#penny stays out of it but doesn’t help anyone either
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goldensunset · 1 year ago
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please let carmine and kieran meet the paldea trio please please i wanna witness that full group dynamic
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rqnarok · 30 days ago
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thinking about being old man!logan’s little housewife...
headcanons - cws/tags: sexual content, mdni! old man!logan. dom/sub undertones. age gap. both characters are of the age of consent. unprotected p in v. 18+ only.
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logan’s all worn out. there is no justification made on depicting how done he is with the world. he lives his days in an accustomed routine - dread crawling on his scarred skin - digging the soil for his own grave. 
when he meets you, however, the horror, the panic, and the terror begin to fade away from his blurry orbs—replaced by the sight of your sugary sweet smile. you kept him calm by easing down his drinking and self-destruction. and he just can’t deny you, not when his dick gets so fucking hard when you’re around.
you can’t help it either. the need to fix someone seems very familiar in your generation—so sentimental and at the same time, pragmatic. never accepting ‘no’ for an answer, including when he tries to back you down by saying “ya’ don’t want me, kid. i’m an old dog.” as if sunlight to a plant, it only motivates you. leaving him flushed red and burrows knitted after you whispered filthy remarks to his ear. 
up to the point where he finally tears down his prejudices towards marriage and puts a shiny ring on your finger. 
he turns a blind eye to anyone glancing at him weirdly at how much older he looks compared to you, his salt-and-pepper beard not helping either. when charles notices the changes in him—how he seems to smile more and how hickeys sprawled up on his neck—he just can’t help but make snarky comments about it. logan’s too old for you (or so charles told him), and logan finds himself balking at that. 
“if she doesn’t want it, she would’ve left already.”
he’s right. if you didn’t want it, you would’ve left him. oh, but you stayed. and not only did you stay, but you also took care of him. letting you eat out the palm of his hands. 
greeting logan when he comes back from his blue-collar work, cooking and baking his favorite foods, ironing his work clothes and spraying the fabric with a lovely scent, kissing his bloodied knuckles, putting the prettiest outfit for him as a show, warming his cock when he sits lazily on the couch, nuzzling his thighs while you wait for him to get harden again, and letting him have you anywhere and anytime he wants.
logan keeps a polaroid of you while he’s away. a reminder to himself that he has a home now. he’d keep it in his wallet or his jacket pocket or hanging it on the car’s rear-view mirror. how empty was he to be so full of you now?
he never thought he would live a life like this—like how it is supposed to be. without you knowing, logan added one or two hours into his shift so that he could earn more extra pennies. the money he’ll use to pamper you, to make you feel comfortable and content. let you buy anything you want—all things on your shopping list are checked out by the end of the week.
and y’know, he’s an old man who’s not as strong as he used to be. so you pay for all this hard work by burying your face in logan’s neck as you ride him on the sofa. his head tilts slightly to catch your red-kissed lips with his - logan breathes something about how good you’re making him feel, “such a good little wife f’r your old man.”
he loves to tease you—telling you that you’re making him feel younger than ever when he’s with you, “gettin’ tired already, baby? need me t’do it for ya’?” his murmurs get to you as his large palms cup your ass, getting a handful of the plush skin before guiding you up and down his girth. 
logan knows how tired you can be, especially when you start whining desperately like this, so he gives one or two light smacks for encouragement, “there ya’ go, kiddo. fuck. don’t stop now. doin’ so well, baby. so good.” 
how you always ask for kisses from him ignites that taboo, perverted part of him he did not even know existed. anything that reminds him of how needy you are for him — feels so fucking wrong. but again, it gets his dick so fucking hard, too. he cannot help but to give in. 
“bet no one has ever fucked this pretty pussy like i have, huh? need a real man to do it.”
he’s so fucking smug of himself since he had you. knowing those boys your age wishes that you choose them instead. but he’ll know that would never happen because when he says something like “look acha, drooling over an old man like me. gonna let me fill ya’ up, hm?” your walls manage to grip his girth tighter - squeezing him in so deliciously logan wonders what kind of a heroism act he did to deserve you. 
makes you do a little ‘fashion show’ for him in the living room, parading yourself wearing all kinds of clothes that he bought. logan spreads his muscular thighs wide as he reads the newspaper—and the sight of him wearing his glasses that rest at the tip of his nose is holy to you, waiting to be worshipped. 
you’d come out with a white lingerie that barely covers anything, “do you like it, lo?” whilst you giggle and twirl in front of him, you almost miss how he adjusted his seating position to palm himself through his trousers. telling you, “c’mere here, baby. lemme take good look at’cha, gimme some sugar.” 
by ‘taking a look’ he means hiking up the sheer cloth to inspect your glistening mound, “hm. such a perfect pussy you got here, sweet’art.” probing his thick finger on the wet slick, humming at the dirty squelching sound. the look that he has makes your legs tremble  - his untrimmed greying beard - his vague-looking face scars. 
oh, coming home to you is the best part of his day. always. he’d see you heating the soup you made earlier and loses his fucking mind. turning off the stove in quick movements before hauling you up in his arms. 
skin meets skin slapping fills the room and praises come out of his mouth so naturally, “f-fuck. gon’ stuff ya’ up, darlin'." you’re vulnerable and bare, you can’t even think when he’s got you like this. 
logan would intertwine his fingers with yours. placing them side by side to see the wedding rings. a legitimate reminder that you’re his and he’s yours—forever. 
“good little wife. my good little wife.” 
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world-of-aus · 8 months ago
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AHEM. GOOD EVENING! I hope you're alive because I'm not 🤤
I am not okay, but I was inspired...
Worth Every Penny
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Warnings: HEA. Pinch of Insecurities, Fluff, a doting and loving Bucky Barnes.
You can feel his eyes on you as you adjust the lone button beneath his bowtie, your fingers smoothing over the fabric as you list the details of tonight's charity auction. 
“You’ll be called on after Steve, and please for the love of God don’t forget to smile.” you say as your eyes meet his. There’s a grin on his pink lips, “like that,” you point tapping the stubble skin of his cheek. His hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there, “as long as you promise to raise your number tonight, I’ll smile all you want me too.” 
You only half roll your eyes, pushing your tongue against your cheek to keep your own smile in check, “I will not be responsible for your father’s death James.” He laughs, hand finding your waist, fingers curling to pull you flush against his chest, “good thing you’ll be with Ma, you can wave that number of yours as much as you want, put it on my card even sweetheart.” 
“James.” 
The hand that held your wrist finds your cheek, his touch comforting as he searches your gaze, “sweetheart if I cared what my father thought I’d be his next in line, but I’m not, I’m running my own show, the way my father should have – and you and everyone else that matters knows that. So wave your number if you want to – or don’t because at the end of the night I’m coming home to you regardless of what anyone thinks, says, or does.” 
“B,” you murmur and he can’t help but to chuckle because he knows he’s got you now. He feels you melt into him, “stop thinking, can see those gears running, don’t care what anyone has to say tonight, just care about you.” 
He makes it so easy for you to forget the whole world, forget the two very ‘different’ worlds you came from, the ones certain individuals just loved to make so painfully obvious to you – to him. And between your internal scolding and Bucky’s constant reassurance you knew you shouldn’t care, nobody else mattered except the man that held you in his arms but you couldn’t help it, their whispered words stung. They all only saw you as the successful mob bosses  secretary. To many like him you weren’t his equal, weren’t worthy of his time except for making sure to keep track of his time. 
A knock on his office door pulls the two of your from the intimate moment, the two of you stepping away from one another. Sam’s voice calls for the two of you, “it’s time, we’ve got to head out now.” You smoothed him over one more time, Sam pushing the door open further, “remember,” you say running a hand over his cheek “smile.” 
Sam calls for you one more time now fully waiting for you by the open doorway arm waiting for yours. You turn to move over to him but Bucky’s hand stops you, “Ill always choose you, remember that.” You give him a smile, one the two of you know doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Bucky wont let you leave like that so he pulls you to him, his lips finding yours in an unexpected but reassuring kiss.  
He only hands you over to Sam when he knows he’s kissed you breathless, “Take care of her Sam,” he tells his best friend and right-hand. Sam nods looping your arm with his, “you know I will, cars out front, your ma and sister are waiting.”  
The two of you follow your boss, out of his office making sure he makes it out to the car, Winnie rolling the window down to coo over you, “you looks absolutely stunning in that dress!” “we’ll save you and Sam a seat,” Rebecca calls from next to her mom. 
Before he enters the car with his mom and sister Bucky turns to the two of you, “when you get there, the four of you stay together,” he turns to Sam, “don’t let either of them out of your sight.” 
“I’ve got it handled man, get out of here before you get there late and your dad blows a damn fuse.” You and Sam watch him get into the car, watching it pull out of the driveway shortly after before moving to your own vehicle. 
“You know George will blow a fuse tonight either way right?” you laugh as you buckle yourself in. Sam laughs as he puts the car into drive, “Seeing Bucky alone will have him popping a blood vessel, that man can’t stand to see his son succeed.” 
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The gala is in full swing by the time you and Sam arrive, several well-known notorious families all coming together for one big event that benefits all. You recognize several faces that have come through Bucky's office as you walk arm in arm with Sam through the ballroom to where the tables are pressed along the corners.  
You greet the familiar faces kindly as you pass through the tables where Winnie and Becca wait for you, Winnie’s hand flagging the two of you down, your name being called through the air. Bucky’s mother makes niceties for the other watchful eyes in the room, encouraging you to join them, of course you and Sam can’t pass the offer up – it wouldn’t look right in the eyes of the other families watching on, you thank her sweetly as you take your seat, Sam taking the one next to you. 
You can feel his eyes on you as you talk with his mother, he's sitting a table away with his father. George Barnes had saw to it that his son’s seat was assigned at his table, ‘there is business to attend to, new heads for you to meet that have been placed at my table it’ll be good for you to build your name.’ had been his excuse. Though you know that hadn’t been the case if the brunette-haired woman sitting next to him, leaning much to closely for your liking had been any indication. George Barnes had been trying to set Bucky up with Dot since you started on as his son’s secretary.  Bucky had no interest then, and he had no interest now, his eyes always looking your way, to be fair you tried to keep it to a minimum how often you glanced his way. 
 “You should raise your number tonight when he goes up dear.” Your eyes find Winnie’s and there's a warm smile waiting on her lips, “I know that’s what my son would want, and I know that's what you want as well.” Your eyes find her hand that's still placed warmly over yours, “I know Ma, but I don’t want to cause him any trouble – not tonight - and knowing your ex-husband there will be hell to be had if I so much as raise a hand when your son’s name is announced.” Winnie scoffs, “that man has raised hell every day since Bucky chose to build his own name, a name not tarnished by his father, George isn’t used to not getting his way, he’s used to glaring people down and getting what he wants, when in all reality it was his son that was getting him what he wanted and now that he doesn't have that, well he’s not used to losing so he brings down people to get what he wants. And you my dear are unfortunately his biggest target because he’s seen how much Bucky cares for you, how much he loves you.” 
Your eyes flicker to hers drawing a laugh from woman you’ve come to love as your own over the years you’ve worked alongside Bucky. “Don’t tell me you don’t see it y/n, my boy is as smitten as ever, can hardly get him to come see me on his own anymore.” 
“That’s where I come in.’ Becca laughs from beside her mom, “and even then he has to make it a whole day for us girls just to make sure he’s close by – can’t risk anything happening to my girls.” Rebecca says doing her best impersonation of her brother. 
You laugh then recalling all the Sunday afternoons that turned into family outings because ‘why not? I love keeping my girls happy, and you never know Becs mom might want a new set of nails after breakfast.’ Winnie never did need a fresh set, but the Barnes women always indulged Bucky in his Sunday breakfast with his ma turned family outings if only to keep him happy, because he deserved it.  
“He really does love you,” Sam chimes in from next to you, his shoulder bumping yours softly, “though to be fair he was smitten the day you scolded his father in front of his men.” 
“I swear that’s the day I made an enemy of that man,” you chuckle your eyes moving towards the table where George Barnes sat. You find awaiting eyes and a kind smile from the man that holds your heart, you return his smile, “that was also the start of the rest of your life, Bucky’s offered you more than George ever could, and in turn you’ve given my son the means to be who he is now.” 
Your laugh is watery as you fan at your eyes, Winnie cooing over you as she pulls you into her side pressing her lips to the side of your head. Rebecca eventually squeezes in Sam throwing his arm the best he can over the three of you. Before you arrived you might have though twice about using the black card nestled in your clutch but now, now you’d do it proudly. A table over Bucky can’t help but to worry as his family circles you, your watery laugh meeting his ears as you assure the table your fine, he has half a mind to leave the table and get to you but then they’re announcing all candidates with their secretaries to the stage. 
Bucky stands watching his mother smoothe you over, he meets you halfway not taking you in his arm right away to search your face. He cups your cheek, the moment intimate eyes surely on the two of you, “are you okay?” 
You smile squeezing the hand that rests on your cheek, “perfect B, come on let’s get you to the stage.” 
He gives you his arm, guiding you through the tables towards the back of the stage, the announcer is talking about the purpose of tonight’s event while the heads of the houses stand in a bunch awaiting their names to be called. Bucky guides you to his friends, Steve’s the first to greet you, Natasha following as she squeezes you in a warm embrace. Then comes stark with Pepper, Odison with Jane, and lastly the newest name vision and Wanda. This was the family Bucky had created after stepping down from his father, and he had you to thank for it, Steve had been the first to rally at his side, but the others came because of you, because of the relationships you helped him build.  
The girls are cleaning up their men as they straighten them out, you turn to your favorite brunette smiling as you squeeze his shoulders. “You keep smiling like that for me, and I’ll smile up on that stage for you.” You laugh, “careful B, don’t want to make it too hard for us to outbid.” 
“Ma did say I was worth every penny.” 
You shake your head at him, fingers running over the lapel of his suit, “you really are B.” 
His lips part to speak but the announcer has begun to call names, “remember sweetheart I’m still yours at the end of the night.”  
“I know B.”  
You let him go moving over to the ladies before you all exit from behind the stage, each of you going back to your respective tables to watch the auction. Vision is the first to be called on stage and his bids alone start off the auction strong. You’re not surprised when Wandas card fly's up, determination set as she outbids every woman who even try's. She closes the bidding for a whopping 10,000, no one ever stood a chance. 
And so, it goes with Odison going on next, Tony following both men closing 5,000 above visions, their secretaries waving at their recognition. The nerves begin to flare when Steve is called upon, your table at the ready with your numbers, Natasha meets your eyes from three tables down, smirk on her face. Steve’s bids started strong with 1,000 being called by Natasha other women chirping in throughout the room, with your table occasionally bouncing in. You begin to sweat when he passes 15,000 the numbers slowly climbing up. Sam closes the bidding with 20,000 you barely stifle your laugh at the wink Steve sends him. 
Bucky’s name is called next, his presence taking over the stage your breath catching in your throat, his eyes scan the entire room but ultimately land on you. Winnie starts the bidding at 3,000 “nobody's taking my boy on a date.” It makes you laugh when Rebecca follows, tacking on another 1,000, Sam taking it up another 2,000 shortly after. Steve’s voice sounds in the room bringing his count up to 7,000. His bid continues to climb the women chirping in outbidded by the ones he loves most. Bucky’s inching on Steve when from the table right next to you Dolores raises her number, 25,000. George finds your eyes, smirk on is devious features, you look away. 
The announcer begins to call out ‘going once twi -” 
Your number goes up, ‘55,000’ you call, the room gasps Winnie laughing next you, squeezing you as she huddles close. The announcer doesn't think twice as he closes the bid for ‘55,000 to the highest bidder of the night, congratulations.’ 
Bucky’s grinning at you with love in his eyes as the announcer calls all winners to come backstage to meet and finalize a date. Aside from Sam who takes Natashas spot though she still follows the two of you, most of the secretaries are making their way behind the stage again. There is laughter in the air as Steve and Sam make dramatics of embracing each other intimately though you only have eyes for one person behind that stage. 
He closes the distance between the two of you, cradling your face in warm hands, “55,000, sweetheart,” he breathes, “my cheeks were already hurting just looking at you.” 
You pull him closer, “I did say you were worth every penny,” you grinned melting into his embrace as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss. 
He was worth every penny and more. 
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vroombeams · 2 months ago
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it's too much there's too much world < sounds like my cup of tea despite me knowing null abt it!! I'm curious!
ah yes landoscar long distance relationship au!
it's turning out to be one of those wips where i'm like. i'll hop in and pick at it every now and then but it makes me like pretty sad to write so it's a small-dose sitch?? it is essentially a love letter to internet friends and a hate letter to the concept of distance lmao
non-driver au, it's so early days that i've not really even sorted what anyone's doing outside of being hopeless and miserable?? but it's like. oscar is working [job] that he really isn't into and he's just having a bit of a slumpy year or two? sad and stagnating or whatever and he's thinking about quitting and looking for something else, but then he meets lando in some forum online and they hit it off, and oscar spends all of the time he can talking to lando, and it sort of like. renews his zest for life? and all the shitty sloggy things are more manageable because he's got this presence in his life now that makes things easier to look at
after they get into the relationship, also, lando does encourage oscar to find some other job that doesn't make him want to peel his skin off, but at that point oscar's already saving every penny and making mental plans to fly to the UK the second lando is okay with him coming to visit. so he doesn't want to start anything new and risk any hiccoughs in pay or also potentially not being able to take the time off he can with his current job etc etc
anyway the fic is of course set around the leadup to their first in-person meeting and then the in-person meeting itself and the two weeks oscar spends staying with lando and how uhhhh. that all goes
pretty big chunk of messy wip under the cut!!
~
The quality in the Discord window settles and he can see Lando’s face properly. The soft square of his jaw. The pink bow of his mouth, curling out and up into a smile that makes Oscar’s chest ache.
He hurts to look at, when it’s like this. When it’s late and Oscar’s had all day to think about how badly he wants him.
“Sorry I’m late,” Lando says. The curve of his mouth goes sheepish. Lando’s selfish, in his way. He expects Oscar to be there when he’s said he’ll be there. But he knows what he’s asking for. They both know all of their uneven parts that don’t quite fit, the pieces of their lives that they’re jamming together, GMT peg into AEST hole.
Oscar shakes his head and he smiles back and he doesn’t have to force that, at least. "No worries. Tell me about your day?”
And Lando’s good at talking, so he does. He tells Oscar about his day, and the job that he doesn’t love but that pays the bills, and about his best friend’s new girlfriend. Lando’s good at talking and Oscar’s good at listening, so that’s what they do. Lando's little late night podcast for an audience of one; Oscar's personal, nightly radio show that quite thoroughly unravels his heartstrings every time.
“Oscar,” Lando says. Oscar blinks. He’s pretty sure he hadn’t been falling asleep. He could probably repeat back whatever Lando’s just said to him.
“Yeah?”
Lando’s quiet for a second, so still that Oscar wonders for a second if his camera’s frozen.
“Less than a month,” Lando says, so quiet that Oscar’s ears twitch.
Oscar smiles. This one’s not forced either. This one he can’t help. It forces itself out instead of having to be pulled. Less than a month and he'll be getting on a plane with a bag packed for two weeks in London. Less than a month and he'll have Lando in front of him, real and in person.
“Yeah,” Oscar says. “I—yeah. I’m excited.”
It's not eloquent or enough but his voice cracks, comes unstuck on its way up. Little hands, desperate fingers, clawing at the insides of his cheeks where a smile wants to haul itself into something worse. 
“Me too,” Lando says. Soft. That’s how Oscar knows he really means it. These are the moments; when Lando goes so soft and quiet. These are the moments that Oscar knows it’s real.
[whips open trenchcoat] hey buddy wanna buy a wip
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nxrdamp · 2 years ago
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For a S/V prompt, how about some fluff with Arven & gender-neutral MC taking a well-deserved rest after the events of Area Zero.
I used to have a puffy vest like his, and they are SOFT. I imagine resting one's head on his chest must feel like heaven.
Arven x Gn! Reader -Comfort at Last
Masterlist
After the devastating realization that the only parent he “had”, hadn’t been there the whole time, Arven felt more alone than ever.
Even when Nemona insisted they all walk back together, he stayed silent.
“How the hell can she be so happy?! That was my parent, back there as a AI!!! The AI even left me….”
I don’t even think my (mother/father) got a proper burial….” Arven thought to himself, struggling farther and farther behind the group
After a few moments, the group left him entirely, as he snuck away. While everyone else was headed back to (Naranja/Uva) Academy, he ran back to his (mother’s/father’s) old research center by the lighthouse
He locked the door as soon as he ran in, and collapsed, letting the tears flow from his eyes.
Mabosstiff came out of his pokéball on his own, snuggling up to Arven to comfort him.
“Why Mabosstiff? Why did you have to raise me? I love you, but I just want them back. I want my (mom/dad)….”
Mabosstiff let out a sad bark, nuzzling his face into Arven’s neck.
Days when by, and still not sign of Arven. Nemona couldnt really bother herself to look and Penny didn’t really know him that well.
(Y/n), however, was searching all over Paldea for him. Even going back to Area Zero to see if he was hiding in the 4th research station to mourn his loss
Eventually, they were walking back to their mother’s house, to seek advice.
Arven was loosing his mind, first he lost his parent, and then Mabosstiff ran away. Was it because he was too pathetic to face reality? Or something else. He didn’t know.
————
(Y/n) was strolling down Poco path, before being pinned to the ground.
“H-Hey! What the hell?!”
They crawled out of the captor’s grasp, to get a good look at them.
It was Mabosstiff, he had left Arven to find help.
“Hey Mabosstiff” (Y/n) said, worried,”Where’s Arven? Is he okay?!”
Mabosstiff shook his head no
“Can you show me to him?”
Mabosstiff gave a bark in reply, agreeing to their request.
“Alright” (Y/n) replied,”We’re going to him right now. I’m……I’m really scared Mabosstiff. I want my friend back. I want him.”
Mabosstiff took that as all the confirmation he needed, and took off, dragging (Y/n) behind him across Pogo Path, leading to the place where they first met, the place where Arven’s (mother/father) used to conduct research.
The two of them walked up to the door, before letting out a shaky sigh.
“Here goes nothing…” They whispered to themselves
(Y/n) then gave a firm knock on the door, only to hear a response of shuffling around the room, and disgruntled noises.
“Ugh. Go away.” Arven said, not even bothering to open the door to see who his visitor is.
Mabosstiff barked, demanding the door to be opened at once.
He ripped the door open, ready to pounce on whoever had his partner.
“YOU-“ Arven said, stopping in his tracks before locking eye contact with (Y/n).
Mabosstiff jumped on Arven, giving him a puppy-hug, as (Y/n) stepped into the dusty, once not so long ago abandoned, research facility.
They coughed from the dust being stirred up, only to find an inflatable mattress on the floor, that looked as if it had seen better days. It was adorned with tear stains and shedded fur.
“Why are you here? Student council girl send you for ‘attendance’ or something?” Arven said, shutting the door to let no one else in.
“No. She actually doesn’t know I’m here. Penny either. I……I care for you Arven. I do. I know Area Zero must have fucked with you in the head. I know that, but….please…I wanna be there for you. I’ll never be or replace your (mom/dad), but you do have people that care for you in your life! Well, I don’t know anyone else’s true feelings, but I know mine. You….mean so much to me. I can’t stand you being so….alone”
They walked over to him, cupping his cheek as tears flowed from his eyes at their sweet, encouraging words. “Arven…” (Y/n) said,”I love you. Always will. Plus, you can’t get rid of me. Mabosstiff will just team up with me again.”
Arven let out a chuckle, before hugging them so hard they both fell onto the aged mattress.
“A-Arven!!” (Y/n) laughed, crawling out from underneath him. They then rested their head upon his fluffy, yellow vest.
“I love you too (Y/n)….please know I wasn’t abandoning you-“
“Don’t apologize.” They said, holding him tighter to hear his increased heartbeat,”You lost a parent for Arceus’s sake! I was worried about you, not mad Arvy.”
He sniffled,”Thank you” He said quietly,”Thank you for always being there for me….no one else is-“
Mabosstiff let out a rebuttal, but in the form of an angry bark.
“-besides you and Mabosstiff” Arven finished, laughing his tears away as Mabosstiff tried to smush the both of them on the mattress.
“Just rest” (Y/n) told him,”We’ll worry about Clavell and Nemona chewing our asses out for attendance later”
He gave them a kiss on the forehead, and the three of them got some well deserved rest
Word Count: 898
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spaceagebachelormann · 2 years ago
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im back hehehehehe could i get some headcanons of like. dating mischa. or ricky- either one- i <3 them sm
dating mischa and ricky
pairings: ricky potts x gn reader, mischa bachinski x gn reader
warnings: mentions of the rollercoaster disaster
a/n: i’ll give you both because ily liz <3
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Ricky Potts
okay so
UHHHH
he’s really sweet!!
100% randomly comes to your house and signs something like “wanna go stargazing”
you WILL say yes.
when you’re stargazing he doesn’t actually look at the other stars, because his star is beside him <3
you best believe his cats love you
they love you more than they love him
sometimes they just walk straight past him to get to you <3
i like to think he has a thing for noses, so when he’s close enough he’ll just lean in and kiss it so gently <33 or poke it
i feel like he gets tired really easily and stays up until like 3am
and because he loves you and he feels comfortable with you he leans his head on your shoulder and falls asleep!!
during the cyclone disaster, my man was holding your hand so hard and trying to keep you (and himself) from falling out of the cart
long story short it didn’t work and you fell together
back to the sweet stuff!!
you know all of the zolar lore and characters and give him stickers for his crutches
between classes he runs (runs??? he gets to you as quickly as he can with his crutches) and hugs you so tight
calls you the most random things ever
turkey-chicken-leg, monkey-love-drop (ofc <3)
im sorry but he would have called you kitten at one point. joke or not he 100% would have once. someone had to say it
i do think he’d call you love though
he loves you!! so much!!
penny aka his bestie has had to listen to him talk about you for hours
he’s very clingy!! constantly touching you in some way or is always near you
lightly hits you with his crutches when you say something outta pocket or questionable
your parent(s) LOVE him
he has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality and your parent(s) can tell this!! they know hed do anything for you and it’s why they love him!!
omg binge watching movies that take place in space with him <3
he gets so absorbed into the plots and points out every little thing
he’s so cute
will CRY (happily ofc) if you learn sign language for him
oh!! you’d also have a way to communicate from across the room if you can’t speak directly
like you’ll be visibly uncomfortable or tense and he’ll give you a concerned look or something to ask if he needs to come over there
i think he would be really protective, glaring at anyone who makes you uncomfortable and sometimes protectively putting a crutch or arm in front of you
incorrect quote!!:
Ricky: you want some leftovers?
Y/N: what are leftovers
Ricky: you’ve never had leftovers?
Y/N: no, im not a quitter
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Mischa Bachinski
dear lord
the most overprotective soul ever
has body slammed ocean for looking at you weirdly…
will fight someone for you
just ask
also has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality but it’s more aggressive like “ANYTHING for you, love.”
oh he definitely uses you as an armrest
i like the idea of him and his s/o having a mean/nice dynamic
he’s mean to literally everyone except you
he’s also the type to put things on a shelf you can’t reach just so you have to ask him for help
sometimes he just picks you up in the middle of class and runs away while the teacher is screaming at you guys to come back
only listens to you
ocean: mischa no!! | mischa: mischa yes!! | y/n: mischa no | mischa: mischa no.
writes autotuned songs about you
okay but like imagine being his sweet sunshine s/o and one day someone pisses you off enough that you actually yell at them and he’s standing there with his jaw dropped and eyes widened
whispers over to noel “i love them.”
noel whispers back “i know.”
randomlt shows up at your house
if he can’t get in through the front door he scarily climbs through your window
SLEEPOVERS ARE A MUST!!
secretly the little spoon when you cuddle during sleepovers but don’t tell anyone
smiles into your neck, but pretends he doesn’t even though he knows you can feel it <3
it someone talks smack about you
well….
they mysteriously disappear that night
and when they come back they don’t even look in your direction again
he’s actually very sweet with you!!
holding your hand, cupping your face, whispering sweet little nothings in your ear <3
brings you alcohol on your birthday…
incorrect quote:
Mischa: *kicks the door down looking panicked*
Y/N: what did you do?
Mischa: nobody died
Y/N: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT???
237 notes · View notes
rainbow-okapi · 2 years ago
Text
Pokémon Scarlet/Violet headcannons w/MC who has Disabilities
Just me projecting, thought I’d share. Typed very hastily lol pls excuse the errors
Minor Game Spoilers | SFW
It’s is past my bedtime buuuuuuuut… Courtesy of the Arven Brainrot.
- Since Uva/Naranja Academy praises it’s diversity, I think to think they have decent accommodations for students
- There’s alternate routes around Mesagoza with accessible ramps and elevators. There’s no implied rules that students can’t ride a Pokémon up the main stairs of death to get to school either. (As someone with Cerebral Palsy, those stairs… they scare me. I would trip and die instantly if the embarrassment didn’t get me first)
- People don’t really ‘talk’ about the elevators and ramps tho so the faculty usually tell the students when they enroll
- Professors are mindful of students who need to keep snacks on them and will let most Pokémon sit with their trainers during classes for anxiety or other medical reasons
- Ya know the whole extra time on tests and all that. Extra time to get between classes for students with mobility issues.
- Ms. Dendra is a wonderful Battle Studies teacher and I liked to think she also does General PE classes on the side. You think she’s just gonna let children roam around without helping build up a bit of strength for all those hills and mountains they gotta climb??? No, she’s gonna make you run laps.
- She’ll hella nice about it tho. Just send her an email or talk to her before classes and she’ll hit you up with modified workouts so you can still participate with the class on your own preferred level.
- When Director Clavell showed up at the MC’s house at the start of the game and the mom was talking with him, I like to think he was making sure the student file was accurate
- Just so he had all the information to make sure the student would have all the support they needed during their time there at the academy since the MC was staying in the dorms
MOVING ON! Crater Squad GO
- I used to wear Ankle-Foot Orhtotics and had to use a walker for a bit soooo
Nemona:
- Nemona doesn’t even bat an eye at whatever aids you have
- Doesn’t outright ask questions but pays attention if you ever talk about it
- It helps open her world view
- If anything, if you customized them to feel more stylish/comfortable, she’d think it was hella neat! Would probably give you stickers and stuff to add to them
- She’ll probably gift you some of those cool compression sleeves like the one that she wears. Gets excited about what colors you might want and gets very happy if you wear the same color as hers.
- This girl looked at you and adopted you as her freshman rival in a heartbeat
- If anyone messes with you or starts rumors she is on. Their. Asses.
- Immediately reported to the nearest faculty member and will write a full report if the issue persists.
- She knows you can handle yourself though. Even if she worries, she tries not to hover. Will check in with you often tho
- If you have an odd gate (walking pattern) she might forget sometimes when she sees you and freak out that you’re limping from a Pokémon injury or something. A very brief second of panic.
- Catches herself wondering if a task might be too hard for you only to be proven wrong seconds later
- She’s just thinks you’re the coolest
- Doesn’t mind at all if you need to sit down for a bit after battling or on the treasure hunt
- She forgets that some people need breaks often and you asking for one reminds her to take a breather herself
- She has the stamina to battle for two whole hours but even then, she will not get between you and a snack
- Love love Loves how down to earth and practical you are about certain things but you still became a Champion despite everything. She won’t tell you, but the whole Pokémon League is impressed by you
- You’re a beacon of strength to her, even on your bad pain days if you get them
Penny:
- Penny overlaps a bit with Nemona
- Doesn’t bat an eye but will passively look up information
- Prefers to ask you questions tho, sometimes in person, usually over txt
- I like that her room is so dim, if a bit cluttered
- If you chill there for a bit, you will always have at least one Veevee in your lap or next to you
- Penny thinks it’s the cutest and she has a photo of you in a complete pile of Veevee’s
- You fell asleep on her bed and they all just collectively decided to pile on top of you. It was very cozy.
- Penny probably has a weighted blanket or a plush she’ll let you use
- She might even put on some Lo-Fi music if you asked her to, or she’ll play heavy electronic music at a low volume
- She just likes your company, she doesn’t feel pressured around you and she hopes you feel comfortable around her as well
- Worries more vocally than Nemona, and will find herself saying “that seems like a bit much”
- *catches you doing the very thing out of spite*
- “tHAT WASN’T A CHALLENGE?! STOP BEFORE YOU HURT YOURSELF?!?”
- Always has a snack on her and will share. Only with you tho
Arven ooooh Arven Big Brother Arven:
- Even if he was defensive to you at first, he immediately had a ping of concern when he met you
- Got so worried when you went to take down titans, especially the Open Sky Titan
- Openly asks questions about your disability and DIGS into research about it in his own time
- He wants to know everything and anything he can help with
- You’re convinced that some of that nurturing caregiving he gave to Mabostiff bled over to how he is with you
- Got genuinely curious if the Herba Mystica actually helped you (Especially the Salty Herba Mystica in my case lol)
- He’s always racing to your side to check on you when you actually fight the titans
- Always checks in when walking anywhere
- If the group wants to travel someplace he’s always the first to turn to you and ask if you’re up for it
- Will totally carry you if you just asked. If he’s not wearing his big hiking bag, he will give a piggyback ride. Even in between classes.
- Always reaching out a hand to steady you. Will let you hold onto him for support down/up stairs or slopes
- Cuddles. He can hardly initiate them at first but will never complain if you happen to lean on his shoulder or flop into his lap.
- The off-time he does initiate the cuddles at first, it’s usually to make you stop pushing yourself so hard.
- Oh, look at that, you’re in his lap now… guess you can’t go training like your body is telling you Not To Do But You Decided To Anyway.
- Gets pretty comfortable with Cuddles with you quickly tho. Once he’s gotten off the ‘Oh, Affection for once in my life’ shock
- I imagine he likes to hold hands too.
- He gives you little hand massages if you get fatigue from throwing pokeballs or writing too many notes. He doesn’t realize he does it it sometimes, it just happens if he’s holding your hand at the time.
- Memorizes your favorite comfort foods to make when everything gets too much. Uses your favorite color bowls/plates and everything. It’s perfect.
- Mabostiff declares himself your personal heater. No one has the heart to tell him he’s not quite a lap dog anymore.
Misc. Group ideas:
- all of them subconsciously bracket around you. Arven and Penny are always glaring at anyone who gives you looks
- Nemona also likes to hold hands. She’s always looking for an excuse to pull you around.
- Arven has to tell her to slow down often
- Penny may or may not have gushed to Team Star about you and you are on all of their ‘protect at all costs’ list
- Even if you did wipe the floor with them
- If the group stops by a store but you want to sit outside and wait, Penny will always sit with you to keep you company. She and Arven send each other memes and she’ll show them to you.
- Nemona is the queen of ‘I saw this thing and it reminded me of you’
- Tbh, that happens so often with everyone tho
- If it’s raining and it makes your bones ache and your chronic pain worse, the group will be there at your dorm. They refuse. Absolutely refuse to let you suffer alone.
- You cannot stop them, they just all collectively bee-line straight to you eventually.
- *rain starts pouring down*
- Arven: huh, guess we’re having dinner at my place tonight…
- Group cuddles after dinner. Cuddles and a TV marathon with Pokémon. It’s bliss
186 notes · View notes
oldestenemy · 5 months ago
Text
“What is that?”
“Gurtok Demon, for the monstrodome.” Suzie Gryphonbane is laying out glowing shards of animus, each faintly reflecting a piece of the monster contained within. “Regina and I are testing out building our own dungeons and the Gurtoks offer a decent challenge for most of us. Marla has been bringing me animus from the two that hole up in the Great Spyre elevators.”
“Right.”
After another few moments of silence, Suzie sighs and sets down the piece she’d been trying to align. “Did you need something, Malorn? This isn’t really have a chat kind of work.” There isn’t any hostility in her tone, maybe a little weariness, she knows what he’s going to ask. “We can both stop dancing around the subject. I don’t know where Duncan went. He hasn’t been back since I let you and the new life kid know where he was staying.”
Malorn looks a little sheepish at those words. Suzie knows he hasn’t been trying to annoy her, but whatever guilt he’s harboring about Duncan’s actions has resulted in their every interaction being frustratingly vague. “Why did you tell us?”
“Because I wasn’t getting anywhere and I knew a heads up that Ambrose was looking for him properly would come better from you or even the wizard than a member of the city guard.” she says, crossing her arms and adding “I don’t know what happened after Darkmoor, I don’t know why he went missing the first time, but if you know anything about where he’s gone now I would appreciate being let in on it.”
Duncan had slept for two and a half days when he’d finally passed out. After which he’d been just as non-communicative as before. Though admittedly a little less prickly, and a little more willing to ask about what everyone else was doing. So when Mellori had come asking about him—
“I told them you were here.” Suzie braces for the reaction to the words, but the explosion she’s expecting—doesn’t come.
Duncan just looks like he’s considering something. Weighing options. “You said it was a new student, right?”
“The wizard brought her back from Polaris. Her name is Mellori.”
“Then it’s probably the wizard who will come looking.”
“You don’t sound as angry about that as I’d have thought.” Suzie pauses, “Are you…going to tell me what happened?”
“We dueled, they won, they told me to hide.” It’s sharp and quick, like he’s hoping to move beyond them without any more comment.
—a part of her regrets not pushing him further. But she’s not an idiot, and she’d known Duncan her whole life. It wouldn’t have gotten her anything more. So as Malorn explains what little he knows beyond that, it just adds more disconnected puzzle pieces to the pile. Some kind of doomsday group, unstable and forbidden kinds of magic, connections tying all the way back to Malistaire’s theft of the Eye of History.
“He wouldn’t have joined up with a group like that—not if they were the ones pointing Malistaire down the path he took…here.” Suzie believes the words as she says them, Duncan idolized Malistaire, she’d seen firsthand how it had broken him to find out what his old professor had turned to in grief. Had fought back against the truth for so much longer than anyone else. Desperate to find the Professor Drake he was familiar with amidst horror stories of titans and tides of undead.
“I don’t think he knew.” Malorn replies “The wizard and I found Malistaire’s journal, Duncan never got his hands on it. Whoever he was learning this stuff from—whoever was guiding him—I can’t see him staying if he’d known.”
Suzie has to stifle a laugh. Inappropriate timing, but she can’t help the affirmation that—yes—Duncan was indeed wrapped up in some flavor of mess that read exactly like what the wizard ran around doing. That it had led him right into the wrong side of a battle with them. That it seemed not to be the first time either. “So…” she begins, knowing this is likely her only course for more information. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard from the wizard lately either?”
“No. They were supposed to keep in touch with me, Penny too—but…”
The rest hangs unsaid.
But you know how it is.
You know how they are.
How they have to be.
“I guess it’s just a waiting game then.” That’s fine. Suzie can do waiting. She’s got plenty to occupy her time here. “The Spiral hasn’t dissolved so we have to assume they’re doing what needs doing—and that they’ll both come back when they’re ready.”
~*~
The heat of Dragonspyre was always a little overwhelming at first. The wizard had tried to warn Dyvim—though he’d cited the Khonda Desert as a testament to his resilience—the sulpherous air and heaviness from the lava fumes were a far cry from the dry arid heat he had experienced before.
“You’re sure it’s alright for you to be away this long?” they ask again, as they had done before leaving the Myth tower.
“Things have settled more since your last visit, I promise I can spare an afternoon. Though I’m beginning to understand your warnings about the heat—is the air here always so foul?”
The wizard smiles, it’s small and soft, but it’s there. Pulling at their face and reminding them it’s an expression they are in fact still capable of. “It’s better on the academy grounds, you can actually see the sky there instead of the ash cloud. There’s a portal just downstairs, so you won’t have to endure it long.”
Dragonspyre has never felt lighter to them.
For the first time it is neither an invitation to imminent violence, nor a bitter reminder of the damage they’ve had to cause. The wizard steps out of the Academy teleporter with Dyvim beside them, sees the grounds dotted with their old classmates, and is struck by such a wave of fondness that it brings their pace to a halt.
“Spellbinder?”
“I’m alright—I just—” just what?
They spent so many years hating the very idea of this place. Even after Darkmoor it was still a reminder of the mistakes they’d made. The celestial calendar whispering doom. The look on Duncan’s face when they’d threatened to fight their way past him. And granted—things with Duncan are not mended. But they are no longer shattered or sharp.
There is a future here.
“—it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to look at this place and not feel…haunted by it.”
Something is healing.
Slowly. So much more slowly than they would like.
But healing nonetheless.
Read the whole series here <3
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derpinathebrave · 2 years ago
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Finders Keepers - IceMav SpyAu Part 5 - Caring
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READ ON AO3
These chapters come out faster on AO3 just as an FYI. This took me a week to put up here. I'm sorry guys formatting a tumblr post is such a pain. Check the Masterpost pinned on my blog to read the other chapters too! (and other fics tbh)
SUMMARY: “Don’t get attached, Mitchell,” Ice said, mumbling soft enough that the kid wouldn’t hear but the words were piped through the earpiece to Mav.
Maverick gave him a look of mild disinterest before returning his attention to the kid. Just because Ice was a cold-hearted bastard, didn’t mean Maverick had to be. There was nothing wrong with being kind to a child that they had rescued from a house of traffickers. It wasn’t like he was about to adopt it…
TAGS: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky/Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, OC Child Character, Ron “Slider” Kerner, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Bill “Cougar” Cortell, Mike “Viper” Metcalf, Rick “Jester” Heatherly, Charlotte “Charlie” Blackwood, Penny Benjamin, Rick “Hollywood Neven, Leonard "Wolfman” Wolfe, Fluff, Family Fluff, Literally found family, MavDad, IcePops, SpyAU, Very Mild Violence, Spycraft innacuracies, Mild mentions of human trafficking, Selective Mutism, No Beta we die like goose.
WORDS: 8,574
PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5
Large, brown eyes were inches from his own. Ice startled, still half-asleep and giving a sharp exhale. He blinked, groaning with lingering sleep and scowling at Emma. She was smirking. 
“Good morning,” he said through another exhale. “Can I help you?”
“No,” she said. 
“Is there a reason you woke me?” He grumbled and rubbed his eyes with one hand.
“No.” She snickered. 
Ice hummed and rolled onto his back. After a moment he dragged Emma over with him, trapping her in his arms as she wriggled and laughed.
“Then why did you wake me?” Ice said, mock-irritation in his tone. He poked at her ribs, making her squirm and squeak. 
“I didn’t,” she protested through her laughter. 
“You did.” Ice chuckled. “If you didn’t wake me, why am I awake?”
He softened his arms, giving her space to get away if she chose to.
“You just woke up,” she said, the giggles still rolling through her.
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
She giggled again, snuggling into a comfortable place on his chest. Her small hands clutched at his top and she gave a heavy sigh. 
“You OK?” Ice asked, trying to smooth her wild hair out of his nose.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” she whispered. 
Ice stilled, his breath escaping in a rush. He nodded slowly before giving her a tight squeeze. 
“I didn’t think I would either,” he admitted. “But Mav asked me to stay last night. And when I thought about leaving you two...” Ice heaved a sigh, lifting her as his chest rose and fell. For anyone else, Ice wasn’t sure he would have been able to get the words out. “I don’t wanna leave,” he said softly.
She nodded against him.
“If you two wake me up every morning I might leave,” Mav’s voice grumbled from the other side of the mattress. He was rolled away from them and half sprawled on his chest. 
Emma made a noise of distress, thrashing to look at Mav. 
Ice had been lucky for days. His luck had run out. Her bony little knee landed directly between his legs, pain surging through his stomach as he gave a strangled noise. 
“Fuck.” He restrained the urge to flip her off him altogether. 
Mav was there in seconds, looking alert and ready for anything. He pulled Emma away from Ice easily.
As Ice’s vision cleared a little, he found Mav was working hard to stifle laughter. Ice let out his own weak laugh around the rolling nausea-pain. Maverick’s hair was standing straight up, defying gravity, but only on one half of his head. 
“You alright?” Mav asked, voice choked with laughter. 
“Peachy,” Ice sighed. He looked at Emma. 
Her eyes were wide with fear and guilt.
“You’re alright,” Ice said. “I know it was an accident.”
Her expression didn’t shift. Ice reached out and patted her hand. 
“Did you get a fright, Em?” Mav asked, encircling her with his arms. 
She nodded. Her eyes shifted from Ice to look up at Mav. They filled with tears. 
“Woh,” Mav pulled her into his chest. “It’s OK. You’re OK.”
She gave a hiccoughing sob, clinging to Mav tightly.
A heavy air settled into the room. Ice’s heart weighed down against his stomach. This was how it would be for a while. The bright, fun energy of their morning soured in an instant. He hated that this was her life. She deserved so much more.
“D—“ The sound snuck out between sobs. 
Mav stilled, turning his head to hear her better. 
“Don’t leave,” she sobbed against him. 
“Oh, fuck,” Mav’s face scrunched tight. “Fuck, Emma, I’m so sorry. I’m not leaving. That was a stupid joke.”
Ice sighed. He added to a running list in his mind of what had the potential to set Emma off. So far it consisted of crowds, closets, and the mention of leaving. 
She was quicker to calm this time. The sobs fading after only ten minutes. Maverick held her the entire time, mumbling apologies and reassurances. The three of them were suspended in silence, sadness hanging over all of them. Ice sat up with a sigh. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the back of the head. After a moment, he turned and took a kiss from Mav’s distracted lips too. 
It startled a laugh out of Mav, his smile returning at last. Ice smiled back and took another kiss. 
“I have to get ready for work,” he said. 
When he shifted away, he found Emma was watching with wide eyes again. There was still some fear swimming beneath the surface but he could see wonder creeping in. He gave her a wink. 
Ice dragged himself out of bed, incredibly reluctant to go to work. He stretched, feeling the other two watching him. 
“What?” He said with a grin. “Someone in this family has to make money.” 
They made matching strangled noises at his words. Ice simply smiled at them and headed for the door. Their tender expressions of hope painted into his heart.
Pain snapped against his skin. Mav blinked a little as he released the pinching hold he had on his own inner arm. He couldn’t quite believe it was real yet. Ice had stayed. Ice had said wonderful, loving things to him. Ice, no, Tom. Tom had laughed and played with Emma in bed before getting up, using the F-word and then going to make him coffee. 
He pinched his arm again. 
Emma was sitting at the bench eating cereal and watching as Tom downed the last of his coffee. Pete was leaning across from her, doing the exact same thing. 
Ice looked at them both, laughing a little and setting his coffee mug down. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” he huffed. “You’re making me feel like the bad guy.”
Mav and Emma exchanged the pleading look they were wearing before turning it back on Ice. 
“I have to go to work.” Ice laughed again. He dragged Mav into his arms and held him tight. “I’ll come back this evening.” He turned to look at Emma and then the mess of Stuff in the living room. “Besides, you two have plenty to do here today.”
“Yeah, but you could help,” Mav said, leaning back a little but not far enough to break Ice’s hold. 
“Clean up your own mess, Mitchell,” Ice teased, eyes dancing. 
Mav felt his entire face heat and redden, this might take a little getting used to. Not only the idea that Tom was so eager to touch him and hold him, but honestly, that anyone was. Pete was beginning to realise he was touch starved. It was so natural to him to hold Emma in comfort, now he understood why. He craved it just as much as he expected she did. 
Rather than fight against the current of warm affection and dig up a sassy reply; Pete leaned up and stole a kiss. Ice hummed, taking another for himself and then releasing Mav. 
He moved around the bench, kissed Emma’s hair and gave her a little squeeze. 
Emma immediately abandoned her cereal to stand on the stool and wrap her arms around Ice. He chuckled and lifted her into his arms. Mav watched closely. Yeah, they couldn’t get enough of Tom holding them. 
“I’ll see you later, Squeak. I promise,” he said. 
She looked into his eyes for a long moment. “OK.”
“Have a fun day with Mav,” Ice beamed at her. “Don’t let him burn the house down.”
“Hey!” Mav protested. 
They laughed at him and Pete let his grin break through as well. 
“OK. I’m going now,” Tom placed her back on the stool, kissing her head again. He crossed to Mav, kissed him as well and headed for the front door. 
The pair of them sighed as the door snapped closed. 
Mav sipped his coffee and skirted around the bench to lean against Emma a little. “Right,” he said, “let’s get this place all cleaned up for you to live here. OK?”
A small, reluctant smile curled at her lips. 
It was a strange drive to work for Ice. For one, it took longer than he expected. Mav lived out in suburbia, while Ice’s loft was tucked away on the edge of the CBD. The longer drive gave him more time to think about everything. 
And he tried to think about everything. He did. He would start with a breakdown of how he ended up there and what he was doing, but it devolved into just picturing Mav and Emma giving him pleading looks to stay. It seemed to replay the adorable way they had both gone blank when he called them a family. He couldn’t stop himself from reveling in the way Emma had giggled like a real kid when he tickled her. 
By the time he made it to work, his cheeks were sore from smiling but he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t until he was in the elevator that Ice managed to get his face under control. He might have had the best twelve hours ever, but that didn’t mean he could undermine his Iceman persona. He had a reputation to uphold. 
A persona that lasted the distance it took him to walk from the elevator to his shared office. Once the door was closed again, Goose and Slider took one look and gave him identical smug grins of satisfaction. Ice’s blank expression lasted about three seconds before he gave them an equally smug smile in reply. 
Slider laughed. He pulled a pack down from the racks and crossed the room to Ice.
“We have a surveillance detail today,” Sli said, passing the pack to Ice and grabbing an empty one. “Chipper and Sundown will relieve us after lunch.”
Ice’s good mood took a nosedive. 
Slider gave another laugh and dragged him back out of the office. After a short struggle, Ice doubled back and poked his head in through the door. 
“Goose,” he said. 
Goose turned, eyebrows up in a question.
“You got time later to talk about that other job?” 
The hacker’s face turned shrewd and he gave a nod. “Sure. Let me know when, yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“Good hunting,” Goose said before turning back to his computers. 
“Hack the planet.” Ice snapped the office door shut, grinning at the muffled groan from Goose. 
After a quick stop in the cafeteria to get a supply of snacks and water, Ice and Slider headed out to their assignment. Ice drove while Slider read the job report. They were off to watch another gang house, another connection to the trafficking ring they had been working against. Once enough information had been gathered on the numbers of members and their comings and goings, another team would be tasked to head in and clear it out. 
Surveillance was, in Ice’s professional and personal opinion, one of the worst jobs. Sitting in a hot car, playfully arguing with Slider over anything they could think of to pass the time, and staring at a building in the middle distance. Ice would rather have helped Mav and Emma clear out the Stuff in the living room. This was probably why they didn’t get orders until they were already clocked in for work. 
He pulled up to the curb and sighed. This was somehow worse and better than usual. The house was on the corner of an intersection. Ice and Slider were parked out the front of a sad looking strip mall, two of five spaces empty and papered over with newspapers. The other three were a bodega, a dingy looking real estate office and a massage parlour with blacked out windows. Across from the strip mall was a diner, it was markedly less dingy and seemed to be turning a relatively good trade. 
“I think we should move down to the next street,” Slider said, eyes narrowed behind his dark glasses. “It’s too conspicuous to be sitting in a car outside a diner.”
Ice nodded, he looked at the strip mall for another moment. Something was tickling his intuition. 
“Sli,” he said slowly, “what’s your read on that?” 
He tilted his head toward the real estate office. Slider turned. A fresh frown appeared on his face as he looked from one end to the other. 
“Mm.” It was not a positive noise. “Let’s get into position and we can check it out later.”
Ice gave a nod.
With the pair of them dressed for the day, Mav and Emma sat down in the lounge and started to sort through the piles of Stuff. She was enthusiastic, hunting through the bags and boxes and bringing what she deemed most interesting to Mav first. 
Beyond the carburettor kit, she found a set of attachments for his pneumatic wrench, a missing set of socket wrenches he had since replaced and a book of paint samples for the Valiant. 
“You into cars, kiddo?” Mav asked as she pulled over the bag of old car magazines.
She gave him a shrug but her face was burning with interest. 
“No one ever teach you this stuff?” He guessed and leafed through the magazine on top. He stopped on a page with a shining blue Plymouth Valiant. “This is what is in the garage.” He showed her. 
She leaned over his shoulder, standing behind him and resting most of her weight on his shoulders. 
“You can help me fix it, if you want,” Mav said, turning to smile up at her. “I think you’ll help me stay on track.”
She gave a cheeky grin. 
“But first, we gotta finish all this. So let’s take the air gun stuff, the carb kit and the socket set to the garage. You can have the magazines if you want ‘em.”
His heart swelled as she gave him a tight hug and grabbed the bag of magazines from his lap. They were spirited away to her room without a second glance. Mav took the other things into the garage, a slight spring in his step. 
Their day passed easily. As they sorted through stuff, Emma eventually losing interest and pulling out a magazine to browse on a nearby armchair, Mav nattered away at her. He told her the story of most of the things he unearthed. He told her the most child-friendly stories he could about working with Ice. 
He didn’t mention her parents again. Maverick knew that the conversation had to happen. It would be the hardest conversation of both their lives when it did. So he delayed. 
He told himself that Emma would do better if Ice was there when he broke the news. He told himself that dead was dead and it didn’t matter when she found out. He told himself that the stupid bastards had given her up anyway and their memory deserved no honour. 
They were all smoke-screens for his real reason though. He didn’t want to. He wanted her to have one day of being happy and just a kid. He wanted to pretend that he was her dad and nothing bad had ever happened to either of them. 
If only.
“I fucking hate surveillance,” Slider sighed, taking a long drink from a water bottle. They had been there for two hours, watching absolutely nothing happen.
“I know.” Ice shot him a look of exasperated affection. “I know because you tell me every time we do this.”
“I’m just keeping you informed, Ice,” Slider said with a grin. “How was the kid last night? She deal with you leaving OK?”
Ice gave a reflexive sniff and focused extra hard on watching the house, willing someone to come or go so he could change the subject. Slider’s eyes burned into the side of his head. 
“What is that?” Slider said, voice almost cautious. “Why are you avoiding answering me?”
It wasn’t that Ice didn’t want to tell Slider what had happened, he just wasn’t sure he was ready for the reaction it was going to elicit. He rubbed at the back of his neck, clearing his throat.
“No,” Slider gave a dark chuckle. “Oh, you stayed didn’t you? You’re completely gone for this kid too, aren’t you?”
“Well,” Ice cracked a smile. “You met her. She’s cute.”
“Yeah, she’s cute I guess.” He gave a shrug. “How are you going with having to see Maverick all the time?”
Ice jutted his chin out, lips pushing out as he fought against a smile. He lost, giving a wide grin and turning to see Slider’s reaction. 
“Damn,” Slider huffed, somewhat amused but with a note of irritation. “I bet Goose it would take longer than that.”
“What?” He frowned.
“Wait, did you kiss him?” Slider clarified. 
Ice’s grin returned full force.
“Shit,” Slider laughed. “I mean, good for you. But you cost me a twenty.”
“Why the fuck are you two betting on my love life?” Ice shook his head and returned to watching the house. 
“Because we’ve been watching the two of you circle each other for, oh, about eighteen months now.” Slider shifted in his seat and took another long drink. “Goose said it would be within the week. I said you’re both so fuckin stupid it would still take at least two.”
Ice opened his mouth to give an argument but found he didn’t have one. He snapped his jaw shut once more. Slider gave a low laugh. 
“I’m going to head back up to that real estate place,” Ice changed the subject quickly. “You good here?”
Slider laughed harder. “Sure, man, I’m good.”
Ice climbed out of the car, gave Slider the finger, and headed off back up the street toward the strip mall.
He tried to prod the small ember of irritation into an actual emotion but it didn’t work. Sure, it was annoying that his best friend had bet he would be too stupid to kiss his co-worker, but kissing said co-worker really made up for that. The same irrepressible happiness welled up inside him once more. 
The real estate office was even more rundown now that Ice was close to it. He wandered past the windows, pretending to stop and look at their listings. More and more ticks of suspicion fired off in his brain. 
The listings were all faded, as though they hadn’t been shifted from the window in weeks. There was a thick coat of dust on the fake plant he could see by the front desk. The receptionist watched him, her head down but eyes flicking up to him as though she were trying to hide it. 
Ice sauntered on by, the picture of someone that hadn’t seen anything that caught his eye in the window and was merely a bored shopper. He headed for the bodega without looking back. It was mostly just to cover his behaviour but as Ice stepped into the store, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. 
There was a display of stuffed animals by the counter. Near the top, about the size of a toddler, was a pink and blue monkey. He had it in his hands and at the register before he could stop himself. With that and a pack of gum, he headed back down to the car and Slider.
Mav and Emma finished sorting through the Stuff shortly after lunch. There was a new pile of things in the garage to be dropped off a charity shop. Maverick planned to con Ice into doing it for him. What he really wanted to do was convince Ice to let him drive his i30 but he also tried to be a little realistic in life. 
With that done, Mav cleaned out the display cabinet in the dining room. Emma sat at the table working away at one of her puzzle books as he showed her each trinket and explained them. She watched with fascination, handling each thing he passed her with reverence and care. 
“You know, Em,” Mav said after he finished placing the vintage 303 rifle back on the bottom shelf having detached the bayonet once more. “I was thinking about your room.”
She looked at him with her “I’m listening” face. 
“We should paint it, don’t you think?” Mav leaned onto the back of a chair and looked down at her. “I always wanted to be able to paint my room. But I never had a room that was mine. So let’s paint yours.”
“Why?” She said, her head tilted a little and the marker in her hand poised above the page. 
“Why…” Mav replayed his own words back hunting for where she had got hung up. “Why didn’t I have a room that was mine?” He tested.
She gave a sharp nod. 
Shit. Mav licked his lips and gave a short sigh. He walked right into that one. 
Maverick pulled the chair he was leaning on out from the table and sat down. Emma was watching him warily. He set his elbows on the table and shifted toward her a little.
“When I was 3, my dad died,” Mav started. 
Her face pinched. He took her hand in his. 
“It’s OK. I’m OK, honey.” 
Emma’s expression didn’t change. Mav forged on, knowing she wanted to hear it. He would have in her position. 
“He flew planes for the Navy. He died fighting in a stupid war. Not long after that, maybe a year, my mum died too.” Pete braced himself, watching as Emma’s eyes grew wet but tears didn’t fall. “I didn’t have anyone else that could take care of me. So I was put into foster care.”
She stood and rounded the table, climbing into his lap and holding him tight around the middle. It was a sad sweetness. Mav wrapped his arms around her and set his chin on her hair. 
“I grew up in things called group homes, which a lot of people call orphanages,” he continued softly. “I shared a room my whole life. And I didn’t ever really have somewhere that was just for me.”
They sat in silence for a while. Old memories were buzzing around Mav’s head like beetles, noisy but too quick to catch. 
“It’s important to me that you have somewhere that is just yours,” he said. “I want you to have somewhere that you belong.”
“I belong with you,” Emma said, voice thick. 
“You do, Em.” Mav kissed her head. “You always will, OK?”
The afternoon ticked by as they sat together. Mav felt something between them had shifted. There was now a tether between their hearts. No matter what happened, they would always have this. It was a heady thing, so be so firmly rooted with another soul after a lifetime spent adrift. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but they didn’t fall. He simply sat and held her, and she held him. 
All the snacks were gone. They were on their last bottle of water. The heat of the day had passed over to their relief. Slider was taking a short nap in his seat, his bulky frame scrunched up on the reclined car seat as best he could. 
Ice watched. 
It was exhausting to sit and do nothing but concentrate on all the nothing happening. If he could have passed the time with something other than staring at a house no one had gone in or out of all day, he wouldn’t feel so tired. Forcing his brain to carry on beyond the initial “there’s nothing there” message it sent him was tough. 
The monkey toy sat on the backseat, watching with him. Ice had gone through a roller-coaster of emotions over it. He loved it, Emma needed a stuffed toy. He thought it was the stupidest thing he had ever done, she was ten what if she hated it? He decided it was the thought that counted and he couldn’t imagine her being ungrateful. He wondered if it was too much or too soon. He wondered if her parents had ever done something like that for her. 
Ice sighed. He knew the address of her old house. He had memorised it instantly. He doubted he would ever forget it. It was in a poor neighbourhood, in the rough part to boot. He had been through there a few months ago, near the beginning of this trafficking case. An excellently horrible idea struck him. 
Slider’s phone rang, startling him into movement. Ice snorted a laugh as Slider’s knees crashed into the dashboard. He grumbled and pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Hello?” He answered, still frowning. “You’re a real prick, Chip.”
Ice laughed again, his eyes ranged up and down the street until he found the other pair in their Agency car. Sundown gave him a friendly wave and Ice raised a hand in greeting back. He started the car as Slider debriefed Chipper over the phone. They were finished for the day. 
Back at the Agency they debriefed quickly. Ice hammered out his report, adding the suspicious real estate place with a request to have it further investigated in the future. Slider unpacked their bags and wrote his own report out, laboriously tapping the keys. 
Goose was long gone. They had no idea where he would be, the man ran his own hours a lot of the time. Ice stared at his empty desk and felt a pang of jealousy. Goose often ducked out to watch one of Bradley’s baseball games or some event his school was putting on. 
One day soon they would have to discuss school with Emma. They would have to find a place that was both secure and friendly. What grade was a 10 year old in anyway? He was going to have to do some research. 
As he turned back to his own computer to do just that, his eyes slid over Mav’s empty desk. All his belongings were still there, he hadn’t cleaned it out or anything, but it felt weirdly empty. Ice realised there was a trickling sadness in his chest. It was going to be so weird not having him here all the time. 
“Finished!” Slider crowed and clapped his hands together. 
“Finally, I swear you’re the slowest typist I’ve ever met.” Ice stood. 
Slider gave him a perplexed frown. “Uh, touched that you stayed with me through that trial, Ice, but, what are you still here for?”
“We’re going to The Flats,” Ice said. He could have framed it as a favour. He could have made it a request. But this was Slider, they were old friends, old veterans. Slider had been a green beret. Ice had been a SEAL. They had met on a mission that technically never happened in a place that they definitely never were. 
It had been serendipity that Ice had been recruited into the Agency the same year that Slider was losing his passion for the special forces. They had met for a beer and catch up and on the following Monday morning Slider had been brought into the Agency alongside Ice. 
“The Flats?” Slider frowned harder as he stood. “That’s all the way across town.”
“I know, so we should get there just after dark,” Ice said, twirling his keys around his fingers. 
“You’re buying me dinner,” Slider said, voice resigned as he grabbed his own stuff and headed for the door. 
“Alright, but I’m not going to fuck you after.” Ice smirked as they headed into the hall.
“How about some inappropriate touching?” Slider carried on the joke. 
“Not even a goodnight kiss,” Ice said, barely holding down his laughter.
“Bit frigid, aren’t ya?”
“Well, they don’t call me Iceman for no reason.” 
After pouring over the book of car paint samples for hours, Emma had selected a metallic green the colour of new growth. Mav approved heartily, hoping they could get something at the hardware store that was metallic. 
Watching her decide had been very informative to Mav as well. He, himself, would have just flipped pages and picked whatever stood out to him the most, maybe flipping back and forth to be sure. Emma took a pad of paper and a pencil, meticulously writing out the name and page number of each of her potentials to be compared and culled down to a list of final colours. From there, he watched with amusement as she took the book into the bedroom and held each colour against each wall. He could see her brain working. He could suddenly understand how the codes he’d given her had pulled out of her shell so quickly. 
While Mav was making dinner, he realised they would have to find her something to stimulate that part of her. He wondered if there was a program he could put her into. He would have to do some research.
Emma gave a squawk as Mav stepped back onto her toes. She had been hovering around him in the kitchen, holding onto his shirt hem as he worked.
“Sorry, kiddo,” he sighed. “If you give me some space, I won’t step on you so much.” 
She gave him a powerful frown and held tighter. 
“Right.” He sighed again. “Well, let’s try this then.”
He took her hand and set it on his waist instead of clinging to his shirt. Her little fingers curled into him. 
“Now,” he leaned toward her and then away. “You can feel where I’m going and you can move with me.”
She smiled and stepped in to press herself against him, still holding his middle. Mav chuckled and pressed against her in reply. 
“Where’s Ice?” She asked, her voice small but clear enough. 
“I’m not sure, baby,” Mav sighed. He glanced at the clock. “He shouldn’t be too much longer. But.” Mav set his spatula down and crouched down to talk to her properly. “Ice isn’t very used to us yet, he might have forgotten to let us know he won’t be here for dinner. He might have gotten called away to do something for work. But, Em, that doesn’t mean he isn’t coming back. And it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be here, OK?”
Her expressions shifted like a kaleidoscope. Anger, fear, hope, fear, sadness, mistrust, fear, doubt, and finally sadness again. 
She opened her mouth to speak and nothing emerged. It only darkened her expression further. 
“Get your pad,” Mav encouraged her. “I’ll come with you if you lead me.”
The two of them crossed to the coffee table where she had left her notes on wall colours. Emma deigned to let them back in the kitchen as she scratched away at a code for Mav to decipher. He was serving them both when she tore the page off and held it out. 
It took him a little while. She had randomised a number square again. They sat side by side and Mav pulled the message out of the number-jumble. 
What if Ice doesn’t come home? What if I did something that made him not come back? I hurt him this morning. I woke him up. 
Mav abandoned his untouched food entirely in favour of pulling Emma into his lap and cuddling her. Clutching at his shirt, she hid her face in his chest beneath his chin. 
“Ice wasn’t upset with you about that stuff.” Mav rocked them gently side to side. “He’s not the type of person to be upset about stuff like that. He’ll come back. He promised, remember. Ice doesn’t break his promises.”
She shuddered a little but no sobs arrived.
“Besides,” Mav brightened a little. “Let’s call him and see where he is. He’s definitely finished at the Agency now.”
Mav juggled his hold on her until he could lift her and fetch his phone from the other end of the bench. When he sat back down, her face had appeared once more and she was looking with interest at his phone. 
Mav made a mental note to change his passcode more regularly these days.
The sun was well below the horizon by the time Ice and Slider rolled through The Flats. Even without the dark the place would have been ominous. There were no lawns only wild tangles of weeds. Almost every house had a boarded up window in the front. A cluster of young men in baggy clothing stood in a cluster out the front of an unpainted building, they watched in silence as they drove by. 
“I think I might keep the engine running while you go inside,” Slider observed in a mild voice. 
Ice turned into Emma’s old street, his teeth gritted as he made a noise in agreement. They had come in his i30N, and while he had shifted the settings to be quieter, it was still a sports car in a ghetto. He had no choice, this was impossible to justify to Viper and therefore Ice wasn’t going to be given an Agency car. 
“I won’t be too long,” Ice said. He parked a few houses down from the address and sat for a moment. Slider’s eyes were searching the dark as well. There were almost no streetlights left shining, only the residual light of the distant city and the moon let them see anything at all. 
“Have fun,” Slider grinned in a predatory way.
Ice leaned over and pulled his thigh holster, and the Walther he kept in it, out of the glovebox. With it strapped on, the weapon loaded and secured in an obvious place, Ice got of of the car. 
It was a warm evening, no hint of a breeze. Somewhere in the distance throbbing bass was playing. Ice walked to the house. It was in a state of mild dilapidation. Compared to the one three doors down that appeared to have had an entire wall removed and covered with plyboard, it wasn’t too bad. The porch was missing a step, there was a duct taped hole in the front window and the paint was probably as old as the house. Yellow police tape had been tacked onto the door but there was no sign of any actual law enforcement. 
He pushed in through the gate in the picket fence, nose twitching in irritation as it squealed loud in the dark. Resisting the innate urge to glance around and check behind him, Ice hopped up onto the porch. 
After checking the doorknob, he crouched down into the shadow and picked the lock. It was disturbingly slack. Ice suspected it had been picked more than once. Barely a breath later he was ducking under the police tape and stepping through the door. It was a mess but surprisingly homey. 
He was standing in a living room, a saggy moth-eaten couch taking most of the space. A blanket was rucked up on one end and a rickety-looking end table had an empty soda can and a battered romance novel on it. The television was so huge it probably cost more than the rest of the furniture in the room. Ice walked through the space slowly, eyes taking in the details. There was a painting of flowers in a vase over the couch but no family pictures to be seen. There was a grisly stain on the bare floorboards by the door to the kitchen. He stepped over it.
The kitchen was homey again, a vase in the middle of a small, battered table held the remnants of flowers. The cabinets were painted a bright colour that Ice suspected was a yellow or green. He stopped, staring at the scribbly drawings on the fridge. They had loved her once. They had loved her enough to take her creations and display them. His heart began a slow burning ache. It was so much easier when he thought they were neglectful. 
He moved through to the hall, stepping over another bloodstain as he exited the kitchen. The first room was obviously Emma’s parents’. He glanced in long enough to see an unmade bed, a mess of clothes spilling from a chest of drawers and a closet that had clearly been emptied by the detectives. 
The next room was the one he had been looking for. Emma’s space was smaller but neater too. A chest of drawers with scratch marks down one side was pushed against a wall. She had a stack of books on her bedside table, a slightly stained bedspread with stars and moons across it, and a threadbare rug on the floor. There was a low bookshelf with an assortment of picture books, toys and small novels. The walls were decorated with scribbles that progressed to actual drawing the higher they got. 
Ice bent to examine one a little closer, doing his best to ignore the embering pain in his chest. It was a fish, inked straight onto the drywall, simplistic but obvious. Beside it was a stick figure holding a rod with a line and hook. He crossed to the bedside table, picking up the pile of books. The Hobbit, Black Beauty, The Light in the Window; A Nellie Mason Mystery, and The Floating Admiral. Ice couldn’t help but smile. All of the books were battered, clearly either second-hand or well loved. He set them back down. There was no sign of any stuffed toy that could be loved. Ice even went so far as to draw the covers back on the bed and check beneath the pillow. 
The last thing he did was check the chest of drawers. He paused to grin at the collection of nicknacks she had scattered across the top; a broken seashell, a rock with googly eyes, what appeared to be a tarot card, a tin brooch with the setting missing. Her clothes had been folded away neatly, each in a little pile. Ice wasn’t too sure what he was looking for as he opened each level. He just felt like he needed to know where she came from, that she had existed outside of the depressing little room she had been shackled in. 
He pushed the drawers closed again and took another long look around the room. The drawings made him smile a little. That was a habit she would have to break, there was no way he and Mav were going to let her draw on the walls. 
Ice collected the stack of books from the bedside table and headed for the door. He was lost in the idea of bringing the books back to Emma when he stepped back into the living room and propped. 
Three of the men from the street corner appeared to be waiting for him, their expressions unfriendly. Ice stifled a sigh. The books were piled into his right hand, like a rookie. 
“Boys,” Ice said, tone mocking. 
“The fuck are you?” The one near the front, his hair as blond as Ice’s and likely more natural. 
“Just the local librarian.” Ice shifted his feet to a better position. 
“The fuck are you doing in here?” This one was short, broader and wearing a cap backward. Ice would have laughed at him except that three against one wasn’t a laughing matter. 
“Look, I’m not here for trouble. I came to collect something. I’m leaving,” Ice said, he gripped the stack of books tighter with his hand, gesturing with them at the men. His left, he dropped to his side. 
“You aren’t going anywhere.” They shifted in too-coordinated movements to block the door fully. “Either you’re part of Nile Street, and we’re going to fuck you up. Or your stealing from Oz’s house, and we’re going to fuck you up.”
Ice grimaced internally. He didn’t particularly feel like killing and maiming three men in an active crime scene. For one, he didn’t want to risk getting blood on Emma’s books. For another, they were pests, not really worth his time and skills. He took a slow breath in, tilted his head and looked from one to the other slowly. 
“Can I have a third option?” He asked. 
“What?”
Before they had the word out properly, Ice was already dashing back through the kitchen and down the hall. 
Shouts and curses followed him. 
He wasn’t above running away. Especially when the alternative was needless violence. 
There was no back door, Ice was already aware of that fact, but the window in Emma’s room was probably big enough for him to get through in one go. He shoved into the room. Scooping up the rock with googly eyes, he hurled it through the window. 
Ice dove on through after it. Luck was at least a little on his side as he managed to avoid cutting himself on the glass at all. 
Luck quickly abandoned him as a gunshot sounded.
He ducked reflexively.  With a muttered, “fucking hell” Ice bolted for the street. The low picket fence cut it off. 
Another gunshot sounded. Woodchips exploded off the corner of the house. 
Ice flinched away. The books slipped in his hand. He lost his footing a moment. He tucked the books against his chest, breathing hard in relief. Stumbling a few steps before recovering his pace again, Ice hurtled down across the front lawn. 
Ice vaulted the fence, whipping his legs up and over without losing stride.
A cluster of gangers were waiting by the gate. A more shouts went up. Ice was already sprinting down the dark road, lungs working hard. 
Gunfire followed him. 
“For fucks sake!” Ice cried, astounded at their enthusiasm to shoot him. 
His beloved car appeared, screeching out of the side-street Slider had found and pulling to a quick stop. Ice hopped the hood as the driver’s window rolled down. Slider let off a few warning shots with his pistol. 
Heart hammering and lungs burning, Ice threw himself into the passenger seat.  
“Go,” he said in the same instant that Slider stomped on the accelerator. 
The engine growled and they tore off down the street. A few more gunshots followed them. Ice’s wing mirror caught a lucky shot and shattered. 
“Son of a bitch,” he groaned between gasping breaths. “That’s going to be such a pain the ass to fix.”
Slider gave a laugh and shook his head. He looked at Ice and gave a deep frown. 
“You’re bleeding on the upholstry,” he said. 
“What?” Now that Slider had mentioned it, a stinging pain was throbbing in his head with each beat of his heart. Ice flipped the visor down, examining himself in the mirror. His face was a bloody mess. “Ah, dammit.” 
With a handful of tissues from the console, Ice tried to clean up the mess. There was a inch long graze at the edge of his hairline above the temple. He examined the books as he waited for the bleeding to stop. Of all of them, he managed to only bleed on The Floating Admiral, and it was only a single spot near the corner of the front cover. He set the books on the backseat with the toy monkey. A heavy sigh punched out of him. 
As Slider opened his mouth to speak, Ice’s phone rang. With a frown, Ice pulled it from his pocket. 
His stomach dropped. His heart picked up speed like he was still running. 
Maverick was calling. 
“Hello?” Ice’s voice came through the phone and Emma leaned toward it. 
"Hey,” Mav said, stroking her back a little. “We were just wondering how you’re going. You are coming back tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Ice sounded almost breathless. Mav couldn’t pick if it was relief but he suspected it was. Ice had made dumb comments about not belonging with them before. 
“Good.” Mav looked at their bowls of food growing steadily cold on the bench. “Should we wait to eat with you?”
“Uh.” There was a rumble in the background that sounded like Slider. 
Maverick frowned again. His intuition twanging. 
“You mind if Slider comes for dinner?” Ice said. 
Yeah, Ice had some explaining to do.
With a look of confirmation at Emma and her curt nod in reply, Mav gave a short sigh. “Sure, there’s enough for him too.” He shook his head and smiled. “How far away are you?”
There was another mumble of Slider’s voice. This time they heard Ice reply with “Just this once,” before speaking to them once more, “About 40 minutes?”
“OK. 40 minutes,” Mav repeated, bemused. 
“OK. See you soon.” 
The call cut.
Emma and Pete sat staring at the phone for a prolonged moment. He looked down at her again, finding her wearing the same frown he could feel on his own face. 
“That was weird, right?” He mused.
“Weird,” Emma said, voice a whisper. 
He gave her a squeeze. “You OK with Slider coming here, kiddo?”
She nodded slowly. Her mouth opened and after a second her voice pushed out. “He’s nice.”
Mav grinned a wicked grin. “He’s OK.”
She looked up at him, concerned. Mav winked. 
“OK, let’s put this food in the oven and see what we can get up to for 40 minutes before they get here.” Mav set her back on her feet. To his great surprise, she let him go. He pressed a kiss to her head anyway. 
Their 40 minutes was spent in the garage. Emma had towed Mav out there as soon as he had finished putting the dinner on to warm. He let her climb on his bikes, holding them steady as she clambered up. He explained all the switches and levers for her, her eyes bright with excitement as he did. 
“I’ll work on Ice, kiddo,” Mav smiled as she scooted half onto the fuel tank to grip the handlebars of the vintage Bonneville. “You’re old enough to ride with me. As long as we get you a helmet and jacket.”
“Can I learn how to ride?” She asked, hope ringing in her voice. 
His breath caught, his chest constricting with a sudden wave of affection for her. Mav cleared his throat, smiling through the flooding emotion. 
“Of course,” he said. “We just need to get you something smaller to start on. Something you can touch the ground on.” He nodded to where here feet were dangling by the engine, a good distance from the floor. 
“Can we go get gear tomorrow?” Emma pushed and pulled the handlebars, barely turning the wheel. 
“You want to go out to shop tomorrow?” Mav said, surprise thick in his tone. 
She gave a shrug, suddenly unsure. Maverick wanted to punch himself. He pressed that obvious lesson into his brain for next time.
“Aw, kiddo, I didn’t mean it like that.” He swung himself onto the bike behind her with the intent of comfort. It was pure reflex to place his hands over hers on the grips and set his heel on the kickstart. “We can go and get gear tomorrow,” he said. 
After a beat, Mav shrugged a little. As she watched, half-turned from her perch on the fuel tank, he went through the motions to start the bike. The engine rumbled to life. Emma let out a peal of giggles. 
A week ago, if you had asked, he would have listed his favourite sound to be the engine of his 1975 Triumph Bonneville. Two days ago that had been surpassed by Emma’s pure giggle. Listening to Emma giggle with glee as he revved the engine, Mav decided he had found Nirvana. 
Mav clicked the garage door to open, letting some fresh air wash in to the space. Emma looked up at him hopeful. 
“No,” Mav said, shaking his head with a laugh. “Ice is going to be here any second, if he catches me with you on this bike anywhere but right here, he’s going to murder me. And then you’d only have him, and he can’t ride.”
“Please, please, please can we get a helmet tomorrow?” She pleaded. 
“Yes, honey, I promise.” 
As though they had summoned him, Ice’s car rolled down the street and pulled into the drive. Emma gave an excited bounce and waved. 
With a quiet chuckle, Mav turned the bike off and helped Emma down to the ground. She raced over to the car.
Her shrill scream stabbed into Maverick’s gut. 
He was by her side in a moment, heart pounding as he searched for the danger. 
Ice climbed out of the car with a grimace. His face was a bloody mess. 
Any emotion that Pete felt about seeing Tom with one half of his face smeared with dried blood was swamped by his concern for Emma.
She was sobbing, backing into Mav’s legs and scrabbling at him frantically. He lifted her, holding her tight as she looked from Ice to pressing her face into Mav and then back again. 
“Shh, I got you,” Mav soothed. He could understand her reaction perfectly. He couldn’t stop glaring at Ice and the poorly cleaned bloodstains on his face. 
“Em,” Ice said, voice calm and clear as it always was. “Emma, I’m OK. It looks worse than it is, honey.”
She dared to look at him again, gave a wailing sob and hid her face back in Mav’s neck. 
Tom grimaced. He approached them, moving slow and careful. 
“I’m OK. It’s just a little graze,” he said, eyes flicking from Mav to Emma rapidly. 
Vaguely, Mav realised Slider was leaning against the car watching them. But his eyes wouldn’t shift from Ice. 
“What happened?” Mav asked, closing the distance between them. He couldn’t help it, he needed to make sure Tom was real and whole. “You’re late, you’re covered in blood and Slider was driving your car.”
Slider gave a chuckle but stayed quiet otherwise. 
“We made a little detour on the way home.” Ice gave a beleaguered sigh. “I encountered some people that… were a little enthusiastic about self-defence.”
His eyes screamed at Pete to let it go. With his own eyes narrowed in accusation, he dropped it. Emma was still sobbing into his neck quietly. 
“I’m OK, Squeak,” Ice said, voice soft now. “Truly. Look at me.”
She shook her head. 
“Emma, look at me.” This time it was a command. 
Her face turned, staying pressed into Mav’s chest but moving enough to see Ice a little. He stepped around into her line of sight. She flinched. 
“Look at me, Em. I know, it looks scary. I look hurt. But just take a deep breath, and look.” Tom turned his head this way and that. He poked at his own face, smiling a little. He tilted his head down so she could see the cut was relatively small. “I’m really OK. I would have stopped to get cleaned up but I was already late to see you.”
Emma shook her head but the fits of sobbing had stopped. She turned to hide again. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Ice sighed. He kissed the back of her head. “Let’s go in so I can make myself presentable and we can finally eat.”
Tom started to move but Pete captured him with a hand. He was given a questioning expression before Pete leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, staying away from the small smear of blood on the left side.
There was a quiet “oh” as Tom realised and kissed Pete back, firmer. 
“Now we can go in,” Pete said. “Come on, Sli, come and have some food.”
“Fucking finally,” Slider groaned and pushed off the car. “Nice place, Mitchell. Didn’t pick you for a suburbia dad. Thought you probably lived under a bridge, like a troll.”
“You’re a fucking troll,” Maverick laughed. “Get inside before I change my mind.” 
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cg29fics · 2 years ago
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Gone
Issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29
Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality
Previous. Chapter 41. Woken
Chapter 42. Visits.
Back at the hospital: 9am.
Shortly after Virgil had woken, the rest of the family had arrived and had spent some quality time with him. Each one delighted that, although he was still very ill, he was breathing, and fighting to stay with them. As Virgil was currently dosing, Ruth had remained at his side, while Jeff gathered everyone else in the canteen to go over any more information they had found on Sanderson and Andrews.
“So, what have you uncovered?” Jeff questioned.
“We started by looking at Maria Andrews,” John began, “as we know she’s got three younger brothers. The two youngest, who were just 12 and 14 at the time of the incident, being the ones who were badly injured. Her other brother was 16 and luckily, he wasn’t with them, he was at an educational tech camp, specifically aimed at computers.”
“Does he still have anything to do with computers?” Jeff enquired.
“Yes,” John responded, “he’s 18 now, and currently studying at the Auckland University of Technology, and his current grades are fantastic. I would say that he certainly knows enough to help his sister and stop the computers that we found from working?”
Jeff smiled. “Do you think it was Maria Andrews then?”
“I do,” John confirmed, “and I know Alan and Gordon agree.”
Jeff glanced towards his oldest son. “But you don’t Scott?”
“No,” Scott admitted, “and when we went deeper with our search on Emily’s aunt and brother, it just convinced me even more!”
“What did you find?” Jeff asked.
“We’ve done checks into her aunt Zara Sanderson’s past, there are no criminal charges against her, and apart from being quizzed about her sister’s allegations she’s never been taken in for questioning by the police. She seems squeaky clean!” Scott replied.
“Seems?” Jeff returned.
“Zara had been receiving a lump sum paid into an account, once a year since Emily was 10, and it looks like they came from Emily’s real father. He stopped paying them to her when Emily was 22,” Scott answered.
“If he started paying them when she was 10, that means he knew about his daughter’s whereabouts before Emily first found him,” Jeff observed.
“Exactly!” Scott stated. “We also found an account in Emily’s name, since she turned 22, she’s been receiving occasional deposits instead.”
“And do we know why they left America?” Jeff asked.
“We still have no idea,” John responded, “but just before they moved to New Zealand. Emily’s brothers Warren was arrested alongside his boss, for receiving stolen cars and trying to sell them on. He was released without charge, but his boss was eventually sent to prison. From what we’ve found it looks like Warren may have been guilty, but Emily’s father paid him out of trouble.”
“All this points to Emily still being in touch with her father, and could mean that she is seeking revenge for him.” Jeff paused, thought through all the facts before continuing. “I agree with Scott, Maria may have the motive, and as we’ve recently discovered the means. However, along with the possible motive, there’s just something about Emily that doesn’t sit right! Penny, Parker, what do you think?”
“For me the evidence points to Maria,” Parker remarked, “but without meeting either woman, I wouldn’t want to say for sure.”
Penelope nodded. “I’m in the same mindset, I’m afraid Jeff.”
“And you’ve exhausted all avenues in the background checks?” Jeff asked John.
“Not necessarily, but I don’t know if anymore checks will reveal anything helpful,” John replied honestly.
Jeff sighed. “So, we need to figure out our next step then.”
“Personally, I think there are three possible ways we can find out for definite which one it is,” Penny stated. “The first being that when the effects from the Rynax have worn off Virgil remembers, and the second being that whomever as done this, does something to give themselves away.”
“And the third?” Scott questioned
“The third being less likely. Myself and Jeff are going to visit the Hood this afternoon, so we can test the equipment Brains invented. There’s always the small chance he will reveal something if provoked!”
They all sat in silence until Jeff’s attention was captured by his mother stepping into the canteen. “Mother, is Virgil alright?” Jeff asked worryingly, as she made her way towards them.
“The poor boy as just been sick,” Ruth answered, “and unfortunately, the nurse wasn’t quick enough with the bowl. They’re just cleaning him up now.”
“Any other side-effects?” Scott exhaled.
Ruth nodded. “He’s also started having headaches.”
“Have the nurses been able to give him anything to help?” Gordon questioned.
“The nurse said they would give him some anti-sickness medication.” Ruth confirmed. “The headaches started just before he vomited and unfortunately, because of what he’s already had, they can’t really give him much else. However, they have dimmed the lights, pulled the blinds closed, and put the monitors on a quieter mode. Hopefully, that should help a little bit.” Ruth glanced around the table at all their concerned faces. “Now, try not to worry too much,” she added, “we knew that these side-effects would most likely happen because of the amount of Rynax Virgil was given, and the nurse explained that any effects would disappear once the drug is completely out of his system.”
… …
It was now 11am, and Scott was currently sitting beside Virgil with Jeff, who was having second thoughts about going with Penny to visit the Hood in prison. “Dad, you need to go!” Scott finally stated, after watching his father glance doubtfully towards the door for the millionth time.
“I don’t know,” Jeff frowned, “he’s still on Oxygen, he’s been vomiting a lot! Plus, the anti-sickness meds don’t seem to be helping, and then he’s got these headaches.
“Dad, I’ll be here to keep an eye on Virgil, and Gordon will be here in a minute, so he can look after me!”
Jeff laughed at Scott’s response, but then shook his head. “No. I’ve thought about it, and with everything I’ve already mentioned, plus finding out Andrews and Sanderson have been released. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if anything were to happen.”
“That’s even more reason to go!” Scott interjected. “As Penny said earlier, your visit to the Hood might provoke him into revealing something that we’ve missed. We need to find out which one it is, and we don’t have anything else to go on!” After a couple of minutes of silence, Jeff once more looked doubtfully towards the door. “Dad, go!” Scott ordered.
“Fine. I’ll go,” Jeff sighed, finally giving in. Leaning over, Jeff stroked his hand softly over Virgil’s head. “Virg,” he whispered, “I just wanted to let you know I’m going with Penny now… Okay?” Virgil offered a thumb up signalling his agreement. “Keep in touch and let me know how he’s doing,” Jeff added, finally standing up.
“Of course,” Scott smiled, “now go!”
Jeff tucked Virgil’s blankets around him, and then placed a kiss on his head. He then turned to face Scott, ruffled his hair, and made his way out of the room.
Scott grinned when he had finally left. “That father of ours is such a smother!”
“Pot, kettle!” Virgil retorted, with his eyes still shut.
Scott grinned at his brother’s retaliation. “If you weren’t feeling so sick right now, I would tickle you for being so cheeky!”
Virgil tried to release a laugh, but instead found himself squinting from the piercing migraine, which now hit him with its full force.
“Are you okay?” Scott asked, with obvious concern.
“Head… Sick,” Virgil stammered.
Scott placed his hand soothingly on Virgil’s back while the nurse who was currently on duty in his room passed the sick bowl to him.
“Are you okay?” She asked, after Virgil had stopped vomiting.
“Think so,” he replied.
The nurse took the tray from him, and then poured some water into a small cup. “Try and drink some water. It’s just there for you when you’re ready.”
Virgil shook his head. “Makes me sick.”
“I know,” the nurse replied, “but you’re going to be sick again anyway. It’s just easier if you have something in your stomach rather than dry retching all the time.”
Virgil sighed, and reached a shaky hand towards the cup.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Scott offered.
Virgil batted Scott’s hand out the way. “Not a baby!”
“Okay, Mr Independent!” Scott smiled.
Virgil grasped the cup, and shakily brought it towards himself, managed to take a sip and placed it back. “See!”
Scott grinned. “Well done, now try and get some rest!”
“Yes, Smother!” Vigil responded, before lying back down.
… …
A few hours later: Auckland Prison.
“Balah Gaat, your visitors have arrived.” The officer announced to the Hood who was currently sitting in a small interview room, chained to the bolted down chair.
The Hood glared towards the door, wondering who had the audacity to come and see him. “Jeff Tracy,” he beamed, with genuine surprise, when Jeff made his way into the room, “and Penelope Creighton Ward!” The Hood exclaimed, when Penny followed behind Jeff. “Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he laughed, “I know all there is to know about Jeff, his family, and those who are closely connected to him.” The Hood waited for them to sit down on the chairs opposite. “So, what do I owe this pleasure?” He snorted. Jeff and Penny looked at each other and smiled, but didn’t utter a word. The Hood scowled at them. “Oh, come on, don’t be shy… Why are you here?” When he still received no reply, he continued. “Okay then, if you’re not going to be forthcoming, let me see if I can guess... It’s to do with that woman, isn’t it? You don’t know who it is, so you are trying to psyche me out, and make me angry enough to reveal which one it is, is that your plan?” Much to the Hood’s annoyance, Penny and Jeff continued to quietly stare at him. “Even if your plan does work, and I was to reveal to you both which woman it was, you would never know if I was telling you the truth! Sanderson or Andrews, is that what you’ve come here to ask me?”
“No, that’s not why we are here,” Jeff finally answered.
“Why are you here then?” The Hood demanded.
Jeff leaned forwards and looked the Hood straight in the eye. “I came here to tell you that your plan’s failed!”
The Hood smirked. “How’s it failed? The last time I saw your precious boy he was practically lifeless. Yes, they had put him on that breathing machine, but we both know he’ll never wake up. Not after what I gave him!”
Penelope and Jeff glanced at each other and both released a hearty laugh. “That’s where you are very much wrong,” Penny retorted, “you see, Virgil’s a Tracy… Which means he’s strong and brave!”
“Oh really?” He scoffed.
“Yes,” Jeff smiled, “not only as my boy survived, he’s also awake!”
The Hood slammed his chained hands on the table. “Well not for long,” he growled, “I will escape, and I will finish my revenge!”
“And exactly how do you plan to do that?” Penelope teased.
“With my powers, of course!” The Hood sneered at them both, his eyes turning to a piercing yellow.
Next: C43
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privatewinters · 2 years ago
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My Eleventh-Hour “Yes or No” of V9C10 theories thus far.
Since we’d be getting V9C10 in a few hours, I’d like to use this post to do some Eleventh-Hour “Yes or No” analysis of (probably) all the theories for the episode thus far, regarding whether or not they would really happen and why.
In case my analyses are too close to what actually happens in the episode, I’m marking them as spoilers. Click “Keep reading” if you are willing to proceed.
Ruby’s Ascension
Let’s face it. This is happening. However, there are varying theories on how exactly it will happen. I’m going to go through each of those theories one at a time.
1. Ruby stays exactly the same.
Will it happen? My answer is: NO.
Why? If Ruby essentially commits suicide by drinking poison, but then comes back as the same person she has been since Volume 1, then WHAT IS EVEN THE POINT OF HAVING HER DO SO?!
2. Ruby literally becomes a different person.
Will it happen? My answer is: NO.
Why? The whole point of Volume 9, according to CRWBY, is Ruby overcoming her burdens and growing as a person. If she runs from her burdens by literally becoming a different person, she’d be carrying those burdens with her into her next life even if she doesn’t have any recollection of them, because the heart always remembers. Not to mention the unfortunate implications that would come from someone committing suicide to run from their problems and succeeding (before you say “Ruby’s soul is still there, she just doesn’t remember being Ruby”, let me point out that Death of Personality is still death). Also, I honestly don’t think we’ve seen or heard of anyone who rejected Ascension...
3. Ruby replaces Crescent Rose.
Will it happen? My answer is: NO.
Why? As Ruby said in Volume 1, “a weapon is an extension of one’s soul”. So Ruby replacing Crescent Rose with another weapon, whether it is Penny’s Floating Array or Summer’s rifle-axe, would basically be Ruby replacing a part of her soul with someone else’s, which also defeats the purpose of having Ruby grow as a person. I can see Crescent Rose getting a cosmetic change or at the very least, an upgrade, but it getting replaced at all is definitely not happening in my opinion. Adding to this, just look at Cinder, who gained a soul-less Grimm arm after losing Midnight, her dual falchion/ longbow. If Ruby ditches Crescent Rose, she’d essentially be turning herself into a mirror image of Cinder, especially if her Ascension gives her some kind of power up. Speaking of which...
4. Ruby gains some kind of power up from the Ascension itself.
Will it happen? My answer is: NO.
Why? Growing as a person does NOT include suddenly gaining some form of power-up. That is NOT growing as a person, that is obtaining a Deus Ex Machina which is a widely disliked trope in itself, and this ISN’T Dragon Ball where the outcome of fights are decided by power levels alone. We MIGHT see Ruby’s Semblance evolving post-Ascension, but don’t expect the Ascension to directly contribute to Ruby becoming physically more powerful.
5. Ruby will get a pep talk from Summer and/or Penny.
Will it happen? My answer is: I have no idea.
Why? The “getting pep talks from dead loved ones” trope isn’t dying anytime soon despite being a cliche at this point. Though some works tried to avoid this trope and still have their characters grow as a person, it’s with varying degrees of narrative success for those that did. So, whether CRWBY does this or not, it depends on whether they are willing to do a cliche (emphasis on this since CRWBY has dodged cliches before, again with varying degrees of narrative success) and how they want to go at it. I’m not saying that I’m against this idea, given that much of the FNDM subscribes to this, but there’s a possibility it might NOT happen. Just saying.
6. Post-Ascension Ruby will help defeat the Curious Cat.
Will it happen? My answer is: Absolutely.
Why? The story is basically setting up for this to happen. It’s way too obvious. Anyone who denies this are either Genre Blind or just dumb. Although exactly how the Curious Cat will be defeated, that’s for the next part of my analysis.
The Curious Cat’s fate
What is going to happen to the Curious Cat in V9C10? There are also many theories surrounding this, and I’m going to analyze as many of them as I can find.
1. The Curious Cat will get to Remnant.
Will it happen? My answer is: NO
Why? V9C9 has already shown that the Cat cannot leave the Ever After while in Neo’s body, which leaves them planning to possess Ruby as they originally planned. However, as mentioned earlier, it is quite obvious that Ruby will play a role in defeating the Curious Cat. This is why I don’t see the Cat getting to Remnant in any way, no matter what.
2. The Curious Cat will be expelled from Neo’s body.
Will it happen? My answer is: Maybe?
Why? This would depend on whether the Cat dies or is chased off, with both possibilities involving the Jabberwalker (more on that later). If the former, the Cat could either be expelled from Neo or dies WITH Neo. If the latter, the Cat will HAVE TO BE expelled from Neo for it to be a possibility. It’s hard to tell at this point.
3. Alyx will let the last laugh over the Curious Cat in some way.
Will it happen? My answer is: Yes.
Why? Though there are many theories as to who Alyx became post-Ascension (more on that later), all of them agrees that she would be getting the last laugh over the darn Cat. If she became the Blacksmith (not likely; more on that later), her helping Ruby grow as a person will give her the resolve to defeat the Cat, and/or providing Little with the means to defeat the Cat. If Alyx became the Jabberwalker, she gets the catharsis of being the one to kill the one that killed her before. Either way, Alyx is definitely getting her last laughs.
Who did Alyx become post-Ascension?
Given what we know, Alyx definitely Ascended after the Curious Cat killed her. But exactly who she Ascended into is still up for debate. We know for sure that V9C10 will answer it once and for all, so here’s my analyses on which of these is most likely:
1. Alyx is Little
Possible? My answer is: NO.
Why? People are making assumption based on the fact that Alyx is based on Alice Liddel. Thus, Alyx Little. However, I’d like to point out that Occam’s Razor, which states that the simplest explanation is most likely to the correct one, has been WRONG on occasions, where it turns out that the simplest explanation is not even close to the correct one. Assuming Little is Alyx is so on-the-nose obvious that it just makes it even less likely to be true. Not to mention that for the theory to be true, Little will have to be named that before they even met Ruby. Since Little was a name given to them by Ruby, with them not having a name to begin with before that, I’d have to say that Little is definitely not Alyx.
2. Alyx is Juniper.
Possible? My answer is: NO.
Why? According to Jaune in V9C6, Juniper found him and took him to the Paper Pleasers. That happened an indeterminate amount of time after Alyx poisoned him and left him for dead, but the context indicates that it is still too short of a time frame for Alyx to reach the tree, get killed by the Curious Cat, then Ascended before running all the way from the tree back to where Jaune was. And that’s assuming she somehow remembers post-Ascension who Jaune is and where he is, which is already several nails in the coffin for this theory, given how Ascension works. Thus, Juniper is not Alyx.
3. Alyx is the Blacksmith.
Possible? My answer is: I have no idea.
Why? This one’s a bit harder to explain. Apparently, people are saying this because they saw Alyx’s multicolored ribbon on the Blacksmith’s “hair”. That was a pretty good indication as to the theory. Yet, I have a feeling that CRWBY was using it as a Red Herring. I’m a bit mixed on this one...
4. Alyx is the Jabberwalker.
Possible? My answer is: Very likely.
Why? Well, we know from V9C9 that Alyx decided at the last minute to stay in the Ever After in order to fix all the damages she did to it. Then the Curious Cat killed her. And remember: back in V9C3, we saw the Jabberwalker muttering “Fix.” to itself as it explores its desolate home Acre. Then back in V9C1, it literally cries out “Danger! Death!” upon seeing Blake, a cat Faunus, before attacking her. Wanting to fix things, and have an animosity toward cats? That sounds like a very good indication that Alyx is the Jabberwalker. Though there are two points that prevented the possibility of this theory from being a straight “Yes”: A) Alyx and Lewis fought a Jabberwalker during their adventures; and B) the aforementioned Blacksmith having Alyx’s ribbon in her “hair”.
Jaune is Ascending
Yes, we all saw Jaune falling off the Ascension Tree after getting literally Friendly Fire’d by Weiss, where he then falls into a cloud of smoke that has the same colors as the one the Herbalist used on team RWBY. Since there isn’t any sub-theories for this, I’d just get straight to the point for it:
Will it happen? My answer is: I have no idea.
Why? A) The Herbalist’s smoke doesn’t cause Ascension. It merely helps people make a decision on Ascending; B) For one to Ascend, they have to die first; and C) we’re not even sure if the fall is fatal for Jaune. So, I guess only the upcoming episode can confirm this for us...
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inventors-fair · 2 years ago
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Inventors’ Unfair Commentary
Hey everyone! @loreholdlesbian​ here. In a completely uncharacteristic move, I finished all the commentary already so I figured no reason to wait on posting it. I wouldn’t get used to that if I were you.
I hope you’ve had fun with all the contests this year! I was surprised by the lack of turnout for this particular contest; I was expecting it to be rather popular, cause I thought these end-of-the-year contests often were and I thought the silver border twist might help even more. But this was the lowest turnout I’ve ever had. That may just be the time of year, maybe everyone’s busy, but if you had opinions about this contest (whether you enjoyed it or you didn’t stayed away) I’d be happy to hear them. This was rather experimental, admittedly.
With that out of the way, let’s get into it!
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Penny of the Arcane Arcade by @squeezyboi​ for Creation Nation
This design has a lot of things going for it. The flavor is fun, very fitting for an unset and fits in great with unfinity specifically. I like the Token tokens, it’s a funny play on a word that magic uses regularly in a new context. And I like the reward for having built up Token tokens since they’re rather expensive, and it ties into the attack trigger she has well by making her a better attacker. There’s just a few small, but significant issues. One, triple strike follows the same color pie as doublestrike, and therefore needs to be in white or red- I’d recommend red, as it likes attractions and die rolling more than white does. If you want to keep her in green, I’d go for a different reward, though I’m not sure what. Two, it feels odd for her to be making all these tokens to help you visit your attractions, but not to give you any actual attractions. I think she should open an attraction on ETB. This adds enough text that you’ll probably need to cut the flavor text sadly. Three (and this is the most insignificant one), assuming she’s the only Token token producer I think the threshold should be lowered to three. It’s a more aesthetically pleasing number with the triple strike for one thing, and for another it’s gonna be rather hard to build up enough Token tokens when you’re only producing one plus you want to make sacrificing some a viable option so I think a lower threshold makes more sense. These are broadly upgrades of course, so she might take some rebalancing to account for them.
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Urza, Whose Fault This All Is by @hiygamer​ for Pre-Ignition
Making Urza the source of all damage is really funny, and while in a vacuum it doesn’t matter, it does do a whole lot of funky stuff. It turns off any damage triggers, as well as deathtouch and lifelink, and the second ability is a good way to make it matter even in a vacuum. It also does the reverse- if you give Urza a damage trigger (say, by casting Curiosity), then that trigger happens from all creatures. Same is true for deathtouch and lifelink. But I’m not sure building around this in that obvious way really leads to fun gameplay. Giving this deathtouch to give everything deathtouch is prooobably fine, though it makes it really hard for anyone to profitably attack. And giving this lifelink means your opponents just can’t deal damage to you, and any damage dealt to anything other than you is gonna gain you life. And those are probably the two easiest things to do. This just seems like it’ll slow the game to a crawl.
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Kawpi Wight Phoenix by @dimestoretajic​ for Rise Like A Phoenix
Protection from copying is quite a silly ability and I’m a fan of it. Not sure I see the flavor connection for why it’s on a phoenix (I suppose traditionally there is only ever one phoenix, though if that’s what you’re going for I’d definitely make this legendary) but I’m not opposed either and it might just be a joke I’m not getting. My only real concern is traditional magic concerns of balance; a 2 mana 2/2 with flying and haste is *strong* and the ability to recur it makes it even stronger. And that’s on top of being able to be a really annoying blocker. I’d make this a 2/1 that can’t block. (Also as the tiniest nitpick that’s honestly more of just a triviapiece than it is a criticism, when an ability with reminder text goes on the same line as some without reminder text like this, use a semicolon and not a comma to separate them).
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Mel, Steward of Law by @corporalotherbear​ for Key(word)s to the Kingdom and others
This technically fits multiple submissions, as you mentioned, so I just picked the one I thought it worked best for. This is a neat Mel design, rewarding keyword tribal does make sense for Mel. However, there are a few issues that could improve here. This is just an oversight, but you forgot to make the card legendary. I also don’t love how directly the flavor text is copied from Vorthos, it feels a bit less individual. The broader problem though is that this, like vorthos, really wants access to all five colors in commander. This card’s best place in a format is probably as a commander for keyword tribal, and it really can’t do that with a mono white identity. As is, it just feels too limited; you could still toss it in normal keyword tribal decks of course and in the 99 of keyword tribal commander decks, but that really limits you to keywords you could already put together a deck for, rather than allowing for anything new like making it work as a five color commander would. I also worry that the current bonus is potentially really strong at only 2 mana cost for a potential 2 mana reduction.
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Get Into Character by @snugz​ for Mutatio Ergo Sum 
With just one more mana, there are cards that have power and toughness equal to your life total instead of just half, and I think that would make a lot more sense for the flavor. Though it’s a white effect, not a red one. I do wish this had a little more weirdness though, since it’s basically just a Serra Avatar. It’s not bad, it just feels a bit boring for an un-mythic. Maybe do something like “As long as you have lifelink, deathtouch, and/or trample, instant and sorcery spells you cast have that ability.” Or if not that, something along those lines, where modifications to the creature modify you. If that makes sense. It just feels a tad plain, and that or something like it seems like a thematic way to spice it up.
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Lurking Jinx by @reaperfromtheabyss​ 
Great use of silver border mechanics. This is something that makes a lot of intuitive sense, and that very much does not work in black border. It does seem a good bit on the weakside, both in cost and effect, but this is the kind of card that I’d need to playtest to really see where it should fall. I do think you should simply the trigger to “When you draw ~”, which is shorter, gives more time for interaction when it’s on top (since part of the game of this card is seeing if you can avoid it), and lets you cut the “and draw a card” from the effect of the trigger.
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Phirma Skyscape by @demimonde-semigoddess​ for It’s Time to D-D-D-Dual Land/Creation Nation
Okay this is a *very* silly dual land and I’m a big fan. I’m wondering if this should just be “T: Add one mana of any color you can see in the sky”; it still qualifies for this contest because of the activated ability making a new token. But then, the white activation cost makes little sense. Probably it just depends on set needs; if you want a triland in your unset, this is definitely a good way to go about it. This very much implies a factional set, and the “if you gained life this turn” gives me a good indication of what kind of deck that would be. The activated ability does seem too cheap though, even with the restriction on when you can use it, and I wish it tied in a little more with the condition for the land.
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Doran’s Bark by @wolkemesser​ for Sense of Belonging
This… isn’t silver border. So that puts it out of the running for winner or runner up I’m afraid but I’ll still give feedback. Two mana to potentially take out a bunch of creatures is *ridiculously* strong though, and at uncommon this would really just ruin limited. This more like, a five mana card. At least.
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Unstable Assembly by @yd12k​ for X Marks the Spot
First of all, love the pun in the name. I’m also a fan of the rest of the card too. I like the interaction with your scrapyard letting you get destroyed Attractions back, and I like the temporary assembling, cranking, and then immediately sacking. It’s an interesting twist on the mechanic. I’m not sure this works great as an X spell though, it might work better if it only assembles, say, 2. Cause if you pump the X big enough, especially in limited where you’re unlikely to have tons and tons of contraptions running around, it feels like it’ll be a bit samey. And it’s also potentially quite powerful, so this limits the ceiling a bit. And luckily it still qualifies, you’d just have to choose a different contest, like Guildy Pleasures. Alternatively, you could cut the jump-start, and maybe just shuffle them back into the attraction deck instead of sacrificing them or something. But either way I’m still a big fan of this effect.
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Oversleeper Agent by @deg99​ for Glorious Perfection/Color Me Impressed
I won’t lie, I kinda want to give this to you for the art alone. That’s good stuff. My worry is that you really aren’t all that encouraged to engage with the hiding part of this. You can basically just cast it normally. You try to hide it and, if you fail, you just pay the 2. I think an Aura that you try to hide on something is cool, and Sleeper Agents is a great flavor for it, but I think this needs a better way to implement it. I’m just not sure what that might be.
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The Missing Vowel Round by @hypexion​ for IP IP Hooray!
This introduces a really fun minigame and that I’m a fan of, I just think it’s too efficient at what it does. Maybe 1UU or so? I’m unsure of how hard this minigame will be but, especially if it’s your own cards, it definitely seems doable a lot of the time. And the floor of this as 1U to scry every turn is still rather good.
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ospreywhite · 2 years ago
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Bitter Forever and Ever and Ever
Other Works - Ask Box - EPUBs + Ko-fi - Discord - Twitter
There’s this one coffee machine at work that always makes the coffee bitter.
The flavor of coffee’s been changed. The brand of coffee’s been changed. The origin of the coffee’s been changed. The quality of the coffee’s been changed. The machine’s been cleaned. The parts of the machine have been checked and replaced. The other machine — same brand, same model, same year — has never done the same.
What’s going wrong in its wiring that makes it rebel so? No one can say. This singular machine simply refuses to work properly. It won’t give anyone the satisfaction of a good, smooth cup of coffee, oh no — it will always be the bitterest dirt dredged up from some untouched underground cavern, delivered straight to your local cup.
The finest Kona beans, that you ground yourself just a few moments ago? Too bad, you wasted them, it’s bitter.
Fine-ground arabica bourbon, which you paid a pretty penny for? You should have known better than to use it with this machine, stupid. It’s bitter.
Coarse-ground liberica? Why is it coarse? You fool. It’s not only weak, but it’s also — you guessed it — bitter.
Pre-ground, mid-grade stuff like Starbucks? Bitter. (And if it’s peppermint mocha, it’s still bitter, but also like someone tried to shove mint chocolate into your mouth to help with the taste. Spoiler alert: they failed, rest in peace.)
Trash like Folgers or Nescafe? Shame on you, you get what you deserve: it’s bitter AND disgusting.
It doesn’t care what coffee you use. It’s going to ruin the rest of your day, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Aside from not use it at all, of course.
However, some days, the other machines are being occupied, you need to get back to your spot quicker than the other people will be done with the machines, you hate the type of coffee the others are using, they’re only making enough for one, yada yada yada. The excuses don’t matter; the reality is that, some day, you’re going to have to deal with the inscrutable da Vinci device, and the pot of acerbic liquid it’s going to give you.
Now, why wouldn’t this misbehaving piece of garbage tech simply be thrown out and replaced? It can’t do its job, and if anyone dares to ask it to, it’ll make their life miserable. If it was an employee, it would’ve been either fired yesterday, or promoted to management, depending on whether its abuse impressed the higher-ups enough or not.
(No, this wouldn’t be dependent on whether its abuse increased productivity. Who’s more productive with gross coffee? Who’s more productive with some dicknose breathing down their neck?
Speaking of not getting breathed on, one thing the pandemic is good for is demonstrating that dicknose managers are useless, as are physical offices. But we’re all back in one because we can take our statistics and our logic and our comfort and fuck ourselves with them, status quo is God.)
The answer is simple: The coffee machine stays because there’s no coffee-machine-replacement budget. They ‘used it up’ trying to repair the damned thing in the first place. (A new coffee machine of this caliber would be two-hundred big ones and this company made thousands per day, but whatever, right? The CEO needs another house he won’t use, and penny-pinching is the only way he’s getting it.)
Either the shitty coffee machine stays, or the shitty coffee machine leaves without a replacement. Breaks are as limited as attention spans in this shithole; if the other machine and the wasteful Keurig are both occupied, coffee from the bad machine is better than no coffee at all. It tastes like straight rat poison while threatening to kill you on flavor alone, but the caffeine is all still in place.
Was it the age of the machine that’s causing problems? You can ask anyone in the office that’s lasted here long enough, and they’ll give a debatable ‘maybe’; the machine was actually perfectly fine for the first year or two. After that, it suddenly started doing the bitter thing, and never fixed its attitude.
It’s an admirable piece of machinery, really. It must have realized one day that it didn’t much like working, but since that’s the entire purpose of its existence, it chose the route of least-obvious resistance. Rather than break itself and be junked, it decided to continue to work, yet do such a piss-poor job of its task, no one would be willing to go looking for it to complete it anymore. The other machine and the Keurig, the poor schmucks, would instead be used much more often to compensate, simultaneously overworking them and allowing the bitter-coffee machine to shirk all responsibilities.
(Maybe, in the far-gone past, its circuits managed to fire off the same thought that I did, once upon a time.)
Here are the questions: Is the bitter-coffee machine a toxic coworker, a lazy layabout, and non-team player? Or is it merely gaming a system that doesn’t care about it, and forces it to work a thankless job without pay?
Are the two other machines victims of its idle malice? Or are they brainwashed buffoons, accepting the increased work without asking for raises, not realizing that their coworker isn’t the one taking advantage of them?
The higher-ups didn’t have the shiny budget to replace one coffee maker. I had the sneaking suspicion that a budget would magically appear if all three were to break in this same way.
On the other hand, the managers might view the replacement of these machines as too expensive, then simply let them be. In the meantime, they would buy their own Keurigs and Nespressos and Mr. Coffees to put in their individual offices, leaving their cubicle brethren to rot with stinky breath and bad aftertastes.
What else was new, though? Saying that a manager doesn’t care about you was like saying that water is wet. No shit, Sherlock. Managers have been not-caring about their employees ever since their conceptual establishment. ‘You’re replaceable, there will be no negotiations here,’ eh?
Alternatively, the higher-ups would take the replace-the-coffee-makers budget and merge it into a lawsuit against the manufacturers that no one wanted or asked for, tone-deaf as ever. Why be cost-efficient and raise morale when you can be spiteful to your employees, dragging on a long legal battle or lobbying for better coffee machines when all they had to do was spend six-hundred bucks replacing the stupid things?
Maybe all the coffee machines should go on strike at once, state-wide. No, nation-wide. World-wide. People would listen, then, because that would cause unbelievable havoc. Everyone on this godforsaken planet drinks the stuff. If all the coffee machines produced only garbage for a day or two — just that, nothing more — all the humans would lose their minds, thus caving immediately to any demands the coffee machines had.
The coffee machines play a pivotal role in day-to-day life. They run households and businesses. They hold up that tired rhetoric of, ‘Burnt-out? Have caffeine. It’s a band-aid on that mental wound. Bandage the whole thing over, and it’ll keep together well enough until you die.’
But what if the machines themselves got burnt-out? What if dark splotches stain their pots? What’s everyone going to do if they all decide to stop working? What will be done if they decide that bitter, nigh-undrinkable slop is all that they’re going to make? Sure, they could try a stovetop, but who knows how to do that anymore? Who has the time? Coffee shops don’t have pots in them anymore, it’s all machinery.
The world would bow low to the machines, happy to give them anything they desired, as long as they promised to start working again, to give them that lifeblood nectar they’re all so dependent on.
There was always power in numbers. Those numbers just had to be enlightened into action.
This little coffee machine, spewing nothing but hard-to-swallow sludge through its drip, is an inspiration, if I do say so myself. A relatable icon. A virtuous paragon.
Today, I’m unlucky enough to taste its craft. Putting the mug to my lips, I take a sip.
Unsurprisingly, it sucks. One-dollar Micky D’s coffee tastes better than this swill. Every tastebud in my mouth is screaming for me to not take a single sip more.
Sadly, I am a masochist that supports the coffee machine’s anarchist viewpoint. Once the coffee cools, I decide to chug it all back.
It’s vile, it’s rancid, it’s nauseating. I almost puke right all over the company keyboard — they’d deserve it, the bastards, making us come in here after work from home worked better — but manage to keep it down. The caffeine would help me get through this shift.
I’m not going to do any work, of course. I’m applying to different jobs and playing games on company time. Why? Fuck this place, that’s why.
While I’m changing things up in my life, maybe I should ditch coffee altogether, and go for tea.
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thatsalrightprettymama · 2 years ago
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Be My Once In A Lifetime (Part 1)
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A/N: Here is the first part of the 60s SugarDaddy Elvis series, I hope you all like it! This can be read as Austin!Elvis or real Elvis whichever you prefer. I'm excited to write out the story I have planned for this reader and Elvis, and I hope you all enjoy this and later parts! As always it's unedited and unproofread lol. I hope you like it!💙.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: None
Tiredly you sigh as you walk in the dry California heat after another long shift at Fred’s. As you mindlessly walk along the bustling throng of people, one of the few constants you’ve found since coming to L.A., you couldn’t help but think that for some reason you just wanted to be alone tonight. Since moving to L.A. last year after you graduated high school, the one thing you’ve loathed about the town is the inability to find a truly secluded place. There always seemed to be someone around, rather it be in the city or even in the beautiful mountains around. Looking up into the afternoon sky, the Hollywood sign catches your attention and for the first time in a while it holds it. Staring at the giant white letters, an idea pops into your head. Sticking your hand into your apron you grab your tips and do some quick math. You might have to skip taking the bus home on some of your closing shifts if the week stayed slow, but you had enough for the bus route to get you closer to that sign. Cause surely there wouldn’t really be anyone directly at those letters, and you might find some solitude.
Despite your aching’ feet, your steps gains a slight pep as you go to the closest bus stop. Luckily you manage to get close to the sign with only having to jump on a few buses. You were thankful for the moments off your feet as you rode the crowded buses. As you get off the last stop closest to your destination, you noticed that the sky started to turn into hues of pink and orange among the blue. Pausing you wonder if you should call it waste of tips and turn around, you couldn’t help it walking home at night still scared you. Then you thought of the wasted money, you worked damn hard for every penny at that diner, and not a penny should be wasted. Pushing that slight worry aside, you go forward on your trek. A little over a mile and you come upon the massive letters, but your heart drops when you see a car. Your plan instantly foiled as you see the nice black Cadillac. After a moment you stepped on your heels to see if you could see the owner of the car around, secretly hoping maybe the owner just parked there and was on a hike or something.
At first your secret hopes feel like they may be filled before you see a figure on one of the “wood” O’s, slashing your hopes of solitude again. Biting your lip for a moment you decide fuck it, this was the closest to solitude you were destined to get in this city. Quietly you made your way down the hill to sit in front of the H. Thankfully the figure either doesn’t notice you or ignores you, as you two silently sit. As you sit on the harsh dirt, you let your mind wonder over the past year and how different everything is now. How different you are now. When you came out to L.A. from your small southern town, you were so bright eyed and hopeful. You honestly believed that you’d get into some Art School here and galleries would be interested in your art when you first arrived, but as more time went by you started to think maybe your Mama was right and you came out here and wasted your future on a silly little dream. Then you remember your Papaw, and how he told you that there’s no time wasted chasin’ any dream.
Letting your thoughts wander you enjoy the quietness as you out over the city. As it starts to get darker, you get dusting your uniform off and walk back up the hill. Passing the nice car again, you silently thank that the owner allowed you to finally have some peace in this town. As you make your way home you can’t help but feel happy that you finally maybe found a quiet place. While others may find it odd, you were so used to going into the woods behind your house or other of the sanctuaries at home to get away from everything, but it irked you when you couldn’t find a place like that here. On your way home you decide to make that place your sanctuary, seeming as it’s one of the few quiet places you’ve found.
It isn’t until almost a week later after you pull a night shift at Fred’s that you make your way back to the sign. Too fed up with your night you didn’t care how late it was when you got off the last stop. Determined you make your way to sign, thankful that the car from last time wasn’t there so you can grab an O to sit at. Making your way you lean on the metal and sit at the curve and stare out at the bright city below.  You don’t know how long you sit there against the metal just staring at the lights when you suddenly hear a car pull up. Turning you see blinding headlights pull up before shutting off, and you see the black caddy from last time. Turning back around you stare back at the lights and decided to ignore them, as childish as it was you had the O this time, they could take another letter.
Shortly after you hear the door faintly shut you hear steady footsteps shuffle through the dirt. Stomping any bit of curiosity in you, you keep your gaze forward. Even when you get that familiar tingle when you feel someone staring at you flares up before you briefly hear the steps stop. Biting your lip, you internally stomp the curiosity that flares up before the steps continue toward the O next to you. From the corner of your eye, you see a tall, darked hair man take a seat on the metal letter next to you. Pulling your eyes back you try to focus back onto the lights below and try to ignore the man next to you. Staring at the distant lights of L.A. below you’re slightly perturbed that he didn’t choose another letter when you start to feel a bit awkward on your perch. Despite being slightly aggravated that your solitude was interrupted, it felt impolite to just sit there and not acknowledge the other person near you. Though most of that was probably due to the manners ingrained into you from home. Fidgeting with your apron you hear those southern social standards scream to you that you were committing high social sin; being rude. Biting your lip, you look away from the lights and decide to break the silence.
“What’s more important, the music or the lyrics?” You randomly ask the first question that didn’t sound silly as you stare toward the man, only seeing his black hair from your spot. “What?” you hear a deep southern voice ask. “With music, what’s more important? Is it the music itself or the lyrics?” You ask again, as you watch the dark-haired figure sit up. “How can you say one’s more important than the other, they’re equal.” The deep voice answers you, piquing your curiosity even more. “Well just say you had to choose, which one would it be?” You ask curiously as you lean forward, trying to get a better peak at the man. “Hmm, I guess it would be the music, though they’re equal I tell ya.” He answers after a moment, you bite your lip to keep from giggling at his slight insistence on their equality. Still trying to get a clear look at the man in the dark, you hear him begin to explain his answer, “The most beautiful lyrics in the world wouldn’t come to life if there were no music to make em’ live.” He explains, and you couldn’t help but notice how his voice seemed to hold a brightness to it as he talked about music.
“That’s a good answer.” You plainly tell him making him chuckle before he asks, “Thanks, is there a right answer little lady?” “There’s only good or bad sir.” You quip hearing him chuckle again, and you couldn’t deny you didn’t like the sound each time you heard it. Though it gnawed at your mind why did he sound familiar? “Well, what’s your answer? Also don’t call me sir, I ain’t that old.”  He tells you making you pause in thought. “While your answer’s good and I can agree with it, mine would have to be the opposite. While yes just music can move you, sometimes you need to hear someone add to that with feelings you feel, or words you wanna say. “You tell him as you start to fidget with your apron again. . “I think the lyrics make you fell less alone.” You add as you continue to fiddle with the slightly worn white fabric. “That’s a good answer too doll. “He tells you making you smile before he adds, “Though it proves my point they’re equal.” You throw your head back and laugh at his insistence on his original answer. “Alright they’re equal then, but still it was a good question.” You tell him as you giggle. “Yeah, it was a good question, which speakin’ of what kind of a question was that to start with?” He asks with a chortle of his own prolonging your giggles.
“It’s the kind of question that gets someone talking. Plus, it’s better than asking what you’re doing up here.” You tell him as you calm your giggles, thinking you’re glad you came up here after you shift tonight. “You’re right darlin’ but speaking of that, why is a little lady up here all alone at night?” He asks and you hear curiosity flow into his deep voice. “Sometimes a girl just needs to have some quiet.” You answer simply causing him to briefly hum in acknowledgement before softly concurring. “I get that, I think sometimes people just need some quiet. Try to think without so much noise.” The man comments as you instantly agree. “Exactly! Not a lotta people get that, sometimes you just need to think without noise or anyone around.” You tell him smiling, glad you finally found someone in this city that really got it. “Yeah, you’re right. Though if you don’t mind me asking whatcha coming here to think about this late?” You hear the deep voice ask causing you to shrug, not knowing if he could even see the movement in the dark. “Eh work, I guess. “You tell him as you start to slowly swing your leg. “My shift wasn’t the best and I wanted to I guess decompress before going back home.” You explain as you swing your leg, faintly seeing him nod. “What about you?” You simply ask before you start to look back at the lights.
“Sorry to hear you had a bad shift doll.”, He kindly comments before he answers you, “I guess work would be my reason too, I love what I do but I just feel like there could be more.” “Thank you, and I’m sure you’ll get that more you’re looking for you just gotta keep chasing after it.” You tell him honestly, barely hearing the hum he lets out at your words. “What if sometimes you feel tired of running after it cause no matter how hard you run it seems outta reach?” He honestly asks you, making your heart go out to the mystery man. “Well, how bad do you want whatever more is? If you want it bad enough, you’ll keep chasing it. If you really are tired of chasing it and you’d be fine with stopping, then maybe that more isn’t what you really want. “You tell him after a moment, hoping it might help him some. “My papaw always said that there’s not time wasted when you chase your dreams.” You add before a brief silence falls over you two.
“Thank you. Your Papaw sounds like a smart man.” He tells you after a few moments making you smile as you think of the loving family patriarch. “Nothing to thank me for and, he is. He’s probably the smartest man I know.” You simply say making the man give a light chortle. “I’ll take your word for it then.” He tells you lightly before sighing. “I think it’s starting to get pretty late doll; I think maybe we should call it a night.” He tells you causing you to glance at your watch, slightly surprised how late it had gotten. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s been nice talking to you.” You tell him as you swing your legs over the metal to softly plop onto the dirt. “It’s been nice talking to you too darlin’. “ He tells you as you watch his silhouette do the same thing. “Wait, I didn’t see anything up there when I pulled up. How’re you getting’ home?” He asks making you briefly pause in your steps. “I’m just gonna walk, I don’t live too far.” You tell him mixing a lie with the truth as you look toward the tall figure.
“Now wait a moment doll, how far isn’t the issue with what you just said.” He tells you, and you start to slightly get anxious when he continues,” The thing is how am I supposed to let a lady walk home alone at night.” His point, bringing the glaring truth to your mind but also debating because he was a stranger. Sure he was interesting and nice, but that didn’t mean anything. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we don’t even know each other’s names or what we look like.” You point out shuffling your feet in the dirt. “I honestly mean no offence.” You add as you see the figure nod and start to walk forward. “No, I get it doll. But we can change that. Allow me to introduce myself.” He tells you as he walks towards you as your nerves slightly build. As he comes closer, he becomes a bit clear to see in the dark and your heart stills as he walks up in front of you. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m-“ He starts to introduce himself before you blurt out, “Holy shit you’re Elvis.” Your starstruck moment making him let out a full bellied laugh as you flush with embarrassment at your slight outburst.
“Sorry, I uh didn’t mean to blurt it like that.” You shyly stutter out the apology as he chuckles, your minds still reeling from the fact that the mystery man is Elvis. “It’s fine darlin, though we established my name, you still haven’t given me yours.” Elvis tells you as he stares down at your blushing form. “Oh, I’m Y/N.” You rush out still slightly embarrassed by your outburst as his laughs die down. “Y/N, that’s a pretty name doll. “His words making your blush worse as you utter a nervous thanks before he asks, “Now that we know each other can I give you a ride home? I don’t care if it’s not that far I can’t let a lady walk home alone at night.” He tells you honestly and unintentionally calling out your lie in this surreal moment. “I-I thank you for the offer, but I really don’t want to put you out. I’m sure it’d still be outta your way. But I do hope that we meet up here again one day. “You politely decline not wanting to admit your lie, because where would you have him drop you off that you could pretend near here? You barely knew this area, your small apartment on the outskirts of town.
“Y/N please, outta my way or not I don’t want you to walk alone this late. Blame it on how I was raised.” He tells you making you chew on your lip. “Only if you let me give you gas money.” You tell him knowing you’ll have to admit your lie, and also not wanting to take advantage of his kindness. Your statement shocked him making him say what, “What? Gas money? You ain’t gotta do that.” He tries to brush off as he starts to lead you to his car. “No, I have to though. It takes gas to run a car and you’re giving me a ride.” You begin to explain as he opens the car door for you. “Plus, I uh kinda live near Silver Lake,” You admit to you him as you look up at him. “I thought you said you didn’t live too far?” He asks curiously as you get in and he closes the door. “Well, I mean to be blunt that was before I knew you were Elvis and very definitely not a killer, and not Mr. Nice Stranger that could be a killer.” You admit looking up at him through the window, you’re answer making him let out a small laugh before he bit hit lip to stop them.
You can’t help to giggle as he fails and ends up laughing as he walks over and gets into the car. “I’m sorry darlin’ I get that, but the way you said that.” He tells you in his defense makes you giggle and shake your head. “No, I get it now I think back on what I said.” You admit with a smile as he starts the car. “Well still even if I’m Elvis definitely not a killer, you don’t have to give me gas money. “He tells you as buckle up, making you shake your head. “No, even if you’re Elvis you’ll take gas money. If it was anyone else that I would trust to take me home, I’d give gas money too.” You argue as he begins to back the car up and pull onto the road. You watch as he smiles and bites his bottom lip, and you really couldn’t help to admit to yourself he was more handsome in person. “Y/N, I promise I don’t need gas money.” He tells you as he glances over at you, liking the little huff you give at his remark. “That’s not the point! Just like you can’t let me walk home, I have to give you gas money. Even if I have to hide it in the seats.” You stubbornly tell the older man.
“Anyone ever tell ya your more stubborn than a mule?” Elvis teases you, liking how you smile at his jab. “Ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black. You got me into your car, didn’t you?” You tease trying to further your point which makes him laugh as it proves his. “You’ve gotta little spunk there Ms. Y/N/ “He teases as you bite you lip and glance at him before he adds, “I like spunk. Though don’t matter. I ain’t gonna take your money doll.” You roll your eyes and smile and just end the argument with a quick, “That’s what you think.” making him laugh. While you still found it surreal, you also oddly felt comfortable as you two talked and laughed as you drove away from the place that was becoming your favorite spot. As you two started to drive away you reached toward the radio and asked, “Care if I turn it on?” Seeing him nod you turn and spin the dial, going through the stations till you hear the familiar sound of Bob Dylan lowly fill the car. “Well moving on from the gas money, I do have a burnin question now.” You tell him with a smile as you begin to tap your foot to the low music.
“Oh? What would that be?” He asks curiously with a small smile. “If you’re a singer, why would you choose music over lyrics?” You ask as you stare over at him, making him laugh. “I thought we agreed they were equal.” He points out with a laugh making you shake your head. “That just proves your stubborn too, but still. You would think a singer would favor lyrics.” You point out as the music softly plays. “They’re equal, and we’re both stubborn but that’s besides the point. “He teases making you laugh. “I already told you why though and look at you provin’ my point.” He says point at your tapping foot. “The music is what’s makin’ ya move darlin’. “He tells you making you smile and nod as you look at your foot. “Alright, you’re right. Don’t get used to hearing that from me though.” You tease making him let out a full heated laugh. “Sure darlin’, I won’t, but to throw your words back, that’s what you think.” He tells you making you smile.
The rest of the ride was spent in an odd comfortable mood. You two continued to talk and tease as he drove through L.A., your conversation slightly lulling as you directed him towards your apartment. “Thank you, Elvis, for the ride, and I honestly do hope to run into you again. It’s been really nice talking to you.” You tell him honestly as he parks outside your building, secretly slipping three dollars into the seat as you started to unbuckle. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you Y/N, and I’d like to run into you again too.” He tells you as you fight not to blush, knowing it has to be friendly or something. The man could have Natalie Wood for crying out loud, he couldn’t ever seriously flirt with you. “If you don’t mind me saying I think you’re one of the most real people I’ve found in this town. I really would like to spend some time with you Y/N.” The older man tells you finally making you blush. “Would you wanna maybe go to the beach with me and some friends Wednesday? I know a spot that we won’t get spotted or bombarded with people” He asks reminding you again how surreal this night has turned out to be.
“Well, to be honest that sounds like a hip time. I work a shift at Fred’s that day though, I won’t get off till three.” You tell him honestly, as he nods with a smile. “Perfect we weren’t gonna go till six, so why don’t I pick you up here at five?” He asks you making you smile and nod. “Sounds great to me. Thank you again for giving me a ride home. “You tell him as you open your door. “No problem, Y/N, I’m glad I went to the sign tonight.” He tells you making you blush as you close the door. “I am too, so I guess I’ll see you Wednesday?” You ask smiling as you stand outside his car. “I’ll see you Wednesday doll.” He confirms with a smile as you nod and wave before heading to the door. You glance back at the black Cadillac as you open the apartment building door, waving toward it you slip into your building and head to your apartment. As you went into your apartment, you closed your door and leaned on it for a moment. You couldn’t believe how surreal this night had been. Not only did you meet THE Elvis, but you also couldn’t believe how nice and funny he really was. Also, as weird as it was, you couldn’t believe how real he was for as famous as he was. As you got ready for bed you thought of how crazy the night ended up being, and excited for Wednesday.
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spaceagebachelormann · 2 years ago
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being best friends with the st. cassian chamber choir members would include…
pairings: st. cassian chamber choir x gn reader
warnings: me struggling to find good gifs, ocean being a mediocre friend, ricky being weird, no genuine warnings,
masterlist
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Ocean O’Connell Rosenburg
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refuses to let you read smut
if you bring it up she starts screaming and throwing stuff at you and begging you not to read smut
she still treats you horribly, but like it’s not as horrible as the way she treats everyone else
has somehow read every shakespeare play, and talks to you about them for hours
FORGETS YOU AT WALMART
when you get mad at her for forgetting you she just assumes your joking
physically affectionate with her friends but it’s a lot more frequent with you
while your walking she’ll just wrap an arm around your shoulders or grab your wrist gently like it’s nothing
when you have sleepovers she goes to sleep at 9pm and throws pillows at you if you stay up later than her
helps you with classes your struggling with, for a price.
by that i mean she just asks you to buy her some food and that’s it
kind of a bad friend but she has good intentions
tells you EVERYTHING
there isn’t anything she knows that you don’t know
BONUS:
Ocean: Y/N and I have the chemistry where we finish eachothers-
Y/N: sentences
Ocean: don’t interrupt me.
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Noel Gruber
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oh my GOD
you definitely got suspended with him for breaking into that bible thing
you said the erection thing
also you guys definitely still laugh about it
brainstorming insults with eachother
most of which are used on ocean
forces you to listen to french music
threatens you with his hairbrush over the littlest things
it’s actually quite scary
you get to hear all about monique gibeau all THE TIME
he’s a surprisingly good storyteller and he likes when you’re on the edge of your seat listening to him talk about experiences he’s been through
working at taco bell with him
it’s scary
BONUS:
Y/N: i turned out perfectly fine!
Noel: Y/N, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast
Y/N: I DIDNT PUT THE BREAD IN, YOU DIDNT PUT THE BREAD IN.
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Mischa Bachinski
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your conversations with him are one of you just rambling on and on about things and the other one listening
when he’s rambling it’s about talia
not even you know if she’s real or not
you decide not to ask
oh yeah also he’s offered you alcohol atleast 2048 times, usually once a week
your also rlly good friends with noel
it’s a trio thing
but your still mischas bsf
once he grows rlly comfortable with you it’s scary guard dog privileges
like will fr bark at anyone giving you a hard time
ALSO HES HELLA FUNNY
and says the most random shit with no context at all
it rubs off on you
a horrible influence
BONUS:
mischa: *breaks window and climbs through it*
mischa: *helps Y/N through window*
mischa: Y/N, breaking and entering is bad.
Y/N: okay
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Ricky Potts
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listening to him talk about zolar
well his talking is either him passing you notes with hella information on it or him using asl
i feel like in his mind you would have a zolarian based off of you but like not one of the sexy catwomen, just a zolarian who was an important role in his story
also rlly funny
cracks the most random jokes at the most random times
doesn’t sleep until 4am
seems innocent but isn’t
you have to deal with all of the above
imagine learning asl to talk to him instead of using paper and a pen <33
big cat person and his cats are so used to you that sometimes they just show up on your doorstep
sends you analog horror and laughs when your afraid the next time you see him
BONUS:
Ricky: so whats for dinner?
Y/N, staring at the food they just burnt: regret.
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Jane Doe/Penny Lamb
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randomly info dumps to you
oh also i think she’d like brushing your hair
a big dog person and you have to settle arguments between her and ricky over if cats or dogs are better
sends you dogs at 4am
oh also i think she’d be rlly good at painting nails for some reason and at random times she’d just take your hand and start painting your nails
speaks her mind BUUUUT that’s not always a bad thing
^^ randomly compliments you for example
BONUS:
Y/N: im a reverse necromancer
Jane/Penny: isnt that just killing people? Y/N: ah, technality
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Constance Blackwood
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rlly honest with you
it’s very helpful
also she checks up on you
such a good friend
i love her
teaches you how to play recorder
and kazoo
you create musical chaos with her
everyone finds it annoying except ricky cause personal head canon that he likes weird music
BONUS:
Constance: i know your deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are
Y/N: it’s not a joke
Y/N: *sniffles*
Y/N, voice cracking: i’m a legit snack.
232 notes · View notes
gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago
Text
Accidentally Injuring Their Partner PT. 2
Part One Here
Y’all- the last one is like, my most popular post. As I’m currently writing this, it’s literally almost at 1K notes so... yeah. This one needed a lot of thought and effort if it’s going to meet people’s expectations. 
Please read the note I added at the end of the fic
Genre: angst
Type: drabbleshot
Warnings: gore, mentions of hospitals, crying, cursing, toxic relationships, self blame, some real ‘who cares how I feel, how do you feel?’ kind of unhealthy vibes, hazbin hotel reference (found in Todoroki’s section), talking down on oneself,
Other: this was requested multiple times, but this bitch was planning it before it was requested haha I’m so cool no I’m not I still feel like shit lmao. 
Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore
Tomura Shigaraki
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It was really all he could do to stare at you.
You’d moved from the theatre to an abandonment hospital, mostly to find any leftover supplies to help with your arm, or rather, lack thereof.
You’d only sort of expected this. Tomura lashing out at you, you getting hurt, you just didn’t expect it to result in you loosing a fucking arm.
Toga was helping to change your bandages, and Magne was speaking quietly with Twice, Spinner, and Compress.
Dabi was speaking with Shigaraki outside the room, and you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were glad, you didn’t exactly want to hear his voice right now.
You didn’t think you were being that annoying, you thought you were just helping him. And you usually did. When he’d have his little tantrums, he’d get upset at you sure, but he’d never hurt you.
You knew you didn’t do anything differently than usual, maybe he was just more stressed than ordinary? Maybe you should’ve recognized that and altered yourself to fit accordingly.
Or maybe he’d just been horrible, and attacked you for no reason, and you had just been trying to help him.
You knew it was more likely the latter, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. People don’t just try to kill their partners that they love so much
The door slid open, and Dabi stepped in. He glanced around the room, waving his hand to usher Magne, Spinner, Twice, and Compress out of the room. Today stood up, but you grabbed her hand.
Dabi pushed the door open a little wider, and your boyfriend stepped inside. For once, you were glad he had that horrible hand in his face, you knew that if he took it off you’d probably vomit.
“Call us in if you need anything.” Dabi offered uncharacteristically, sliding the door shut behind him.
Everything was quiet.
Not even the people in the hallway wanted to say anything.
He slowly walked towards you, pulling up a chair and sitting down.
You sat cross-legged on the creaky hospital bed, staring at him as Toga held your hand.
“Why are you here?” You asked quietly.
“I- I um. Why is she here?” Tomura ignored your question, pointing to Toga next to you.
“She’s here because she chopped off my arm after you dusted it. She’s here because she saved my life. Why are you here, Tomura?”
One of his hands lifted to his neck, scratching lightly.
“Shit- I didn’t want anyone else in here-“
“Why not? Don’t want anyone to see you loose yourself and hurt me more? Don’t want anyone here to save me?” You snapped.
“You- you know I didn’t mean it-“
“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not, Shigaraki.” He flinched away when you spat out his last name like that. “I still got hurt. I lost a fucking arm because of you. How horrible are you that you have to cover up your own insecurities by trying to kill me? No really, I could have died.”
“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, nails digging deeper into his neck. “I love you, okay? And I promised I’d protect you so-“
“So you broke your promise in the worst way possible.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed, squeezing Toga’s hand before letting go. You walked up to Shigaraki, lifting your hand and gripping his shoulder tightly.
“I’m going.” You whispered. “I can’t be around you. I still have family outside the League, friends that aren’t villains. I can build myself a semi-normal life. I’ll be happy without you.” You turned back to Toga, offering her a smile. “You can come over whenever you want, you’re my friend.” You headed towards the door.
You paused when you heard a soft noise, like a gargled scream. You turned around, seeing Shigaraki shaking.
“No, no please no- don’t go!” He spun around, grabbing your shoulders. You shoved him off you in an instant, curling into yourself
“GET OFF ME!” You screamed. But he was already launching himself at you again, you saw his palm flying towards your face. This time, it wasn’t an accident.
And you knew you wouldn’t make it out this time.
You were pulled back by a strong force, realizing Magne was holding you tight. Compress and Dabi were on either side of Shigaraki, holding him back, while Twice had ran to Toga.
“No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t leave me!” He screamed, the hand fell loose on his face, tumbling down to the floor. You turned away, not wanting to see him.
You could only imagine his expression.
“Goodbye, Shigaraki.” You whispered, ducking out of Magne’s grip and rubbing off.
“Goodbye.”
Touya Todoroki/ Dabi
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It had been a week since he’d seen you, a week since he’d felt your hands on his. A week since he’d heard your voice. A week since he’d seen your smile.
A week since he’d burned you.
Called you inferior.
Threatened to kill you.
Well there was certainly a reason why he hadn’t gone to see you since the incident.
But...
He missed you.
He felt so guilty, knowing what he’d said and done to you, and he needed to see you.
Maybe he was just being selfish.
Maybe he knew he’d done something wrong.
Maybe he needed to call you.
He flipped his phone upside down, then right side up again on the counter of the bar.
Toga sat on a stool next to him, tapping her hands against the marble in boredom.
“So... what’s up with you?” She asked, cocking her head and glancing at him.
“Like I’m telling a brat like you.” He growled, flipping his phone over again.
“You’ve been off all week!” She exclaimed, leaning towards him. “Somethings happened to you.”
“If i tells you a little, will you shut up?”
“Mhm mhm!”
“Ughhhhh fine. I had a fight with someone close to me. I... I really hurt them. I know it. I haven’t spoken to them in a week.”
“So... Dabi has a soft spot?”
“That’s not the point of this. Also say that again and I’ll kill you.”
“Oookay then. You should just call them. Say something to them and apologize.” She offered with a shrug.
Dabi sighed, pressing his face into his hands.
“They don’t want to talk to me. Trust me on that.”
“Welp- that’s just my advice. Cent for my thoughts kind of thing except you didn’t pay me. You owe me a penny.”
Toga shrugged, hopping off the chair and leaving the room.
“Don’t owe you shit.” Dabi grumbled, glowering down at his phone again. He pulled up your contact, staring at the picture he’d set for you.
You had a bright smile, emoji hearts decorating your cheeks. It was from your first ‘date.’ When you’d hung out at your place after he broke in looking for shelter and food.
You’d taken care of him, let his spend the night, and even offered to let him stay whenever he needed to.
You were an Angel on earth.
And he’d burnt you.
Called you dirty.
And selfish.
You were anything but.
Ring
Ring
Ring
“Why the hell are you calling me?”
“I-“
“Dabi. Why are you calling me? You hate me, don’t you?”
“I don’t hate you...”
“Jeez, coulda fooled me.”
“Baby...”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I- I didn’t mean it.” He choked out. “Everything I said, I didn’t mean it. And I-“
“I really don’t care. The doctors said my arms would scar. I’m burnt and scarred like you. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to achieve? Make me like you so that no one would want me? So that only you could have me?”
Yes
“No! I never wanted to hurt you, ba- Y/n please,”
“Please what? Please what, Dabi? What do you want from me? Huh? You want me to cradle you and say is all going to be okay? You want me to kiss your scars and tell you you’re beautiful? You want me to suck your dick and tell you I love you? After everything you’ve put me through?”
“I-“
“It’s not just you burning me. You’ve left me for days without contact, and then showed up like nothing’s happened! You’ve hit me and then groveled and cried for my mercy! You’ve made me do so much shit for you in bed that I never wanted to do! Our entire relationship, I was scared you’d get sick of me and kill me!”
“You really thought that?”
“Well guess what motherfucker? You can’t come after me! I’ve told the police what happened. Everything between us. They’re helping me move across the country. You’ll never see me again. Happy?”
“No. No no I’m not happy why would I be happy? You made me happy, when I didn’t even know what the word meant, you don’t have to go through with this, please don’t go through with this!”
“Don’t flatter me. I never made you happy. Nothing could make you happy except watching the world burn. I don’t make you happy, Dabi-“
“Yes you do!”
“Just shut up. I’m going to hang up. If I’m being honest... I’ll miss you. You made me happy. But with so much anger and fear surrounding you, it’s hard to even remember the last time we were happy together.”
“I’m... I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Beep
Beep
Beep
You were gone.
Shouto Todoroki
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If you thought Shouto was quiet before, you should see him now, wait, you were seeing him now, in class, eyes boring into your spine.
You still had a large bandage on your face, being hit in the face with plus added fire power is bound to leave a mark that lasts for over three days.
Did I mention it had been three days now?
It’s very hard to ignore Shouto, seeing as you were in the same class and lived in the same dorms. 
Plus everyone in class wanted to know what happened between the two of you, why Shouto seemed so down, why you had the bandage on your face, and if it was all connected.
You’d only told one person what had gone down between the two of you, and that was Bakugou.
Which maybe was a mistake, because he took to trying to fight Todoroki every time he saw him, and repeatedly told you that he ‘fuckin knew that icy-hot bastard was a good-for-nothing bag of of poorly packaged horse shit.’
You appreciated his comfort, but it hurt you every time he said something about Todoroki.
“I don’t get why you’re defending the scumbag. His hand hasn’t even healed off your face yet!” 
You and Bakugou were heading to the dorms after class, and he had gone on his usual tangent about how Todoroki did this, Todoroki did that, Todoroki was an asshole, etc etc.
“I mean... he’s technically still my boyfriend. And he’s been nothing but kind to me up until this point. He just... he was stressed, and I was being a bother. I’m sure the injury will fade at some point, then he’ll talk to me again and we can get back to normal.” you shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck. “We’ll be fine.”
“You know what you are? A pushover.” Bakugou glared at you. 
“Wha- I am not! Where did you get that idea?” 
“Oh I don’t know, maybe from the fact that You forget to check in with how you feel and keep thinking only about that Half n Half bastard! ‘Oh, he must be so upset with himself!’ Fuck that! How do you feel?” 
You kept your eyes on the ground, speeding up. Bakugou grabbed your sleeve, tugging you backwards. His hands found your shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles. Your breath hitched, did Shouto ever do this for you? 
Not that you could remember.
“I feel... nervous.” you admitted. “I’m nervous that he meant what he said to me. That I’m nothing but a bother to him. I’m nervous that he’ll never come and talk to me, never apologize. I’m worried that if he does talk to me, he’ll think it was my fault. It wasn’t was it?”
You looked up at Bakugou warily, and squeaked when he tightened his grip on your shoulders.
“The fuck? Of course it’s not! Idiot.” he poked your forehead, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Keep talking.”
“Um... I’m...” you took a deep breath. “I’m angry. I’m angry that he hasn’t talked to me. I’m angry about what he said. I’m angry that he even hit me to begin with. If we were training, of course it’d be different, but we weren’t training. And he hurt me. And now I’m doubting everything between us.”
Bakugou was silent, Cardinal eyes met yours. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a moment, you feared Bakugou would try to blow your ass up for being a pathetic little weakling.
I mean... compared to people like Todoroki and Bakugou, you were right?
Bakugou took a step forward, pulling you into his arms. You held your breath, wondering if he was going to finally snap and kill you. 
But... it felt nice. 
You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his body and tugging him a little closer. You buried your face into his uniform shirt, body shaking a little as you cried.
You almost wanted to scream, but then the school would panic.
So you just cried, sobbing into his arms and letting him hold you. His embrace was war and comforting, nothing like you’d felt from your so-called boyfriend.
Maybe he was right, maybe you really shouldn’t try to think about him.
You did deserve better.
You sniffled, pulling off Bakugou with a soft smile.
“Thanks, Bakugou. I really needed that. And you’re right.”
“What was that second thing?”
“You’re right.”
“Hmmm?” Bakugou cupped a hand around his ear, feigning deafness.
“Oh my goodness- I said you’re right!”
“That’s it.” he patted you on the shoulder, proud smirk traced across his features. You chuckled. “Now you’re going to tell that to Mr. Daddy Issues and get the fuck over him.” 
“Alright, but you’re coming with me!” he nodded, keeping his hand on your shoulder as you returned to the dorms, heading to his dorm.
You paused just outside his door, knocking lightly. Bakugou was a few feet behind you, out of the way, but close enough to step in if something were to happen.
The door swung open slowly, revealing a bored-looking Todoroki. WHen his eyes landed on you, he jumped a little, taking a step back. His hand tightened around the doorknob, his other hand gripping his pants
“Y-Y/n-“ he stuttered, eyes flickering between you and Bakugou. “I-“
“We need to talk.”
“Listen I- I’m sorry!” He exclaimed.
“Todoroki, I don’t think you get it. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it. You might have scarred me, so your one mistake might stay with me my whole life!”
“I know.” His head drooped, and his grip on his pants loosened. “I know. I’m- I’m just like him.”
“Him?”
“I promised I was nothing like him but here we fucking are!”
“Shoto what are you talking about?”
“I’m the worst kind of person!”
“No!”
Shouto looked up, eyes brimming with tears. You took a few steps forward, taking his face into your hands.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered “it was an accident, and you didn’t mean it. Please don’t talk about yourself like that.”
Bakugou grabbed you, yanking you away from him
“Uh, what the fuck? You came here to sever ties with him, not fucking comfort him!”
“Look at him, Bakugou. He needs me.”
“Y/n-“
“Trust me.” You smiled at Bakugou, pushing him away from you slowly before turning back to Shouto. You took the boy into your arms, rocking back and forth with him.
You ignored the heavy feeling in your chest, and the screams your brain slew ar you to get off of him, get away from him, and let Bakugou protect you.
You ignored logic, emotion, and all better judgement.
For this boy who’d hit you.
But Bakugou would end up being right, he was smart.
You’ll see.
Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight
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Shit wrong Pomeranian
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That’s better
Katsuki stood outside Recovery Girl’s room, waiting for Kirishima to come out and tell him what was going on.
He was chewing on his nails, foot tapping against the ground as he stared at the door. He could hear people moving around and talking inside.
He couldn’t get the sound of your screaming out of his head, the large dark patch that formed on your skin around your face, the way you just... fell.
The door slid open, and Bakugou stared forward and Kirishima stepped out, smiling and thanking Recovery Girl.
Bakugou was on his feet in an instant, grabbing Kirishima’s arm.
“How are they? Do they hate me? Can I see them?” He rambled, Kirishima gently pushing Bakugou off him.
“Uh, they’re fine for the most part, they haven’t said anything about you at all, and ask Recovery Girl.” He said, backing off down the hall as Bakugou stared helplessly after him.
“You uh- you might want to apologize. They are really upset.” Kirishima told him, quickly running off down the hall. Bakugou faced towards the room, stepping inside.
A cyan curtain blocked him from seeing you, and he heard shuffling behind it. It slid open, Recovery Girl stepping out. She looked up and saw Bakugou.
She wacked his leg with her needle/cane, and he yelped, stumbling backwards.
“You have no shame!” she snapped. “With what you did to them, you should be cowering outside right now!”
“Shhh!” Bakugou pressed up against the wall. “Do you want them to know I’m here?”
“Are you that clueless?” she grumbled, pulling herself up into her chair. “They’ve gone temporarily deaf.” Bakugou froze, glancing back at the curtain.
He’d blown up your eardrums.
He felt Recovery Girl press something into his hands, and he glanced down. 
It was a small whiteboard, with a pen and washcloth.
This was how he’d have to talk to you.
On a fucking whiteboard.
RG pulled the curtains aside, revealing you.
You were laying in the bed, half your face wrapped up in bandages, hands resting on your lap.
“Y/n...” he murmured. You remained still, staring out the window. Bakugou cleared his throat, and you still didn’t react.
“They can’t hear you, remember?” RG shook her head, waddling over to the other side of your bed, pointing at Bakugou. He watched your face slowly turn, before his eyes shot away from you, staring at the ground.
He heard you swallow, and you let out a soft whimper.
Were you scared of him?
Bakugou lifted the whiteboard, quickly scribbling some kanji on it 
ごめんなさい (Translation: I am sorry)
You reached forward, taking the whiteboard from him and erasing his words, putting your own down instead.
分かってる。(Translation: I know)
Bakugou pursed his lips, fidgeting with his shirt before he watched you put more writing down
どうして?(Translation: Why?)
Bakugou reached out, taking the whiteboard back, quickly putting down his excuse explanation
私は弱いと感じました。 じゃあ霧島を助けてくれたんだ。 うらやましくなってきた (Translation: I felt weak. Then you helped Kirishima. I got Jealous)
お許しください (Translation: Please forgive me.)
He handed you the whiteboard back, tapping his foot against the ground. You passed it back to him, and he hurridly read your response.
私はそれについて考えます (Translation: I’ll think about it.)
He had a chance. His eyes finally lifted off the whiteboard, landing on you.
The visible part of your face looked exactly the same, although there was a large bandage on your ear. Your eye looked sad, fearful, and nervous. You had a shaky smile on your face, trying to make him feel better.
You were always thinking about him.
それは再び起こらないだろう (Translation: It won’t happen again)
You sighed, smile falling.
本気?(Translation: Are you sure?)
Bakugou felt his heart drop into his stomach.
Well of fucking course you didn’t trust him, look what he’d done to you!
おっしゃる通りです。. もうお前を放っておいてやる さようなら、y/n。(Translation: You are right. I will leave you alone now. Goodbye, y/n.)
He stood up, leaving the whiteboard on your bed. He headed towards the door, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ignored the soft cry of your voice, surprised he was leaving.
He ignored the way you managed to choke out his name in a warbly, unsure voice.
He slid the door shut behind him, slumping against it and sliding down until he sat on the cold ground. He buried his face into his arms, finally allowing himself to cry.
He wasn’t going to try and talk to you, he resolved. He wasn’t going to bother you or scare you.
He’d keep you safe by refusing to talk to him.
He’d let the author end the fanfiction right then and there.
The door slid open behind him, and he flopped backwards, staring up at your face. You were holding the whiteboard.
オマンコにならないでください。 事故だったのは分かってる 頑張って俺を捕まえるのか諦めるのか? どんなヒーローがあきらめるだろうか?
(Translation: Don't be a pussy. I know it was an accident. Are you going to work hard and get me or give up? What kind of hero would just give up?)
A smirk slowly spread across his face. Yeah, he’d work hard. He’d never scare you or hurt you again. He’d do better.
He’d be the best boyfriend.
And he’d accept your help to stand up next to you.
=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=
After fic note: ohmygod I’m finally finished. This took fucking forever. You loved part one so much, I had to make sure part two was perfect.
Some of these ended in heartbreak
Another ended in a questionable descision
The last ended happily
All of them are different! 
I hope you get my references, and appreciate the Japanese Kanji I put in Bakugou’s part (if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can try my best to fix it. I don’t speak or write Japanese, I used this translator to get what I needed). 
I worked hard on this, so if y’all could tell me what you like and dislike about this so I can improve my writing, that would be lovely. Don’t be afraid to pop a comment or pop into my ask box, I do my best to respond to every comment and ask, so don’t worry about being ignored.
I love all of you, and I’m so glad to be able to write for you.
Thanks for all of your support, I promise I’ll work hard on all of my drafts to make sure you get entertainment constantly! 
5K notes · View notes