay under his glass and putting his jean jacket on. "Alright, lead me to your place, then."
That brought a smile to Marvin's lips. As said they could easily read people like they were open books, and Jackie posed no challenge. They could see that curiosity now showing in him, over both themself and what happened with himself earlier. And that's why they invited him over: To hopefully help him learn something about himself, in whatever way they needed. Marvin didn't say a word, just taking Jackie's hand and quickly leading him outside and into the alleyway next to the club. Jackie just let himself get towed along. Maybe their car was parked behind the building. But when they stopped halfway through the alley he got confused.
"Um, I don't think this is where we can get a car from."
"Oh trust me hun, we don't need a car." Marvin chuckled. "Just for some privacy." They then held a finger up in front of them, and as they drew shapes in the air those same shapes appeared in front of them both, glowing a soft teal. And once they were done drawing they tapped the middle of the shapes, causing them to glow brighter until they revealed a living room. A portal right into a living room. Jackie backed away a little. There was a portal, right in front of them.
"What the fuck...??" Was the most he could muster. Marvin only chuckled before they stepped in and disappeared into the still image, their hand poking out a second later and beckoning Jackie to follow. He knew, logically, he should be running. He should be trying to wake himself up, there was no way he wasn't sleeping right now. But his curiosity was so peaked right now that he really didn't care. He needed to know what the fuck was currently in front of him. So he decided to take the hand poking out from the portal, just in case something might go wrong, and let himself walk through. And he was in the living room that the portal displayed. And no limbs were missing or suddenly a different color, nor were his clothes suddenly gone. He stepped through and was perfectly safe. And now standing pretty much chest to chest with Marvin, who was letting soft giggles that they couldn't help.
"Pretty good for someone who's never seen magic before, I was fully expecting you to have run off on your heels." Marvin giggled, unknowingly intertwining their fingers together. Just something about how their slightly smaller hand fit into Jackie's so nicely... It had a cozy feeling to it that he wanted to keep for as long as he could.
"Holy shit, that was actually magic..." Jackie ran a hand through his hair before letting out a soft laugh. He actually just experienced magic. Magic, that shouldn't be real, yet there it was. Maybe he really was just dreaming right now. He didn't know when he could have run into someone like Marvin in real life, but that didn't matter. For the moment he just let himself believe without turning to logic and reason. Just to let himself have a little bit of wonder for once. "That was magic, you just used magic."
Marvin found it adorable how excited the other was over such a discovery. Some simply didn't believe them, no matter how many tricks they pulled. Others just ran away out of fear. Jackie was the first to react so positively, and with such joy as well. They were thanking their lucky stars that they met this man tonight. "And I can pull off a lot more than just portals, hun." They giggled softly and tugged at Jackie's hand that was still in theirs (the realization of it making Jackie blush), guiding him to the U shaped couch and sitting him down in the middle. "I'm going to go make myself some tea." They said as they walked out of the room, presumably to the kitchen. "You want any?" They called out.
"Oh, uh, no thanks. More of a coffee guy personally." Jackie responded. And now that he was alone in the room he had the chance to look around and observe all of the surface level things. The living room had a very dark magic vibe, having a dark blue, purple, and red color scheme to it. Against the wall in front of him was a television stand with the standard things: TV, internet box, blueray player, as well as several movies stacked in the side cubbies of the stand. A coffee table stood in the middle of the couch with a stack of moon shaped coasters off to the side. Silk drapes and glow-in-the-dark stars hung from the ceiling to give an even more magical vibe. There were two shelves on either side of the TV that were filled with books, photos, and various knick knacks. He wanted to get a closer look at the photos to see who or what was in them, but he didn't want to be too intrusive. He didn't know how much of their private life Marvin wanted to give out to a complete stranger.
After a few minutes Marvin returned with their tea, sitting down next to Jackie and setting their cup down atop one of the coasters. "So, what do you think?"
"Um- About what?"
"About my living room, silly." They laughed softly, which pulled a sheepish blush to Jackie's cheeks. "Obviously you were looking around at it. But you don't seem like the type to snoop in other people's drawers so I trust you."
"Well, it's... Definitely you. I- If that makes sense." Jackie shrugged a little as he took a quick glance over everything. "Like, when I look at you, this is definitely what I can expect from a living room. At the very least." He rubbed the back of his neck once his eyes returned back to the person across from himself. "Sorry, that probably makes no sense."
Marvin just chuckled and picked up his tea, taking a sip now that it was a little cooler. At least not so hot that it would burn their mouth off. "It's actually the best reaction I've gotten. Every other guy I've brought home has told me it's so dreary, that I need some color or whatever. I suppose it's a good thing that they were all one night stands."
"So what, picking up guys from bars is a common occurrence for you?" Jackie laughed softly. He already knew the answer for that if their interaction at the bar was any indication of how the magician acted around other men. "But I've never been one to judge people on their taste in... Whatever. I guess unless it's, like, genuinely harmful or something. But this just looks like a vampire threw up over everything." Marvin had to keep themself from laughing lest they choked on their tea. Thankfully they got it down and just turned into a coughing fit. Jackie immediately bolted up in his seat when he noticed, rubbing the other's back in a poor attempt to help a little. "Shit- Are you okay?? I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to almost kill you."
"No, no-" Another couple of coughs interrupted Marvin's sentence. "Don't worry, you're fine." They chuckled a little before clearing their throat to try and get rid of the tickling feeling now sitting there. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Nearly choked on my tea from laughing."
Jackie let out a small breath of relief. Admittedly he was scared that maybe the magician would have been upset at him for making a joke while they had tea in their mouth. "Well, it would've been a hell of a way to go then." He let out his own little chuckle, earning a small laugh from Marvin.
"Truly would have been one of the stranger possibilities. But to answer your question, yes. But you're the first one to not push me against the wall and shove a tongue down my throat so... You at the very least have class." And now it was Jackie's turn to nearly choke, but this time it was on air and out of complete surprise. He needed to get used to Marvin's bluntness over everything, even intimate details like that.
"I- I mean, there's also the obvious bit of me being straight, so of course I wouldn't do that."
"Denial doesn't look pretty on you, hun." The magician hummed as they took another sip of their tea.
"I-" Jackie was about to protest. But the words got caught in his throat, and he really had to consider if it was worth it to just... Keep ignoring this feeling in his chest over the person next to him. He didn't know how long it would last... Maybe he could get some answers. "Is it really that obvious...?"
"With how much you bring up your lack of gay, yes." Marvin chuckled a little, earning a sigh from the other, who was running his hands through his hair.
"I just-... I've never felt this way about any other gender." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his foot tapping out of a need to do something. He always got like this when having important talks, and this was very clearly important. "But then you come along and... Not to get too personal, but suddenly I've got this want to pull you in and make out with you. And I don't even think it's cuz you present femininely, but I don't know what else it could be besides... Apparently I'm gayer than I thought!" He did little jazz hands as he exclaimed. "And obviously, there's nothing wrong with that. But when you think you're one way your entire life and suddenly something happens and you're now something else..."
"It can be really scary, yeah." Marvin interjected, looking down at the scars on their hands. "I get that, trust me. Maybe a little more than you." They then shifted themself so that they could be closer to Jackie's face. "But you've got the urge to make out with me? Well, why not go for it then?"
Yeah, Jackie really needed to get used to that bluntness.
"Wh- Because I've literally never met you before tonight??" He backed away a little when he realized just how close Marvin had gotten. His cheeks were now red and he was looking at literally anything but the magician in front of him. And there was that urge again. To grab this person by the face and see what their lips tasted like. And he really couldn't push it down now. "I'm not going to just kiss a stranger without permission."
The magician then gave a shrug and a playful smirk in response. "I give you permission then. Go on. You don't seem like the kind of guy to try and take advantage of me, not in this state anyways. That and I could easily overpower you with a quick spell. But let's see if maybe this feeling is a one off thing. And if it is, no need for a sexuality crisis."
Okay, Marvin was really opening the floor for this. They were fine with Jackie experimenting with them. He was... A little thankful for that, honestly. At least he was experimenting with someone he probably had a genuine interest in. And so, he gave a nod for confirmation, leaning back in to Marvin to rest a hand on their cheek.
"Just, um, let me know if I do anything wrong. First kiss with a guy and all that."
That got a laugh out of Marvin. "I don't think it's any different than kissing a woman. But I've never kissed a woman, so who knows. Just... Do whatever feels right." They couldn't help as they bit their lip a little from anticipation. Jackie wasn't the only one who'd been having strange new feelings towards a complete stranger. The magician had felt a pull towards the other this entire night, something they hadn't ever felt towards someone before. They wanted to do so much more with this man, and for once they weren't even thinking about sex. To even just lay in his arms seemed like it would be a blessing. Jackie only gave another nod, taking a few seconds to prepare himself before finally connecting their lips.
Cherry. Marvin's lips tasted like cherry. He hadn't noticed any lipstick, so maybe this was lip balm. It was a surprising taste, he would've never associated them with cherries. But he loved it all the same. He loved this kiss all the same.
It remained slow at first, with Marvin making sure they let Jackie control the speed the entire time. They didn't want to possibly go too fast and overwhelm the other, no matter how much they wanted to. Jackie's lips on theirs felt like a breath of fresh air. Like they could finally breathe after having waited all night. And when Jackie wrapped an arm around his waist to pull them closer they were quick to respond with an arm around his shoulders, their other hand reaching up to undo his hairbun and tangle their fingers into his hair. And that pulled a hum from Jackie that nearly sent shivers down their spine. Oh if that simple hum caused such a reaction who knows what the other sounds that Jackie had would do to them.
Unfortunately the kiss didn't last for much longer, as Jackie pulled away for air, leaving them both staring at each other as soft pants left their lips. "So... How was that...?" Marvin spoke softly once they caught their breath enough.
"Good... Really good..." The other spoke just as softly. He didn't want to break whatever atmosphere had been created.
It only took a second for Marvin to be pulled back in for another kiss, much to their pleasant surprise. But this one was much harder, needier than the last one. It nearly turned the magician's brain to putty from the rush of emotions they were getting. And Jackie felt all the same, plus so much more right now. He didn't know why he kept himself in denial for so long if this is how amazing the kiss would feel. It didn't even matter if this was only his first with a guy, it was enough for him to know he wanted it all from Marvin.
A soft noise of annoyance and displeasure came out of him when it was Marvin's turn to pull away. But it was only to place a hand on his shoulder and push him back against the couch, now straddling his hips as the kiss resumed. Evidently the magician was a touchy one. Jackie's arms and shoulders weren't left alone from Marvin's hands. Those hands found themselves moving down to the other's torso, and with a hitched breath and slight arch of his back they were given permission to slip their hands up his shirt to keep feeling around. Jackie was a sensitive one when it came to touch, the magician was learning. His back was almost painfully arched into their hands, and they were sure that if they weren't making out right now they'd be hearing loud moans and whimpers from the other.
And Jackie managed to get some revenge for it. All it took was a little nip at their lip and a slip of his tongue for Marvin to become weak in his arms. Not like Jackie wasn't practically the same way, he was glad that his brain hadn't been turned to mush from all that he was feeling. The way their hands trailed over every inch of his chest, all of the soft moans he was managing to pull from them, the knee now pressing itself and rubbing a little against his crotch.
He was quick to pull away at that new feeling, gently pushing Marvin's knee away a little bit. The magician hadn't even realized what they were doing, but they were filled with dread with how fast the other stopped them. Maybe they'd completely ruined this now. "Shit, I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't even realize... I was moving too fast..."
Jackie shook his head at that as his grip tightened around the magician's waist, taking a second to catch his breath. "No, you're good, I... I just got thrown off is all.." He chuckled a little, his eyes now meeting Marv's. And theirs looked quite happy that they hadn't ruined anything. "But if we're going that far I think a bed will be better than the couch, yeah~?" Oh stars, help Marvin. That voice was enough to drive him up the walls.
"Yes, please~"
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crystalninjaphoenix ¡ 2 years ago
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Colder in the Summertime
Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Nine
A JSE Fanfic
There’s not a lot of the supernatural in this part, but it’s important anyway. Oh boy. It’s very important. The boys have a meeting about what they should do before summer vacation ends. Afterwards, Chase’s mom sits him down and explains exactly why Schneep is staying with them. And, uh, the reason isn’t a happy one. I’ll leave you to your reading from there. Fun fact, the title for this part is a lyric from a song that I listened to over and over while writing it. Bonus points to anyone who gets it :)
++++++++++++++++++++
It was no longer the height of summer, but Zelly’s Soda and Ice Cream was still pretty busy. The whole gang—Chase, Schneep, Jackie, and the twins—had claimed a table near the back of the restaurant. It was a bit emptier back here, but there were still plenty of people nearby. Hopefully they were all busy with their own stuff and weren’t listening in on the five’s conversation.
“So did you end up getting a job here, Jackie?” Marvin asked. “They don’t have that sign in the window anymore.”
“Yep,” Jackie said. “Sylvester did, too. Both of us are part-time.”
“Are they gonna make you start working soon? Do we have to hurry through talking?”
Jackie laughed. “No, that’s not how jobs work. They don’t make you do stuff whenever they see you, they make a schedule for you to follow. Like school. I don’t have a shift today.”
“That’s so cool!” Chase gasped. “I’d love to work somewhere with food. Do you get free ice cream?”
“I get a discount, yeah,” Jackie said. “That’s how I was able to buy this.” He indicated the basket of cheesy fries on the table. “And how I’m going to be able to buy all the stuff you guys order. Do you think it’s a good idea to have all that sugar?”
What are you, our mom? JJ asked. Marvin laughed.
“No, but I don’t want to hear from your moms about you guys having a sugar rush,” Jackie said. “Anyway. School’s starting soon.”
Chase groaned loudly. Ah, yes. School was only a couple weeks away. Summer was going to end. And when that happened, everything would change. Schneep would go back to Germany, Jackie would be in a different year with more homework, and it would become a lot harder to hang out with Marvin and Jameson without kids in his school making fun of him for being friends with weirdos. Even if the twins were fun, nice weirdos. Kids didn’t care if you were fun or nice, just if you were different.
“Not very excited, I see,” Jackie muttered, looking around the table. In addition to Chase’s groan, Jameson made a face, Schneep had gone pale, and Marvin leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling with an expression of vague but certain doom.
“School fucking sucks!” Marvin shouted.
“Don’t be so loud,” Schneep said, glancing around. Several people had looked at their table.
“I was being loud?” Marvin asked, confused. He looked at JJ. “Was I being loud?” JJ shrugged. “Well. I was loud because school really fucking sucks. It’s noisy and boring and crowded and shitty.”
“I don’t wanna do exams,” Chase muttered. “I hate exams.”
It’s the pressure, JJ agreed. They’re timed, and worth so much of your grade, too.
“I think exams are fine,” Schneep said quietly, a bit shy to go against the others. “Once they are done, they are done. It is the studying at home that is...bad.”
“What’re you worried about? You’re, like, a genius,” Chase said jokingly.
Schneep looked at him, then quickly looked away, saying nothing.
“Back to my point,” Jackie said. “When school starts, we’re all gonna be busy. It’ll be harder to get free time to investigate the weird stuff around town. So, before that happens, we need to handle the biggest weird thing we can find. The one that’ll take a lot of time and planning. And I have an idea what. Do you remember that giant dog that broke into Chase’s house?”
“No, I forgot about that,” Chase said sarcastically.
Jackie smiled a bit. “Well, I think we need to find that and take care of it.”
Take care of it how? Jameson asked.
“I don’t know. We need to figure that out.”
“Are we gonna kill a dog?” Marvin gasped. “I don’t wanna kill a dog!”
“You are still a bit loud,” Schneep pointed out, glancing around uneasily.
“We don’t have to go that far,” Jackie hurriedly said. “Not if we don’t have to. Just...get it out of town.”
Marvin let out a breath of relief.
When does school start, again? Jameson asked. I’m asking so we know our deadline.
“The fifteenth,” Chase said. “Mom’s made sure I know.”
“That’s my birthday,” Schneep mumbled.
Your birthday’s coming up? Jameson said, surprised. It starts on the first day of school?
Schneep nodded.
JJ grinned. Happy birthday! How old are you going to be?
“Twelve.”
“That’s so cool,” Marvin added. “I mean, it kind of sucks that it’s on the first school day, because then you can’t have a party actually on your birthday. We’ll have to have one the Saturday before or something. Ooo, what do you want? I bet JJ can convince our parents to buy you a good present. They might want you to buy us a good present in return, though. Which sucks because then it’s not really a present if you’re getting something for it. Besides our birthday is on Halloween and that’s like two months away, so who really wants to already be roped into—”
“No way,” Chase interrupted. “Your birthday is not on Halloween.”
“It fucking is,” Marvin said. “That’s how come I have such strong magic, because I was born on the witches’ new year.”
“No, I don’t believe you. That’s like having your birthday on Christmas.”
“People have their birthdays on Christmas all the time!”
Chase, that is ACTUALLY our birthday, JJ jumped in. I know what you’re thinking, but I promise you, we were born on October 31st.
“Really?” Chase stared at him, still a bit doubtful. Jameson would easily back up one of Marvin’s... witch things. But he looked sincere. “Huh. That’s funny.”
“We’ll all get everyone presents for their birthdays when they come up,” Jackie said. “But right now, we need to focus.”
“How are we supposed to take care of the big dog?” Schneep asked quietly. “It is...big. And we have no clue where it is.”
“I was looking around for that, actually,” Jackie said. “There’s been a lot of sightings of wolves and wild animals in the neighborhoods. A few attacks. Nobody’s been killed, thank god, but there have been injuries. Oh, hang on.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a street map of Hollewych, which had probably been taken from his car. “I’ve made X marks where there’s been a sighting reported in the newspapers. They’re all concentrated over here.” He circled the area with the most Xs.
“That’s my neighborhood,” Chase said, a bit worried. “I guess that makes sense why it showed up at my house, then. Do you think it’ll show up again?”
Jackie hesitated. “Probably not,” he said slowly. “I, uh...haven’t seen any repeated sightings in the news. So I don’t think it’ll be in the same place twice.”
“Like lightning,” Marvin said.
Chase glanced at Schneep, expecting him to say something about how lightning does actually strike the same place twice. But Schneep was quiet.
So how do we track it down? JJ asked. Should we stake out the neighborhood?
“Well, I noticed something,” Jackie said. “These are the older sightings, and these are the newer ones. Do you see how they’re sort of drifting that way? To the east?”
Towards the inside of the city, JJ agreed. So we can figure out where it might be next because it’s going east?
“But what do we do when we see it?” Chase asked.
“Hmm.” Marvin hummed. “Maybe there’s some way to turn it back into a normal dog.”
“How do you know it used to be a normal dog?” Chase folded his arms. “Maybe it’s always been a big monster dog.”
“Well, I don’t know. But listen. I was thinking about how my crystal collection helped protect us from the mushrooms. I was wondering if we could somehow use that. Like, maybe if we threw a big crystal at the dog, and it stayed near it for long enough, the crystal would...push the evil monster-y bits out of it.”
“That’s a good idea,” Jackie said. “But we should come up with something else, too, just in case.”
A moment of silence passed. Chase expected Schneep to say something, to come up with some sort of idea. But he just sat there.
The dog was hungry when it broke into Chase’s house, JJ finally said. Maybe it’s out walking around looking for food. Maybe we can lure it out of the city with some sort of bait.
“Like dog food?” Chase asked.
“Maybe if we get meat or something,” Jackie speculated. “Like a steak. Dogs like human food more than dog food, I hear. I think I could get something like that.”
“Okay.” Marvin nodded. “Okay, so I have an idea. We get some meat of some kind, and drive around looking for the monster dog. When we find it, we put the meat on the ground. The dog goes to eat it, and that’s when we try the crystal thing. If that doesn’t work, then we get into Jackie’s car and hang more meat out the window so the dog can see and smell it. Then we drive out of town, and it follows us, leaving forever.”
“Thanks for volunteering my car,” Jackie muttered.
“Well it’s probably really fast, huh? Because it’s so big,” Marvin said. “We can’t outrun normal-sized dogs on our bikes, so we need a car.”
“No, I get it, I just...I’m going to need to come up with some explanation for my dad.” Jackie sighed. “You know this might take a while, right? We could be driving around every night until school starts.”
“Not night,” Chase said. “Mom’s gonna crack down on bedtime, soon.” Which was totally unfair. School didn’t start for weeks, why did he have to start going to bed earlier now? Especially when it was still really light outside at the time when Mom said he should go to sleep.
“Yeah, our mam and dad are gonna do that, too,” Marvin said. JJ nodded in agreement, looking unhappy.
“Well, the animal sightings usually happen later,” Jackie said. “But maybe we could do it in the evenings. After dinner or something. Heh. It’s a good thing it doesn’t get dark early like in winter.”
“What are we supposed to tell our... guardians?” Schneep asked awkwardly.
Jackie sighed. “I don’t know. I guess you’ll all have to come up with that for your own parents. If it helps, you can say I’ll be there to watch you guys.”
The table went silent for a little bit. Chase thought about what he could tell his mom. Maybe he could say that he was trying to get as much “outdoor time” as possible before school started, trapping him indoors. She would like that. It made her happy to see him active.
“Oh hey Chase, look,” Marvin said, pointing. “It’s that girl you hate.”
Chase stiffened. “Don’t point,” he hissed, ducking behind the napkin holder.
Indeed, Heather Westing was sitting at a table in Zelly’s. It was halfway across the restaurant, but still within easy eyeshot. She was there with a woman who was probably her mom, and one of her sidekicks: Curly Hair. Weirdly, her other sidekick, Pink Glasses, was nowhere to be seen. Chase watched her for a few seconds, then decided she hadn’t noticed them and relaxed a little. “Just ignore her,” he said slowly.
Marvin shrugged. “Sure.”
Also I see our ice cream, JJ added, pointing at a waiter carrying a tray with five cups of ice cream.
“Don’t point at him, either,” Chase said. “Don’t point at anyone. It just draws attention to you, and we’re trying to be discerned.”
Jackie chuckled. “Do you mean discreet?”
Chase blinked. “Uh. Yeah. That.”
“Discreet,” Schneep repeated idly, trying out the word. Chase looked at him, waiting for him to ask what it meant. But...nothing.
The waiter arrived, dropping off their ice cream and chatting with Jackie a little bit. The group dug into their ice cream, but as they did, Chase watched Schneep. Paying close attention to him.
++++++++++++++++++++
Schneep had been acting weird ever since they’d gotten back from the camping trip, a bit over a week ago. Quiet, mostly. Over the summer, Schneep had relaxed a little around Chase. The two of them talked a lot, went on walks, and Schneep found he liked some of Chase’s favorite TV shows. But now it was back to how he acted at the start. He barely spoke, and spent almost all of his time in his room. Even though the door still stayed open, he wouldn’t respond much when Chase stopped outside and looked in. One word replies at most.
Chase was worried. Was Schneep mad at him? Did he think he’d ruined the camping trip by bringing the mushrooms? The rest of the trip had been fun, but Chase knew that fighting magical fungus had been... not ideal.
He didn’t know how to talk to Schneep about it. The most he figured out was asking Schneep how he was feeling, if he was alright, and Schneep’s responses were short every time. Chase knew he needed help to figure out what to do after that. So he went to the person he could depend on for help with this feelings stuff.
“Mom?” Chase slowly opened the door to his mom’s bedroom. “Are you, uh...doing work stuff?”
Mom’s bedroom was a bit more crowded now that all the office stuff had been moved there to make way for Schneep’s room, but it was still bigger than Chase’s. And more boring, too. The walls were painted a pale gray, completely undecorated except for a single painting Mom had done at some work “retreat” a couple years ago. Bookshelves lined one wall, full of big chapter books with tiny print, and a long, low dresser sat against the opposite wall. The office stuff was shoved into the back corner, while the big bed was by the wall with the window. There used to be a TV in here, but Chase’s dad had taken that when he moved out.
“No, I’m not busy right now,” Mom said. She was lying in bed with a book, but sat up when Chase opened the door. “What is it?”
“I, uh... can I ask you something?” Chase stepped fully into the room.
“Of course, sweets.” Mom slid a bookmark into her book and put it down on the mattress. “Anything.”
“How, uh...how do you know if someone is... upset? With you? Without him, uh...telling you?”
“Well, it depends on the person, but there are some signs,” Mom said. “Usually they don’t want to see you, or try to avoid you. Maybe they make passive-aggressive comments—you know, the ones that sound mean but aren’t shouting or anything, just a weird, rude tone. Sometimes they seem cold, or snippy. Do you think someone’s upset with you, Chase?”
“Well, uh...” Chase closed the door to Mom’s room and leaned against it. “I think Sch—Henrik’s been a little...I don’t know. He’s not talking to me. And I think I might’ve done something wrong.”
“Oh, Chase.” Mom sighed. “It’s possible that he’s upset with you, but it’s more possible that he’s not. Henrik... has his own problems. I think those might be bothering him.”
“Oh.” Chase paused. “Is he sad that he’s almost going home?”
Mom stared at him. “What?”
“What?” Chase was confused by his mom’s confusion.
“What do you mean, ‘he’s almost going home’?” Mom asked.
“At the end of the summer,” Chase said. “He has to go back to Germany. You always say that you can’t be on vacation forever.”
“Chase, Henrik isn’t on vacation,” Mom said. “He’s staying with us for more than the summer.”
“Oh.” Chase paused. “So...did his parents, like, sign him up for an exchange program at school? That’s a thing, right? Where a kid spends a year at a school in another country?”
“Chase.” Mom was stunned, and possibly a little disappointed. “Henrik isn’t just staying with us for a little bit. He lives with us now.”
“...huh?” That only made Chase more confused. “But I thought...”
“If he was only staying for a little bit, I would’ve made him sleep in your room, instead of giving him a room of his own,” Mom said. “Why do you think I bought him a whole bunch of clothes, including a uniform for school?”
“You didn’t say he was living with us forever,” Chase emphasized.
“I thought I did.” Mom sighed. “Maybe you weren’t listening. It was in May. You were... adjusting.”
Chase stood there for a moment. He didn’t mind that Schneep was going to be living with them. Well, maybe he minded a little bit. But that was mostly because he was upset with himself for not realizing that, and preparing his brain for that fact. Still, it didn’t make sense to him. “What about Uncle Albrecht and Aunt Maggie? Don’t they want him to go back?” He gasped. “Did something happen to them?!”
“No, nothing happened to them. They—” Mom shook her head and sighed. She stared at Chase, eyes scanning him. Chase had seen that look a couple times. She was trying to decide if he was old enough to hear something grown-up. Last time she’d given him that look was when he asked where babies came from. Now? There was something different about it. Still serious, but a different type of serious. “Chase, come sit down,” she finally said.
“...Okay.” Chase walked over and hopped onto the edge of Mom’s bed. It was taller than his, and his feet dangled a couple inches off the ground. Of course, Mom, sitting next to him, didn’t have that problem.
Mom was quiet for a moment. “Chase.” When she spoke, her voice was just as serious as her look had been. “Henrik’s parents aren’t allowed to take care of him anymore.”
“What?” Chase blinked. “I don’t get it. How can you not be allowed to take care of your kid?”
“Well.” Mom paused. “A parent’s job is to...parent their kid. Some people are really good at that, and some people aren’t. When a mom, or a dad, or both, are so bad at parenting that it ends up... ends up hurting their kid, either by accident or...not, then...then there are people who step in and say they can’t do it anymore.”
“What people?”
“It’s part of the government. A lot of countries have an organization that takes care of kids, and makes sure that parents aren’t...you know. Doing bad things. America has one, and the UK has one, and Germany has one.” Mom took a deep breath. “See, what happened was that the organization in Germany found out that Henrik’s parents were... they were being really mean to him. And he was suffering because of it. So they wanted Henrik to go live with relatives, but he doesn’t have any in Germany, so they contacted the organization here, and those guys contacted me. They told me what happened, and asked if I wanted Henrik to stay with us. And I said yes.”
Chase didn’t say anything. He looked down at his legs, hanging off the side of the bed, his heels gently hitting the bedframe. “So... is... Did Henrik want to stay here, too?”
“I think he was having a little trouble,” Mom said quietly. “It’s a whole different country, after all. But he didn’t want to live with Uncle Albrecht and Aunt Maggie anymore. He’s, um... he’s very sad. And scared. And a lot of other things. So, that might be why he’s not talking to you right now.”
“I...” Chase swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “While we were on the camping trip, I said that he was going to leave at the end of summer. He asked me something like, ‘is that true,’ and I said it was, and he went kind of quiet. And he’s been kind of quiet since then.”
“Oh, sweets,” Mom whispered.
“I-I didn’t know that he was gonna be staying with us.” Chase tightened his hands into fists, bundling the cloth of his shorts together. “If I did, I wouldn’t have said that. Oh my god. He—he probably thinks we’re gonna send him back, a-and you said he didn’t want to be there anymore—”
“Chase, honey, calm down.” Mom wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close to her. “It was a mistake. You didn’t know. And if you tell Henrik that you’re sorry, and that it was a misunderstanding, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“H-how do I do that?” Chase asked quietly.
“It’s easy, don’t worry. You have to walk up to him and say you want to talk. You mention that thing that you said during the camping trip, and explain that you didn’t know he was going to stay with us. You tell him that you know now, and that you’re sorry that you upset him.”
“I say sorry even if it wasn’t on purpose?”
“Yes, you say sorry even if it wasn’t on purpose. Because it still made him sad, and if you don’t say sorry, it sounds like you don’t care about that.”
“But I do,” Chase said softly. “I didn’t want to upset him.”
“You tell him that, then.” Mom gave him a gentle smile. “Henrik is a smart boy. And he knows you well. He’ll understand. And if he doesn’t, come tell me, and I’ll help.”
Chase let out a long breath. “Okay.” He nodded. His eyes felt a little wet. “I-I’ll go do that right now.” He stood up from the bed, landing on the floor, but didn’t walk away.
“Go on,” Mom said encouragingly. “You can do it.”
“I can do it,” Chase repeated. He inhaled slowly. “Okay. I’m...gonna go do that.” Now he started walking to the door.”
“Good luck,” Mom said. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
++++++++++++++++++++
Aunt Jess had told Schneep that there were snacks in one of the kitchen cabinets—one of the ones on the bottom—and that he was welcome to take one whenever he wanted. She said that he didn’t even need to ask, just tell her when they were getting low. But he still asked. Just in case the rules changed.
Today, though, he didn’t really want to talk to her. He hadn’t really wanted to talk to her or Chase at all recently. There wasn’t a point to it anymore. Not when he wasn’t going to see them again. So, when Schneep saw Chase go into his mom’s room, he crept down the stairs and went into the kitchen. He found the cabinet Aunt Jess had pointed out and opened it up, looking for something to eat. Ideally, something that wouldn’t leave crumbs. He was going to eat it in his room, and he didn’t want to clean that up.
He picked out a small packet of colorful candies labeled as Jelly Babies, then carefully closed the cabinet so it wouldn’t slam. And when he let out a little breath of relief, that’s when he heard the laughter behind him.
Schneep stiffened and spun around, hiding the candy behind his back. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, right under the ceiling light, was a shadowy figure. Despite the bright light shining down directly on it, the figure looked dark. Schneep felt his heart speed up. It was that same shadow that he’d seen in his room a few weeks ago. The same one Chase had seen in the library. Why was it here again?
“Hi, Henrik,” whispered a voice. A boy’s, maybe a teenager’s. “They’re talking about you.”
Schneep opened his mouth. But nothing came out. Not words, not a scream, nothing.
“Up there.” The shadow raised his hand, pointing at the ceiling. “They’re talking about you. They’re talking about how much of a scaredy-cat you are.”
Still nothing. Schneep’s muscles were locked in place. He glanced around without turning his head. The shadow blocked the entrance to the hallway, but the way to the dining room was open. If only he could make himself move.
“Are you scared?” The shadow asked. “Right now?” He paused, as if waiting for an answer. When Schneep stayed silent, he took a step forward. “What about now?” Still, Schneep couldn’t answer. So the shadow took another step. “Or now?”
He should run. Turn and sprint away before the shadow closed in on him. But he just couldn’t move.
“Your friends call you something else,” the shadow said. “Schneep. That’s a nickname, right? Can I call you that? You can call me something, too.” Something flickered in the shadow’s face. Teeth. White teeth, stretched in a smile right where the mouth would be, the only visible feature, stark against the darkness of the shadow. “Schneep, do you like games? I love games. Do you want to play together? All your friends can, too. So, do you?”
Schneep finally managed to do something. He took a step backwards.
“Are you scared now?” the shadow whispered. “Do you know what it’s like to be afraid?”
The terrible silence was broken by the sound of steps coming down the staircase. Light and fast—Chase, not Aunt Jess. The shadow turned and looked towards the noise. He tilted his head. While he was distracted, Schneep started to step to the side, trying to edge around the shadow.
“Schneep? Are you down here?” Chase called.
The shadow laughed. “Are you down here?” he repeated in a singsong voice.
Chase’s footsteps stopped. Then burst into a run. Chase himself appeared in the kitchen entrance. His eyes landed on the shadow, flicked towards Schneep, then went back to the shadow. “Get the heck out of here!” he shouted.
Again, the shadow giggled. And just like that, it vanished.
“Oh my god! Schneep, are you okay?!” Chase hurried over and started patting Schneep’s arms and torso as if checking for injuries.
“Mir geht—I-I am alright,” Schneep said shakily. “You do not need to touch me, I am not hurt.”
“Sorry.” Chase abruptly stopped, taking a step backwards. “Jeez, what does that shadow guy want?”
“He...said something about playing games,” Schneep said quietly. “And asked me if I was afraid.”
Chase paused. “Did you...say anything back?”
Schneep shook his head. He looked down at his hands. The plastic bag of candy had been scrunched under his tight grip.
“Okay. Okay. I mean, that was probably a good idea.” Chase put his hands in his pockets. He kicked the floor idly, socked feet slipping on the tiles. “Um... do you wanna... watch TV?”
“No thank you,” Schneep said. “I-I will just go back to my room.”
“Okay, but, um...” Chase seemed to be having trouble coming up with words. “I, uh... I-I want to talk to you about something. So, uh...do you wanna go sit on the couch? And talk?”
This was different. Schneep had never seen Chase so awkward, and he’d never heard that tone in his voice. After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.”
“Great! I mean, um, good.” Chase started walking backwards. “Let’s, uh...go, then.” He made sure that Schneep was following him before he turned around and walked forwards again.
They made their way to the living room and sat on the sofa the same way they always had: with Chase on the right and Schneep on the left. Only this time Chase wasn’t slumping against the back as he usually did. He was upright, at attention. That, more than anything, told Schneeep this was important. The silence in the room felt heavy. Waiting. Schneep put the packet of candy down on the coffee table and placed his hands in his lap, where they fiddled with the edge of his sweater. “What is it?” he asked quietly.
“I...um...” Chase was still struggling with words. “I didn’t know—I mean, I-I thought you were only visiting for the summer. But Mom told me just now that that was wrong. She also told me earlier, before you got here, but I guess I forgot. I, uh... I know now. That you’re staying with us for... like, forever. So... I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, somehow, by saying that you were gonna go back home at the end of summer. I-I didn’t know. But I’m still sorry.”
Schneep stared at him. “Wait. So...I-I am staying? That didn’t change?”
“No. I mean yes! I mean—” Chase made a frustrated noise. “Yes, you’re staying. No, that didn’t change.”
“For how long?”
“For forever. Or, I guess, until you’re old enough to live on your own and decide to move out. But that’s the same with me, too. And anyone. When you grow up you move out. If you want to. Some people don’t. But, uh, yeah. Mom’s gonna... take care of you. A-and you’re gonna still live in your bedroom upstairs. And stuff.” Chase looked distinctly nervous now, and was talking to fill up space.
“...oh.” Schneep looked away from Chase, processing all this. 
“I-if I made you think you weren’t staying, that’s my fault, cause I didn’t know,” Chase said, somewhat hurriedly. He waited for Schneep to say something else. But when that didn’t happen, he coughed and continued. “Are you... happy about that? About living here?”
“I...yes, I am,” Schneep said.
“You don’t... sound like it,” Chase said slowly.
“Well, there are other feelings, too.” Scheep paused, trying to figure out how to explain this. He took a deep breath. “Chase, do you remember the mushrooms on the camping trip? When they put everyone to sleep and gave them dreams? I was dreaming that... that I was living here. That I had always lived here. That Aunt Jess was my mom, and you were...” He trailed off. “I liked that dream. But... I felt... bad about it, too. I thought... I thought ‘I should be home. I should not like this dream, it is like... like I am traitoring Mama and Papa.’”
“Betraying?” Chase asked.
“Yes. That.”
Chase blinked. His nervousness had veered into anxiety. “Um... Mom told me... just now... that your parents weren’t... good at being parents.”
“I do not think they were,” Schneep muttered.
“She said they were mean.”
Schneep didn’t respond to that. He just squeezed the edge of his sweater tighter, making a small ball of the fabric.
“But I guess... you still gotta like your parents,” Chase said slowly. “You still spend a lot of time with them, and live with them, and eat with them. Sometimes I think Mom’s being really unfair, and I say I hate her, but I know I don’t. I guess that’s what it’s like for you, only... there are more unfair moments.”
Schneep looked back over at Chase. “Aunt Jess is really nice. You think you hate her sometimes?”
Chase shrugged. “I think all kids hate their parents sometimes. Just... sometimes it’s right.”
“Hmm.” They both went quiet for a moment, looking at each other. Then Schneep took a deep breath, “I-I did not want to go back home. I do not. I-I am very glad I can stay here. Because Aunt Jess is really nice, and so are you. I am... Thank you. For explaining that it was a mistake.”
“No problem.” Chase gave a small smile, which quickly disappeared. “Uh... I’m not good with all this stuff. Like, talking about feelings and stuff. But if you want to talk about feelings, I’ll, uh... try to be good. I’ll shut up and let you talk.”
“Thank you,” Schneep said softly. “But I think I am not ready for that. Well...I talk with Rya about it, but she makes it really easy.”
Chase blinked. “Who?”
“She is...” Schneep paused, blanking on the long English word. “She is this lady that Aunt Jess takes me to see on Wednesdays. She is good at this.”
“Oh, wait. I think I know her.” Chase nodded. “She’s like...a psychologist or something.”
“Ja, that’s the word.” Schneep nodded back. “How do you know?”
“Oh. Um.” Chase shifted position awkwardly. “After Dad left, Mom wanted me to talk with her about... stuff. But I didn’t really want to. So I stopped going.”
Schneep tilted his head. “I did not know that. Rya did not mention you.”
“I don’t think psychologists are supposed to talk about the other people they talk to. That’s, like, a rule.”
The two of them sat in silence for a while. They looked away from each other, staring at the blank television. After a few moments, Schneep picked up the packet of candy again. “Maybe... we can watch TV. Just a little bit.”
“Okay.” Chase leaned over and grabbed the remote from where it sat on top of the sofa’s armrest. “I don’t know what’s on now. But that’s fine. Right?”
“Right.”
Chase turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until he got to his usual one. Then he leaned back against the sofa. Not quite slumping like he usually does, but still more relaxed than before. A few minutes later, he tensed a little bit when he felt Schneep lean against him, head resting against his shoulder. When Schneep didn’t move away, he relaxed again.
A couple hours later, Mom came downstairs to start making dinner and saw the two of them napping on the sofa, leaning against each other as they slept.
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spooky-draws-stuff ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Chapter 3 full ego story
1,000 words
This series explains the entire version of my ego cannon.
@n-anon @kalebsocs
"Wake up Chase" Anti hissed, gently placing his hand on top of Chase's head. Chase's eyes opened slowly as he turned his head around in confusion. Anti moved his hand to Chase's right shoulder, digging his claws into his skin gripping Chase tightly. Chase let out a soft whimper of despair. "What do you want from me?" He shuddered. Anti grinned as the dull edge of the blade slid underneath Chase's throat. "I need your help for something very important. Of course I do have a form of my own, but this is much more fun. Let me in, and maybe I'll help you with something." 
Chase's eyes widened. "No, please not again. It's so awful having you inside my head, using me to get hurt instead of you." Chase pleaded. Anti glared at him with annoyance. "Don't be such a baby, this won't take that long. You're friends with Jackie right? If I can convince him to follow me, he'll be quite valuable. You see Chase, once I capture Marvin there will be no other egos who will try to stop me.”  Anti giggled and placed the knife back in his pocket. "Haven't you forgotten, you no longer can afford your home. I can give you a place to stay." Anti whispered, his voice echoing in Chase's ears.
"Yeah well I can just live with Jackie, we're best friends! I don't need you!" Chase's voice trembled. "Just let me go! I'm tired of you giving me ham sandwiches and pasta noodles! When will I get some real food around here?!" The anger continued to build inside of Chase.
Anti unhinged his jaw, revealing his fangs. His eyes glowed and he leaned close, pretending he was going to bite him. Chase flinched. "You're so bad at pretending to be brave. Don't you know, you only make me stronger? Now, enough wasting my time. Shut up, now or I'm going to fucking stab you." Anti threatened, and walked behind Chase placing his hands over his shoulders. Anti closed his eyes and started to glitch  vivid colors before glowing a neon green. Chase's head leaned back, his jaw opening and Anti became a large shadow wrapping his long claws around Chase's mouth and neck before disappearing.
Chase opened his eyes, and they emitted a faint green light. "Now, where do we go next?" 
Henrik slumped over his desk, a mug of coffee tightly gripped in his hand. "Oh Robbie the drama, Anti's back again!" Henrik let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "He took over Jackie and got into a fight with Marvin and now they won't talk to each other. I tried to help Jackie, maybe he just needed a break!" Henrik drank from the coffee mug. “A BREAK?!” Robbie screamed. “LOOK AT YOURSELF DOCTOR! You’re a fucking mess! When’s the last time you slept? It’s like you’ve become obsessed with being awake!” Robbie reached over to Henrik and gave him a tight hug. “I’ll fight him!” Robbie shouted boldly, then his voice became quieter with disappointment as he let go. “One day…” 
“I can’t sleep, Robbie, I keep having this dream. There’s this long hallway, and I walk closer to see what’s going on. It's chase and he’s crying. He won’t tell me what's wrong. It’s raining outside, and there’s this flash of lightning. And I see this shadow behind him, mocking me. And when I hug him, he turns around and…..” Henrik tried to hold back his tears. Robbie gently shook Henrik. “You have to tell me, please!” Robbie inquired. “His eyes are green, like Anti. he reaches for me, and then I feel his hands around my neck. And then I wake up.” 
“Wow, that's messed up. Yeah I don’t think I can help you with that.” Robbie took off his jacket and wrapped it around Henrik. “It’s cold in here, and you need to go to bed. Jameson and I will protect you.” Jameson waved from across the room and flexed his strong muscles from his right arm and winked. Henrik rolled his tired eyes. “Fine.”
Jackie stared out his window blankly, an empty pizza box in front of him. Empty cans of alcohol littered the kitchen floor. “I just don’t get it. Why does Marvin hate me now? I made a mistake. I should’ve paid more attention! Of course Anti used me, why wouldn’t he? But..if only Marvin could remember what happened when Anti took control…maybe he could forgive me?” Jackie’s thoughts raced through his head. “It’s been almost a month since that happened. I keep trying to call chase…and he won’t answer.” He bit into a candy bar and tossed the wrapper onto the floor.
“WHY DOES EVERYONE I CARE ABOUT LEAVE ME?!” He slammed his fists into the kitchen table in frustration. There was a loud knock on the door of Jackie’s house. Then the doorbell rang. “Jackie! Please, let me in! I need to talk to you! It’s important!” Jackie was hesitant at first, but he was so desperately lonely and worried that he decided to answer the door. “Oh, chase, it’s you! What happened, where have you been? I missed you!” 
Chase walked in and Jackie closed the door. Chase sat down on the couch, then commented ominously. “Do you know how stupid you are?” he titled his head and grinned. “What?” Jackie narrowed his eyes in confusion, thrown off by this unusual behavior. “Wait…” Jackie’s hands clenched into fists. Chase lunged at Jackie and grabbed him. They both fell to the floor with a hard slam and Jackie rolled on the ground, doing everything he could to push Chase off of him. Chase kicked Jackie hard, and Jackie slammed his fist into Chase’s nose. Blood splashed onto Jackie’s face.  “ANTI! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! GET OUT!”
Chase laughed. “You would hurt your best friend?” 
“YEAH I WOULD! THAT'S NOT GOING TO WORK ON ME, I'M TIRED OF YOUR SHIT!” he roared.
Jackie picked up Chase by the throat. Chase tried to pull Jackie’s arm off but failed. Jackie then let go and shoved him near a shelf, the shelf crashed onto the floor. 
“Chase you worthless puppet, can’t even fight in this stupid useless body!” Chase snarled before lifting the shelf off of himself, but not without a slight struggle. “Aww, is Anti too angry to keep fighting?” Jackie taunted in a soft friendly voice. Chase’s body convulsed and in a flash of light Anti glitched behind Jackie, wrapping his arm around his throat. Jackie’s eyes widened in horror as he struggled to escape Anti’s hold, but Anti was too strong. 
Anti let go after a minute and pushed Jackie onto the couch. Bruises started to form on his arms. “Not so strong, are you hero? You can’t escape me.” Anti pulled his chef’s knife from his pocket and pressed it against Jackie’s face. Sweat dripped from Jackie’s forehead. “What’s wrong, can’t talk anymore?!” Anti kicked Jackie in the ribs. “Yes…you’ll make a very useful puppet. And for you…” Anti pointed his knife at Chase. “You’re going to help me…with the next phase..”
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rax-writes ¡ 4 years ago
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Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers
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When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.
It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.
The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.
That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.
You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.
“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.
"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.
"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."
Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."
The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.
"So all this time you've been rich?"
"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."
"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"
"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.
As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”
Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."
"It's good to have you back, sir!"
As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."
"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.
"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"
After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.
“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.
“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”
“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.
“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.
“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.
You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.
Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.
“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”
Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.
“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.
“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”
“And why is that?”
“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.
“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.
If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.
“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.
In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.
Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.
“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.
As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.
“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”
“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”
“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”
“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.
“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.
You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”
“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”
You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”
Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.
“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”
The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.
Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.
When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.
“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”
“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”
“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”
“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.
The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.
A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.
“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”
“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”
After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.
“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”
The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”
“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.
“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.
“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.
As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.
“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”
“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”
The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.
Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.
“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”
You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.
The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.
Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.
As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.
An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’
It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.
Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.
The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.
"Your thoughts are filthy."
He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.
"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"
"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.
"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."
You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.
"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."
In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.
"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."
The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.
"Such as?"
"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.
You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.
"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."
"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"
"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."
"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.
"Then I'm yours."
Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.
"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."
You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.
Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and dĂŠcolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.
"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."
Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.
"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.
He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.
No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.
He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.
You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.
"You are certain that you want this?"
"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.
"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."
"Yes, please, Baron."
"Good girl."
Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.
"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.
"Yes, Baron."
He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.
A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.
"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"
"As you wish, Schätzchen."
Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.
"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.
"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"
"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."
That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.
Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.
In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."
"You adore it."
"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.
"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."
"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."
Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."
You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.
The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.
But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.
“We'll see.”
—————
Part Two
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layanasstories ¡ 2 years ago
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⚠️ Spoiler episode 10 ⚠️
Empty by Betrayal
Part 6
"Demands? Who is it?" still dizzy and rubbing my head with one hand I walk into the hall.  Am I surprised, no. Did I expected this, yup. Am I feeling happy, no idea. "It's okay, Phil. Thank you." I step past him and stop in the doorway. "Of all the places you could have gone to, you go to him?" disappointed, Jake stands in front of me. "Yeah, maybe not the best choice, in this situation. Like your own choice, isn't it?" I don't know why I'm still so rancorous. "So this is revenge? Pay back?" his disappointment only grows on his face, he is not angry, he is rather sad "Did you sleep with him?". "What?!" I'm startled "No! I understand it could look like that, but of course not! I would never do such a thing, Jake.". He gives a sigh of relief and a small smile "I'm glad about that.". There was a long silence. I hesitated for a moment as to what to do, but the decision was quickly made when I looked at him again. "I'll grab my bag and then I'll come with you okay."
I had quickly said goodbye to Phil and thanked him for accommodating me. Then I walk out with Jake to Marvin's car, he gets behind the wheel, while I sit in the passenger seat. I shield my eyes from the bright sky, my headache hasn't subsided yet. "Are you okay?" he asks as he looks my way. "No, not really. My head is exploding. Last night's brandy is giving me a rough time. I'm hungry and especially in need of a strong cup of coffee." I answer him and my stomach does the same with a loud rumble. "Mhm, let's settle that first, okay?" he returns his gaze to the road. After what seems like a fifteen minute drive, he takes the next exit and stops in front of a restaurant, more like a kind of bistro. "Coffee and breakfast. And it's always quiet here." Even if he gives me a small smile, he must feel just as uncomfortable as I do.
We sit at one of the tables waiting for the food to be brought. Uncomfortably we look outside, instead of at each other. Which makes it silent for too long. "Jake?" I start, even though I don't really intended to start the conversation "Have you ever stopped for a moment, and thought 'what are we doing'?". He looks at me with a confused look "What do you mean? You were hungry right?". I sigh and hang my head, rubbing my temples "That's not what I mean. I wonder if you understand why I'm so angry, why I left.". "I don't know, maybe. I get that you don't like being interrogated." we are interrupted by the waitress who puts our food down. And the cup of coffee I long for. Before I continue I take a sip, it almost feels like a relief. "I hoped you'd have figured it out by now. But you did not so. Let me explain." I am calmer than I expected, my anger has subsided. I take a bite of my food, I can immediately notice that my head likes that very much. "I'm so disappointed. Hurt actually." I notice my eyes fill with tears. I think of what we've been through, the images I've seen. The fear I have felt. I quickly wipe them away. When I look up I see Jake staring at me, puzzled. "I had hopes that we could be there and support each other. But instead of a shoulder to cry on, I'm put in a room and I am being interrogated. My loyalty is tested." I swallow and feel a tear slide down my cheek. "And it wasn't Alan who did this. I could have understood that. But you did this." now the tears are flowing and I can't stop them. "You said you love me. But what you're doing is the opposite. And it hurts. It hurts so damn much. How can you not see this...." I need to breathe, and calm down. "I have lost the same friend twice. I have seen my other friends being threatened and attacked." I take another deep breath of air. "And you, I've been worried so terribly. I've endured fears that I'd never see you again. I'm strong, I can endure a lot. But I also have a breaking point. And just when I’ve reached that point, you're not there. No, worse, you put me in a room to test me again. That feels like betrayal, Jake. You make me feel like I'm alone, as if all you have said were just empty words.".
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noys-boise ¡ 3 years ago
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Kay @stressedsnake you're going to listen to me rant about my blorbos, quick alert, I will go through the plot of the musical Falsettos so like, spoiler warning but also, it's worth watching even if you know what happens.
So firstly we need to establish something because I will use a lot of titles here and it's kind of confusing, here's a small explanation:
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So basically it was originally a trilogy called Marvin trilogy, it consisted of In trousers, March of the falsettos and Falsettoland, the latter two got turned into Falsettos, one singular musical and then it had a revival. Ik it's confusing but so is maths and this is at least fun.
So my blorbos, to literally no one's surprise, are Marvin and Whizzer (and the lesbians kinda I'll mention them too)
So basically at the beginning of In trousers Marvin is a 14 year old uh... Very wild child. By that I mean, he most definitely has some kind of undiagnosed neurodivergency (my guess is ADHD but this is just a headcanon)
So basically he has a relationship with a kind of very annoying high school girl, while trying to force himself to crush on his teacher Mrs. Goldsberg aaand he ends up marrying another woman named Trina, which wedding he very visibly was not looking forward to. And uh, yea he's also very gay.
Oh and I forgot to mention this is all happening like 60s-70s so he really doesn't get to be openly gay, instead he hooks up with another gay man called Whizzer Brown (hey this is where blorbo #2 comes into the picture!). So Marvin makes an impulsive decision, leaves Trina and his son Jason and runs away with Whizzer, end of In trousers.
So by the beginning of March of the falsettos we find out that Marvin was like "actually screw that I'll keep my family, I'll just somehow try to force Whizzer into it I'm sure everyone will like it!" (No one liked it). So at this point Marvin is kind of an asshole but like tbh so are the other adults and they'll get better so yay.
Basically at this point Marvin and Whizzer are very different and it brings a lot of conflict and they even admit that they enjoy fighting to the point that they're really only together for sexual reasons which is kind of bad. But the main reason why they can't really agree is that while Whizzer is very openly and loudly gay, Marvin would rather stay as close to being the perfect cisgender straight jewish american as possible, so he keeps trying to force Whizzer into a feminine role. And it certainly doesn't help the situation that Whizzer refuses to stay monogamous or even admit that he'd love Marvin, who is at this point very affection starved and keen to emotional outburts (that emotion being mainly anger). So yea. Toxicisity!
The good part is, that at this point Marvin have been going to a psychiatrist for years so he does recognize that he has undiagnosed mental health issues (add BPD and depression to my headcanon mix by the way). Good job Marvin! The bad news is his psychiatrist (called Mendel) fucking sucks, and he mostly uses Marvin's sessions to talk about Trina (who he simps for) which, once again, doesn't help!!
So basically, Mendel does end up marrying Trina, Marvin breaks up with Whizzer over chess, Jason is literally just a 10 year old child and cannot cope with the situation (he's also very autistic), Marvin ends up hitting Trina in frustration and then immediately regretting it, basically end of March of the falsettos.
So how can Marvin POSSIBLY redeem himself??... He gets lesbian friend. I'm not kidding. He also only sees his son on the weekends and remains without a psychiatrist and a lover. But at least he has a lot of times to self reflect and realize that yea he probably was the problem and tries to be better. And he does become better, omygod I love act II/Falsettoland Marvin so so much. So basically he meets Whizzer again at Jason's baseball game because Whizzer loves BASEBALL and JASON and that's what he's doing there and they decide to give their relationship another go and aaaaaaaa they're so cuteeeeee!!!!!
Meanwhile Jason is about to have a bar mitzvah (they're still all jewish) but he doesn't want to have a bar mitzvah and he kinda hates his parents, but tbh he always has (but he does love Whizzer and always have loved Whizzer, possibly more than his own father!)
This is also a good time to talk about the lesbians!! They're called Charlotte and Cordelia and they're amazing! Charlotte is a doctor and Cordelia is a caterer and they've got their issues too (like Charlotte is way too focused on her job and becomes stressed if she faces failure and Cordelia struggles with her own self worth compared to how many people her girlfriend saves) but ultimately they love each other and are amazing and I love themmmmm
Back to Marvin and Whizzer. They racquetball instead of chess now which is kinda like tennis except it's not. Marvin is awful at it but plays because it makes Whizzer happy and awwwww they're so in lovee. Buttt the second time they're shown to be playing racquetball, Whizzer seems visibly weaker and worse at racquetball and falls on the ground and this is where I start to cry for the next 10 minutes. Yeah there's a reason there's a doctor in this musical-
So basically, the thing is, it's the 80s (1981 to be exact) which means that the AIDS crisis is happening and people are dying and Whizzer is one of those people unfortunately. So now you have Whizzer knowing he's on the verge of death and Marvin worried as hell, trying to cope with inevitably losing Whizzer again and also the fact that this disease is sexually transmitted and it is possible that he got it from Whizzer and will die as well. Also this is a good time to bring up Jason still angsting over not wanting a bar mitzvah (he wants it even less now)
There's also a really sweet song between Marvin, Whizzer, Charlotte and Cordelia about how hopeless the situation is but at least they've still got each other and it's called Unlikely lovers and it's so beautiful and it makes me CRY it's my favorite song
Anyways. Jason has the genius idea to have his bar mitzvah in Whizzer's hospital room, the whole family is together and relatively happy for the last time but then Whizzer dies and everything is sad again, that's the end of the musical, it makes me cry.
But anyways.
Back to Whizzvin.
Them <3
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(The last one also has the lesbians :DD)
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bluebellhairpin ¡ 4 years ago
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Little Helper
Sam Wilson X Tech!Reader
A/N: I’m back on the Marvel bandwagon. They can’t keep me away apparently. - Nemo
Warnings: Spoilers (TFATWS). Violence. Reader got blipped. 
Summary: Many know The Falcon. Less know his drone, Redwing. And even fewer know about Redwing’s other pilot, You. 
Listening to: ‘Trouble Man’ by Marvin Gaye - ‘I come up hard, but that's ok cause trouble man don't get in my way.’
Masterlist
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You’d been working with Sam Wilson for a long time. 
A very long time. 
However most people would never have guessed it, considering you worked out of the spare room in your apartment, and Sam himself didn’t speak of you to anyone else. But the role you played was important. 
After all, Sam couldn’t always fight and control Redwing at the same time. 
More often than not, he had bigger fish to fry, and with his hands tied it was more out of convenience that you took over the reins of his little drone friend until he could take them back again. 
Even if no one else would know, it still felt nice to help out the Avengers every so often. 
So when you thought you fell asleep in the chair in your ‘work’ room - sleep was almost a foreign word to you anyway - and then woke up again, you were confused. 
You thought you were in the middle of helping in Wakanda, why would you have fallen asleep? 
But not only did the clock say 11 am - when last you checked it was 2 in the afternoon - but five years had passed too. You scrambled to fish your phone off your desk, and called Sam faster than you could say ‘Stark Industries’. You started speaking as soon as he picked up. 
“Sam! What’s happened -” you stopped yourself, “- What’s that noise?” 
“Could you,” he grunted, kicking something maybe? “Hop on Redwing please?” 
“Copy that.” You said, booting up your computer, frowning at the dust on it. You took a look around the room. There was dust on everything. 
You opened up the little application for Redwing, and pulled the joystick over, making sure it was plugged in, before grabbing your headset and putting it on too. 
“All set and ready to go. Waiting for your call Falcon.” 
“Give ‘em hell Redwing.” 
You pressed the release button on your keyboard, and Redwing’s camera immediately booted up, giving you a perfect view of a seeming ground zero. The land was leveled, and people were fighting everywhere. You recognized some faces - more like flashes of uniforms - Iron Man’s blasters, lightning off in the distance, a giant red and blue frisbee. 
“I’m guessing I go for -” you maneuvered Redwing out of a clawed hand’s grasp “- the alien-looking ones again.” 
“Yes, the alien-looking ones!” 
“Okay okay, sheesh.” you tutted, choosing the drone’s laser over it’s machine guns. “What’d you say about talking during fights anyways? That poor kid we fought in Germany will think you’re a hypocrite.”
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It turned out to be a big fight. Not everyone won, not even those on your side. 
Six months later, Sam and yourself were still as strong of a team as ever, and still no one was any wiser about your involvement in working with him.
Just as well too, you had more than enough struggles of your own. 
Your apartment was one of the lucky ones, since apparently your landlord didn’t want to sort through your boxes of ‘kindling’ - files - and your ‘gizmos’ - machine parts - to get rid of it so he could rent the place to someone else. Not many wanted to rent in your building anyway, and he said he thought he ‘needed a memorial for those who disappeared’. 
So even if no one had emptied the fridge for five years, you still had your place. Unlike many other people. 
Your employers, however, no longer had a job for you. They were focusing on helping relocate the displaced, and apparently you couldn’t help with it. So even if you had your apartment now, you might not for much longer.  
At least you still had Sam. And his weird ‘not-friend’ friend Bucky. 
You’d heard about him, for sure, but only met once. That was the same time Sam told you to steal his phone number so you could keep in touch. Something about not knowing when an ex-assassin cyborg in your contact list would come in handy. 
There was something happening between those two, you couldn’t pick what, but it was akin to tension. And you picked up on that from just one meeting.
Sam had mentioned nothing about you and Redwing, only that you worked together. Apparently it was open for Bucky to interpret however he liked, but you were thankful that he made no connection to the drone. 
After his comment about Redwing’s lateness at the airport - with you at the helm - you weren’t too keen on him knowing anyway.
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They’d broken Redwing. 
You were a little livid about it, all things considered. Your track-record thus-far had been great, but you’d just been bested by who? Some people stealing medicine? That looks a lot worse than if it happened while fighting Thanos. 
Just your luck. 
So when your intercom buzzed and Sam’s fuzzy voice came through into your kitchen you almost wanted to leave him downstairs. Then he started apologizing - on the sidewalk like it was some romcom - and said he had an old man with him that needed to start walking up the stairs as soon as possible so that he’d be able to make it back down by the time you kicked him out. So you buzzed him and his ‘old man’ in and waited for them in the hallway. 
Soon thereafter, voices started drifting up the stairwell. 
“I still don’t know what you’re apologizing for, it’s not like you cheated on them.”
“I told you, they’re not my -” Sam looked up at you as he turned into your hallway. Meeting your furrowed brow and crossed arms with a sheepish smile. “- Hey, (y/n). How’re you going?” 
You just pointed for him to go inside your apartment. When both him and Bucky were inside - what was Bucky doing here anyway? - you told him how you were going. 
“I’m really angry right now Sam. You can’t tell, but I am.” 
“I completely understand that.” he said, “I’m annoyed too, considering.” 
“Considering what Sam? That you got Redwing split in two?” 
“How do you know about Redwing?” Bucky frowned.
“How did I do that when you were the one piloting her huh?” 
“Me? This is not my fault!” you said, “You were supposed to be watching my six, just like I do for you!”
“That girl came at you head-on, I couldn’t have told you more about it if I painted her bright yellow and covered her in Christmas lights.” 
“You turned my coms off.” you hissed, tapping a pointed finger on his chest, “You said it’d be better since then Bucky wouldn’t know it wasn’t you piloting, and that even though I couldn’t hear anything I could still see plenty. Well I can’t exactly see that these people were super soldiers now, could I!”
“Oh. Right.” 
“You were piloting Redwing?” You looked over a Bucky, seeing him shake his head with his hands on his hips. “Makes sense, by all means, but now I have to not like you as much as before.”
“Nonsense, everyone loves me.” you smiled at him, and he quirked his lips up in an almost smile back at you. Then you turned back to Sam. “So is this all you came for?”
“Partially.”
“Partially?”
“Yeah,” he said, acting a little too coy for your liking, “We might need your help in the not-too-distant future.” 
“You always do that thing, you stay something to get me interested, and then you think if I’m interested I want to do it.”
You stared over at him, daring him to speak again. 
“You don’t wanna do things you're interested in?” 
“Depends what you’re trying to get me interested in.”
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stillwinchester ¡ 3 years ago
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Destiel AU - toddler!jack, mechanic!dean
“Good morning, sir!”
Dean looked up from his newspaper straight at the kid with a teddy bear. He had no idea where it came from. He was just sipping his coffee and reading the news, when some stranger toddler appeared on the seat in front of him.
“Umm, mornin'?” he greeted him, still confused.
“I have a birthday today,” said kid and grinned. Dean looked around, but nobody seemed to bother with his situation.
“Congratulations, but you shouldn't be alone here. Where's your mom?”
“In Heaven. She's watching over me, like an angel,” kid explained, and after that kicked him accidentally under the table. Dean dusted his knee off.
“And what about your dad?”
“There!” he pointed to the counter, where was standing a dark hair man in the trench coat. “He's buying birthday's milkshakes. Strawberry!”
“Yeah?” Dean relaxed a little bit, good that kid wasn't alone here. “And how old are you?”
“Four! It's more than three,” he said cheerfully. “Look, I have The Marvelous Marvin. He can talk!”
Kid showed him a teddy bear and pressed his belly. A plushie toy said: 'Hello!', his father turned around immediately and came quickly to Dean's table. He picked the kid up and spoke to him:
“Jack, I told you, don't harass people.” And then to Dean: “My apologies.”
“Nothing happened... He's a great kiddo.”
The man tried to smile, but he was too much embarrassed, so it lookes more like a grimace. Jack, on the other hand, seemed not to care about anything, playing with his teddy bear.
Dean pulled something out from his pocket and asked: “Hey, Jack, do you like stickers?”
“Yeah!”
“So, I have something for you. Happy birthday, buddy!”
It was a commercial sticker with a big text "Singer Auto Repair Shop", but there was also a picture of Chevy Impala which was what Jack noticed first.
“A car!” exclaimed Jack, putting a sticker on his teddy bear at once.
“Jack, what do you say?” reminded him his father.
“Thank you, sir!”
“You're welcome!”
The man put Jack on the seat at the next table and went back to Dean.
“I'm sorry once again, he's a little too much excited,” he excused for his son.
“Sure, nothing happened.” Dean shrugged. “I'm Dean, by the way.”
“Castiel.” They shook their hands, and Dean smiled at him.
“It's nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Cas smiled back. “I'm not gonna take more of your time. Have a nice day.”
Cas sat across of his son. The waitress had brought their milkshakes already. The kid started drinking, but a few seconds later he was talking again.
“Dad, can I try yours?”
Dean heared a chuckle, he looked at Cas and caught how he was rolling his eyes.
“They're the same, Jack.”
“Please... I have a birthday,” begged the kid with a sweet voice.
“All right.” Cas gasped, but changed their milkshakes.
“Yours is better,” admitted Jack, and Cas laughed once again.
Dean finished his coffee and walked away a few minutes later, one more time looking at them. The family picture, a lovely and cute view...
*
Cas knew shit about cars, but he was certainly sure his truck shouldn't make so weird noises.
“Crap,” he murmured. Did he say it loud? Crap! He turned to the back seats where Jack was sitting in the child chair. “You didn't hear anything, Jack.”
“That's not true! You said: crap!” said excited Jack. “Crap, crap! Crap, crap!”
Great! Now his kid expanded his vocabulary.
“I think grocery needs to wait. Somebody needs to check our car.”
“Maybe Marvin? He's a mechanic. He has a badge.” Jack pointed at the sticker on his teddy bear.
“Oh, honeybee, I think we need the other specialist, but thank Marvin for his service.”
Cas pulled out the phone to find some Auto Repair Shop on the internet when he realized that actually Marvin could help. He gave a quick look at the sticker and read an address.
*
“I have no idea how to fix a car. Sometimes I even forget to refuel it,” explained Cas to the old man with a baseball cap. He had found out earlier it’s Bobby Singer, owner of this Auto Shop. For a moment, he felt disappointment because deeply in his heart he had hoped he was going to see Dean from the milk bar again.
“I’ll call my best mechanic. We can handle it,” Bobby assured him, and after that he turned around and yelled: “Dean, we have a client, can you come here?”
Dean got out from under one of the cars. He was wearing work clothes, and his face was dirty from grease, but Cas recognized him at once. Jack, who was standing next to him, was too busy with his teddy bear to notice him.
“Oh, Cas. Hi,” said Dean, frowning with confusion. Probably he didn’t expect to see him again.
“Hello, Dean.”
“And how are you, Jack?” he asked a toddler.
“Good! Marvin took us here!”
“Yeah, so let’s see what’s wrong with a car.”
Dean opened the hood and checked the car. It didn’t take him a lot of time before he found cause of trouble.
“It's the engine...” explained Dean.
“Crap!” said Jack, and Dean looked at him surprised.
“Whoa, isn't it a big word for so little guy?”
“I'm big now! And dad taught me that!”
Cas’ cheeks turned red at once, and he mumbled: “No, I... I didn't.”
“You did, daddy. Don't you remember? Truck was broken.”
Dean chuckled, but he was not going to torture him any longer.
“Okay, I need at least half an hour. You can wait there if you want.” He pointed to a bench near a big tree.
“All right, thank you.”
Dean started working, but his eyes were heading to Cas and Jack all the time. He saw how they were talking and playing with a teddy bear, laughing all the time. They looked so happy, and Dean found himself jealous of what they had.
When he finished, he called them and Bobby. Cas paid for the repair and thanked him for help. They didn't go at once, so Dean used an opportunity to talk with him a little longer.
“He's similar to you, like Mini-Cas,” said Dean, and Cas smiled with proud.
“Actually, he's not my biological son... His mother was my very good friend, but she died in childbirth, so I took care of him,” he explained.
“What about his biological father?”
“It's my brother, but I don't know where he is. He ran away when he found out Kelly was pregnant.”
“This one,” started Bobby and patted Dean on the arm. “I kinda adopted him and his brother. And they're good men. I think I did no bad job raising them.”
“Yeah, you were always a better father to me than John.”
Bobby squeezed Dean’s shoulder, and walked away to talk with Jack. Cas looked at his son with love in his eyes.
“It must be hard, huh? Be a lonely father with a toddler?”
“Sometimes. But I've never regretted this. He's my whole life.”
After a long minute of silence, Dean decided to go one step further. He scratched a back of his neck and cleared the throat.
“Listen, Cas, I'll give you my private number...” he started, but then added quickly: “You know if something would be wrong with a car, just call me.”
Shit! It wasn't supposed to look like this... He chickened out.
“Umm, thank you,” said Cas, putting the card with his number in his coat's pocket. “Dean, one more.”
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I call you on another matter?”
“Which means?”
“If I want to, for example, invite you for a milkshake?”
Dean's face brightened with a smile. So, it wasn't like he was the only one who was interested.
“Yeah... it would be okay, Cas.”
“So, I think I'll call you.”
“I will be waiting.”
Cas gave him a huge smile one more time before he went to Jack.
“Jack, we need to come home. Let's go!” He took him on his arms.
“Okay, daddy!” Jack raised his hand and waved with it. “Bye, bye, Dean!”
“See you later, buddy! Oh, and I have another sticker for you,” said Dean.
“It's like a doctor, but without needles.”
“Yeah, I'm a car doctor.”
“Cool!”
They drove away, this time without a noisy engine, and Cas thought it's a very good day.
*
Cas put Jack to bed, read him the bedtime stories and kissed his forehead. He turned the light off, but stayed there a few minutes more, just to look at his sleeping kid.
Yes, like he said before, being a single father wasn't always easy, but he would never change his life. At least not in this area. Because, of course, he would like to find somebody who could love Jack like their own son, and somebody who could love him...
Sometimes, especially in the nights like this, he felt lonely, it wasn't like he has a lot of time to meet new people, not to mention dates. That's why he went to the kitchen to make a call.
“Yeah?” asked Dean, and Cas couldn't help smile, hearing his voice.
“Hello, Dean. It's Cas. I hope I don't call too late.”
Answer came almost immediately.
“No. It's never too late.”
Part 2
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esculentevil ¡ 3 years ago
Text
Septic AU: (AntiHero) Baphomet’s Knight
((I’ve been itching to do a(n AntiHero) Knight!Jackie AU and, while talking to GhostieToms, I realized Baphomet!Anti would be the best Anti to pair him with [it was just daemonlord!anti, originally, which felt much too vague for this; plus, Bantiphomet needed more than hero!Jackie]. So, please enjoy this AU with a pinch of salt cuz it doesn't line up perfectly with SepticBloodGoat and remember you can almost always read my fics over on AO3 =) Read this one over there!))
Marvin’s a light mage who uses his magic to banish Anti from a subjugated land.
The humans living there decide to name him their new king in thanks.
He rules kindly—if a bit ineffectively (he never actually wanted to be their king; he just wanted to free the poor people from the Black Goat trying to kill them off)—and helps where he can: healing the weak or injured; teaching the apothecary; training the preacher; and entertaining the children so they all have hope.
Still: he has no idea what he’s doing.
(And Anti won’t stay gone for long.)
~
His solution is to build himself/the people an army.
He does this with magic, of course, and starts at the top with the commander: Jackie; an immortal knight endowed with the fringes of his own white powers, lightening and fire, so that they may fuel each other in (and out of) any battle; filled with all the knowledge (i.e.: books) he has on war, leadership, and rule.
He is a fearsome warrior, dedicated protector, and supportive friend.
He is loved by all... but Anti.
(For now.)
~
Jackie trains his whole life to protect the city.
Arguably, this isn’t very long, as he’s born into adulthood, but he doesn’t care.
He and his army fight gloriously and defend his creator’s land without fail; and, each time, he gets closer and closer to finally defeating their former oppressor.
Once and for ALL.
~
Until that moment is finally upon him.
Until he’s standing before the fallen angel of duality with a sword in his hand, heavy with the weight of duty and demand and defense and DEATH.
Until he’s faced with the reality of what he must actually DO.
Until he’s face-to-face with Anti’s hollow, sad, lonely eyes...
(Until he just can’t do it.)
~
“... Why were you killing us?”
Jackie kneels before the defeated creature, ignoring the outraged gasps and enraged cries of both his squires and Marvin, himself, to speak quietly with It. But the winged goat only stares emptily up at him. (It’s so small...)
“Why did you not try treating us kindly?”
“... hWy did ye run me off me land...?” It’s a whisper, raspy and quiet like wind, but there: an answer—a very painful one. Jackie frowns, upset, at it.
“... Run you off?”
“It were MY land FIRST!” It’s a roar, wild and unhinged, accompanied by a rise. The daemonic ruler does not stand tall but hovers over them like a dark god. “MY HOME!” The ground beneath them shakes in despair, as though agreeing, toppling many of Marvin’s squires and weakening the stance of the king, himself.
But Jackie, already kneeling, is fine: “You were... living here???”
“Ceart! Yes! For CENTURIES!!!”
Jackie frowns, watching the furious but distraught daemon plead Its case.
That... doesn’t line up with what Marvin heard from the people he liberated; but... he can see how their meeting might have had a few crossed wires. He sighs.
“Then you never should have been driven out.”
He can feel the incredulous stares from both Marvin and his squires; but, honestly, he doesn’t care: he was created to save people and do what’s RIGHT. And de-homing a person isn’t RIGHT.
And, daemon or no, Anti IS a person.
And It’s adorable when confused.
~
“Please allow me to be the first to welcome you back home, my King.”
“W-wha—?! Jackie!!! What are you doing?!?!?!”
“You never wanted to be king, right, Marvin?”
“... Well, no... But, Jackie... You can’t be...?”
“I’m very serious: the land’s rightfully Anti’s.
“So, whoever wants to stay, stays with It.”
~
“... Ah t'hought ye were t'at witch's knight.”
Anti’s voice, when not angry or attacking, is shockingly soft and gentle—reminding Jackie of a leaf floating on the winds. He smiles, loving the sound of it, and stands proudly beside his daemonic ruler as a pair of peasants leave. They’re unquestionably happy with the horned being’s judgement.
“I live to serve MY king; I get to choose.”
Anti doesn’t say anything; It just smiles.
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naancypants ¡ 4 years ago
Text
maybe this is perfect
Alright here is my finalized repost of the fic I accidentally published yesterday, LOL. If you enjoy, I'd love some support on Ao3 (work link is below)! I wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x15, hehe) as a sort of speculative, "personal ideal" confession scene for the finale episode.
Ao3 | 2,051 words
--------------------------
"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"
At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as the question sinks into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.
"Yeah."
A beat passes where neither makes a move.
Nancy, however, is the first to take a step, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You've been avoiding me... for a while now. Ever since the whole life-and-death thing with Daniel West. And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"
"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."
In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.
"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.
He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the whole Celia situation, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one; yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.
"I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."
Nancy recalls a talk during which she was alone with Ace, where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at her recent dealings with the Hudson matriarch.
A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."
"Maybe it wasn't worth it."
Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face.
"I'm sorry, what?" she demands.
Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shamed expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.
"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."
You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.
"I guess that's my problem."
"Your problem is that I care about you?"
"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."
Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"
"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."
The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.
"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."
It's the most fragile, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?
If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.
"Honestly, Nancy, I don't know right now. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."
Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.
When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.
Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, uncertainty - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.
"I did it because I love you."
If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.
There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is barely above a whisper now, eyes in danger of spilling over, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."
Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.
When Nancy gets nervous she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."
Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in; lowers her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.
"Nancy."
Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.
"There are.. a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.
Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"
His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."
"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"
He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."
"What do you mean? What kind of things?"
"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."
It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"
Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.
"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.
"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."
"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."
He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.
"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.
This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"
"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."
"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.
Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."
She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.
Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.
Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.
Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.
For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.
Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.
With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never felt this good in her dreams.
Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.
Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.
"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.
A smirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."
Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.
Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.
"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at their place," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.
Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."
Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me in plenty of time."
"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."
Nancy shrugs. "Eh, you know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"
"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how badly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."
"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"
"Don't need to."
"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"
"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."
The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; of the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.
Whenever that may be.
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10ths-writing-corner ¡ 4 years ago
Note
Random suggestion! Henrik had been very distant and the egos try to find out why
“Is it me... or has Schneep seemed a bit off?” Marvin ventured before taking a sip of his tea, though his question earned a harsh slam on the table by a red gloved hand.
“We just got him back— of course he seems off. And is best if we don’t talk about it so loosely.” The hero warned. Even if Jackie snapped at him, Marvin just brushed it off. It had actually been almost a year since the doctor came back, and yet none of them knew the horrors he had to endure. Though, the scars hiding under his white lab coat spoke for themselves. Jackie sighs sharply as he took a hold of his mug, coffee swishing around as tired indigo eyes gazed at it. “He... We’ll talk about it when he’s ready to do so.”
“Jackie...” Marvin started, “It has been almost a year— I’m sure as hell not the only one who’s noticed how distant he’s become since—“ Silence fall between the two egos, and Marvin’s eyes fall on his hands, light blue and green sparks flashing for a second on top of his hand before he balls his hand into fists. “We have to do something. He has always been on our case about taking care of ourselves since day one. It’s... It’s the least we can do.”
“You think I haven’t thought of that? You think I haven’t notice how he flinches every time either of us get too close to him? How his eyes carry fear and paranoia everywhere he looks? How he has to stares at me in hesitation and caution like I’m so kind of monster who’s gonna jump at him?” His voice cracks at the last part, tears welling in his eyes but the hero is quick to blink them away. “I hear him scream every night... I hear him mutter to himself how none of this— how any of us is real. I want him to feel safe in his home... I want my best friend back—”
The last set of words carry so much guilt. Guilt Marvin will never come close to understanding, no matter how much he tries to put himself on Jackie’s shoes. Especially since he wasn’t the one who found him like he had endlessly promised. The magician reaches over, his scarred hand now resting reassuringly on Jackie’s arm. “Stop blaming yourself for this. It’s not you who did this, it was Anti. He will pay for this, okay? But for now, Schneep needs us. He needs you.”
The hero scoffs, shrugging Marvin’s hand off. “Might as well been me who did this to him. I promised I would protect him once we all confirmed Anti’s existence. After he almost succeeded on taking Jack the first time—“ Jackie comes to a halt, the action making Marvin frown with confusion and concern.
“Jackie?”
The hero doesn’t respond, but his head turns towards the hallway. The chair he was sitting on scrapes softly against the wooden floor as he stands, but the next set of words catch him off guard. “Henrik?” A hitch is heard from the hallway, a beat or two go by and the doctor reveals himself. The sight hurts so much, but it hurts Jackie the most. Those icy blue eyes had always carried light and curiosity, even when him and Marvin didn’t get along at first, he secretly admire the doctor’s dedication and curiosity. Now, they were dull, deprived of any kind of joy, of life.
Even if almost a year had gone by, his cheekbones still looked very prominent, heavy dark circles adorning his face and adding on to the dead look on the doctor. At least he was slowly regaining mass and muscle back thanks to training with Jackie. The doctor had his eyes glued to the floor, his hand gripping his arm tightly as he seeks comfort. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, but he did his darn best to hold them in.
“What’s wrong? D-Does your arm hurt?” Jackie asked with worry as he walked towards the doctor, though he is quick to flinch away when Jackie came too close too fast.
“I—“ Henrik whispered, his grip tightening around his arm. His long brown locks form a curtain over his face the more he faces down, yet Marvin can pick up a glint of stray tears streaming down his face. “I-I apologize... f-for causing burdens to all of y-you...”
“Wh— Henrik, you’re— Henrik wait!” Jackie yelled after Henrik ran off, soon following after him. Marvin exhales sharply, slight guilt clawing at his chest. Maybe.... Maybe he should’ve been nicer to him in the beginning. That way, Jackie wouldn’t have the be the only one to deal with him.
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crystalninjaphoenix ¡ 3 years ago
Text
Hospitals & Hellos
A JSE Fanfic
Consider this a follow-up to the action of the previous part. A lot happened, including a cliffhanger that really left you dangling >:)c Sorry about that, but also not sorry. Anyway since it’s so closely related, I’m having trouble summarizing it. Basically, Chase and Marvin get some good news, there’s a brief intermission when something else happens, and then we cut back to those in more danger. That may sound confusing but I don’t want to get too spoilery. Read for yourself =)
You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!
Chase woke up to the sound of his ringtone, the sensation of someone shaking his shoulder, and the pain in your back and neck that develops when you fall asleep somewhere you’re not supposed to. He groaned, and opened his eyes. Where...? Ah, right. Jack’s hospital room. He fell asleep? For how long? Visiting hours must be almost over by now.
Marvin shook him again, leaning over from his chair next to him. “You keep getting a call,” he said. “You should probably pick it up now.”
“Right.” Chase stretched, wincing a bit at the ache in his body, then dug his phone out of his pocket just as the ringtone ended and the call dropped. But looking at his lock screen, he had three missed calls from one Detective Nix. “Oh shit!” He was immediately awake. “I gotta call back—”
Before he could do that, his phone rang yet again as it received another call from the detective. This time, Chase picked it up instantly. “Hello?”
“Mr. Brody?” asked the somewhat-familiar voice of Detective Nix.
“That’s me. Sorry about all the missed calls, I-I fell asleep.”
“Ah, I see.” Nix sounded amused. “I suppose I have to plan for calling you several times.”
Chase laughed nervously, glancing over at the others. He’d fallen asleep to Marvin teaching Jack the beginnings of BSL, but now both of them were staring at him, listening in to the conversation. Jack was sitting straight up, without leaning against the bed. Marvin kept bouncing his leg. The two of them were clearly anxious. “So...wh-what’s the situation?”
“Well, there’s good news, bad news, and good news,” Nix said. “Which would you like to hear?”
Chase inhaled sharply. “Bad news first.”
“We couldn’t find your friend Henrik. Or the other one who’d been taken a month ago, Jameson.”
“Oh.” Chase’s heart sank. “What’s the good news, then?”
“First things first: your friends’ tips were extremely helpful. We managed to find the house they were talking about,” Nix said. “We didn’t recover many things from the location, but we found something else. Or rather, someone else. Jackie Donovan.”
If his heart sank before, it now rocketed upward into his throat, rendering him speechless. Finally, he managed to get out a strangled, “What?”
“He was in one of the house’s bedrooms, badly injured and tied to a chair, but alive,” Nix continued. “He’s at the hospital now.”
“Which hospital?” Chase asked.
“Southpoint General, in the—”
“Holy shit, we’re literally there right now!” Chase stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. “Where is he?! Can we see him?!”
“He’s recovering in what is, I believe, the emergency ward,” Nix said calmly. “Don’t worry, he’s stable, but as I said, badly injured. Unconscious, actually. Visiting hours are basically over, but if you’re already here, and you insist, you could probably hurry if the staff lets you—”
“That’s what we’ll do, then. We’ll be there as soon as possible!” Chase hung up without saying goodbye, and turned to face the other two.
“What was that all about?” Marvin asked, confused but hopeful.
“They found Jackie!” Chase shouted, unable to contain his overflowing joy and relief. “They got him back, he’s here, at this hospital right now!”
“What?!” Marvin shot to his feet. “We gotta see him!”
“That’s what I said! If we run, we might be able to squeeze in just before visiting hours end.” Chase started to head towards the door, then stopped, and looked back at Jack. “Oh, uh, sorry, you probably want—”
“Go!” Jack waved at the two of them, pointing at the room’s doorway. “Gogogogogo!”
Chase laughed. “Alright, we’re going! I’ll see you in a couple days, probably!”
“Go!”
“Okay, bye!” Chase hurried out the door.
“Bye, Jack!” Marvin added, following Chase.
Jack waved at the two of them as they left.
From there, the two of them hurried to the nurses’ station so they could ask where Jackie was. Once the nurse confirmed he was in the emergency ward and gave them the room number, they practically sprinted to the right wing, desperate to make it before visiting hours were over. They ended up making it just in time, and both skidded to a halt outside the right door, breathing hard.
The door to the hospital room was ajar. An older man leaned over and peered through the doorway. “Ah, hello Mr. Brody.”
“Hello, Detective,” Chase said. He paused for a moment to breathe, then added, “We’re here.”
“I can see that,” Nix replied, smiling a bit. “Well, you and your friend come in. It’s Mr. Maher, isn’t it?”
Marvin nodded. “Yeah. Weren’t you at the trial? You talked about the case?”
“So I did.” Nix nodded.
“Huh. So you’re handling the whole thing?”
“Indeed. It’s turning out to be a complex beast of clues and crime. Anyway.” Nix stepped back, and Chase and Marvin entered the room.
Most of the emergency ward was large rooms with multiple beds, but there must have been certain circumstances in place to let Jackie have his own room to himself. It was small, but a bit more homey than Jack’s room in the ICU, with cushioned chairs and a couple small tables, even a TV in a cubby in a wall. The hospital bed didn’t have as much medical equipment surrounding it. But Jackie wasn’t awake to appreciate any of this.
Chase stopped short, just staring. It was eleven months since he’d last seen Jackie. He hadn’t always been that pale, had he? His collarbone and cheeks hadn’t always jutted out like that, had they? His hair was a shoulder-length mess, having grown out, and his eyes had deep purple bags under them. He was wearing a hospital gown, but there were scars visible on his arms that certainly hadn’t been there before, as well as some bandages wrapped tightly around his right arm above the elbow. Despite all this, he looked rather peaceful in sleep, breathing steadily.
Marvin made a choked sound, unable to say anything else.
“He’s...fine, right?” Chase asked, glancing at Detective Nix.
“The doctors say so,” Nix assured him. “He was injured when we found him, but they say it’s not life-threatening.”
“H-how? How was he injured?” Chase asked hesitantly.
“Well...you can see his arm. His legs are bad, looked like someone used a knife to slash them up. And there was a stab wound in his stomach. But he hadn’t lost too much blood. They say his main problem is malnutrition. He’ll be okay.”
Chase let out a long breath. “Okay. Okay. That’s good. Good to hear.”
Marvin stayed silent. He walked up to the bed and, after a moment, gently took Jackie’s hand. 
“I’ll let you two have a moment.” Nix slid out of the room, closing the door behind him.
The moment passed in silence.
——————
The car ride back was silent as well. A lot had happened that day, and the two of them sat, quietly processing everything. They lost Schneep, but found Jackie, each within a few hours of each other. Who knew what would happen tomorrow?
Chase pulled onto the street where Marvin’s house sat, and noticed something odd. “Is there someone outside your house?”
“Hmm?” Marvin, previously spacing out, snapped back to reality. “Why would someone be at my house?”
“I dunno, I assumed you would. Not expecting anyone?” Chase shrugged. “Maybe they’re in front of the neighbors.”
“No.” Marvin narrowed his eyes, staring down the road. “There’s someone at my door. A car in front, too. Who is that? I can’t see them.” He shook his head. “Too dark. The city needs to work on installing stronger street lamps in the area.”
Chase chuckled a bit. As he approached Marvin’s house, he pulled to the side of the road, right behind the strange car that was already there, and tried to get a good look at whoever was at the doorway. A woman. Dark-haired, wearing a brown leather jacket and jeans. She was facing the door, her back to the road, but when the car pulled up she heard the sound and turned to look. Odd...Chase recognized her. But he couldn’t place where he’d seen her before. “You know her?”
“Uh...I don’t think so?” Marvin shook his head, looking confused. “But I think I do? She kinda looks familiar.”
“I was thinking the same thing, actually.” Chase parked the car and opened the door. “C’mon, I want to talk to her.”
“Yeah, let’s ask her what she’s doing at my house at like ten o’clock,” Marvin said, opening his as well and heading out.
The two of them walked up the short path to the door. The woman, noticing them, waved. “Hello! I’m very sorry, ah—one of you is Marvin, right? Actually, you both look—maybe you could both help me? I’m looking for Henrik.”
That voice made Marvin stop in his tracks. “Mina?!”
Chase visibly started as the pieces clicked into place and he remembered who this woman was. Mina von Schneeplestein—or rather, Mina Pfeiffer, as last he heard she was going by her maiden name again. What was Schneep’s ex-wife doing here?!
“Ah, you recognize me, so I have the right address.” Mina nodded, satisfied. “You are Marvin? I saw you on television, I recognize your hair. Though it’s longer than I remember. But to be fair, my memories of faces are vague.”
“You saw me on TV?” Marvin repeated, looking even more confused now that he realized who the woman was.
“Um, hi.” Chase waved awkwardly. “I’m Chase, I’m a friend of Schneep’s. What are you...It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, were you out of town or something?”
“Oh, Chase! I remember you. Yes, I went back home and stayed with family for some time,” Mina said.
“Why are you at my house?” Marvin blurted out.
“Well, ah—sorry about that. It was the only address I could think of.” Mina sounded fairly embarrassed. “I thought you would be home. I am looking for Henrik.”
“Why? We haven’t seen you for more than a year!” Marvin pointed out.
“Yes, I know. It is...a complicated situation.” Mina glanced back at the door behind her. “Should we go inside and sit down?”
“No, I’m fine,” Marvin said. “We can talk about this while standing.”
“...oh. Okay.” Looking even more embarrassed, Mina stepped away from the door, walking a bit closer to the two men. “I suppose this wouldn’t take too long.”
“So you’re looking for Schneep?” Chase asked.
Mina nodded. “Yes. I received some phone messages and mail from this hospital they said he was staying at. But I threw them out. Shortsighted, it would seem.”
“I think I know what you’re referring to,” Chase said. He recalled a conversation he had with Dr. Laurens, where she said they were trying to contact Mina but getting no response. “Did you think they were spam or something?”
“Ah...no, not exactly.” Mina grimaced. “It is really a long story, and it is cold and dark out, so I would prefer if we could step inside—”
“No, tell it quick,” Marvin interrupted.
Mina bristled a bit. “Well!”
“Marv, c’mon,” Chase pleaded.
“Look, no one disappears for a year without a reason,” Marvin insisted. “And something about this seems fishy, so I want to hear the story before I let her into my house with my pets.”
Mina sighed. “I do not see why you are so concerned. Henrik and I are married.”
“You’re divorced.”
“No, they’re separated,” Chase added. “It’s a different thing.” But personally, he still considered them exes, even if the separation had been friendly enough. The pair of them had rushed into marriage, likely due to some family pressure, and later agreed that they needed some time apart to sort their own lives out. That was about three or four years ago, and shortly afterwards Schneep had been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. As far as he knew, they hadn’t gotten back together since the separation.
“It’s just weird that you’re showing up looking for him now,” Marvin said, crossing his arms. “Where were you when he first went into Silver Hills?”
“I was out of the country,” Mina repeated.
“On purpose?”
“What?”
“Were you avoiding him?”
Mina looked like she wanted to protest, but then straightened, adjusted her jacket, and said, “If you must know, then yes.”
“Ha!” Marvin barked.
“You must be missing so much of what happened,” Mina said, leveling him with a stare. She was about equal height with the two men, so it wasn’t hard to do. “Henrik and I...were starting to try again. But then his behavior became erratic, and the next thing I knew, he put his friend in a coma and started killing strangers.”
“He wasn’t the one killing them,” Chase corrected gently—mostly to prevent Marvin from saying the same thing, much louder.
“Well I know that now, but at the time, it seemed fairly obvious,” Mina pointed out. “So I left for some time. I returned a couple months ago, but only now heard the news about the truth of the situation. I saw clips from the filmed hearing between you, Marvin, and that doctor. I saw them on television, and realized something was off. So I looked it up, and now I know, and now that I do, I have to talk to Henrik about something.”
“You know...it seems a bit sketchy that you immediately thought he must be the killer,” Marvin said. “Because he was, what, ‘erratic’?”
“Yes,” Mina said firmly.
“You should have realized he would never do anything like that!”
“I wasn’t about to stick around and have blind faith! That is how serial killers draw in women, it has happened in the past!”
“Schneep would never—”
“I did not know that! He was being very strange, and with his condition—”
“Get off my property.”
Mina blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Marvin leaned close to her. “Get off my property.”
“No, you do not understand, I really must know how to talk to Henrik,” Mina said, tone shifting from defensive anger to a strange desperation. “There is an important matter—”
“Find that mail you threw out and get the address from there. Google it, I don’t care. Though really, if you keep talking like that, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near Henrik.” Marvin growled. “If you stay here one second longer, I’m calling the police. Leave.”
Mina looked like she wanted to protest more, but thought better of it. She walked around Marvin and Chase, staring at the two of them as she did, and then hurried down the path to the street. She got inside the strange car Chase had parked behind, started it, and drove off.
“You could’ve handled that better,” Chase said.
“You didn’t say anything,” Marvin replied, facing him.
“No, I know. You’re right, something about that seemed...weird.” Chase couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about the way Mina was acting was...strange. Not in a bad way. But it felt like there was something more she wasn’t saying.
“I don’t like people talking about people’s ‘conditions,’” Marvin muttered.
“Yeah, that was a bit...Just, the way she said it, like it was a given, y’know?” Chase shook his head. “But you really went off there.”
Immediately, all the fire drained out of Marvin’s body. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m just...tired.”
“I don’t blame you. I feel it too.” Chase nodded. “You, uh...want to go see Jackie sometime soon?”
Marvin nodded. Day after tomorrow? he asked, signing.
“That could work. We’d have to be quick, though, Stacy will be dropping off the kids in the evening for the weekend.”
Oh, you sure? I can go tomorrow, or even after the weekend.
“No, it’s fine, I...I really want to see him.” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’ll pick you up. How about around two?”
Marvin nodded again. That would work.
“Great. See you then.” Chase retreated to his car, turning back before getting inside to wave at Marvin one last time. Marvin waved back, then turned around and went through the front door to his house. Once he was gone, Chase got in his car and drove away.
This day just kept getting longer. He really needed to get home and go to bed.
——————
Two days later, Chase picked Marvin up and the two of them drove back to the hospital around two o’clock, when visiting hours started. They remembered the way to Jackie’s room, and found it quickly. Nobody else was there. Chase half-expected Detective Nix to still be here, doing some sort of police stuff, but no, the room was empty. Jackie was lying in bed, eyes open, hands folded on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t moving at all, except for the up-and-down of his chest as he breathed. Chase hovered in the doorway, Marvin nearby, feeling uneasy. This sight was a bit...worrying. Was Jackie okay?
Marvin leaned over and whispered, “Is he awake?”
“I don’t know,” Chase replied in the same hushed tone. “His eyes are open.”
“Maybe it’s like with Jack? How he was before?”
“God, I hope not. I don’t want anyone else to go through that.”
At that moment, Jackie’s head turned, and he looked at the two of them. He must have heard them, despite the whispering. Chase gasped a bit before coughing to clear his throat. “Hey, Jackie,” he said awkwardly. “It’s uh...it’s us.”
Jackie didn’t respond, just kept looking at them. His eyes darted up and down as he took in their appearances. Self-consciously, Chase tried to brush some nonexistent dirt off his jacket. He should have worn a newer one instead of the old one with the first merch design for his channel.
Marvin waved. “Hi. We’re here now.”
“Yeah, hi.” Chase waved again. “Uh...how are you feeling?”
Still no response. Though Jackie looked a bit confused now.
“Uh...can you hear us, bro?” Chase stepped forward until he was standing next to the bed, then put a hand on the non-bandaged part of Jackie’s arm.
“Holy shit!” Jackie jerked his arm away and bolted upright. “You’re really here!”
“Wh—yeah?!” Chase said.
Marvin laughed.
Chase glanced back at him. “Dude, what the fuck?” 
“Sorry, sorry, I-I dunno what that was about, nervous reflex,” Marvin waved away Chase’s look. “It was just a bit funny, cause he jumped up like that.”
“I—I wasn’t expecting that,” Jackie said, sounding a bit dazed.
“You...weren’t expecting us to actually be here?” Chase clarified.
“Yeah, I-I-I thought that—it’s all a bit—never thought I’d—” Jackie paused, gathering his words. “I thought that maybe...I was just daydreaming a bit. To make myself feel better. This whole place, actually.” He gestured around the hospital room. “I guess it was all so surreal, and I...I was kind of out of it, a-anyway, so I thought this was just more of that.”
“Oh. Well, no, we’re here.” Chase squeezed Jackie’s arm. “You’re really in the hospital. Southpoint General, actually, the same place Jack is.”
“Really?” Jackie laughed a bit. “Cool, I could go visit him.”
“Well he’s in a different, um, ward, or whatever,” Chase said. “But yeah, technically you could.”
Jackie smiled, but then the grin slowly faded from his face. His eyes glazed over a bit.
“So...” Marvin jumped in, walking over to stand next to Chase. “What do you remember?”
“Huh?” Jackie blinked, and looked over at him. “Remember about what? You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”
“I mean about the whole rescue operation,” Marvin explained. “How did the police find you?”
“Oh. Uhhhh yeah like I said I was really out of it, so...” Jackie shrugged. “Not that much. I remember them appearing, I think. There were, like, footsteps, and then a bunch of strangers appeared in the doorway.”
“Did they have to kick it down?” Marvin asked, sounding a little too excited at the idea.
“No, it was already open. I dunno why. Maybe he forgot to close it all the way, he was in a hurry.” Jackie mumbled that last part under his breath, but Chase and Marvin heard it easily enough. “Anyway, they picked me up, and I’m sort of assuming there was a ride to the hospital of some kind, but I completely zoned that out. I kinda vaguely remember a bunch of doctors and some bright lights? But, uh...yeah. Otherwise, I just woke up here, in the bed, and thought I was daydreaming it all.”
“You must have some vivid daydreams, bro,” Chase muttered.
“Yeah.” Jackie nodded.
Marvin gave Jackie an odd look. “I don’t know if having daydreams that strong is normal.”
“No, probably not, but it doesn’t matter, really,” Jackie dismissed.
Marvin looked like he was ready to push the issue, but Chase put a hand on his shoulder and subtly shook his head. This wasn’t the time. “Well, we’re...we’re just really glad you’re okay, Jackie,” he said softly. “We were so fucking worried. You—you’re alright, right?”
Jackie patted himself over, wincing a bit as he pressed on his chest. “Mostly, yeah.”
“Yeah. We’re so happy you’re back,” Marvin added. “What...what happened?” Chase gave him a sharp look, but it was too late, the question was out.
“What happened?” Jackie looked at Marvin incredulously. “I got fucking kidnapped, that’s what happened. And then—a-and then—I was—we—” He stopped, taking a few deep breaths. “Sorry, I...I can’t talk about it.”
Marvin winced. “Sorry. Th-that was—that was rude. It just sort of came out. You don’t have to talk about it. Like Chase said, we were just...really worried, and we—we want to know you’re okay.”
“It’s fine, just be careful,” Jackie said quietly. “I’m okay. Except for the obvious.” In the moment of silence that followed, his eyes drifted down, attention drawn by the bandages on his upper arm. Frowning in strange concentration, he reached up and started pulling at them.
“Whoa, dude, what’re you doing?” Chase almost reached out to grab his wrist, but stopped, thinking that wouldn’t be well-received. “You need those!”
“I just wanna confirm something,” Jackie muttered, managing to loosen the tight bandages enough to start unwinding them. “They can be put back on.”
“I—you’re not wrong, but—what if there’s—I don’t know, a lot of blood, or something?” Chase speculated.
“I don’t think so. Not if I’m remembering right.” Jackie slowly removed the bandages, unwinding and pulling them off. Until, eventually, the wounds underneath were visible.
All three of them stiffened in unison. Jackie’s arm was cut up, but not in a random or accidental way. Instead, the word WARNING was carved into his skin, in bleeding capital letters, going from his shoulder, all down his arm, reaching his elbow. 
“What the fuck...?” Chase said, unable to say anything else. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. Stuff like that didn’t happen in real life, only in crime dramas. Who would actually do that?
Jackie’s face shifted as he covered up his distress with a blank expression. “So I was right,” he said tonelessly, attempting to rewrap the bandages one-handedly. Chase pulled himself out of his stunned stupor to bend over and help him with them.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
“Huh?” Chase stopped, looking back over at Marvin.
“Anti. I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Marvin repeated through gritted teeth. His posture was stiff, unmoving, his fists clenched. “He takes our friends—JJ, Schneep, Jackie—and does this? I’m going to kill him. I’m going to take a fucking knife or a gun or rope or whatever I can find and I’m going to kill him and watch the fucking life drain from his eyes—”
“Jesus, Marv, calm down!” Chase cried. “You gotta think this through.”
Jackie nodded. “Yeah. You’re not a killer.”
“I could be,” Marvin said bluntly.
“No!” Chase straightened, grabbing Marvin by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him. “Marvin, I get it, you’re upset by recent events and clearly filled with rage. For good reason, I’ll say. But you can’t just walk up to a professional assassin and attack him, you’ll just get killed! Besides, JJ and Schneep wouldn’t want you to do that, even for their sake. Just...take a step back. Go walk around and get it out of your system, if you have to. Don’t do anything stupid.”
For a moment, Chase’s words only seemed to anger Marvin more. But then, he broke away, letting out one long, single breath. He pressed his hands to his eyes, breathed some more, then let out a shout and hit himself in the chest a couple times. Chase jumped in surprise, instinctively reaching forward to stop him, but Marvin was already done. “Alright, fine, you have a point. That’d be a dumb move. Impossible and not worth it. But fuck, we gotta do something.”
Chase nodded. “Yeah. I know how you feel, bro.” Even though common sense would say to leave this to the professionals, he couldn’t just sit by while his friends were in danger.
“Um...” Jackie waved a bit, drawing the other two’s attention back to him. “What do you mean ‘professional assassin’?”
“Oh. Do you not...know?” Chase asked. “I mean, I thought you would, but...I guess maybe there wasn’t an opportunity. That’s, uh...kind of what Anti does. I think what he’s done with Schneep and whatever he has planned now is just...a side thing, maybe. We actually found his website—oh shit!” His eyes widened in remembrance, and he whirled back to face Marvin. “Marv, you’re not gonna believe this, and you probably don’t need any more reason to hate this guy, but he might be the one who stabbed you.”
Marvin gasped. “Shit, really?!”
“The one who what?!” Jackie repeated.
“Oh, right you were...gone by the time that happened.” Marvin grimaced, then quickly filled in Jackie with what happened at the boutique he used to work for. Finding out it was a front, having someone stab him on his way home one night, getting home and patching up just barely in time, then figuring the owners of the front tried to kill him and heading back to Ireland for a few months to let things calm down. “How’d you figure out it was Anti, Chase?”
“I checked his website. He has reviews from past, uhhh…’clients,’ and one left one talking about a failed hit on a guy who sounded like you,” Chase explained.
“Well, shit.” Marvin folded his arms, face grim. “That’s not good. Well, I’m not gonna leave again until this whole thing is cleared up. Fuckers try to kill me again.”
“Y’know I really don’t think you should tempt fate like that,” Jackie pointed out.
“Fate doesn’t exist, only karma. They’ll get what’s coming to them thricefold, I’m not leaving.”
“I guess...you don’t have to,” Chase said skeptically. “But be careful. We’re not losing anyone else.”
Marvin nodded, expression finally softening. He grabbed Chase’s hand and squeezed it. “I will be.”
“Good.” Chase sighed. “Well, Jackie. This has been a lot of excitement. We should probably let you get some rest.”
“No no no!” Jackie protested. “I-it’s fine, I don’t want you guys to go yet. I...it’s been...so long. You know?”
Chase nodded sadly. “Almost a year.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” Jackie grabbed the edge of the hospital blanket, twisting it. “So...you have a lot to catch me up on, then. I-it’s gonna take a while. You should sit down.”
Marvin and Chase glanced at each other. Then Marvin shrugged. “There are better chairs in this room than in Jack’s,” he said.
Chase laughed. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it—”
“You were thinking it, though?”
“Exactly.”
“Glad to hear my chairs are superior,” Jackie said, smiling a bit. “Pull one up.”
“Alright, Jackieboy Man, we have some time,” Chase grinned. “There’s a lot you’ve missed.”
The three of them sat, talking for hours about things that mattered a lot, and things that didn’t matter at all.
——————
“—can’t believe they—how did they know about—probably figured out about the others too—”
Jameson wasn’t paying much attention to Anti’s muttering, but every so often, he caught random snatches as Anti paced back and forth. Every time he passed by the doorway, more angry phrases passed through into the bedroom beyond. Something really had him upset, didn’t it? From what little he heard, someone had found something, and that was a big problem. Well...he had wondered if the police found Anti’s previous hideout, and if that was the reason he had to drag them out of there. Whatever the case, good. If Anti had a problem, he deserved it.
“—three fucking people in this tiny—gotta find out what’s still—somewhere new? Maybe?—”
Lying on the bed, Jameson saw Anti’s shadow pass to the left...then the right...then the left...then the right.... It kept cutting across the light that was shining into the dim bedroom from the room outside. The living room, to be exact. The living room of the apartment he was now trapped in, to be precise. Though, Anti did seem to be distracted. The bedroom door was wide open, if he wanted he could run out and—No, it probably wouldn’t work. Anti told him the front door was locked, and he probably still had the key on him. Jameson couldn’t take it from him; Anti was much stronger. Besides, even if the key had been sitting out on the table, Jameson wasn’t the only person who needed to get out.
Speaking of which...
He rolled over to his side, now facing the bedroom wall. There was a window on this side, but the shutters were closed, and actually had a padlock making sure they couldn’t be moved. Anti probably had that key, too. There was a wardrobe in one corner and a dresser in the other, the former having its doors ajar to show it was empty inside. Or...empty of clothes, at least. A figure was pressed against one wall, huddled up, indistinct in the shadows. When Jameson had woken up a few hours ago, there had been faint mumbling and sobbing coming from that direction. Now, there was nothing.
After a moment of listless staring, Jameson sat up, glanced out the doorway to make sure Anti was still occupied in his pacing, then stood and walked over to the wardrobe. He pushed the door farther open and stared down at the figure. A man. Knees pulled up and arms covering face, the classic defensive position. A moment more passed before Jameson sat down on the wardrobe floor next to the shadowy huddle.
“Ah!” The man gasped a bit, then looked up. Wide blue eyes reflected the little light in the dim room. He stared at Jameson, then asked, “Jackie?”
Jameson shook his head.
“No, no. Of course not. I’m sorry, I am just confused.” The man’s eyes squinted a bit. “Do I...know you?”
Jameson shook his head again.
“Oh. Good. I was worried for a moment there.” The man uncurled a bit, taking his arms away from his face. He reached down to his ankles, slightly adjusting the cuffs around them, binding them together. Then he glanced around. “I do not recognize this place, either. Do you?” When Jameson shook his head for a third time, the man tilted his head. “Can you...not speak?”
Faintly surprised, Jameson nodded. Most people would ask why he was quiet or demand that he talk. Only a few caught on to the reality without him somehow cuing them with signs or writing.
“Ah, I’m sorry, then. Can you hear me?”
A nod.
“I see.” The man glanced out at the room again. “My name—my name is Henrik.” So Jameson’s guess was right. This was the Dr. Schneeplestein he’d heard so much about, and had one brief meeting with, a meeting that had ended badly. “What is your—what do I call you?”
Thinking for a moment, Jameson reached out and gently took one of Schneep’s hands. He stiffened a bit, but allowed him to do so. Jameson then drew out the letter J twice on the surface of his palm.
“JJ? Oh, that is very nice.” Schneep smiled faintly. “I understand some sign language, you know. But I am afraid I am very rusty. I do not think I could hold a conversation.” His smile fell. “Do you...know why we are here?”
Jameson nodded sadly. He gestured out towards the room, in the direction of the doorway Anti was pacing and muttering in front of.
Schneep shuddered. “Yes, I—I have—he has—I have been in this situation. Before.”
Jameson pointed at himself, then made the sign for also by pointing his fingers and touching his hands together.
“I know that one. You...you know him, too?” Schneep’s voice held a combination of horror, sympathy, and strangely, hope. Hope that he wasn’t alone. “I suppose I don’t have to explain, then.”
Letting out a huff of dark laughter, Jameson shook his head.
“Hmm. That is good.” Schneep scanned Jameson, taking in as many details he could in the faint light. “I...something about this time is...different. Than when he last took me.” He suppressed another shiver as he looked up towards the shadow passing back and forth on the ceiling. “I...am sorry you are here.”
Jameson scooted closer to him. He put one hand on Schneep’s shoulder and signed Sorry with his other. Neither of them should be here. Anti should never have interfered in their lives again.
Schneep let out a shaky breath, and leaned closer to Jameson until he was resting his weight against him. Jameson pressed his head against his. And together, they listened to the sound of their nightmare pacing and muttering, wondering what was next for them.
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ineffable-snowman ¡ 4 years ago
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(apologies in advance to the people who followed me for Good Omens. I’m diving headfirst into a new fandom, so I’m afraid there’s going to be a lot of Sambucky in the next three weeks at least...)
I wrote a fic inspired by episode 3 of FATWS. Read it here or on AO3.
Trouble Man
“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete, comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.”
What kind of passive-aggressive bullshit was that? It was annoying enough that Zemo insisted on calling him ‘James’ in that patronising way of his but now he tried to lecture him or rather tried to make him look stupid, uncultured and ignorant. Bucky wanted to laugh at Zemo’s comment that sounded more like he was quoting a Wikipedia article to appear sophisticated, but then Sam spoke up.
“He is out of line – but he is right.”
Fuck Zemo. Seriously, Bucky had enough reason to hate Zemo but this was on another level. This was personal. He made Bucky look stupid, uncultured and ignorant in front of Sam. And the thing was, he was mostly ignorant about Marvin Gaye. He had listened to some of the tracks from Trouble Man just because they were on Steve’s list, and had quickly decided that it was not his kind of music. Now he wished he had at least listened to the whole album so he could contribute more than a weak “I like Marvin Gaye”, which fooled absolutely no one. He had no idea how a simple conversation about music had escalated like this. It had seemed like perfectly normal banter, Sam making fun of him for being old-fashioned, and then Zemo had interfered with that comment and it was downhill from there.
For some reason Sam was very passionate about Marvin Gaye and Bucky was intent on finding out why. Also, he needed to find out how music could be “complete, comprehensive” and “capture the African-American experience.” In his experience, music was used for dancing and for fun and that’s all there was to it. He stared at the notebook. There was some really good advice in it, like Thai food or Star Wars. So far, Bucky had not seen the appeal of Marvin Gaye. But apparently Steve had. If Steve had adored the music so much, why had he just simply crossed it out in a neat line and not, for example, put an exclamation mark behind it? Bucky added two exclamation marks.
Right, how to do this? Not for the first time he regretted just getting a simple flip phone instead of one of those fancy smartphones. When the shop assistant had told him that he needed a phone for taking photos and listening to music, Bucky had almost laughed at him. Talking about stupid… He could really use Youtube or Google now.
“Do you have a computer with internet?” he asked Sharon.
She looked at him like he was stupid (it was becoming a theme) but showed him to a computer and even gave him earphones. Then he started to listen to Trouble Man and this time did not skip any tracks but listened to the whole songs. He also googled the lyrics but that did not leave him any the wiser. Doctor Raynor would probably tell him to use his goddamn mouth and just ask someone, for heaven’s sake. He would rather get frozen again than ask Zemo. But it also felt extremely wrong that Zemo, who was supposed to be one of the bad guys, seemed to know and understand Sam better than Bucky, who was supposed to be Sam’s…whatever. Were they friends? Bucky certainly considered Sam a friend (although he never would say it out oud), probably the only friend he had left. Someone who texted you and asked you how you were and invited you to lunch was a friend, right? Someone who even saved your ass and (repeatedly) broke the law for you was a very good friend. But did Sam consider someone his friend who did not text back, who repeatedly got him into trouble, kept things from him and had even tried to kill him? Bucky stared at the screen. It was a miracle Sam had not tried to kill him yet. It was even more of a miracle that he was still being nice (sometimes). He googled “Trouble Man” and “African-American experience”. To his disappointment, it was not a quote from a Wikipedia article. So Zemo knew what was going on and Bucky did not. He turned up the volume and tried to make sense of the lyrics (“Got me singin' – yeah, yeah – Hoo“).
“Finally doing some catching up on the good stuff?”
Bucky turned around so quickly that the earphones were ripped out of his ears. Sam had put up his hands in defence and was babbling something about attacking or not attacking or whatever.
“Jesus.” Bucky consciously unclenched his left fist. “Couldn’t you just knock?”
“I did. You didn’t answer.” Sam pointed at the screen where the Youtube video of Trouble Man was still running. “I knew it,” he said gleefully. “You have no idea who Marvin Gaye is.”
“I do!” Bucky protested but then trailed off because he may have heard some of Gaye’s songs but he still did not know who Marvin Gaye was.
“So.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you think? Honestly.”
Bucky looked from Sam to the screen to the dangling earphones. I like it was not an appropriate answer. Not an honest one. “I don’t get it,” he finally said.
“No appreciation for good music.” Sam sighed dramatically. “Hopeless. Stuck in the 40s forever.”
Bucky could have left it at that. They were on common ground again, bickering but not hurting each other, it felt familiar, safe. “No,” he said nevertheless. “I – how? How is this music – how does it…capture the African-American experience? Most of the songs don’t even have lyrics.”
“You don’t need lyrics for music to be meaningful.”
“How? Is it because people listen to it in certain situations or…?”
“Alright. Ready for a lesson on 20th century music? You better take notes.”
Bucky opened the notebook and took a pen. Then he noticed Sam’s grin. Right, he hadn’t meant it literally. But now Bucky had already opened the notebook and he was determined to go through with it. So he wrote down all the names Sam dropped, the musical genres and important songs. It was a lot and, as a lot of things, it confused Bucky but he just rolled with it. So some bands destroyed instruments on stage and certain music apparently had a soul? Great. Speaking of souls, this was probably the right time for some soul-gazing to show Sam that he was actively listening. (Doctor Raynor would be so proud of him.) Sam kept bringing up the soul thing several more times until finally Bucky could not keep quiet any longer.
“What’s with this soul music? Is it, like…music for funerals?”
Sam stared at him. Bucky stared back.
“Okay, scoot over.” Sam squeezed on the chair next to Bucky so Bucky almost fell over on the other side. Then he reached over Bucky to grab the mouse, opened another tab and chose a Youtube video for Bucky to listen to. “This is soul music.”
It was highly uncomfortable because the chair was not made for two people and they both weren’t exactly small but Bucky was resolved to stay on the chair, at least with one thigh. Sam chose video after video, pointed out characteristic musical features, quoted parts of the lyrics and talked about the history or the significance the songs. It was still a lot and Bucky still did not get everything but he dutifully took notes to look up some things in detail later. When he had filled the sixth page in his notebook, Sam stopped the music lesson.
“So, 40s music. Any recommendations?”
Bucky turned to face him. They were awfully close. Sam’s eyes were somehow very soft, there was the hint of a smile on his lips and he looked very huggable in that thin turtleneck – and he looked genuinely interested in Bucky’s answer. Bucky felt hot shame flooding him. Sam could be aggravating and an outright asshole but he was too kind for this world. Too kind to Bucky.
“Nah,” he mumbled. “Music in the 40s was just for dancing, for fun. Not…not important like your music.”
“Oh, you can dance just fine to my music,” Sam said in mock outrage. “Come on.” He elbowed Bucky out of the chair and chose another Youtube video, then stood up, too.
“Soul music?” Bucky guessed when the first chords of an electric guitar could be heard.
“Funk. Close enough.”
Sam started to move to the music. It should be ridiculous, the weird moves he was doing, because that certainly wasn’t proper dancing, not the dancing Bucky knew anyway – no rehearsed dancing steps, more like a spontaneous swaying to the music and some of the moves were definitely ridiculous but Sam made them look, well, smooth.
“See, that’s dance music, too,” Sam said and came to stand in front of Bucky.
Bucky had no idea why it was even called dancing but he wasn’t going to say that because he did not want to offend Sam again.
But of course Sam had to nag him. “Spit it out.”
“What?”
“I can see the cyborg gears turning. What’s wrong with dancing?”
“Nothing. Just not what I’m used to.”
“You can choose the next song. For now – get those hips moving.” He nudged Bucky, and how could Bucky say no? After Sam had spent all that time educating him and only mildly making fun of him for his ignorance, he owed it to him.
“This is ridiculous, I feel ridiculous,” Bucky complained when he tried to copy some of Sam’s moves.
“You’re doing great,” Sam said but he was grinning, clearly enjoying how Bucky was making a fool of himself. “Maybe tone down the staring a bit.”
Well, if it made Sam happy… Bucky decided to give it his all and moved wildly to the rhythm, not caring if it could be called “dancing” or not. Nonetheless, he was a little relieved when the song was over.
“Your turn.” Sam indicated the computer.
Bucky had no idea which song to pick. He tentatively typed “Billie Holiday” into the search bar.
“Seriously?” Sam came up behind him. “You know Billie Holiday and say you don’t understand how music can capture the African-American experience?”
It was like a punch in the face. A well-deserved punch probably. “I mostly saw her as the singer of love songs, for slow dancing,” he admitted. “Never really…thought much about it.”
“So what, you’re going to slow dance with me, Barnes?” It wasn’t the usual good-natured banter but sounded more like an accusation.
“Look, Sam, I…” Bucky rubbed his temples. “Let’s head downstairs to that party to…” hopefully not dance. Whatever. Get out of this situation where, he feared, he was breaking rule #2 again.
“No, let’s do this.” Sam clicked on the first link and a swing tune started to play, Me, Myself and I. “Let’s slow dance if that’s what you do.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
It was certainly the most aggressive ask for a dance he had ever received. And he had never been this stiff during a dance before. He used to be a good dancer back in the days but now he felt clumsy when he placed his hand on Sam’s back while trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.
They had not even made eight uncoordinated steps when Sam started to speak. “Would it hurt you to use that brain of yours once in a while? It’s supposed to be working properly again, isn’t it? That’s what I heard at least.”
Doctor Raynor’s words came back to him, that he was free. To do what? Certainly to do better than hurt the man who had always had his back without Bucky ever having done anything to deserve that kind of loyalty.
“I’m sorry,” he said, unconsciously tightening his grip on Sam’s back.
“What for?”
Everything. “For being…kind of… thoughtless, I guess.”
Being so close, he could actually feel Sam exhale. “That’s the understatement of the century.”
“For being a huge dick,” Bucky offered.
“Better,” Sam grumbled. “Now, was that so hard?”
Bucky took a step back to gauge Sam’s reaction. He was relieved to find no traces of hurt or betrayal in Sam’s eyes, just the usual exasperation he put on when looking at Bucky. “Yes. Physically painful,” he tentatively tested the water. It was like a dance, back and forth, seeing how far you could get.
Sam rolled his eyes. “I hate you. And please stop staring.”
Bucky shrugged and pulled Sam close again, in fact, so close that he did not have to look into Sam’s eyes anymore but was now staring at his left shoulder. Sam was visibly relaxing in Bucky’s arms and wasn’t that a miracle, that he was still in Bucky’s arms, still allowed Bucky to hold him?
“Thank you,” Bucky mumbled into Sam’s shoulder.
“What for?”
Everything. Bucky tightened his hold on Sam (and silently thanked the autoplay function that started the next song because he was in no way ready to let go of Sam yet). “I’m a mess and you don’t deserve all that shit I throw at you.”
“Mm. You’re welcome.” Sam squeezed his shoulder, like a reassurance that he would continue to put up with all of Bucky’s bullshit. Too damn kind for this world. Good thing he had Bucky on his side who was going to beat up everyone who so much as tried to exploit Sam’s kindness. (Yes, he knew he was being hypocritical and should technically start with beating up himself.)
“Sharon was wrong,” Bucky said. “I’m not obsessed with the whole stars and stripes stuff. I didn’t follow Steve because he had that shield. And I’m – well, you might’ve noticed I’m here and not following that – that asshole. Sam, I think you should take the shield but, with or without the shield, I’ll follow you. Just so you know.”
Sam was silent for quite some time, they were just swaying gently to the music, until Bucky heard close to his ear, “That a threat, Buck?” He could almost sense the smile against his cheek.
“Just a fact. And I hate you too, by the way.”
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violetfaust ¡ 4 years ago
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(Belated) TFATWS 1.3 roundup
This will probably be surprising to anyone whom I’ve subjected to my megaton of tfatws reblogs--but ep 1.3 was my least favorite of the series so far. And unfortunately every time I try to put together my breezy little liveblogging impressions, I get immediately stuck wanting to write ten paragraphs of WHY it’s my least favorite, which, in so many words: too little Sam POV. And by this time, plenty of other people who agree with me on this have written plenty of thoughtful threads on why, so I am just going to...let it go. For the moment. (And maybe just make it a separate ten-paragraph post.) Anyway, tl;dr:
I still enjoyed the episode
I’m still loving the show
I still think we’ll get emotional and dramatic payoff; BUT
I’m disappointed with my fave’s treatment this time around.  
Okay! Got it down to one paragraph and a bulleted list. Onward.
I’m relieved that Isaiah is at least in the previouslys.
I dunno, man, that cheesy commercial alone doesn’t make the GRC seem like the good guys, even before you follow it up with Walker throwing his weight around.
“Do you know who I am?” And just like that, Walker shows his true colors and proves he’s not worthy of the legacy. Because he’s a person who allows power and fame to corrupt him.
So is Zemo Nazi/Hydra or is he just a Nazi/Hydra fanboy? 
“What are you reading?” “Machiavelli.” “Yeah, you definitely seem like the kind of guy to break out of high-security prison. This is a good idea.”
“We are NOT breaking him out!!!” *puppy dog eyes* “sigh. fine”
I know the fandom loves Zemo, but man he is a little bitch. It literally takes him three minutes to start breaking down both Bucky and Sam. How the fuck did he even get his hands on Bucky’s notebook? (see below) Excuse me, Steve’s notebook. <x3
“Heartbreaking: Worst person you know just made a great point.”--> Sam re: Zemo and Marvin Gaye.
So Karli is friends with a cute little girl, sees her mother/mentor die unnecessarily, and just wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and we think she’s the villain? NO.
This is getting super long so....below.
Heartbreaking Pt. 2: Yes, Sam, Zemo is right and you look good in the suit. (That is impeccable pattern matching, btw. I did not watch seven seasons of Project Runway for nothing.)
Okay, I should save this for my ten-paragraph bitching post but: I KNOW the trope of “undercover guy has to eat something gross to pass” is objectively funny. But Sam is from Louisiana.  I can guarantee you the man has eaten frog and/or alligator AT LEAST once. In fact, since the family business is shrimping, there’s a non-zero chance that he has prepared and served super-gross foods such as six-inch sea cockroaches with heads and ganglia attached. He should NOT have been fazed by a cocktail with fresh snake gonads or whatever those were. You know what would have been a funny take? Sam knocks back the drink, then says: “Delicious. And [pointing to Zemo] one for my friend here.”  (AM is hilarious here though.)
“Power Broker, really?” Goes with “Smiling Tiger is a bad name” and “Battlestar? Stop the car!” (Frankly, a person still going by “Winter Soldier” does not have a lot of room to criticize here...)
How does Zemo wearing a cool coat and dancing like a cute dork make up for what he’s doing to Bucky here? Sebstan had tears shining in his eyes. 
Love language: “You good?”
The layers of Sam, an African American man from the South, watching another human, his friend, apparently being sold...
REALLY? Sam didn’t put his phone on silent? (Bless Sarah for being a civilian and not playing along...)
HOWEVER this is a pretty ugly reminder in this episode when Zemo is throwing around his zillions and his private plane while Sam can’t get a loan to save his family business.
Was it Sharon who killed Selby? I’m confused?
Sharon! Being the poster woman for landing on her feet. Good for her. And thank you, Sharon, for having a wardrobe of men’s wear in Bucky and Sam’s sizes. Although if you could have gotten one of them to wear that sequined number...
It is just hard to accept that Steve and the Avengers did her SO dirty that they simply ignored her in the two years they were on the run. (It also doesn’t gibe with Sam and even Bucky seeming to know Sharon, since they never met before CW.) Come to think of it though, I don’t remember how Steve even got himself pardoned after IW?
I’ve read the theories that she might be the Power Broker, which seems unlikely purely on the practical basis that if she was blipped for five years she’d lose her standing, but this is Marvel, so who cares about making sense? If she is, I hope she’s not treated as a flat-out villain; maybe she deliberately let Karli and her group get the SS serum rather than Hydra wannabes? 
Let’s hear it for Sharon--kicking ass and not even bothering with the names.
Nagel is the most villainous villain who has villained here so far. What a waste.
So there are up to twelve SS serum doses left. Calling it now: Walker is going to do whatever he has to in order to get his hands on one of them.
However I do NOT want Sam to take one. He doesn’t need to be superpowered to be a hero.
“Partners each convinced the other is the sidekick.” 
We’ve all been waiting for this callback.
That had better not be the last of Sharon. She has her own minion--this should be good.
Look: the only reason Bucky would even CONSIDER taking the shield is that Sam says he doesn’t want it. (And I’m not sure he even IS seriously considering it so much as trying to make Sam reconsider.)
So I said this elsewhere but: apparently Zemo is redeemable. Sharon killed about fourteen people this episode alone. Bucky killed “almost everyone he ever met.” Sam offed helicopters full of terrorists in ep 1. Karli’s victims are not exactly innocent--they are hoarding resources meant for those refugee children and sick people.  I am not giving up on my daughter for this. ;-)
Heartbreaking #3: Bucky and Sam were dead for five years so it’s not exactly fair to call them out for not visiting the Sokovia memorial but...would they have thought of it?
WAKANDA! Finally! They’ve been teasing it since ep 1 but I didn’t think we’d actually get there. (Although I’m 100% sure that Shuri is one of the nine numbers in Bucky’s phone.)
Not a lot of Sambucky this time around, although we did get
Sam being a sweetly worried boyfriend throughout. Sam calling him “Buck” at least three times--with no pushback. 
Bucky very determinedly NOT looking at ALL at shirtless Sam. Not at all. 
And POSSIBLY Bucky reading a self-help book about forming strong erotic love relationships. 
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