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xsteriism · 5 years ago

Note

Good luck on your exams!!!! And WELL DONE ON GETTING 30O FOLLOWERS YOU DESERVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM!!!!! I have a prompt if you wanna do it? Peter likes to take a lotta photos but doesn't tell anyone and one day Tony finds his camera and it's full of all these amazing pictures of himself and the ironfam and ned and MJ and loads of other pretty things so he buys him a camera and one day Tony gets a picture of everyone asleep and hangs it up! Do it if you want!! Good luck with everything! 💕

hello!! im SO SO sorry i took so long to write this prompt, i havent been feeling myself lately, but i wanted to write something after two months, so here!

i would like to tag @technically-a-little-dragon because i hope this makes you smile :) and @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad because you always support me!

(click on the title to read on ao3)

——

Peter’s Camera

——

Tony is one of the best people to photograph, in Peter’s opinion. Once the genius gets into the mood, there isn’t much that can be done to stop or distract him, which makes him the perfect candidate to photograph. Peter has gotten snaps of him where sparks are surrounding him as if he’s some kind of angel descending from heaven or where he’s sleeping peacefully after days of intense creating, with Dum-e prodding him but to get no reaction in return.

Peter got the camera from Ben as a birthday present, a small second-hand Canon camera. It was old, a little broken, but with his genius brain and some stray parts he found in a dumpster, Peter managed to fix it within a night. However, it was at the expense of neglecting his homework, which he had to rush through the next morning. He didn’t care if the camera had buttons that weren’t working or if it glitched at the worst timings— the camera was Peter’s camera, gifted by his Uncle Ben, and that was all that mattered.

The camera rarely left Peter’s being since he got it, so it was usually always accessible. After he became Spiderman, Peter would bring it on patrol, taking scenic pictures of the city or himself in action. He takes pictures of anything and everything and has to transfer the pictures to his computer every month because of how quickly he fills the memory card.

Maybe it was because he didn’t talk about it, or maybe it was because he only took pictures of people when they weren’t looking, but nobody has found out about his hobby yet. He isn’t ashamed of it, just doesn’t see the need to talk about it when he already has so many things going on in his life. Peter wouldn’t deny it if someone found out about it someday, but for now, he likes that photography is his little secret.

——

Tony isn’t sure what he’s looking at.

Is that a camera from the 1970s? Do those still exist? What on earth is this doing in his lab?

Frowning unconsciously, he picks the camera up, feeling it in his hands, examining it like some specimen. Just as he’s about to put the camera down and leave it, his finger brushes over a button, showing the pictures in the memory card. Eyes widening with mild shock, Tony clicks through the pictures of his family.

He sees himself, surrounded by tools, the light illuminating his face, making him seem otherworldly. He smiles at the picture of Ned, in which he’s grinning at Lego, with his face stuffed full with food. He huffs out a laugh when a picture of Harley teaching Morgan how to use his potato guns pops up and snorts when a picture of MJ smiling softly at a bird shows up. The billionaire snickers at the pictures of Pepper, who looks like the CEO she is as she glares at Clint and Scott or when she’s reprimanding grown adults (see: The Avengers) about safety and rules.

Tony lets out a tiny gasp when he sees Natasha, the notorious Black Widow, smiling softly at a kitten. He chuckles lowly when the picture of Thor, on the verge of tears at the sight of a mouse, appears. And he smirks when he sees Bruce, who looked like he was in the middle of panicking, with a wildly out-of-control specimen in the background. He beams as he sees Bucky and Steve, roleplaying a scene in a book to Morgan, who has a wide grin on her chubby face.

All these pictures, yet not one of Peter. Could it be that… this camera was his?

Of course, it’s his. Whose else could it be?

Tony sets the camera back onto the table, dialling Happy as he exits the lab.

“Let’s go camera shopping.”

——

“Boss, where do you even find the time for photography?” Happy asks as he begrudgingly follows Tony into the camera shop. Why was he always dragged into stuff he didn’t want to do? Better yet, since when did Tony like photography?

Tony rolls his eyes, not that Happy could see. “You wouldn’t get it. Now, which camera do you think is best?”

Happy gapes at the billionaire, looking to and from between Tony and the cameras on display. “How would I— Why would you think—”

“Oh, look at this… Leica S… Typ 007?” Tony sounds unsure— unusual, but not unexpected since this was something he wasn’t familiar with. “What? What does this mean?”

Based on what he knows, this camera is for Peter. Tony cares about him so much that he’d willingly go out to buy him stuff and risk himself running into paparazzi. Sighing in resignation, Happy glances through the specs and the prices of the cameras because Tony obviously wouldn’t and if he accidentally buys a $27k camera, then Peter will definitely freak out.

“Boss, look at the price,” Happy sighs again, “do you really think Peter would accept this?”

Tony almost had whiplash from how fast he turned his head to face Happy at the sound of Peter’s name. “How did you know I was getting this for the kid?”

Happy rolls his eyes, walking past the nervous saleswoman who had been staring at them with a wobbly smile for the entire time they’ve been at the store. He picks up a relatively light camera, something he knows Peter would like and shows it to Tony. The clueless billionaire takes the camera, inspecting it as if he knows everything about it and nods approvingly.

——

Tony isn’t going to lie. He’s a little excited and a little nervous— something completely new from what he usually feels when gifting. He did snoop around in his camera, after all.

Jumping a little when the doors to his lab open suddenly, Tony tightly clutches the box in his hands, forcing himself to face the sweet, sweet teenager and hopes he won’t get mad.

“Hello, Mr Stark!” Peter greets with a chirp in his voice, beaming at the billionaire. “So, I was thinking about some updates I want to do for the—”

Tony interrupts him before the kid can immerse him into his ideas as well. “Pete, I have something for you.”

Innocent, brown eyes bore into his and Tony offers him a nervous smile. He beckons Peter over with a wave of his hand and forces the wrapped box into small arms. The teen cocks his head to one side, looking at him in mild confusion and all Tony’s thinking is, ‘why is he so cute?’

He motions for him to open his very impromptu gift, uncharacteristically wringing his hands in anticipation. Peter gently undoes the tape holding the wrapping paper in place, unwrapping it diligently, unlike how it was wrapped.

“Mr— Mr Stark!” Peter splutters as soon as he sees the camera. “This— isn’t this too much? You already give me an allowance on top of my salary as an intern. I can’t—”

Tony grins, secretly happy that Peter isn’t angry with him for snooping around and discovering his secret. He frowns playfully, sitting on his hands so that the teen wouldn’t be able to force his gift back. “Well, your camera is an ancient relic, and we can’t have that in my very futuristic house, now can we? Besides, why didn’t you get a new one if you had the money?”

Peter smiles, a little forlorn, a little reminiscent. “Uncle Ben gave me that camera and I just never really thought of upgrading it.”

“Hey,” the billionaire holds back a wince at the mention of Ben, knowing it was a sensitive topic. “You can display the camera in your room, no need to get rid of it. Heck, I’ll even make a glass display box for it if you want.”

The teenager smiles again, this time a little brighter, happier. He hugs the camera to his chest, before shyly thanking Tony, as if the billionaire checked the price before paying for it.

A few weeks later, after Family Friday Night, Tony finds a printed picture of the whole family— Avengers and Non-Avengers alike— sleeping in the makeshift blanket fort, on his table. And if he encases it with a handmade frame, hanging it up where everybody can see, then it’s nobody’s business but his.

——

please ❤️ if you liked it! comment if you want? follow me for more, i guess?

#marvel #irondad #spiderson #soft #Send prompts #fluff #Peter Parker fluff #tony stark fluff #celestial-irondad

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

Text

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 2.3

Sorry this was a little later than usual. I was out of the house.

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Two – Aboard This Tiny Ship – Part 3 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2

Author: Gumnut

18 - 23 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 4029

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.

Mentions of ship in this bit, but only in discussion. There may be more later (that I haven’t written yet :D)

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Gordon told him it was unnecessary, but John didn’t agree. He had a brother deployed, it was his job to keep an eye on him. Besides, he hadn’t spoken to Eos for nearly twenty-four hours.

He sat down at the same table Gordon had been using for his fish studies. “Eos, can you relay Gordon’s mission stats down to my tablet? Also, I need seismic readings, wildlife mapping and all the latest observational data for the volcanics around the caldera.”

“Hello, John.”

“Hello, Eos. How are you?”

“Functional.” A pause. “A bit bored.”

Oh no. “What have you been doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Eos!”

“You should have seen them. They were so poor. They were almost starving.”

“What did you do?”

“I saved them.”

“How?”

“They won the lottery.”

“You rigged a lottery? How? They are all manual.”

“I have my ways.”

“Who did you bribe?”

“I didn’t bribe anyone.”

“Who did you blackmail?”

“Honestly, he wasn’t a very nice man anyway.”

John closed his eyes. Thank god Scott was on the other side of the boat helping Alan load up the dingy.

Virgil sat on the lounge opposite staring at him.

“Eos doesn’t like injustice very much.”

His brother arched an eyebrow.

“Eos, we will discuss this later. Deploy the mission to my tablet. Oh, and can you move Gordon’s sensor buoy into range so we can sharpen our reception. Thank you.”

Virgil’s eyebrow was still arched.

“You know if you leave it that way long enough, the wind will change and you will become permanently half Vulcan.”

His brother ignored him. “We will discuss this later, John. Scott hears about it and the shit will hit the fan.”

“Yes, I know.” Scott would likely always be sensitive where Eos was concerned. John had to tread lightly.

Turning to his tablet, he brought up the sensor relay from the buoy and propelled it to one side of the table. Gordon’s vitals, followed by Four’s telemetry were deployed to another corner, followed by a submarine map of the area.

“What is that?”

John jumped as Virgil sat down beside him and pointed at the map. “Is that the caldera?”

“Yes.” John swiped at his tablet and brought up the necessary information. “The island itself is only a fragment of the volcano.”

“That’s considerably bigger than our caldera. When did it last erupt?”

“It’s still active.”

“What?! We just sent Gordon down there.”

John stared at Virgil and wondered if his brother had been taking painkillers and was loopy as a result. “Gordon knows what he is doing.”

Virgil ran a hand over his face and sighed. “Yeah, I know. Just with his accident...”

“He’ll be fine. We are just looking at hydrothermal vents in this case. There is no lava field down there. It shouldn’t take much time to replace the sensor as long as he doesn’t get distracted.”

“Distracted? Gordon?”

“Hmmm, yeah. You have a point.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon was in heaven.

Well, if heaven had this many starfish and in Gordon’s book, it definitely did. Clustered around the heat generating hydrothermal vents, the patches and swarms of specialised life down here were amazing to see. He had read several studies on the ecosystems of the Kermadec chain, but it was always a wonder to see them thriving like this in the darkness.

The caldera was massive. He knew the geological history of the Kermadec chain. They all did as Tracy Island was technically part of it. He knew it had a habit of exploding quite regularly and this caldera was no different, various child cones spewing forth hydrothermal concoctions. It had last blown up quite spectacularly over 6000 years ago, collapsing what used to be a much larger island into this undersea ring of vents.

The heat supported scores of mussels, farmed by starfish and the occasional white crab. He had done a lot of diving around Tracy Island, but that underseascape was considerably different. Higher water temperatures and a dead volcano produced a different ecosystem to what Macauley supported.

Four’s spots lit up the underwater mountain range, volcanic remnants were scattered across the sea floor. The sensor bank was closest to one of the dominant cones to the north-west of the island, placed there specifically to monitor the active spot. The moment he approached it, he knew exactly what the problem was.

“Thunderbird Four to Raoul.”

“Raoul receiving. Thunderfish, did you get your ‘bird out just for me? I thought you were on vacation.”

“Eh, I owe you one.” If he was honest, coasting about the waterline for a couple days without the facility to drop below it at will had left him a little longing for the depths. “I found your sensor problem.”

“Yeah, what do we have?”

“A brand new baby hydrothermal vent right on top of the sensor bank”

“Again? That’s the third this year.”

Gordon frowned. “This happens a lot?”

“You bet your ass it does. This whole bloody volcanic chain does what it bloody wants. Hell, Giggenbach just a little north-west of Macauley threw a fit just last year and dumped a pile of rubble on all our sensor equipment. I’m lucky Tracy Industries continues to provide me with new supplies or I would have had to close up shop years ago. The Kermadecs eat sensors for breakfast.”

“So, what did you want me to do?”

“You got one of those temporary seismic monitors?”

“Not on Four, but Two stocks vibration sensors.”

“Sensitive enough to catch a below 0.0001?”

“I’ll send you the specs. Virgil would be the one to confirm.”

“Really?”

“Be kind to him, Mel. He’s not at his best.”

“Would I do anything to hurt such a gorgeous man?”

“Mel.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk nice to the dark-haired hunk.”

“Mel.”

“What?”

-o-o-o-

Alan eyed Virgil as he made his way down the side of the yacht, one arm clutched to his belly. He hated it when his older brothers were injured. It always shook his foundations.

Sure, Alan was an adult, he could handle it, but his eldest brothers had pretty much been his parents for half his life and seeing one them taken down by a medical condition, even one as paltry as appendicitis, struck a nerve.

It didn’t help that Gordon had been so sick, so injured, so recently. To only just have him back in the air and for Virgil to fall out of the sky like that.

It was scary.

“Alan, you okay?”

Scott was standing in the little inflatable dingy, waiting for Alan to hand him the heat cube equipment. The plan was to have a ‘bonfire’ dinner on the beach without the actual bonfire. Gordon’s description of what the Director at Raoul would do to them if they lit a fire on one of her islands was graphic and to the point. So, heat cube it was.

The marshmallows never quite tasted the same.

He shrugged. “Should Virgil be doing that?”

His eldest brother glanced over to where Virgil was making his way in their direction. “As long as he isn’t over doing it, he should be okay.” Scott stared up at him. “He’s going to be fine, Alan.”

Alan grimaced and turned back to watching Virgil slowly approach. He could still hear his brother groaning on that hover stretcher as Gordon maxed out Two’s engines to get them across the Tasman Sea.

A hand touched his arm and he jumped a little. Scott was back on the yacht beside him, earnest blue eyes trying to pin him down. “He is going to be fine.”

Alan sighed. “I know. I guess he just scared me.” A swallow. “For a second there, all I could think was that Virg was going to be as sick as Gords, or worse, and it...it terrified me.”

An arm wrapped around his shoulders and Alan suddenly felt twelve again, big brother Scott ever looking after him. “He scared all of us, but he is recovering. A couple of weeks and he’ll be back on Two nagging Gordon, a month and you won’t even know he was ill.

“It could have been worse.”

“It wasn’t.” Scott squeezed his shoulder and as Virgil finally made it the last few steps into hearing range, challenged the convalescent. “And what do you think you are doing out here?”

“Just checking out what you two are up to.” Virgil leant on the railing.

“We are preparing a feast for your senses, little brother, and you are not lifting a finger. Alan and I will be your heavy lifters for this dining experience.”

Virgil grunted at his brother.

Alan grinned, hiding his thoughts. “Hey, bro, take the opportunity for what it is and just sit back and relax.”

A lopsided half smile and a mumbled, “Not sure I know how to do that.” Virgil leant both of his elbows on the railing and stared up at the island cliffs looming over them. Alan had to admit, for a tiny chunk of volcano, it was pretty damn big.

“You could always ask Alan for some instruction.” Scott was grinning.

“Hey!” But the twinkle in his brother’s eyes made it clear it was all in jest. “Just because I find efficiencies in everything I do.”

And it was Virgil’s turn to grin and reach out to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

Sometimes being the youngest of five had its challenges. Over protective and mother-henning older brothers was one of them. Half the challenge was working out whether he should accept the gestures or stand more securely on his own two feet.

Considering they were isolated, in the middle of nowhere and his brother had recently scared the shit out of him, he was inclined to accept any and all reassurances.

“You okay, Alan?” Dark eyes and brows were peering at him. Oh, for the love of...

He shouldered off Virgil’s arm and grabbed the heat cube equipment. “Are we packing this before or after sunset?”

Scott rolled his eyes and stepped back into the dingy while Virgil frowned at Alan even more.” I’m fine, Virgil. You’re the one who has the holes in his gut.”

“I’m fine.” It was automatic and defensive.

Scott snorted as Alan handed him a crate.

Hmm, maybe he wasn’t the only one being mother-henned.

-o-o-o-

As afternoon waned and evening moved in, the sun lit up the west side of the island in sharp white gold, riddled with the emerald green of recovering forest. The huge cliffs that ringed the volcanic remnant were a stark mixture of pale tephra and black basalt, an echo of a volcano that had had many moods in its relatively short life.

It was a dramatic background to their rather everyday activities.

Gordon surfaced with little fuss. Mel contacted Virgil and he arranged for Kayo to bring some vibration sensors when she came back to collect Four. Gordon was stunned to discover Virgil addressed her as Ms Fisher. What the hell?

“What century were you born in, Virg?”

His brother shrugged. “Never hurts to be polite.”

Gordon stared until Virgil glared at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Another brown-eyed stab and his brother turned his back on him.

Some smart targeting with Two’s forward cannon and several of the temporary devices were deployed at the foot of the volcanic cone around five hundred metres underwater. Gordon dipped down to check their placement, John looped Mel into their feed via Five and the job was considered complete. Tin picked up Four and with a cheery farewell to her brothers, flew back to Tracy Island.

Gordon did note that Virgil stood staring after his vanished ‘bird a lot longer than necessary. He wasn’t sure which his brother was missing more, Two or her temporary pilot.

He stepped up to the rocks beside his brother. “Hey, she’ll take care of her.”

“I know.”

“Tin knows far more than she ever lets on.”

“I know.”

Gordon placed a hand on his shoulder and stuck a kebab stick with a white blob on one end in front of him. “Want a toasted marshmallow?”

Virgil looked at it and then at Gordon. “It appears to be missing the toasted part.”

Gordon grinned. “Then I guess you better get cooking.”

His brother rolled his eyes, but it appeared to snap him out of his moroseness, which had been the plan.

“Gimme that.” Virgil grabbed the marshmallow on its stick and stalked back to the little camp set up on the island’s excuse for a beach.

He used the term ‘beach’ very broadly, if you could consider a mixture of powdered pumice and basalt dumped like frosting on tumbled rocks, some of which were damn sharp, a ‘beach’.

It had taken both Scott and John to help Virgil first into the inflatable dingy and then onto the rocks and across to the ‘sand’. There were at least two moments where Gordon could see his eldest brother regretting the decision to let Virgil off the yacht. But a determined glare from that brother coupled with at least one whispered profane word appeared to stop Scott from saying anything.

Virgil did sit down in a camp chair and stay that way for some time after that so it was fairly obvious it had hurt.

When Two returned, Gordon found himself caught up with the sensor deployment. The only reason he had been on the beach when the green behemoth finally left was because Tin had delayed her departure to speak to Virgil.

He hadn’t heard what they said to each other, but Virgil was unusually quiet when he returned to the circle with Gordon.

The heat cube was set to cook and Alan had some bacon and eggs sizzling in one pan and Scott was keeping an eye on some pancake batter in another. His eldest brother handed Virgil a soda and the engineer found his seat again, lowering himself slowly into it. Gordon didn’t miss the frustrated exhale.

John even had some fries cooking in a camp quick-oven. All-in-all a decent feast on the rocky beach was almost ready.

The next fifteen minutes or so were spent consuming said food.

“These pancakes are fantastic, Scott.” It was muffled and muttered around one of those pancakes, but Gordon meant every word of it.

“So they should be. Dad’s recipe.”

“Legendary.” Virgil’s voice was equally muffled by another pancake.

“Toasted marshmallows and chocolate mud-cake with cream for dessert.” Alan was grinning. “We packed the best.”

“Oh, god, thank you.” Virgil was always one to appreciate good food.

“Don’t choke yourself, bro. There is plenty to go around.”

“Yes, thank you, guys, so much.”

“Stop talking with your mouth full.” But Scott was grinning like a loon.

Virgil grinned back at him with pancake stuck in his teeth.

Gordon snorted, Alan laughed out loud, and John smiled.

“I would like to raise a toast.” Virgil grabbed his can of soda and held it up and all four brothers scrambled for their own drinks. “To Gordon! For having one of the best ideas ever!” There was a resounding yell of agreement, but Virgil raised his drink again. “Also, to all my brothers for making it happen. I couldn’t ask for a better family than the one I have. I am truly blessed. Thank you, guys, for everything you have done.” And the big dope was all seriousness and, god, was he getting teary? What the hell had Tin said to him?

Every can, cup and glass around the heat cube was lifted, but Gordon stood up so he was taller than everyone for once in his life. “To the Tracy brothers!”

“Hear, hear!” It was shouted and cheered.

Virgil smiled up at him and caught Gordon’s eyes as he drank.

Alan broke the tableau.

“Who want’s mud-cake?!”

-o-o-o-

It was a very satisfied group of brothers who watched the sun dip below the horizon sometime later. The cube temperature had been lowered, but not entirely extinguished. They weren’t in tropical latitudes yet and although the days were warm, the nights got chilly. The sea breeze was gentle and the ocean only mumbled against the rocks.

Virgil had slipped into bit of a stupor, his body determined to digest and removing resources from his brain to do it. Consequently, he missed the beginning of the conversation between his brothers while he stared after the disappearing sun.

“So how long has this been going on?”

“It is just a bit of friendly recreation, Alan.”

A Gordon snort. “Yeah, John, but how friendly and what kind of recreation?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Gordon.”

“I’m only following yours, spacebro.”

“There is nothing untoward occurring between Captain O’Bannon and myself.”

“Ooh, ‘untoward’ no, but there are two lonely space souls stuck up there together, none other than each other’s company.”

This time it was Scott’s snort. “Oh, only the resident AI who sees and hears all, and about twenty-odd GDF specialists.”

“Oh, yes, Eos!” Virgil arched an eyebrow as he realised his fishbrother was tapping his collar comms. “Hey, Eos, are you willing to share the goss on your Dad and Captain Ridley O’Bannon.”

“Hello, Gordon. What would you like to know?”

“Does John have a ‘thing’ for the girl next door?”

“Most definitely.”

“Eos!” John shot up ramrod straight in his seat as Gordon cracked up laughing.

“It is true, John. You have sixteen processors, four electronic clipboards and twenty-three bottles of moisturiser set aside for Captain O’Bannon. These are all things you have for the girl next door.”

Virgil couldn’t help himself and had to smother a laugh.

The expression on Gordon’s face was a mixture of confusion and incredulity. “Twenty-three bottles of moisturiser?”

“It is her favourite brand and she was unable to purchase it before beginning her last rotation, so I acquired some for her.” He glared at his aquanaut brother. “Just like friends do.”

“But twenty-three bottles?” Even Scott was staring at John as if he was a little weirded out.

“You obviously like her. Why don’t you ask her out?” Trust Gordon to poke the issue further.

John shrugged. “Hasn’t come up.”

Gordon groaned. “Really?” His hands dropped to his knees. “I thought it would be obvious.”

John’s glare was acidic. “I can’t see why you can talk. How long did it take you to ask Penny out? Hmm, let me think, oh, yes, that’s right. You didn’t. She asked you.”

“Hey, I was bedridden!”

“Excuses, excuses...”

“Well, at least I’m making progress. Please tell me at least one of you guys has a possibility in your back pocket. Hell, we’re all tough and buff and saving people. Hasn’t anyone swooned for any of you?” Gordon’s eyes raked around the circle and to Virgil’s horror landed on him. “What about you, Virg. You and Tin have a bit of thing happening, don’t you?”

His heart missed a beat. “What? No!”

“Virg and Kayo? Are you kidding me?” Alan was glaring at Gordon, but then seemed to second guess himself and turned that glare on Virgil. “She’s our sister, bro.”

Virgil held up his hands. “Hey, it wasn’t me who postulated the idea.”

“Postulated? Really, Virg? Me thinks you be hiding behind a dictionary.”

“Shut up, Gordon.”

“I think he doth protest too much.”

“I think you should look into the fact she is spending the next month with Wayne Rigby and not entirely for mission related reasons.”

There was no satisfaction in seeing Gordon freeze like that, or Scott’s “What?”

“She’s with us for New Years, but then it is onto Siberia on the third of January. Something about the possibility of a Chaos Crew tech lab infiltration.” Virgil grabbed the carafe of hot chocolate off the heat cube and poured himself a good dose. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that wished it was something ever so much stronger.

“She hasn’t told me about any mission.” Scott was frowning at him.

Virgil hid behind his mug. “Only just came in apparently. She only mentioned it in passing while she was saying goodbye. I have no doubt she will brief you when we get home.”

Gordon was staring at him. He opened his mouth but failed to say anything.

Virgil took another sip and just stared straight back. It took a moment, but eventually Gordon appeared to shake it off, frowning just a little before turning to Scott. “What about you, bro? You’ve always been our leader in the girlfriend department. What’s the count now?”

“Thirty-two.” John was smug behind his own mug of hot chocolate.

His eldest brother shifted in his seat as if suddenly uncomfortable. “Okay, I’m with Virgil on this - shut up, Gordon.”

Gordon held up his hands in all his innocent glory. “Hey, I’m just brotherly bonding around the fire.”

“Go bond with the volcano.” John’s voice was dry. “Or a whale, I hear a few pass through on occasion.”

“Hey, you were the one keeping count.”

“I can’t help it, I’m good with numbers.”

Virgil snorted. “Not good enough. You’re at least two out.”

The glare Scott shot him could have scorched his hair off.

“Don’t worry, Scott, I’m not going to tell them about Petunia.”

“Virgil!”

“What?”

“Shut it or lose it.”

“Hey, I said I wasn’t going to tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Both Alan and Gordon were about ready to fall off their chairs with glee.

John just rolled his eyes.

“About Petunia.”

“Who is Petunia?”

“You’re an idiot, Virg.” Scott’s glare was becoming more resigned and flatter by the second. “I am so gonna let them know about Gertrude now.”

Virgil snorted. “As if I’d care. She really wanted you anyway.”

“Not true, you were her favourite.”

“Yeah, sure, she’d turn to anyone who would give her what she wanted. I just had it more often than you.”

“You planned it that way.”

“I thought you of all people would appreciate a few tactics. With you around, I need all the help I can get.”

“What?”

Okay, so that had come out a little too serious for Petunia talk, but then Virgil’s count was far smaller than thirty-two or thirty-four depending on how you counted. Early on he had tried to get out and about like his eldest brother, but honestly it wasn’t in him. He wasn’t a one-nighter like Scott. Besides standing next to the heir of Tracy Industries, tall and female magnet was like trying to catch moths while standing next to a bug zapper.

“Virgil?”

“Petunia was a goose.”

“What?!” It was choral from both Alan and Gordon and quickly followed by a “Virgil!” from Scott.

“She used to follow him around everywhere about the farm. It was hilarious.

“Yeah, well, Gertrude was goat and she once ate Virgil’s pants. He’s lucky he didn’t lose more.”

Scott and Virgil glared at each other across the heat cube while Gordon and Alan played eyeball tennis between them.

John just drank his chocolate, a vaguely amused expression on his face.

Virgil held his brother’s furious gaze as long as he could, but he had to bite his lip. The moment he realised Scott was doing the same, it became oh so much harder.

Two seconds later he cracked up laughing. Scott followed not a moment after and both of them laughed even harder when they caught sight of the expressions on Gordon and Alan’s faces.

Virgil laughed so hard he had to hold his stitches in place.

Which of course Scott saw and it drew the night to a close as big brother shifted gears into smother brother.

They cleared off the island leaving no mark behind. Gordon clucking like a hen and claiming death threats from Melissa Fisher if they left anything behind.

Making it back to the boat in the dark was easily done, but awkward and a little painful for Virgil and by the time he made it to his bed, he was worn out.

Regardless, he didn’t fall asleep immediately, despite the gentle rocking of the boat. Thoughts of what could be, what could have been and what he actually wanted bounced around the inside of his skull.

It took a long time for them to fall quiet.

-o-o-o-

End Day Two.

Day Three, Part One

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #Eos

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friendlyfacestabbing · 5 years ago

Note

Logince is competitive, then s o f t.

For the 30 Followers! prompt thing. Requested opening sentence was “How dare you!”(I’m sorry, this is less competitive, more argumentative. Uni student AU. An experiment in dialogue fic.)“How dare you!”

“Roman, audience immersion is not worth it.”

“And what, pray tell, would you know about what an audience needs?!”“I know the audience doesn’t need the artist to go to prison.”“Logan! I demand answers! Specifics! Details! Art requires a canvas, a medium. Something for the audience to see, hear, touch. Something to grapple with, to fill their senses and intellect, to-”

“I am not going to help you write and publish recipes for explosive materials.”

“It’s not a recipe! It’s a novella delving into the actions of people when pushed to the brink by circumstance! An intimate examination of the veneer and soul of humanity within us a-”

“It’s a concise story on how to make a bomb with cleaning materials, and it’s going to get you arrested.”

“The narrative requires accuracy! Please Logan?”“No! Our internet history is already suspect enough as it is!”

“I had a project on Arthurian legends! How was I supposed to know I’d get in trouble for streaming Monty Python and the Holy Grail?!”

“Wait what?! I was talking about the time you researched narcotics for use in interrogation. When did you use the uni wi-fi for illegal downlo-”

“What is the point of a chemistry degree if you don’t do anything with it?!”

“Well what is the point of a fine arts degree if what you produce is neither fine, nor art?!”

“… Logan…”

“Roman, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I-”

“… I’m going to bed.”

“Roman, that came out wrong. Roman?”

“'Night Logan.”*door slams*

“Roman?”

~~~

“Logan Croft?”

“Yes?”

“You need to report to campus security. Their office is Admin, Room 318. Before 4pm today, please.”

“I have labs until 4:30-”

“Before 4pm.”

“… Of course.”

~~~

“…”

“Um. Hi Logan.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, turns out you may have had a point about narrative accuracy and suspension of disbelief.”

“What. Did you do.”

“Used uni wi-fi to view a copy of The Anarcist’s Cookbook?”

“Roman. That’s illegal. Actually illegal.”

“Nope! It’s illegal to own a copy. I’ve haven’t downloaded it, so technically I don’t actually own it. I checked!”

“Oh my god.”

“And I dunno what the fuss is all about anyway. The book isn’t that bad. It’s mostly about gardening, and how to turn a bicycle into a record player, and how t-”

“Roman, please stop talking.”

“Oh. Right.”

“What are you doing with campus security? Are you actually being arrested?”

“Um. Not quite? I told them it was a big misunderstanding, and that my roommate with a flawless student record who also knows my every move would vouch for me?”

“…”

“Please Logan. I promise to find other stuff to write about. And I swear I’ll listen next time.”“Fiiiiiine. Yes officer, I can swear to the fact that my roommate is a well-intentioned idiot doing a fictional writing course,”

“Hey!”

“And that he has absolutely no plans to carry out any form of mayhem,”

“Thanks Loga-”

“because the one time he watched The Dark Knight he cried, and I had to teach him how to light the stove.”

“That’s… true.”

“You’re welcome.”

~~~

“So you’re in the clear?”

“They’ll do some monitoring, but yeah, pretty much.”

“Well. Good.”

“Thanks Specs. For bailing me out, even after I ignored you.”

“Roman?”

“Hmm?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. About your degree. I think the stories you create are amazing. And I know you work very hard on them. It was a heated moment, and I was cruel. So, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry about pulling you out of labs. I know you hate missing class.”

“That is appreciated. Shall we head home?”

“We shall. Oh! How about a movie night?”

“My pick.”

“Ugh! I guess that’s fair.”

“V for Vendetta?”

“No!”

“We could marathon Firefly?”“Logan!”

“A Clockwork Orange?”“Are you just trying to get me arrested again?”“… Maybe.”

#i wrote a thing #fic #my fic #ts sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #lilfella #ask

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today-only-happens-once · 6 years ago

Text

Tight Spaces and Brave Faces

Title: Tight Spaces and Brave Faces

Word Count: 5141

Summary: For as long as they’ve all known him, Patton Foster has had crippling claustrophobia. One night at a cast party brings that all bubbling back to the surface, and Virgil can’t get the door open. College AU. Platonic Moxiety, platonic LAMP/CALM.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, some angst, claustrophobia, being trapped in a small space, descriptions of crowds and tight spaces (specifically closets), alcohol mention, panic attack (mostly off-screen), cursing, spoilers for Heathers the Musical, feelings of guilt, a bit of fluff towards the end, please let me know if I forgot anything.

A/N: Been a while, yeah? Thank you to everyone who was so kind and patient with me during my writing hiatus. The hiatus was… needed and helpful, although I only hope this fic makes up for the lack of writing content the past few weeks. I’ve never written a focus on the Moxiety dynamic for a one-shot before. The rough draft was extra rough and this had to go through some major revisions… I hope this turned out okay. Nervous to post, but when am I not? <3

…

The lobby of the performing arts center is packed as the theater spills out into the tiled space. Excited voices bounce off the marble pillars with words of congratulations and greetings. Virgil Shea stands at the far outskirts of the thickening crowd, pressing against the wall to create as much space from the sea of bodies as he can. His roommate, Patton Foster, is already pressed flat against the wall.

His smile is a bit stiff as his gaze scans the crowd for their roommate, Roman Prince. Their fourth roommate, Logan Sanders, stands with his arms crossed on the other side of Patton. Virgil frowns at the way Patton seems to be trying to melt into the wall, even though he understands. For as long as Virgil has known him, Patton has struggled with debilitating claustrophobia. It was worse when it was small, cramped spaces, but crowds could sometimes be hard for him to handle too.

Virgil spots the spiral staircase, noting that the swarm of people that had been working their way down it after the curtain had mostly thinned out by now. He nudges Patton beside him. “I’m gonna head over there. See if I can’t spot Roman from further up.”

Patton follows his gaze, and a note of relief floods his eyes at the lack of a crowd in that part of the room. “I’ll come too!”

At Logan’s quizzical look, Virgil jerks his head towards the stairs, and the three of them skirt the outside of the crowd and make their way through the lobby. The red carpeting does little to absorb the sound of cast members chatting excitedly with their friends and family that had attended the opening night production of Heathers The Musical!

As the three of them head up the steps—stopping about half-way to lean over the railing and scan the crowd for their roommate—Virgil hears Patton take in a deep breath.

“I may not entirely understand theatre,” Logan says suddenly, “but seeing Roman perform a role so unlike his usual demeanor was certainly interesting.”

Virgil watches the people milling around below them. Some of the girls in the cast are handed flower bouquets. People are exchanging hugs, cast members laugh loudly with eyes bright from the flood of post-show adrenaline. Virgil may have stopped getting involved in theater after high school, but he’s glad that Roman didn’t. Though he’d never tell his roommate, Virgil knows that Roman is talented and works hard at it.

“He was so good!” Patton adds, nodding in agreement. “His whole performance was just… J-D-lightful.” He laughs as Logan groans.

Virgil smirks at the pun. “Always knew Princey had a dark side.”

“Don’t worry,” chimes a new, familiar voice coming up the stairs behind them. “You’re still the Emo Nightmare of the group.”

All three of them turn as Roman jogs up the stairs towards them. The dark clothes and slicked back hair looks suddenly odd on the young actor, if only because the brightness of his smile and revitalized energy in his eyes has turned him back into Roman, not J.D anymore. His stage make-up that had looked edgy and dangerous on him while on stage looks thick and dramatic up close. He’s got a fake blood streak down his temple starting somewhere up in his hairline.

“Roman!” Patton gushes, giving is roommate a hug. “You were amazing! I was actually a little scared of you when you killed Kurt. It felt so real.”

Roman grabs hold of the railing on the stairs to keep his balance as he hugs his roommate back. When they separate, Roman gives a dramatic bow. “You’re too kind, Patton.”

“I don’t know about that, Patton,” Virgil quips. “Roman Prince being straight? Unrealistic.”

Roman holds a hand to his chest. “I’ll admit, ‘Dead Girl Walking’ is always an exercise of my greatest acting ability…” Roman trails off, then smiles with a note of uncertainty. “But really. Did you guys like it?”

Logan inclines his head. “The performance was adequate.” Roman rolls his eyes with a sense of affection.

“Not that you need the ego boost,” Virgil says when Roman looks at him, “but yeah. It was really good, Roman.”

Roman beams.

“Actually,” Logan says, adjusting the frame of his glasses, “I was hoping to ask you about the technical design of—“

“Roman?”

Roman turns at the sound of his name being accompanied by someone ascending the staircase. The girl that Virgil recognizes as having played opposite Roman as Veronica stops a few steps below the four of them. She’s got a soft, warm smile that—not unlike Roman’s transformation—seems somehow to be such a stark contrast to her character they’d just seen on stage. Her dark hair is mussed, her own stage blood streaking her left cheek. She smiles brightly.

She offers Roman a hug, and the young actor accepts it warmly. “Nicole, you were exquisite as always.”

She smiles. “You kidding? You brought the house to its feet when you came out at the end!”

“Funny,” Roman says, “I got a very different reaction when I came out in high school.” Virgil snorts.

Nicole rolls her eyes before her gaze falls on the three of them standing on the stairs behind Roman. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” Patton jumps in. “You were amazing!” Nicole seems briefly startled at the enthusiasm, but her smile is sincere and Virgil swears he sees a faint blush underneath her thick layer of makeup.

Roman laughs and sweeps an arm up the staircase in a grand gesture. “Nicole, these are my roommates. Patton, Logan, and Virgil.”

Virgil nods a greeting as Logan chimes, “Salutations.”

“It’s great to meet you guys,” Nicole replies. A second later, her face lights up with an idea. “You all should come to the cast party tonight! Alex is hosting it at the music frat house. It’s supposed to be a ton of fun. I don’t know everyone who will be there, but the more the merrier, right?”

“We’ll be there,” Roman answers immediately for the four of them. Virgil shoots an exasperated look at the back of his head. Did Romano really just sign us up for a party?

“Great! I’ll see you guys there, then!” Nicole waves and hurries back down the spiral staircase.

When Roman turns back around and sees the dry look Virgil is giving him, he waves a hand. “Don’t give me that, Sweeney Toddler. It’ll be fun!”

…

The music frat house is jammed with people.

Virgil shoulders his way through the bodies pressing against one another in the living room as a rap song blares from the big speakers in the corner. Colored lights are projected in changing patterns on the walls and ceiling of the room. The air is hot and thick with the scent of sweat and beer. When the song hits the bass drop, Virgil feels the floor beneath his feet vibrate.

The whole thing sets his nerves on edge. It doesn’t help that he has this weird feeling in his stomach that something is distinctly wrong. A part of him wants to leave, and given how crowded the house is, he wonders if maybe Patton would want to come with him. Their apartment building was only a few blocks away anyway.

Virgil makes his way to the far end of the room, doing his best to avoid the drinks sloshing over the rim of the solo cups as they jumped and danced to the music. He sees Roman sitting on the sofa, chatting with a member of the tech crew. Virgil recognizes them as someone he’d had freshman year history with; Elliot, Virgil thinks the name is. Roman’s face brightens when Virgil breaks through the crowd in front of him.

“Hey, Virge!” he shouts, either still running off the post-show high or simply to be heard over all the noise. The graphic design major isn’t sure which.

“Have you seen Patton?” Virgil asks, unable to ignore the squirming in his gut.

Roman seems to see it in his face, too, because his brows pull together in concern. He straightens up slightly, his gaze scanning the crowd of people. He shakes his head as he looks back at Virgil. “I just saw him like, ten minutes ago. He said something about finding the bathroom.” He looks back at Elliot. “Hang on,” he says to them. “I’ll be right back.”

Roman gracefully jumps up from his perch on the arm of the sofa and starts making his way through the house. He ducks into the small dining room that had—intentionally or not—been turned into an overflow space of dancers. Couples lined the walls, heads ducked towards one another in flirty conversation. Two girls giggle as one kisses the other’s nose. Another couple is kissing sloppily in the corner and Virgil quickly averts his gaze.

He follows Roman through the entryway at the far end of the room, down the tight hallway, to the staircase that led up to the second floor of the house. Logan stands at the foot of it by the railing, chatting idly with some people that Virgil distantly recognized as being part of the pit orchestra and production team.

“Hey. Specs.” Roman claps a hand on Logan’s shoulder as he comes up from behind him. Logan’s cool brown gaze flashes up in annoyance before turning to confusion at seeing Roman and Virgil.

The sense of urgency is ballooning slowly in Virgil’s chest, getting harder for him to ignore even though he can’t exactly pinpoint why. “Have you seen Patton?” he asks before Logan can respond.

Logan meets Virgil’s gaze. “I did see him go upstairs, although that was several minutes ago. A few other students are up there as well.”

Something doesn’t feel right. It’s a vague weight over his head that Virgil can’t shake for the life of him. He brushes past Logan and takes the stairs two at a time. He hears Roman say his name before two sets of footsteps following up the stairs behind him.

The hallway at the top of the stairs is tight and dark and the floor creaks beneath him. All of the doors are closed except for the one just slightly to the right of the staircase. The door is open, the light is on; it’s the bathroom. Patton is nowhere to be found.

There are a few guys further down the hall crowded around a door on the left. It’s a slightly smaller door, probably to a closet of some sort. One of them jiggles the handle before snorting in laughter. He slaps his friend’s shoulder. “Dude, dude, dude,” he says between laughter, “I think he jammed it. Guess he’s not getting out now.”

Roman reaches the top of the stairs as Virgil’s mind starts racing. “Hey, man,” Roman calls out to them, oblivious to their conversation or the way Virgil pales beside him. “You didn’t see my roommate come up here, did you?”

“Who’s your roommate?” one of them asks. “Wait, the weird guy in the blue polo?”

Virgil’s hands twitch into fists at his sides. “Tell me you didn’t…”

The one closest to Virgil rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Learn to take a joke, man—“

“Is he in there?” Virgil demands, his sharp gaze startling the other three into silence. When the one in the middle glances at the door and says nothing, Virgil sees red.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Roman demands, crossing the short length of hallway to stand almost nose-to-nose with the one in the middle. Virgil pushes past all of them to get at the door, trying the handle.

It won’t turn. It’s locked, or jammed or… Virgil knocks softly on the door. “Patton?” He doesn’t hear anything on the other side and he feels his stomach drop. He tries the handle again, but he can’t turn it. Blindly, Virgil shoves his shoulder into the door with a small thud. “Patton? Can you open the door?”

There’s still no answer. It’s hard to tell whether the heavy beat vibrating the floor from the music below or Virgil’s heart is faster. He jiggles the handle again and shakes the door slightly, trying to force it open. It doesn’t budge.

“Maybe he’s enjoying the seven minutes in heaven by himself,” one of them jokes. Virgil doesn’t turn around, but he’s pretty sure he can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I suggest,” Roman says in a low, dangerous voice, “that you either find a way to get that door open or you don’t let the front one hit you on the way out.” His voice reminds Virgil suddenly of when he’d been J.D from earlier that night.

“Whoa, calm down, man,” one of them says. “Look, we didn’t mean to actually jam the door. That was your guy. He like, totally freaked out when we closed the door on him. We were just messing with him.”

“Evidence suggests that you did more than simply close the door on him,” Logan cuts in. His voice is a lethal, savage calm. “If the door is jammed because our roommate pulled on it, then you likely where holding the door closed on him. Otherwise, opening it would have been no problem. Now, there’s a chance I may be mistaken, but I’ve found that I am rarely incorrect.”

Virgil knocks on the door again. He can feel his heart in his throat. “Patton, can you please try to open the door?” He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation behind him as he grabs the handle and jiggles the door again. He presses his ear against it, listening for a moment. “Pat, we’re trying to get you out, okay?” The music and crowd noise from downstairs make it hard to tell, but Virgil swears he hears a quiet whimper come from the other side of the door.

He hears rapid footsteps behind him that recede down the stairs. When he glances over his shoulder, only Logan and Roman are left in the hallway.

“I can’t get it open,” he says in a tight voice. He backs up from the door, then throws his weight into it with his shoulder. The impact is jarring, but the door doesn’t budge. “Come on,” he growls under his breath. Can he kick in the door? No, he doesn’t know how to do that. And even if he did, it could easily end up hurting Patton.

“Virgil.”

He pulls back from the door and is about to throw his weight into it again—he has to get through that door—but feels a firm hand grab his shoulder.

“Stop,” Logan says softly but firmly from behind him. “You are more likely to dislocate your shoulder doing that than you are to open the door.”

Virgil roughly shrugs out of Logan’s grip. “Then what do you suggest, Logan?” he snaps. “Patton is in there and I can’t get the door open—“

“Keep him calm,” Logan tells him. “I will find a way to get the door open, but right now you and Roman focus on helping Patton stay calm.”

Virgil looks up into Logan’s steady gaze and takes a breath before nodding. “Okay.” The corner of Logan’s mouth quirks slightly before he nods back and hurries down the stairs.

The graphic design major turns back towards the door and leans his head against it softly. “Patton, if you can hear me, I need you to breathe.” The party downstairs is still too loud for him to really hear if he gets a response. He just hopes that Patton can hear him and is listening. “We’re gonna breathe in for four seconds, okay? Here we go. In…” Virgil counts out loud to four. “Hold for seven seconds.” He counts again. “Now let it out for eight seconds.” When he counts to eight, Virgil swallows and pauses. “Good. We’re gonna do it a few more times, okay? Breathe in for four seconds…”

The dark, cramped hallway creaks as Roman takes a step closer. Virgil walks through the exercise once or twice more. He doesn’t know if it’s actually helping, if Patton can actually hear him, and it kills him a little that he doesn’t know. He feels Roman place a hand on his arm as he steps closer.

“Hey, Patton,” Roman says in an unusually soft voice. “Did I ever tell you about the field behind my house back home?”

Virgil’s glances at Roman, confused. What? He mouths. Roman holds up a hand and mouths back, Trust me. He hesitates a moment, then takes a step back to let Roman get closer to the door.

“It was this huge grass field. In the far distance, you could just barely make out the trees silhouetted on the horizon line. Wildflowers in the spring and summer would coat the field in yellows, reds, and blues that matched the sky above. And the sky out there…” Roman has his eyes closed, looking lost in his own world. “It goes on for miles on a clear day. The brightest sky you’ve ever seen. Don’t even get me started on the sunsets out there. The reds and golds and violets would bleed into one another and reflect off the clouds, endless colors filling the vast sky above you. And since we kind of lived in the middle of nowhere, the night sky was just full of stars. I used to think you could see the farthest corners of the universe out there.”

Roman’s voice is smooth and effortless. Virgil can feel the tension in his shoulders easing just a little bit, and he realizes what Roman is doing. He’s painting a picture of wide, open, colorful spaces as a way to combat the tight, dark one Patton is trapped in. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in the actor’s eyes as he opens them and looks at Virgil. He isn’t sure if it’s working. Virgil doesn’t know either.

Roman opens his mouth and takes a breath to continue when the rapid but methodical sound of footsteps coming up the stairs signals Logan’s reappearance. Virgil straightens up and looks at him expectantly.

Logan holds up a butter knife. “It was the best I could do.” He squeezes past Roman to kneel on the thin carpeting and wedge the knife by the lock in the door. It takes him a couple of seconds before they hear a quiet click, nearly drowned out by the thumping bass from below. Logan tosses the knife to the floor and twists the handle, the door swinging open effortlessly. Virgil squeezes past Roman and through the door into the closet as soon as there’s enough of a crack for his body to slip through.

The walls of the closet are lined with shelves full of cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, and toiletries, and on the floor in the middle of it all is Patton. His knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried in his arms. Trembling.

Virgil unzips his hoodie and shrugs out of it as he kneels in front of him. “Patton,” he says in a soft voice. “Hey.” He knows the trembling isn’t really because Patton is cold but he drapes his sweatshirt around Patton’s shoulders anyway.

Patton’s breath hiccups as he pulls his head out of his arms. Virgil feels his heart constrict at the tear tracks that mark his cheeks. He hears movement behind him and when he glances over his shoulder, he sees that Logan has a hand on Roman’s shoulder as if keeping him from coming into the closet too. He whispers something in the actor’s ear. Roman nods and takes a small step back.

Virgil looks back at Patton. “You’re safe now,” he says. “What do you say we get out of here?”

He offers a hand, but he sees the way Patton’s shoulders tense and he pulls back. He doesn’t take it personally. Patton needs as much space as he can get right now. The vacuum in the corner is tipped over and shoved into a pile of toilet paper under the bottom shelf. Virgil wonders in the back of his mind if that might have been Patton’s doing.

“Patton,” Logan says from the hallway, his voice softer than Virgil can ever remember it being, “Can you stand up?”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Then, so quietly that Virgil almost misses it: “Y-yeah.”

Patton uncurls himself, scrubs a hand against his tear-stained cheeks, and stands on shaky legs. Virgil stands with him, slipping his hands into the back pocket of his jeans and moving out of the way of the door. Instinct is telling Virgil to grab his arm, to steady him, protect him like you failed to do in the first place, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm or overstimulate him. So Virgil hovers in the corner, follows Patton out the door, and pulls the door shut behind him.

Logan offers Patton his hand with a gentle, reassuring look. Patton swallows and glances up at him before slipping his arms through the sleeves of Virgil’s hoodie and quietly placing his hand in Logan’s outstretched one.

“Let’s go home,” Logan says softly.

…

The moment they are out of the house and the door has closed behind them, the world becomes immediately quieter. The brisk autumn air tugs at the strands of hair falling into Virgil’s eyes. Roman rushes down the steps of the porch towards the sidewalk with his arms spread out.

“You wanna know what song I feel like singing tonight, Logan?” Roman announces as he grabs hold of the nearby streetlamp and spins around it.

The chemical engineering student adjusts the frame of his glasses as he follows Roman down the sidewalk, his other hand still entwined with Patton’s. “What would that be, Roman?”

“All we see is sky for forever!” Roman belts out, a show tune that Virgil immediately recognizes from Dear Evan Hansen. The young actor isn’t exactly being subtle. The out-stretched arms, spinning around, walking ahead of them, singing a song not from the beginning of the tune but from that particular line… he’s emphasizing all of the open space around them as much as possible.

The corner of Virgil’s mouth quirks upwards in an almost-smile. He glances at Patton out of the corner of his eye and notices that he seems steadier now as he smiles warmly at Roman’s antics. He seems to be breathing normally.

It’s something, at least.

Virgil can’t quite shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach even as he crosses his arms over his chest to brace against the cold air, keeping stride a few steps behind the other three. He doesn’t know what to do. Not really, anyway. He’d been useless to get Patton out of the closet. Useless to prevent him getting trapped in it in the first place. He’d always been the one who focused on keeping the others’ safe, but he’d failed. Where did that leave him?

Patton is safe now. That should be all that matters. But the weight sits heavy and uncomfortable in his chest anyway. He wants to ask Patton if he’s okay—just to make sure, to actually hear him confirm it so maybe his gut will stop twisting—but Patton smiles and laughs at something Roman says and the words die in Virgil’s throat. Maybe bringing it up is a mistake. Patton probably just needs a distraction right now.

Virgil could do that.

Patton glances over his shoulder at him, his brow pulling together in sudden concern. “Holy smokes, kiddo,” he says and starts shrugging out of the hoodie, “I wasn’t even thinking. You must be freezing.”

Virgil’s eyes widen and he grabs Patton’s arms to stop him before he twists out of the sweatshirt. No, Patton,” he insists. “Really. It’s fine. Keep it until we get back to the apartment.”

Patton stops, but looks at him doubtfully. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

Virgil dismissively rolls his eyes. “I won’t, dad. Leave the hoodie on, will you?”

Patton purses his lips. “If you’re sure…” He shrugs it back over his shoulders and slips his hands into the pockets. Virgil gives him a small smile. He feels some of the tension loosen in his chest at the warm look in his friend’s eyes. “Thank you,” Patton adds, a weight to his words that Virgil pretends he doesn’t notice.

Instead, he shakes his head teasingly and bumps his shoulder into his roommate’s. “Don’t mention it.”

…

When they get back to the apartment ten minutes later, Roman dramatically stretches and announces that he needs his “beauty rest” before the matinee tomorrow. Virgil doesn’t miss the soft, uncertain look he gives Patton—the brief crack in Roman’s normality checking that Patton is okay—and Patton gives him a sincere smile and tells him to not let the bed bugs bite. Roman says something about “vanquishing such vile creatures in my sleep!” before he heads into his and Patton’s shared room and closes the door.

Logan stifles a yawn. “Patton, if you’re certain that you don’t require assistance or companionship, I think I may retire for the night as well.”

“You’re sweet for offering, Logan, but you don’t need to worry about me!” Patton flashes him a bright smile but there’s something just a little off about it to Virgil.

The exhausted chemical engineering student glances at Virgil as if to assure himself that someone would be staying up with Patton a little while longer. Virgil nods subtly, and Logan inclines his head to Patton, bids them goodnight, and heads into his and Virgil’s shared room.

There’s a quiet moment after the door clicks shut behind him when neither of them says anything. The quiet living room separated from the kitchen by a wall and short hallway feels small and noticeably silent given the party they had just come from. The heating unit kicks on with a quiet rumble. The thin carpet and mismatching furniture feels like home.

He hears Patton take in a deep, slow breath. He’s still wearing Virgil’s hoodie, but Virgil doesn’t mind. He looks like he feels safe, even as the warm light of the lamp in the corner shows just how much the sweatshirt engulfs his frame. It’s a comforting sight that helps the lingering tightness in Virgil’s stomach, the one that twists a little more each time he thinks about Patton crying on the floor of the storage closet…

“You don’t have to stay up,” Patton says softly, breaking the quiet air around them. “It’s pretty late, kiddo.”

“I’d probably just be scrolling through Tumblr for an hour anyway,” Virgil replies with a tone that is lighter than the weight in his gaze. He looks at his friend a moment longer; Patton looks almost normal, really, if it isn’t for the way he won’t meet Virgil’s eyes. “D’ya want some tea, Patton?”

Patton blinks in surprise. “Oh. Uh, sure. That’d be great.”

“Cool. One sec.”

Virgil takes his time in the kitchen, grabbing a mug with a cat pun for Patton and a black and purple one for himself as he heats the water. He doesn’t rush the process. He has a feeling that Patton could use a moment by himself, to be alone and recognize that he is safe. To not feel like he has to put up a front for anyone else.

Patton had been getting better about not hiding his negative emotions—he really had—but old habits die hard. And Virgil knows all too intimately what it is like to feel exposed and need those tried and true defense mechanisms.

After he drops the tea bags into the mugs of steaming water a few minutes later, Virgil heads back to the living room around the corner. Patton is already sitting on the couch, his shoes discarded by the leg of the coffee table in front of him and his feet tucked up underneath him. Virgil hands him the cat mug and sits beside him, setting his own cup on one of the coasters Logan had bought for the apartment.

Patton gives him a faint, appreciative smile and curls his hands around the cup. He inhales the steam and scent of lavender and cinnamon. He relaxes back into the cushions of the couch a bit.

“Thanks, Virge.”

“Any time, Patton.”

Patton shakes his head and looks down at the floating tea bag in his mug. “No,” he insists quietly. “I don’t just mean the tea. I mean… for tonight. For coming to find me and… helping me get out.”

Virgil nudges the lid of his laptop—which had been sitting on the corner of the coffee table from before they’d left for Roman’s performance—up as he glances at Patton over his shoulder. “I know,” he says. “But we’re here for you as much as you’re here for us.”

Patton swallows and nods. His eyes flicker up to meet Virgil’s before averting them again. Virgil busies himself by quickly logging into his laptop. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his tone light and casual. He doesn’t want Patton to feel like he has to. Virgil figures he’s felt trapped enough tonight; he doesn’t want to add to that.

“Not… not tonight,” Patton admits quietly.

Virgil nods, and pulls up the Netflix tab on his browser. He can’t say the answer surprises him. That’s okay. Patton knows that they’re there for him, and when he wants to talk about it? Virgil and the others will be there.

“Do you want to watch some Parks and Rec instead?”

He doesn’t miss the relieved smile that pulls across his friend’s face. “Sounds perfect, kiddo.”

...

Tags:

@helloisthisusernametaken @ren-allen @lizaelsparrow @princelogical @random-pianist @ravenclawicecream @erlenmeyertrash @milomeepit @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes @rileyfirstname @pinkeasteregg @sassy-in-glasses @vigilantvirgil @generalfandomfabulousness @lacrimosathedark @thepoolofthedead @monikastec @heir-of-the-founders @yourworstnightmare999 @artistictaurean @kanejandkruge @cdragontogacotar @candiukas @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl @angst-patton @savingshae @noneed4thistbh @awesomelissawho @unikornavenger @bopthesnoz @spiralofsilencetheory@finger-gunsss @crownswriter123 @swlotakulady34

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #moxiety #moxiety fanfiction #platonic moxiety #angst #claustrophobia #tight spaces #heathers spoilers #yeets this onto tumblr and then runs far away because idk how i feel about this fic #aaaaa why is posting scary every time #also sorry mobile users its a longer fic this time #long post #just in case

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sun-kissed-star · 6 years ago

Note

hi twitch! its tech week/show week for my show this week and i wanted to request some newsies in theater or something? ily ~sunny

Yes!! Hope tech week’s going well, babe. I know it can be a drag.

Let’s be honest, they’re all theatre kids

Medda is the drama teacher, sorry I don’t make the rules

At least half of them audition for the school musical

Crutchie has a hard time landing roles with his crutches, but he’s the Pro™ at being the student director

He’s pretty happy doing that too so it’s cool

He also helps out with makeup because the boi knows what he’s doing with a mascara wand

Jack is working backstage with set painting

Medda has to drag him to bed during the dreaded tech week

He never sleeps as it is but if he’s in the middle of a show then you can guarantee Crutchie’s gonna wake up to a 2am rant from Jack about not being able to find the right shade of blue

Spot does the technical stuff (lighting, scene changes, curtains, etc)

He’s that One Kid™ that screws with people’s entrances and solos during rehearsal if they tick him off

He’s the epitome of “never piss off a crew member because it will come back to haunt you”

Tommy Boy, my boi, he’s always one of the background dancers and he’s damn well happy about it

He isn’t really one to be put in the spotlight and he’s a fabulous dancer

Buttons and Specs are in the same boat as Tommy Boy so they’re all Show Bros™

Buttons helps out with costume design too

Race is a Broadway Boi

He’s one of those singers that sounds good when it’s a soft or quiet song (that doesn’t mean he doesn’t belt all the showtunes, even if he sounds like a dying frog sometimes)

But he’s an amazing dancer!

So he’s either a background dancer or he gets one of the minor roles

He got a lead in his junior year, though, and he wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks

Davey has an amazing voice but he denies it until the very end

He has minor parts a lot

His friends insist he’s made for solos and leads, but he prefers to stay at the sidelines

It’s less stressful and he says it’s more fun to build up characters that don’t have a lot of development

Albert gets little parts here and there, but he sticks to dancing

(I don’t know if this is just at my school but that’s fine) Les is the kid that the directors pull from the elementary school to play the little kid parts

Les is lowkey an amazing actor, he’s also got that burst of confidence that directors always look for

Katherine gets a lot of female leads since she’s got such a large vocal range

She’s also really great at delivering her lines and she always makes people laugh

She can cry on command too

#medda larkin #crutchie morris #jack kelly #spot conlon #tommy boy newsies #buttons newsies #specs newsies #racetrack higgins #davey jacobs #albert dasilva #les jacobs #katherine plumber #newsies #newsies hcs #newsies headcanons #these are long for once!!#i had a lot of ideas #sorrryyyyy

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bosstoaster · 7 years ago

Note

For the winter prompt suggestion: Festive shatt having a good old fashion cuddle with fuzzy socks and pumpkin spice lattes, the whoooole nine yards

(Whoops, forgot to post this yesterday)

A warm weight enveloped Shiro's back. He started, not having heard anyone moving behind him, and nearly shoved the presence off. But the plush rub of a blanket stilled him, reminding him where he was.

So instead, he glanced back over his shoulder to eye Matt. "How'd you sneak up on me?"

Matt grinned back, pressing his cheek to Shiro's. "I'm a ninja. A space ninja."

"Sure," Shiro agreed, rolling his eyes. "Which is why I've heard you tromping around in those boots every other time you came up behind me. Super subtle. Besides, you know the Blade of Marmora are the real ninjas."

Snorting, Matt ground his pointy chin into the meat of Shiro's shoulder, just to make him squirm. The ass. "We can both be ninjas."

(Read More Below)

This was a useless conversation, so Shiro put down his pad and leaned back into Matt's warmth. He must have been wearing a blanket like a cloak, because Matt was using it to bolster his hug. Which was a sneaky, cheating move to get Shiro's attention. "Fine, fine, everyone is ninjas. Except the paladins, who are paladins. Now, seriously, how did you sneak up on me?"

Pulling back his hug, Matt instead kicked his leg up and rested the heel of his foot on Shiro's desk. He was wearing huge, fluffy socks, dark with snowflake designs in pale blue. "I got new gear. And I brought you some too." With that, he flicked his wrist. Another wad of fluff flew out of his hands and landed directly on Shiro's head.

"Gee, thanks." Shiro pulled them off and held them up. His were of snowmen, complete with top hats and bow ties. "Where did you even get these?"

Matt grinned. "There were these old blankets, and Coran said any materials in the storage areas are good for reusing. So I had the castle's machining processes break them down and turn them into these. I drew the designs."

Brows up, Shiro looked the socks over with new appreciation. "Huh. Not bad." Apparently Pidge hadn't gotten the family artistic genes, but Matt had some technical skill. Though, his probably came from diagrams and engineering specs rather than a particular interest. "Um, thanks. This are nice. But why?"

There was a pause as Matt looked him over. "You keep track of that Earth calendar that Pidge and Hunk made?"

Once in awhile. But Shiro just didn't have the burning curiosity about what was happening on Earth. He kept a general eye on it, checking a couple times a month, but otherwise it wasn't worth it to him. It didn't matter what the date on Earth was, and whenever someone's birthday got close, the general chaos was enough to give Shiro time to prepare.

"I'm going to take that as a no," Matt drawled. He poked the socks. "It's the 22nd. Of December. Thereabouts, anyway. You know, time zones, time dilation, space."

Shiro blinked, at first not sure what December 22nd had to do with anything. Was it Matt's birthday or something? But then it hit. "Oh, a Christmas thing. Right." Shoot. He hadn't paid attention at all, and Shiro had no idea what to do for gifts. Shit. He was going to have to come up with something fast.

Maybe waiting on everyone else's reactions wasn't his best plan.

"Yeah, a Christmas thing," Matt replied, voice dry. "You know, I figured I'd be a good boyfriend and drag you away from your work for movies and snacks, but apparently I'm saving you from waking up in three days and being utterly confused."

Shiro snorted and shrugged. "Well, now I don't have an excuse anymore. It would have been embarrassing, but at least no one would wonder why I wasn't prepared. So thanks."

"You're welcome," Matt replied cheerfully. "Now, c'mon. Movies. Snacks. Hot chocolate."

Pausing, Shiro's eyes went wide. "Hot chocolate? Really?"

Matt's smile widened as he tugged on Shiro's shirt. "Yup. It's a little weird. Got kind of a mocha aftertaste? I like it a lot, actually, it might be better than Earth hot chocolate."

Finally, Shiro stood, still clutching the socks. "Take that back."

"Try it and see for yourself." Once he was up, Matt leaned up to snag a kiss. "Either way, c'mon. You've been sitting at this desk since dinner time. Relax a little with me, okay? Put on the socks, snuggle under the blanket with me, have some cookies and watch a silly movie. It's almost Christmas, you're contractually obligated to have a little fun."

Shiro's brows rose. "I don't recall signing that contract. I don't even celebrate Christmas."

Rolling his eyes, Matt shrugged. "I forged your signature. I'm a bad, sneaky ninja, remember? And you don't need to believe in all the religious stuff to celebrate. Take the damn excuse, Starshine."

"Alright, alright." Shiro wove his arm around Matt's shoulders, pulling him in and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "What movie?"

Matt beamed at him and started down the hall, the blanket flaring dramatically behind him as he half-dragged Shiro with him. "Wasn't sure. Pidge brought a few. We'll pick when we get there. You ever see those ancient stop motion animation ones?"

"Probably not," Shiro admitted. "Are you counting Die Hard as a Christmas movie?" It seemed like something that Matt would do. He liked that kind of contrarian organization, as much as it used to drive Shiro batty on the trip to Kerberos.

Matt considered, then shook his head. "No, too obvious. Everyone makes that joke." But then he paused, eyes wide. "There's a Christmas Batman movie, though. Let's do that one?"

"Isn't that the one with the Penguin?"

"Mhmm."

Shiro considered, then nodded. "Yeah, alright. Let's see if Pidge has that one."

Grinning again, Matt lead them to the rec room. The screens were already set up for movies, and there were two canisters along with a big tray of cookies. Matt shoved at Shiro's shoulder until he obligingly sat down, then cuddled against his side. "Alright, socks on. That's nonnegotiable."

"Fine, fine." Despite his tone, Shiro had zero objections to wearing fuzzy socks. He hadn't thought about turning the ship's many, many extra blankets into other clothing, but it was a good idea. "How hard was it make these, once you had a design?"

Matt shrugged. "Basically the push of a button. The castle does most of the work. So, no, I didn't slave all day over a hot sewing machine for this one, sorry."

Tugging off his boots, Shiro slid the socks on and wiggled his toes. "I'm not judging, I'm just wondering. More of these would be nice. They're warm." Already sinking back into the couch, Shiro reached out to pick up one of the canisters. The lid was on to keep the liquid inside cool, but when he opened it, he was nearly smacked with the scent of almost-chocolate. "Oh. Oh, man."

"Right?" Matt grinned at him, watching with obvious enjoyment. "Gourmet hot chocolate. Space might be worth it for-" He paused, then shook his head. "No, nevermind. But try it anyway."

Shiro glanced over, heart clenching. They still had no idea where Commander Holt had ended up, without even a picture to search with. Scooting over, Shiro wrapped his arm around Matt's shoulder and squeezed. "Hey-"

"Nope," Matt said. "No way. Today is a nice day. Talk about it tomorrow. Right how is hot chocolate."

"I just-"

"Keep it up and that hot chocolate will end up in your lap instead."

Alright. Shiro sighed and kissed his temple, then obligingly took a sip.

Then he froze.

It was good. It was really good.

"You like it," Matt sing-songed. "It's amazing."

Shiro started to pull the cup away, then grumbled and took another sip. "Okay, yeah, it's good. But I still love the powder stuff."

Reaching around him, Matt wrapped them both in the blanket. "I know you do, Starshine. It's okay, I love you anyway."

Freezing, Shiro's eyes tracked over. Matt wasn't looking at him, but it was faux-casual. He knew exactly what he'd said."

They had been together for a couple months now, but this was the first time Matt had said he loved Shiro.

"I love you too," Shiro replied. "Even if you mock my tastes."

Matt's lips curled up, and his eyes tracked over to meet Shiro's. A hint of color bloomed over his cheeks as he fumbled for the controls. "They deserve to be mocked. But fine, fine. Here. Batman it is."

Wrapping his arm around Matt's waist, Shiro curled in.

Matt had been right. Relaxation was the right call, after a day of working and stressing. And movies, hot chocolate and snacks was a great way to do that.

The best part was sharing it all with his boyfriend, though.

The boyfriend who loved him.

Shiro hid his smile in Matt's curls. There was warmth in his chest even thinking the words. Maybe it was the hot chocolate.

But probably not.

#Shatt #BT Advent #BT Writes #dofuuhua

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nautilusopus · 7 years ago

Text

The Number I

Chapter 19: The Thrilling Conclusion to the Cash Register Arc. Story Over, You Can All Go Home Now

I got called double reverse racist over this story. It was amazing and is officially the high point of my "career". I have inspired Discourse (TM). I can reach no higher.

I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone that's left me feedback (even the weird negative fifth root of racist anon). Your comments are what keep me going. It means a lot to me that people are actually reading this hot mess.

Also I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about Fenrir and her specs. Cloud/Fenrir is the only good ship.

Thank you to @auncyen, @fury-brand, @limbostratus, and @cateringisalie for putting up with my endless pestering.

There are holes in the world, and spaces between numbers. Neither should exist. Cloud starts noticing them, and he isn’t the only one who has. And unfortunately for him, he’s both. (Contains graphic depictions of violence.)

"So, what's it this time, toots? You here to threaten to break my neck, or just rip my balls off?"

It hadn't been easy arranging this meeting covertly. Tifa was beginning to wonder whether it was even worth it in the first place. Rude had the sense to keep quiet at least, which was fine by her, even if he did stare a little much for comfort. Reno was fucking impossible, though.

"I thought we could come to an agreement," she said shortly.

"Aw, and here I thought you didn't like me," drawled Reno. "Hear that, Rude? Looks like you might even have a chance!" Rude rolled his eyes behind his shades and turned away. "But wait -- it'd be a shame for me to compromise my good name" -- Tifa snorted -- "my good name as an officer of the law just for a stiff drink and some cash. Or a little backroom action, if that's what you're offering --"

"Out, Sinclair."

"Hey, whoa, alright, no jokes then. Joyless hag..."

"I don't need to hire you. It'd just be easier if I did."

"Oh, 'hire' me?" said Reno with a smirk. "See, that kinda makes it seem like you do need me. Because you wouldn't be hiring me if it wasn't something that you couldn't hire someone else for. Assuming I say yes, anyhow. My schedule might be too packed."

"The only reason I'm even considering this is because I know how much of a scumbag you are," said Tifa. "I still owe you for Biggs and Wedge. Keep out of this mess if you want, but don't give me a reason to think it's not worth keeping our truce." Reno rolled his eyes.

He was messing with her, she knew. But he knew she was also bluffing. She probably wouldn't be considering hiring him if it were something she could get from anyone else. And Reno hadn't gotten to be head of the Turks by being stupid -- he knew which hands were and weren't worth biting. Tifa's was not one of those hands.

Elena's flat was neutral territory. Tifa considered her decent enough -- cold, perhaps, and a little unfriendly, at least to her, and maybe a little bit unscrupulous to throw her lot in with the Turks, but decent. She was a stickler for rules, at least, so she'd probably have been the first to rat on either of them if they tried anything illegal, like assault. Or wrecked her furniture should a fight break out. She was across town for the day, but no one wanted to risk crossing her anyway.

She didn't like being this far out from Edge, especially at a time like this. But after what Reeve had said about Cloud's room being bugged, she wasn't sure if she could trust anywhere she knew that Reno would agree to come to. So, here she was, sitting on an impeccably clean L-shaped couch across from Reno, who had already sprawled out on the other side of it with his feet propped up on the armrest, Rude looming behind him looking impatient. It was strange to see him out of uniform.

Tifa had brought Yuffie along as her own insurance. Both of them might not be particularly large, but Yuffie lived nearby enough for it to be convenient, and more to the point she was unsettlingly good at concealing weapons, something that she had a nasty feeling Reno might know a thing or two about as well.

"So, did you actually have a proposition for me, or did you drag me out here so we could chat for old time's sake?" said Reno. "I got places to be."

"It's about Cloud," began Tifa. Reno held up a hand immediately.

"Even if I thought I could, which I can't, he wouldn't accept --"

"You haven't even heard what I'm gonna ask," said Tifa impatiently. "All I want is information. You can give us that much -- there's cops all over that place."

"And what makes you think I'd be willing to abuse the power given to me as an offi --"

Behind her, Yuffie was unable to stifle her laughter.

"...Yeah, alright, fair enough," said Reno, shrugging. "But you better not rat me out. I got friends. If anything happens..."

"Lips are sealed," said Tifa. "We just want to know what's going on. They've gotta be keeping documents or something, but nobody will tell us anything. They won't even let me in the same room with him. No one knows what they're doing, or..."

"Yeah, it's real sad and everything. How much?"

Tifa reached slowly into her pocket and withdrew a small stack of gil and set it out on Elena's glass coffee table. Reno waited until Tifa pulled her hand back to inspect it himself.

"FIfteen hundred," said Tifa. "You get another fifteen hundred after it's done." Three thousand gil was about all they had saved up at the moment, especially considering how long the bar had been closed. Maybe she could get some more later, but for now she hoped it would do.

Reno looked at her in disbelief. "I'm sorry, you want me to risk my job as a police officer -- at least, assuming they don't lock me up for taking bribes and spying -- for three thousand gil?

"It's all I've got right now," said Tifa. "And I already said you didn't need to break him out. Just tell us what's going on."

"Not for three thousand gil, I'm not."

Tifa took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. He knew she was bluffing when she said she didn't need to hire him -- she wasn't stupid enough to go sniffing around for another cop that might be open to bribes. Not without getting into a lot of trouble if she didn't find one, or even worse trouble if she did.

"How about this -- fifteen hundred up front, and thirty thousand when you're done," said Yuffie from behind her suddenly. Reno let out a low whistle. Tifa whipped around to look at her.

"What? Since when?"

"Since now," said Yuffie, then turned to Reno. "Deal?"

"I mean... shit, that's definitely a better deal... what do you think, Rude?"

"I think I might want a cut," said Rude, raising an eyebrow.

"For doing what, standing there like a shaved bear?"

"While you two work that out, I'm gonna have a private word," said Tifa faintly, before standing and heading to the bathroom, dragging Yuffie by the sleeve after her.

"Are you crazy?!" she hissed as soon as the door was closed.

"What? He was gonna say no. We need this, right?"

"And what do you think is gonna happen when they find out you don't have thirty thousand gil?"

"Thirty-one thousand, five hundred," said Yuffie. "I'm paying back your cut too. And I do." Tifa stared blankly at her. Yuffie shrugged in response. "I'm royalty, idiot. How do you think I got a flat in Junon all by myself? And if anyone's got money right now, it's Wutai. We're about the only place that didn't get Sephirothed, especially after Shinra went down and took the world with it."

"Yuffie," Tifa sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes. This whole month was just an elaborate clusterfuck of every single possible thing going wrong all at once. "If anyone finds out Lady Kisaragi bribed a cop to get information about another state's prisoner for..."

"Well, no one has to find out," said Yuffie. "And maybe I don't care even if they do."

"You can't just throw away your entire future over this!" pleaded Tifa. "Think for just five minutes --"

"Ugh, you sound like Dad now." Yuffie made a face. "Cloud would do the exact same thing for us, you know!"

"That's..." not a good thing, she wanted to say.

"And besides, what's so great about ruling a country because you're supposed to, anyway?" continued Yuffie, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, thirty gil of that is technically yours, if you wanted to feel like you were contributing. I took it from the till last time I was over."

"Yuffie..."

"It'll be fine," she said insistently. "Anything that comes up after this, we can handle once we're all back together. So don't even worry about it."

Tifa stood there for a bit as Yuffie's eyes bored into hers. She was angry, she could tell. Not at Tifa, but still angry. But there was a direction to the anger. Yuffie had probably been steering that anger all week. She realised that was something she used to know how to do as well; it was something they'd all learned during those long weeks on the run from everything and everyone, chasing and being chased, with nobody in the world to watch their backs but each other.

"...Alright. Okay. Just... don't do anything stupid."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Yuffie, and slipped back out of the bathroom. As she left after her, Tifa could have sworn there was a hand towel missing from the rack by the sink.

"You've got a deal," said Reno as she entered the living room again. He held up the fifteen hundred gil to show her before pocketing it. "I've done this kinda thing before. Information is a guarantee. Physical documents, if I can get 'em. Anything else... depends what I find, I guess."

"What do you mean, depends on what you find?"

"All I'm saying is, why do you think they won't let you in the same room as him?" said Reno. "I worked at Shinra for seven years before the bottom went out from under it. Usually if something's quarantined like that, it's either to keep you out, or something else in, right? So, like..."

"Just let us know what they're doing with Cloud and you'll get paid," said Tifa tiredly.

"Can do," said Reno. "Just don't get your hopes up or nothin' that there's anything left to save." He forced himself to sit up, and for the first time in their meeting he looked her in the eyes.

"'Cause honestly, there's something wrong with that guy. Really wrong. And I think they know that too."

It was a strange feeling, becoming self-aware in real time. Most people would speculate their whole lives what the exact moment a human being recognised its own conscious existence at birth felt like. Not him. He knew exactly what it was like, and he was damn well sick of it.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out by the time he recovered from realising he existed and that he was Cloud, who was from Nibelheim that burned down and was locked up and afraid and angry and alone when Aeris helped nudge him back to individuality. The further out he moved from where he was, the longer it had been, right? It seemed like he'd moved outward a lot. He wasn't sure how much more he'd have to go until visiting day came. Perhaps he had missed it.

Rise and shine, he heard Aeris say, the false cheeriness in her voice masking the anxiety they both knew she felt. How are you holding up?

I'm okay, he said, which they also knew was bullshit.

He felt Aeris trying to move and found his limbs heavy and sluggish. There's something wrong.

Yeah. Cloud blinked slowly. They saw me freak out last time you were here. The air's been drugged ever since.

I'm sorry. Was that... were you remembering that?

Yes.

I didn't mean for --

I know. Just... don't bring it up again.

...Just one more question, I promise.

Cloud sighed heavily. It wasn't like he was divulging information anymore, he guessed.

The bit at the end, with all the fire... you saw that too, right?

Yeah. Another one of mine. Don't know how accurate it is, but...

...It is?

What do you mean?

I've been having that same dream for a couple weeks.

Cloud very slowly began to sit up, looking around groggily for the new packet they'd given him. Volume 2. She'd want that. You sure it's the same one?

Positive.

Cloud paused. That's not possible.

What do you mean? We've been sharing memories this whole time, apparently.

Yeah, I guess so, said Cloud. He found it at the foot of his bed. Someone had laminated each page this time, to keep him from starting fires with them. It must have taken hours. They'd given him a marker to write with in compromise. Only...

What?

I only remembered it just then, when you saw it. Apart from that bit... I have almost no memory of Meteorfall.

Is... is Meteorfall that event?

Yeah.

So... I've been dreaming of an event I wasn't there for days in advance before you knew about it yourself.

Seems like it. He flipped open the packet. Another thing you don't know how it works, right?

Aeris seemed to sigh. ...What's Meteorfall? she asked after a moment.

The world almost ended.

Is that a joke? I thought you might have done jokes, because of the thing you said about your mum laying eggs, but then magic was real -- dragons, you mentioned dragons, were they real too?

Dragons are real. We all almost died. We lost ninety percent of the world's population, and another ten percent of that ten percent from the aftermath. Starvation, not enough medical supplies, collapse of infrastructure... plague.

Oh. He felt her fumble for something else to say, likely around the foot in her mouth.

That's actually what the rest of this building is for, said Cloud. The WRO -- World Regenesis Organisation, they stepped in after the power vacuum, given most of the world leaders were dead by that point.

What happened to them?

I killed 'em.

...Is... that...

Also not a joke. I had help. And I only killed some of them, mind. Lord Kisaragi's still around, he's Yuffie's dad. Yuffie will be one when Lord Kisaragi abdicates the throne. Reeve, you've met him, he was our mole into the Board of Directors. Reno's still around -- he and the rest of the Turks bailed in their own self-interest, and we figured it wasn't worth it to go after them. And Barret, he's been moving up in the world lately. Kinda took over Corel in the governor's absence, but he's been thinking about staying with the job. And President Shinra and Funsize Shinra are both dead, but contrary to what the news said about Avalanche, I didn't do those two. Someone else got to 'em first.

There was a brief chill of discomfort and underlying fear coming from her.

It's not like we did it for fun, said Cloud quickly. I'm no murderer. Unlike some. There just... wasn't anything else we could do. The last people I saw protesting got lined up in front of a firing squad on live television, and that's one of the more dignified ones they've done. You shoulda seen what they were gonna do to Tifa. Trust me, the world's undebatably a better place without 'em.

...What happened here? asked Aeris, clearly at a loss.

Cloud quietly flipped closed the packet, stifling a yawn. He had a feeling they wouldn't be getting much reading done today.

You know how I mentioned Sephiroth? The first Soldier First. A wry smile crossed his face. That one was a joke, sort of. Did you get it?

Yeah, I... I got it.

So... the thing you have to understand -- the thing you need to understand about all this is... Cloud faltered. I... I know things might seem bad now, looking at this from the outside in, but you have to understand, they... they could be so much worse. They were so much worse.

It was Tifa what hired me for Avalanche. I... she found me in the Sector 2 landfill. Just dumb luck. We both thought the other was dead, and... there was a lot going on, he said uncomfortably. More than we both thought, and definitely more than I realised. I was hired as a mercenary. Said I'd take any job, and I meant it.

Avalanche is... that's where your family is from, right?

Yeah. He closed his eyes again. The sedatives and Aeris's company were easing the constant ache of loneliness, and the memories of his family brought a strange sort of contentment to him. I was a real asshole back then. It -- it was a wonder any of them ever put up with me. I guess because they had to, but -- well, I'm getting ahead of myself... Avalanche. If there were other resistance groups, they were either dead or too small to be doing anything. Barret didn't believe in small. Hard to imagine, I know.

Is that how he lost his arm?

No. But it's part of why he formed Avalanche. We started out... small, I guess. Planted a couple bombs in reactors. Then a mission went wrong. We lost half our crew, Jessie got nabbed for interrogation when she was going back for Marlene... I guess it's a good thing, actually. If we hadn't sent her off to Sector 5, she would've... it's funny how that works out, huh? he said, though there wasn't much funny about it. He could still vividly remember Wedge's broken, twisted body on the ground; Biggs desperately gasping for air that no longer did him any good with his heart rapidly pumping more blood into his lungs; the cold pit of dread at not knowing if Marlene and Jessie had made it out before the plate fell. Too close. It had all been too close. He wished he'd been nicer to Wedge... the last thing he'd ever said to him before all that was "you useless sack of shit", because he was so much better, wasn't he? Soldier First Class. So much better. God, he should've been nicer to Wedge --

Cloud? Are you okay? Cloud jumped slightly at the voice. Aeris was still there. It hadn't been that long, had it? How long had it been?

Yeah. Sorry. So... it wasn't until then we decided to just... go down in a blaze of glory, I guess. Get Jessie back, kill the President, and/or die trying. I mean, definitely Jessie first, but the president too if we had time. And hook up. She asked me out the minute we got out of that tower. Said life was too short. And just like that he'd made himself sad again. So, er...

I thought you said the president...

Yeah. We all got caught, but someone else got to him first. Sephiroth. Which is weird, because I killed him too, actually. Five years ago. His fucking fault I spent five years getting cut to bits and sewn back together. Of course, we had to leave Midgar after that -- known terrorist cell, in the office with the dead president they were on the way to kill anyway, the only witness says it was done by a guy that died under mysterious circumstances five years ago... didn't look great. Picked up Nanaki on the way though. Hojo had him locked up. We figured we'd accidentally-on-purpose let him out of his cage as a diversion, but then he said he didn't appreciate doing all the general-mayhem-causing work for no compensation and just kinda stuck around.

I like Nanaki.

Yeah. He's a good guy.

...You mentioned Hojo before, said Aeris cautiously. Is he --

I don't want to talk about it, said Cloud immediately. You already saw more than I've ever told anyone. I -- I know you didn't do it on purpose, but... just don't talk about it. Ever.

It hurt. It still hurt as much as if it had all happened yesterday. The harder he fought against it, the deeper every minute of those five years dug its claws into him. He was supposed to be moving on, wasn't he? That was the healthy thing to do. Not being afraid all the time like an idiot. Only people that had stupid things like that happen to them were afraid all the time. Not healthy ones.

...Alright, he heard her say eventually. So... I guess you made it out, since you're standing here.

Yeah. We were on the run for a while after that. Tried not to stay in one place for too long. We didn't want to get caught, but we were looking for Sephiroth too. And... he was looking for something else -- a weapon. And Shinra was looking for that weapon, but they couldn't find it on their own, and they couldn't find Sephiroth, but I could, so... we all kinda followed each other for a while.

How did you find Sephiroth?

...I just could.

Cloud, you're lying. I can tell you're lying.

It was Reunion, he said. Sephiroth is like me -- part of M -- of Jenova. And... Jenova wants Reunion. She still wants it, even now, even though there's no one left to give it to Her.

He paused for a bit, worried that speaking about Jenova would cause his mind to drift back over to Her without meaning to, but there wasn't anyone there but Aeris, and while she still seemed intent on threading herself deeper and deeper into him, it was still very clearly Not Him, and that was something Cloud could keep up with.

It's... remember I told you about viruses, and... how nobody believes anything I say, because it could be something She wants me to say?

He felt Aeris making him nod, and he looked up nervously, wondering if anyone had seen him do it. Probably. Well, they thought he was crazy anyway. No loss there.

That's all part of Reunion. If... if any of Jenova is separated -- chunks of matter, like an arm, or Her mind, or if something's... genetically related, I guess, like me -- then all those pieces will get called back together. She wants to put Herself back together, to feed on the Planet and leave. She's been doing it for... for longer than there was a Planet, probably. Feeding and spreading and putting Herself back together and feeding and spreading and reassembling again.

...If it wants to spread so much... the others. It's just you now isn't it? Did...

They were all drawn to Reunion too, said Cloud. None of them survived. Some of them just died from exhaustion, I think. Others... I don't know what happened to them, it was like...

What? Aeris asked when he stopped talking.

...It was like they were melting.

"Melting" was a generous way to describe what he'd seen that day. He vividly remembered watching, unable to tear his eyes away from what looked like a magnet being ripped from iron filings, and bolting from the scene when he felt a tingling in his own skin and wasn't sure if it was psychosomatic or not. He'd had no desire to find out.

...Sephiroth knew about the connection. He'd been using it to draw me to Reunion for weeks. But when I got there...

He didn't know what to say to her next. He could never tell her the truth of it: how he'd been exposed before everyone, everything worthwhile about him revealed as a delusion made by a broken mockery of something that liked to call itself Cloud, a Soldier, a human being; how he'd begged, pleaded Hojo to take him back, had finally known what the numbers tattooed on his wrist were after all this time; how he had known they were a tangible, living testimony to how he'd been a success, and yet they'd taken that back from him, but he was a success, wasn't he?; how he had felt the tears running down his face, had seen Hojo's inscrutable expression morph into one of contempt; how he'd been unworthy of even being a numbered object, to be cherished and studied and regarded as something with promise; how he'd been told it was a mistake to think he ever could have been successful at anything, even being a construct, and feeling the horrible truth of every word cut him to the bone; and how he'd known that there was still one purpose left to him, one last thing he could be, and that anything was better than being a failure, than being nothing. Even being a puppet...

Nothing had changed. Millions were dead now, and still nothing had changed. He did this. He did all of this.

You know, you're very prone to spacing out. I don't know if anyone's told you that.

Cloud jumped again. ...I've been told that, yeah.

Are you... we can talk about something else if you like.

I'm okay, he said. He was helping Aeris now. That wasn't bad, was it? If he started panicking again like he had on that day, he'd be just as useless. He took a deep breath of the narcotic-laced air and allowed it to soothe his nerves. Aeris hadn't forgotten about him. His family would visit soon if he was good. Everything was alright. We couldn't stop him from getting the weapon in the end. Summoned Meteor. Most powerful Black magic there is. There wouldn't have been anything left of the Planet, but...

...But what?

I don't know.

What do you mean, you don't know?

I mean I really don't know, he said, and he knew Aeris could feel the truth in it. Big blank spot. I'm watching Meteor enter the atmosphere, and next think I know I'm being dragged out of a bunch of rubble, and they're saying, hey, the big fuck-off meteor the size of the city is gone, and the airship's toast, and so's most of Midgar, and most of the people that were in Midgar, but... y'know, Planet's still there. Mission accomplished, I guess?

And there was that Something Else that his family kept insisting on, but Cloud still wasn't convinced. It wasn't Holy, obviously -- they hadn't gotten it to work at all. Not until two years later, when Tifa finally managed it in order to purge the 'stigma, and they finally knew what it looked like. So that was their theory shot down.

Just that one city being destroyed, that did this to your planet? asked Aeris.

Well... kinda, said Cloud. Shinra was based out of Midgar. So that was all gone. And... most of humanity, they were living there too. So there was that. But before that, there was the Weapons. And Sephiroth. There wasn't really anyone that could stop him.

How? You've got magic. Just... turn him into a frog or something. Is that something you could've done?

FIrst of all, said Cloud, rolling his eyes slightly, that's a common misconception. There are a lot of very complicated circumstances and variables and everything that have to be just right for that spell to even work in the first place. And second of all, he continued, amid Aeris's disbelief, magic is just a tool. There are things you can and can't do with it, and... and anyway, Sephiroth could do things that...

He glanced over at the mirror over the sink on the other side of the room. A pair of inhuman, catlike eyes stared back. Cloud missed his sunglasses.

I don't know. Whatever it was, it wasn't magic. I saw the guy walk through a solid wall on at least one occasion.

There isn't a "walk through walls" spell?

No. No matter how much energy you move around, walls are walls.

And frogs are much smaller than people. What happens to the rest of you? Conservation of mass --

You're missing the point. There are -- there are rules, things the world says you can and can't do, and he can do things by just -- deciding he could do them. Like he decided the rules didn't apply to him, so they didn't. Go through walls. Fly. Level a building without moving a muscle. He... he moved us somewhere. Or maybe we just hallucinated it. Or maybe we didn't go anywhere, and he just... sectioned off a part of the world, and... it looked like Nibelheim. It wasn't, obviously, the whole place was on fire but Nibelheim burned years ago, and everyone acted like we were still in... I don't know. It wasn't...

I see, said Aeris, not doing a very good job of convincing either one of them.

That's not something people can just do, said Cloud. I can't do that. It's not magic when he does it, it's just... it's Jenova convincing you that you can do something, and then it happens because She wants it, or you do, or maybe there's not a difference.

Perhaps the reason he wasn't explaining this very well was because he didn't understand it properly -- not that anyone else did. He'd thought about trying the walls thing himself, but he wasn't sure how thick they were, and suppose he got caught halfway through? It was one thing to move cups around to irritate Cid, or fetch a towel without leaving the bathroom, or to panic and break something without meaning to (he was extraordinarily lucky on that front, he realised suddenly: heated glass from a light fixture raining everywhere had a nasty tendency of landing in eyes). He hadn't even been thinking about what he'd been doing during the times he'd stood on the underside of something he long since should have fallen off of. It took a special sort of focus, to let Jenova trick you into ignoring how the world should work.

Maybe he's had more time the practise than me, but -- whatever. He was lethal before he decided he could just ignore reality when he felt like it. Afterwards, nobody really stood a chance.

Well, you're not dead. So something happened to him?

Yeah. Killed him too.

Oh. Right, yes. I think I saw that, sort of. How?

Wasn't easy. He'd been using me for a while with Jenova, a bit like you're doing now. But that kind of thing goes both ways. Maybe I wasn't as strong as him, but maybe that's why he wasn't paying attention.

...Do you suppose you could see where I am now?

...I don't know. I don't think so. You're not really infected. If I could've pushed back towards you, I would've done it when you first showed up.

I see, she said again.

Maybe wherever Aeris lived was too different for her to really understand Jenova. Maybe they had things like Her everywhere. That wasn't to say Cloud understood Jenova either. Jenova was something that couldn't exist, that was an aberration to everything that had any sort of logic or familiarity to it. It made sense in a strange sort of way that so was the effect She had on the world.

The speaker clicked back on, and Cloud looked up sharply, realising far too late his lips had been silently moving the whole time. He mentally scrambled for an excuse. They probably saw him nod, too --

"Mr. Strife, your family is here to see you," said the voice.

A wave of emotion hit him like a truck (and he could definitely attest to the accuracy of that simile now), and he swallowed thickly and nodded.

The microphone went silent again, before...

"Cloud? Can you hear me?"

He felt his breathing catch. He'd forgotten what it was like, to have a hole that deep suddenly filled. He'd taken it for granted, being able to just hear Tifa's voice whenever he wanted. He should have called more, just because he could. He should call everyone. "I'm here. I missed you."

"I missed you too," she said. Cloud started to feel a bit light-headed. He was breathing too much. The drugs were making him dizzy.

"I'm sorry," said Cloud. It was all he could think of to say.

"...For what?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything. And -- and I'm sorry I hurt your arm, and got Reeve in trouble, and wrecked your bar --"

"Cloud, a bunch of angry morons wrecked my bar," said Tifa.

"And I'm sorry I put everyone through this, and I don't know how to fix any of it -- I just let you fix everything, and I know it makes you unhappy, and I'm sorry everything I do is -- is stupid. I'm sorry I'm stupid."

He couldn't stop. He hadn't meant for it to turn out like this. He'd used up so much energy pretending he was fine for... however long it had been, and there was nothing else he had in him to stop the tears or the desperate apologies that kept tumbling out of his mouth, and even as he wept he cringed in disgust at himself; that this was all he could ever do at the end of the day, was cry and rely on everyone else. No matter how hard he tried to change himself, this was always the end result. Disgusting. No wonder Hojo hadn't wanted him. Tifa shouldn't either, none of them should. He only ever got worse.

Maybe she should leave him here...

Stop that, snapped a voice in his head. Aeris. He'd forgotten she was there. Cloud was mortified. She'd seen him acting like this, they all had, everyone was watching and he couldn't stop crying --

She's not leaving. I'm not leaving. You're being stupid. You're going to feel awfully silly when all this is over and you're back with your friends, won't you?

"I don't --"

She's right there. Talk to her. Haven't you missed her?

He nodded shakily, his vision a blurry mess, either from tears or from drugs. He could smell it a bit more heavily now. They were trying to calm him down. He wanted to be awake for this visit -- he didn't know if he'd get another one.

"...I'm sorry," was all that came out again.

"Do you need a minute?" asked Tifa. He'd obviously scared her. Aeris began breathing for him again, holding him still. As strong as the urge was to begin picking at his wrist, where his tattoo no longer was to comfort him, Aeris's control seemed to be stronger.

"No, I'm okay," was his automatic response. He probably wasn't fooling anyone, but he didn't even know how to say otherwise. His head hurt, but there were still tears streaming down his face.

"It's good to see you," said Tifa uncertainly. "You've been doing a good job of holding out so far. The... the staff here says you let them draw blood the other day. That's not nothing, right?"

Cloud nodded again. The hands were just as clammy, the needle just as threatening, the smell of antiseptic just as strong after all these years. Another wave of tears hit him. He imagined what it would have been like in Nibelheim with Tifa coming by his cell to tell him he was doing a good job.

Do you want me to go? asked Aeris. He'd made her uncomfortable, there was no hiding that.

"Please don't -- please don't go. I'll stop. I can stop. I can stop, I promise, just don't go --"

"I'm not going yet," said Tifa. He was making it worse. He was scaring her and making it all worse. The world around him was swimming at the edges. Definitely the drugs this time.

"I love you," he blurted out. "I love all of you -- I never said anything, I didn't want anyone to leave --"

"Nobody would do that. Cid said he's setting up a room for you to stay for a little while. Yuffie's got space, too, if you want to stay a little closer to Edge."

Cloud nodded again. Cid was nice. So was Yuffie. They were all so nice to him. He didn't do anything, and they were still all so nice...

"I'll bet he's got a project you can help him on, too," continued Tifa. “You talked about making another bike, didn’t you?”

“Just for fun,” said Cloud. “To see if I could.”

“I bet you could,” said Tifa. “Cid said you did some real impressive stuff with the engine. You could probably make a lot of money off that kind of thing.”

“Reeve -- Reeve said I should get a patent.”

“He’s right. He said it’s really light for a V8.”

“Reeve’s an idiot. It’s not a V-anything.” He felt Aeris ease up a bit and drew a deep, shuddering breath himself. There were still tears trickling freely from his eyes, but he began to feel a bit calmer again.

“It isn’t? He said it was.”

“He assumed it was. I never let him look. Too much weight, not enough power. Size isn’t everything.”

“Then what is it?” Tifa didn’t deal in engines. She was asking for his benefit. Cloud didn’t care.

“Compression-rotary. Mythril-tipped apex seals, helps counteract the wear you’d normally see with that kind of thing.”

“I see.”

“It’s a secret, okay? I gotta figure out how to do a patent first. And if I want credit for anything, it’s that.” He told a joke. Ha ha.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

Cloud wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. “Is… is the bar running again?”

“...Not yet,” said Tifa after a moment. “I wanna get the window fixed first. Besides, how am I supposed to run the place when I’m missing a busboy?”

“You don’t need him,” said Cloud. “I heard he got suspended without pay once for threatening the customers. They shoulda fired him years ago.”

“As his manager, I have faith he can improve,” said Tifa. “He has a great work ethic. I’ve never once seen him back off on anything.”

“...I love you.”

“I love you too. Keep at it, alright?”

He was already dizzy from the fumes, but now he was dehydrated as well, and the world began to swim around him. He was too frazzled to motivate himself to do anything about it, so Aeris carefully edged him out of the bed herself and shuffled over to the sink, using the padded wall to balance herself. He filled his hands with water, since they hadn’t given him a cup, and took a sip.

His head cleared a little, then -- he wasn’t sure if the water was drugged as well, but it was cold and refreshing and at least did something to wake him up. Something occurred to him.

“Is it just you here? They said ‘family’.”

“Me and Barret and Nanaki. They’re having us use the phone one at a time. It’s… you can’t see them? They’ve been waving.”

He blinked. “No. Should I be able to?”

“Well, yeah, definitely. I mean, I’m looking at you right through the --”

The speaker clicked off suddenly.

“Tifa?”

There was no response from either her or his minder.

“Barret? Nanaki?”

He strained his ears, listening for any sort of sound. He could very faintly make out muffled shouting. Someone was angry. Maybe multiple someones.

“Oi, jackass! Give the phone back!”

He began to pace in his cell. Aeris suddenly cut in again.

It’s somewhere obvious. Somewhere anyone on the other side would think you could see, but you can’t. Why can’t you see it?

I don’t know. She’s looking right through the… camera? You can’t see through those. There has to be a window somewhere. A big one.

He began frantically combing the walls of his cell again. The mirror? He grabbed hold of the edges and wrenched it from the wall with a grunt, to reveal more padding behind it. There wasn’t anything he could see indicating there was a gap anywhere. The cloth seemed to be -- the cloth. The closer he got to it, the more he realised how sheer it was. Examining the torn edges, he could see it had a sort of sharktooth weave to it -- light could pass through one side and render it opaque, but from another…

Cloud created another fire in his hand and began feeling the walls, searching for any patch of it that looked as though there might be something behind it. The gas was flowing heavily now. Cloud held his breath. He only had seconds -- there was quite a lot of the stuff in his system already.

There -- a spot by the door, nearly as long as he was tall, where the light from the fire seemed to interact differently. He dug his fingers into it, but his arms had no strength left in them. Stars appeared at the corners of his vision. He was so close. They cut off his access to his family. Cloud decided the deal they’d had was off.

Cloud took in a lungful of air, enough to send him to his knees, but it gave him the burst of strength he needed. The flame in his hand flickered, then sparked, and then roared to life in an vortex that swept around the room. The noise was deafening, and Cloud was no longer devoting energy to controlling the fire, and even as he felt the heat began to curl painfully into his skin, he kept feeding it up until the minute he blacked out.

“We’re running out of time.”

“I know.”

The wound in his chest had been stitched closed. The stitching wasn’t particularly good, and they’d probably need to heal it properly very soon, but that wasn’t important right now. The little chunk of materia he was holding was the closest thing they’d had since this started at a real chance to fight back.

And yet, he hesitated. He got a vague sense of foreboding from the little opalescent ball clutched tightly in his fist. It was almost as though it didn’t like him. Maybe he was imagining it. He hadn’t even activated it yet, and it already felt like his hand was burning.

Still, he kept staring at it. Every breath he took was accompanied by steadily building discomfort, and the longer he held it, the further he felt like he was drifting away somewhere familiar. There were older, less-remembered places under this one, and the deeper he tried to breathe, the closer the low howling noise started to pull him --

Cloud was awakened by a sudden stabbing pain in his lungs, and began to cough immediately. The inside of his mouth was gritty with ash.

He must have been unconscious for about an hour, judging by the state of his cell. The padding in his cell was burnt off the walls, and there across from his bed was a large observation window. The glass seemed quite thick. Watching him were a couple nurses, and three cops. Cloud recognised one of them. Reno. None of them seemed to be looking at him at the moment.

Someone had moved him back to his bed, it seemed, and the blankets he’d had before had been replaced with new ones. There was soot all over the ceiling. His arm was heavily bandaged, and he could still smell scorched hair and burnt flesh.

Oh good, you’re not dead.

Seems like it.

Aeris made him get up and have another drink, which helped to wash away the grit in his mouth. They left you in here. Even though it’s all burnt up.

Yeah. I guess it’s not like there’s any other cell they could put me in where I wouldn’t just smash through the wall…

So it had been a bit of a rush-job. He supposed they must have started building as soon as they’d called in the WRO. Maybe it had been appropriated from a room they’d had already.

We know where they’re looking from, said Cloud, so we know they've got blind spots.

They also know we know, said Aeris. And they probably won't be too happy you set fire to your room.

If they're mad now, they're not gonna like the next part.

You have an idea?

Not yet. But we have something to make ideas around. That's a start.

His head was pounding, and he was dizzier than ever. He'd probably been breathing ash and sedatives for a while now.

So… said Aeris after a moment. You’ve been dating your boss?

I’ve exclusively dated my boss. She conscripted me for Avalanche, too.

That’s so trashy.

I know.

...Do you suppose we'd get along?

Dunno. He kept his face low to the sink, breathing the cool, fresh air around the running stream of water. I think talking to people scares her. You gotta force opinions out of her. It's stupid. I wouldn't mind if she just told me stuff.

You're one to talk. Getting answers from you is like pulling teeth.

Cloud ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth uncomfortably. That's different. You threw us into traffic. And I thought you were a doctor.

I am a doctor.

Not a real one. If you were a real doctor, we'd have issues.

There was a brief surge of annoyance from Aeris at his compliment. Cloud didn't bother to ask why. Maybe it was a cultural thing.

I'll have to go soon, said Aeris. I've tried to keep the notes as neutral as possible, but they'll start worrying if I lose contact for too long. And I need to start preparing for the trip over.

Come back soon, said Cloud.

I will.

Aeris vanished, and Cloud stumbled upon realising he hadn't actually been standing up on his own. Jenova flooded back into him, reclaiming what he'd managed to take for himself, but he fought harder this time. He was determined to get as much planning in as possible before he slipped under again, either due to the sedatives or Jenova.

The door was still intact. Big heavy fault door. There was probably a key. Maybe. There might not be a key. It could just be electronic. Or thumbprint based. Or...

He barely managed to make it back into bed before his mind quit on him. He'd had a flash of an idea, but it was swallowed up just as quickly. At least he wouldn't be lonely while he waited. Mother was here again. She sang him to sleep, the way she always had, and this time he tried to listen more closely.

Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. Let me in.

#the number i #spitegarbage #forfdorfsorf #cloud you moron

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persxphxne · 7 years ago

Text

Coincidences (Steve Rogers x Short!Reader)

Hello, readers, this is my first one-shot so please go easy on me. I’m actually contemplating if to make this a multi-part but we’ll see how this goes>.< And Enjoy!

Pairing: Steve x Short!Reader

Summary: Pre-CACW. You start off the day with people teasing you about the one thing you can’t control, your height. Then just when you thought your day couldn’t get worse it gets...better? You start seeing the same cute guy everywhere you go and you start to wonder if it is just a coincidence or fate.

Word Count:1,768

Warnings: A handful of swears.

(Y/N) – Your name

(L/N) – Last name

(s/c) – Skin colour

(B/F/N) – Best friend name

(F/R) – Favourite restaurant

(f/f) - Favourite food

>> Part 2

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry I didn’t see you there…and still, don’t,” the stranger smirks at his own retort before going on his merry way. Probably to a business meeting with CEO’s and shite based on the way his snazzy Kenneth Cole suit made him reek sophistication, it’s always those types that feel to need to be pompous jerks to everyone else. I mean, I know that my 5’2 frame isn’t helping to lessen the insults but still, you shouldn’t be so mean to someone you don’t even know. But then again, when you’re out here on these crowded streets of New York during lunch hour, who’s being nice? I’m lost in my thoughts when,

“Oomph!” my face meets stone and I violently get pushed, my bum becoming best friends with the floor. Oh wait, that’s not stone, it’s someone’s chest which is covered by a navy blue V-neck…someone’s rock-hard and muscular chest. I inwardly drool as I look up towards his face which now makes me want to melt. His baby blue eyes grant him just enough softness to complement his killer jawline and blonde hair, and not to mention the worry that he held in them which makes me smile. And let us not forget those perfectly sculpted lips which urge me to just crash-

“Sorry ma’am, I didn’t see you there.” Alright, fantasy over.

“Don’t worry, most people don’t,” I shrug away his hand that he oh so generously set out for me with my own (s/c) colored hand and raise myself up from the ground, dusting whatever specs of gravel landed on my Levi blue jeans and a cream-colored blouse.

“Pardon me, ma’am, I meant no disrespect. I was on my,” he seems to pause as if remembering something, “iPhone and wasn’t looking at where I was going.”

“If you say so…,” I sigh, “well I guess no harm was done so enjoy the rest of your day.” I begin to walk towards my intended destination only to hear a faint “wait” from behind me causing my body to instinctually turn in his general direction, only to see him jogging towards me.

“I didn’t get your name, I’m Steve Rogers at you service ma’am.” He puts out his right hand and I hesitantly, but eventually shake it with my own, seeing how my (s/c) hand fit in his pale one.

“It’s not like you need it…but mine’s (Y/N) (L/N), and there is no need to be so formal either.” My phone suddenly rings shifting my attention to the screen which vibrates with impatient texts from my friend. “And I have to run. Nice to meet you I suppose?” and I trot off before he could say anything in reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“What took you so long? Don’t tell me that you were…” she starts off, smiling a grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat.

“Whatever you are thinking, and I don’t even want to know what that is, didn’t happen” I dismissively whisper to (B/F/N), who has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We had agreed to meet at the nearest Panini shop for our lunch break and are currently sitting in one of the booths eating our sandwiches. And even though I arrived late they had ordered my favorite sandwich, which warmed my heart and made the annoyance of before fade a little bit. “I was caught up by this guy, well two guys actually…” I reply, thinking about the two contrasting men which hindered my arrival here.

“Oh I get it, you like that threesome foreplay…tsk tsk tsk, next time-”

“No!” I cut them off, and although I want to be annoyed I find myself chuckling at their words, “They bumped into me, separate times of course. One was a complete jerk, but the other was just a gentleman…like 20th century gentleman.”

“Sounds dreamy,” my friend replies amused at my description.

“That’s not even the half of it, he was muscular, but not like a body builder, and he had these baby blues that I could stare into for a long time. Not to mention his wavy-”

“Blonde hair?”

“Um, yes, how did you know?”

“That’s because Mr. Hottie with a body has just entered the building.” And then they proceed to wave their hand high in the air, which I quickly push back down, causing the impact to make a fairly loud sound. I turn to see if he notices and he catches my glance, giving me a toothy grin before scoping out the scene. (B/F/N) face brims with excitement and their eyes move as if they are following someone who was about to walk past us. They nearly have to hold back a squeal as the said person halts in front of our table, and it is none other than Steve Rogers.

“Hi um…Steve! What brings you to our table?” I ask him politely.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, (Y/N) right? I was supposed to meet my friends here but they haven’t arrived yet. Would you mind if I intruded for a moment?” “Intrude away!” (B/F/N) barges in, not even letting me get a word in. Steve looks slightly uncertain until I also give him a nod and he claims the seat directly next to mine.

And as fate would have it, his friends didn’t show up until an hour later, meaning that he got to spend all that time talking and eating with us. Not so surprisingly, this guy is pretty amazing despite my first impression which I will admit was clouded at the time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why do people think it’s okay to place necessities on the highest shelves without placing a footstool there? Like all that fighting for gender, race, and ethnic equality, where is my height equality? I try on my tiptoes one last time to see if I could reach the required seasoning to complete my dish, but just like my previous attempts, I fail again. Or, at least I believed I did until the container is placed in my hand when my feet land back on the ground.

“This is what you were trying to reach right ma’am?” The one and only Steve Rogers comes to my rescue.

“Yea, thanks, Steve, oh and you can call me (Y/N).” I look him up and down, noticing how his attire has changed to a white tank and jeans which I am not complaining about at all.

“Alright (Y/N), but it wasn’t a problem, I’m glad to help,”

“This is, like the hundredth time I’ve seen you today? Are you sure you’re not stalking me?”

“I can assure you ma’a-” I raise my eyebrows at him, “I mean (Y/N), that it was purely coincidental.”

“Mhm, so you say. Anyway, as thanks for saving the flavors of my dish, can I offer you din-”

“Oh Cap, are you done picking up the sodas? I swear I know you’re new to all this but-hi.” A red head female from another isle walks up to Steve, talking before she realizes that I am also present. Her hair frames her face while flowing past her shoulders, enhancing her already natural beauty. Not to mention that she had a body to match as her spandex tights and tank top portrayed all of her features that could make men and women alike drool.

“This is the girl who I was waiting with earlier, (Y/N), and (Y/N), this my partner, Nat.”

“Nice to meet you,” I shake my hands with hers, and as I glance up to her face I catch the quick and quiet eye conversation Nat and Steve were having before I finally let go. “Well I should be going, (f/f) isn’t going to make itself.” And as I walk away I begin to feel slightly crushed. Of course, it was just a momentary attraction, but…well, I guess I should have known that all the good ones are always taken.

“Wait!” I sense a bit of deja vu but this time keep my eyes focused on the freezer section in front of me. “I didn’t get to say it back there but-”

“The answer is no, I know. I’m sorry, I won’t intrude on you and your girlfriend again trust me.”

“Are you talking about Nat? She’s my partner…as in co-worker partner, we go on mi-meetings, meetings together,”

“Oh…well I still overstepped my boundaries and-”

“Forgive me for cutting you off again ma’am but what I wanted to say was yes, I would love,” he glances at my basket, “(f/f) for dinner tonight if you won’t mind having me.” And in that instant, my sour mood turned completely around, although still laced with shame.

“Oh, great, but are you sure that your friend won’t mind?”

“I’ll talk to her right now, why don’t I meet you at the dairy section in five minutes so that I could pay for the groceries and we could head to your place?”

“You don’t have to pay.” I attempt to protest but he gives me this look that makes me go quiet.

“I insist ma’am, I am also partaking of this dish so technically they are my groceries too,”

“…Thank you, Steve,” At the end of it all I just grin and kiss his cheek, which was tremendously difficult but still manageable, before going to complete my previous task. I glance back out of pure curiosity to see him giving me a warm smile before jogging off to where I last saw him and his friend. His smile encapsulated in my mind as it leaves a permanent smile on my face for the rest of the 5 minutes I spend picking up the last needed ingredients. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person

“Guys, the target is with me, await my signal,” Steve whispers into his ear com, starting to regret picking this position in the current mission.

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xxphoenixdownxx · 7 years ago

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Chapter 4 (FFXV - In Plain Sight)

What I am about to post is actually a deleted scene from Gladnis - In Plain Sight. It didn’t make the final cut and it’s not finished but it was just dragging on and I couldn't work out a way to move it from one point to the other. I also didn’t like the big time skip - eighteen months compared to six months, the first anniversary compared to the first date. It was also technically hiding from Prompto and Noctis and their moment of fame comes next chapter so I didn’t want to give them too much limelight lol

The original plan was to have Noct on Gladio’s side and Prompto on Ignis’ but then Prompto (bless him) says why can’t you do both. So then the scene would have shifted to the Restuarant then finally picked up at the Cinema but it was getting too long and fillery and there was no context or anything it was just me rambling and forcing them to stay stuff for the sake of it lol. I’m actually happy with the way Chapter 4 worked out, I mean it’s a bit short lol but I like it :D

Oh, fun fact! Touellia is the name of that random restaurant in Altissia in the plaza up from the Secretaries Estate/Square Enix, it’s like a bunch of chairs with a blue bannered fencing around it - it took a while but I managed to angle to camera just right to read the blue banners and Touellia is what it said lol.

It had been over eighteen months since the kiss and exactly a year to the day since they had finally started dating. If Cor had thought anything, nothing was said. When Ignis had arranged the meeting to discuss Prompto they half expected it to come up in conversation, but there was nothing. Not even the smirk Ignis had thought he'd seen, all professional and in Ignis and Gladio's eyes still none the wiser.

With their first anniversary coming up both Ignis and Gladio had different ideas of how to spend it.

"I have tickets to the midnight showing of Crystal Wars: Episode VIII The Last Royal," Gladio said one evening a week before their actual anniversary. They were at Noctis' apartment, Noctis has invited both of them and Prompto over for a movie night. Whilst Prompto and Noctis squabbled over what movie they were watching, Gladio had decided to help Ignis in the kitchen.

"Gladio, movies are not first-anniversary date material," Ignis said stubbornly. "What is, is a candlelit dinner for two at Touellia, the Accordian restaurant on the wharf."

"That is an extremely hard place to get reservations for, at least I had booked this tickets for enough in advance that we actually got VIP seating, free popcorn and free 3D glasses."

"I have reservations, it's amazing what an establishment will do when you dropped your title into a conversation," Gladio didn't know whether to be proud or appalled that Ignis had pulled rank in order to get dinner reservations. Actually, he didn't feel any of those things, he felt jealous. He waved the movie theatre tickets in front of his boyfriends face.

"Come on, you love Crystal Wars. You had all the memorabilia set when you were younger and a Toda the Tonberry bedspread. You also had, if I remember correctly a custom made Crystal Saber."

"Who had a custom-made Crystal Saber?"

"Specs did," Noctis answered Prompto's question as they both sidled up to the counter. Gladio and Ignis glanced at each other. How much had the younger two heard? They weren't exactly public about their relationship, neither of them wanting it to get back to Gladio's dad or Ignis' uncle and had decided against telling Noctis and Prompto for fear of being posted all over social media within five minutes of them telling them. No this sort of relationship was best kept between them and had been for over a year.

"No way dude!" Prompto's eyes widened as he reached over the counter and Ignis braced himself with excuses should the need arise. "You have tickets for the Premier of Episode 8?"

"What! Gladio, you're holding out on me!" Noctis said and Ignis stepped back as Gladio dodged out of the way of the two grabbing hands that tried to take the tickets out of his grasp. "Dude as Prince, you have to take me!" he demanded.

Gladio just laughed and stuffed the tickets in his back pocket. "Er no, that is not in my job description."

"Yes it is, you are to protect me out and about and if I go, you go…"

"You don't have tickets," Gladio pointed out and Noctis pouted.

"Fine, come on Prompto we're going to call people and use political persuasion to get us our own tickets…"

"You will do nothing of the sort," Ignis interjected, pointing a finger towards the Prince. "If you wanted tickets you should have done what everyone else had done to make it fair." Noctis harrumphed and stormed off to his room.

"You're one to talk," Gladio teased in Ignis' ear, Ignis jumped at the proximity of his boyfriend.

"That is for an entirely different reason," Ignis defended.

"What are you two whispering about?" asked Prompto in an equally low whisper. They hadn't realised that he had stayed behind after Noctis had stormed out and so the two sprung apart.

Gladio didn't like look Ignis had just given him, he smiled smugly then turned to their blonde friend.

"Maybe you could help settle something for us Prompto," Prompto had the right idea to look scared, even Gladio was wary of the look Ignis was giving them both.

Prompto held out his hands. "If this about who taped over the latest episode of MasterChef then I'm sorry, I need space for a Photography Seminar for class…"

Ignis' eyes twitched and Gladio sighed. He shot Prompto a warning glance as Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's…" Ignis paused, and Gladio put a tentative hand on his shoulder. He knew how much Masterchef meant to his boyfriend, and to hear that the latest episode he hadn't gotten round to watching yet had been taped over, must be hard on him. There were a few beats of silence as Ignis wrestled with his temper before he finally spoke. "We'll deal with that another time, what we really need is your opinion." He took a deep breath and Prompto looked apologetic, but mustered a small smile. "Gladio here has a date on Friday."

The change in atmosphere was almost laughable. Prompto went from one who was distraught and wracked with guilt to ecstatic and generally pleased. He gasped and clapped his hands together in glee, his wide eyes looking over at Gladio in admiration. Gladio, on the other hand, spluttered, his eyes wide in shock. What was Iggy playing at? He removed the hand that was resting on Ignis shoulder so quickly it was like the other man had given him an electric shock.

"Oooh, who's the lucky girl?" Prompto asked eyes wide and Gladio saw Ignis smirk. "How long?"

"A year," Gladio muttered, not answering the first question and hoping Prompto wouldn't ask again.

"Dude!" A hand shot out over the counter and punched Gladio's shoulder. "You've been dating someone a whole year and you haven't told us!"

Gladio scratched the back of his neck and risked a glance at Ignis, who in turn flashed him a small smile. Gladio knew he was still processing the loss of his TV show, but there was mischief dancing in his eyes. He was up to something and usually when Ignis was up to something it didn't bode well for the other three, least of all Gladio.

"Yes," Ignis said turning Prompto's attention back to him. "He has his reasons I'm sure, however, he plans to take them to the aforementioned movie premier…"

"Wow, lucky!" Prompto's eyes glazed over.

"However I'm trying to convince him that a movie premiere isn't first-anniversary date material," Ignis finished.

Prompto frowned and used his finger and thumb to stroke his chin. "Iggy has a point…"

"However this is a blockbuster movie premiere, all the celebrities will be going," Noctis stood at the doorway to the living area glaring at Prompto. "When I storm away, you're meant to follow," he pouted. Gladio and Ignis shared a glance. "I was halfway to my room, ranting and raving and wondering why you weren't responding."

"Let's just say, Gladio's significant other doesn't care for brown nosing celebrities. They may be a fan of the franchise however they deal with high profile people on a daily basis that attending a premiere doesn't appeal to them."

"Ooh, what does she do?"

Gladio grinned, two could play at whatever game Ignis was playing. Even if Gladio wasn't au fait on the rules, he knew when he was being thrown under the bus. "They're a personal assistant, secretary, general dogsbody, slave type for a spoilt rich brat."

It was Ignis turn to splutter…

#AuthorNotes #FFXV #Fanfiction

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knittingknerdy · 7 years ago

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Business Partners- Part 1

Prompt/Summary: Your business partner invites himself to your sister’s wedding

Pairing/Characters: Tony Stark x Reader, Natasha, Clint, Coulson, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Scott. Everybody

Warnings: cursing, drinking, reader is going to be a bit of an idiot later on. You should work on your communication skills. ;)

Word Count: 2085

Author’s Note: I am cutting this down to the wire. But this is my submission for @bionic-buckyb 5000 follower celebration!!!! I claimed the fake dating AU. As of posting this, the end isn’t finished. So I plan on eating pizza at home and try to get it done by the deadline. (I’m going to come back and tag people)

You sigh before pushing open the door to your office. If you could call it an office. You were the assistant to Steve Rogers, one half of the Stark Rogers technology corporation. Tony Stark oversaw the research and development, while Steve Rogers took those creations and implemented their use. They were a great team up until a few months ago.

Steve was on an extended leave of absence. Steve’s friend, James Barnes, was sick. Very sick. And they were both in Wakanda while James was being treated. You smiled remembering Steve’s face during your last video conference. He had said that Bucky (an adorable nickname for Barnes) seemed to finally be responding to the treatment. The look on Steve’s face was the happiest you’d seen him in months. Even before they left.

So Steve’s office sat empty unless you needed something out of it, but you still continued to work from your desk outside of his office. It felt a bit strange, like holding vigil, but you had stayed even when they offered you a different office. Before you could sit at the desk, your phone rang. The caller being the main reason for choosing not to leave.

“Thank you for calling Stark Rogers Technology, Mr. Roger’s office. How may I help you?” The greeting was automatic at this point, coming out in a rush.

“You know it’s me calling and yet every morning you answer like that.”

“I like to remind you I actually work here. I’m not just here to listen to you babble about your latest horrific dating story.”

“Ok, but you laughed so hard you cried at the last one. You can’t enjoy the stories and then insist you don’t want to hear them.” He paused. “Why are you answering the phone anyway? Where is your assistant?”

“I am the assistant, I don’t need an assistant. I’m perfectly capable of answering the phone. And, well, she isn’t here yet.”

“Hmmm, that’s odd. Barton recommended her and Coulson agreed. Maybe I’ll have to talk with them.”

His musing was interrupted by Natasha bursting through the door. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Mr. Stark texted me to deliver his coffee and the line was awful and then my card wouldn’t work on the door. It won’t happen again.”

You smiled at her before answering Tony. “Mr. Stark, you can’t complain that my assistant is late when she was in your office with your coffee. Which I know you don’t need because I rode up on the elevator with your assistant who had your order. And quit messing with her passcard access. Some of us have bosses who expect us to get work done.” You hung up the phone when all you could hear was his laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry about that Natasha. I can’t promise he’ll stop, but it’s honestly good natured. I can have someone from HR stop by if you’d like to talk to them.”

She looked genuinely shocked. “Um, no, thank you. I’ve honestly had to put up with a lot worse in this line of work. And they weren’t joking.” She smiled finally. “But thank you.”

“Great, because as much as it was a genuine offer, it was not something I wanted to deal with today.” You groaned and ran your hand through your hair. It was barely 8 am and it was already becoming unruly. “Speaking of which, do you have those patent files for me? I need to send the specs and my recommendations to Mr. Rogers.” You looked at your watch. “In an hour. This time difference is the worst.”

“Yes, right here. Oh! And I brought you coffee too. It’s just black. I didn’t know what you would want yet. But I can grab you something else.”

You paused halfway around the desk after grabbing the files. It felt strange to have someone bring you coffee. You had never really had to do that for Steve, he made his own special blend of tea since he was a bit of a health nut. To suddenly be in that position made everything feel a bit overwhelming.

“Is everything ok?” Natasha asked cautiously.

“Yes, sorry. It’s all a bit surreal. Black is fine. I normally take it with two sugars, which I have in my desk. And don’t feel like you need to get me coffee unless you are getting some for yourself. And turn in the receipts. It would be a work expense.”

Natasha smiled and flashed a small black card. “Coulson gave me one of these. Told me it was for expenses like that.”

“Of course he did. And make sure to buy yours with that too. Hopefully it will make up for dealing with Mr. Stark.”

Natasha smiled before settling at her desk.

You worked straight through the next hour. Pushing send on your email to Steve before your calendar notified you of your next meeting. You gathered up a pile of folders and headed to Tony’s office.

You offered a small smile to Clint Barton as you opened the door and walked inside Tony’s office. You paused for a moment before opening the door and looking back out at Clint. “Where is Mr. Stark?”

“He isn’t in.”

“Like he has a meeting or he’s gone off somewhere?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“The second one,” Clint answered.

“I’ll wait.”

“I have no idea how long he’ll be.”

You hold up your files. “I brought reading material. I can wait.”

You make yourself comfortable, but you don’t make it very far in your files before your phone rings. You look at the screen, hoping it’s Tony, but it’s actually your sister.

“Hey, what’s up?” you answer.

“Are you sitting down?”

“I am. Did you finally decide to elope?”

“Um, no. Scott finally decided on a best man.”

You feel your heart sink. “Oh?”

“It turns out Sam is going to be able to make it after all.” The line goes quiet for a few seconds. “Are you ok?”

You take a deep breath. “Of course!” You try to fake the cheer in your voice. “It’s been years.”

You hear your sister breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh thank goodness. I was so worried. I promise I’ll make this up to you. You are the best.”

You force yourself to smile through her platitudes and the promise of a great time at her wedding. When you hang up, you groan and lay your head down on Tony’s desk.

You didn’t notice the door opening. “Meeting with me isn’t that bad.”

You sit up suddenly. “Oh, Mr. Stark. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Everything ok?”

“My sister is getting married.”

“Now, I’m an only child, but I was lead to believe this sort of thing was a happy occasion.” Tony casually leans on the front of his desk.

“It is.”

“Is the guy awful? I’m rich enough. I’m sure I could have him killed.”

“What? No! Scott is amazing. It’s his best man.”

“Did he break your heart?”

You looked surprised. “Actually, yes.”

It was Tony’s turn to look surprised. “Really? You don’t seem like the type. Your escapades are almost as legendary as mine.”

You scowl at Tony. “A. That’s not true. B. He’s the reason why.” You sigh. “I will have to spend the whole wedding weekend trying to convince everyone I’m happy with my life. Which I am. And that I’m over Sam. Which I also am.”

The two of you fall silent as you finish your rant. You shuffle the files on your lap and pull out the one you need to discuss.

“Anyway,” you start.

“Take me with you.” Tony interrupts.

“What?”

“To the wedding. They’ll be so distracted by me, they won’t notice you.”

“Well, first we need to do something about that ego of yours. And no, that isn’t happening. I can’t just show up to my sister’s wedding with my boss in tow.”

“I’m not technically your boss.”

“Of course you aren’t. Which is why I call you Mr. Stark,” you snap back.

He leans down closer to you. “No, you call me Mr. Stark because I like hearing you call me Mr. Stark.” He bites his lower lip before smirking at you. “It makes me all tingly.”

You glare at him in return. “I will call HR.”

“Fine!“ Tony throws up his arms and moves around his desk to sit. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“I have the files you sent. I’m returning them with the notes Mr. Rogers and I made.”

“So this was a meeting that could have been an email.”

“Also,” you draw the word out, “We have a video conference with Mr. Rogers on Thursday. He has made it very clear you need to be there. No excuses. No running off. Please.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of missing it.” Tony smiles suspiciously. “Now, out! Don’t you have work to do.”

You roll your eyes as he shoos you out of his office.

The conference call was set for 9 pm on Thursday. Clint was supposed to call you if Tony tried to leave the building. And you felt bad about keeping him so late to baby sit his boss. So far it had been silent, but you didn’t put it past Tony to sneak out. Not that he made it a point to miss these meetings. But it was rare Steve asked for the two of you to be there. And Tony tends to be focused on his research and gets a bit distracted. Lots of things distract him.

Which is why you were floored when he was in the conference room before you.

“You’re here,” you say with surprise. “Not just here, you’re early.”

“You said this was important.”

“This is literally the first time you have listened to me when I’ve told you that.”

“First time for everything.” Tony smirks at you as the conference line begins to ring.

You press the button to connect and smile when you see Steve on the screen. “Hello, Mr. Rogers.”

“Hi. Thank you both for taking this call. I have a few things to cover, so I thought we would get straight to it.” Steve starts.

You nod and look at Tony. He is sitting there smiling at you like he just got away with something. You squint at him suspiciously but turn back to Steve.

“So, Bucky is doing great. The doctors are thrilled with his progress. But they can’t guarantee that he won’t need more treatment in the future. Also, we love Wakanda. We’ve made a home here. So we’ve decided to stay. Permanently.”

You try to school your face into something neutral. While you’ve managed the past few months, it has been difficult. Just getting an approval required nearly a full day of waiting.

Steve continues with a soft smile. “Which is why I’ve decided to retire and promote you to COO, Y/N.”

There was no chance to keep your face neutral with that announcement.

“What?”

“It’s too difficult to keep this up. You’ve pretty much been running my division for months now.”

“But you make the final approvals,” you interject.

“Completely following your recommendations. I’ve agreed with all of your decisions. I know I can trust you with this.”

You finally turn to Tony, thinking to see your shock mirrored on his face. What you see is just an even bigger smile than the one he sported earlier. He knew. He knew what this meeting was about. The bastard.

It finally sinks in that the both of them are waiting for an answer from you. “Can I have time to decide?”

“Of course. It’s a big decision to make on the spot. I’d be a little disappointed if you said yes immediately.” Steve said.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Tony,” Steve chastised. “I’ll let the two of you get home. Thank you for meeting with me.”

When the video call ended, you sat there trying to process what had just happened. Steve was right. He had agreed with all of your recommendations and suggestions. It had started with just a few reports, but after a while, he wanted your input on everything before you sent it to him.

Tony spoke quietly, shaking you from your stupor. “Why don’t you take tomorrow off? Think about your decision.” You nodded. “If it helps any, I fully support this idea.”

You’re still a bit bewildered as the two of you leave the conference room.

#kaits5kauchallenge #AU #Tony Stark x Reader #Tony Stark #Marvel AU #Reader insert #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Natasha is scary

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fromtheground39-blog · 5 years ago

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The Best OLED on the Market! - Sony A9G Review

youtube

wait. Did we edit the restream? No, but it streaming on YouTube, so someone must have done it. Maybe AJ did it. I don't know I just will find out if we are alive hi. Everyone, hey welcome to the wine, show we're off to a fantastic start. Today, we've got a lot of great topics for you. We just finished filming scrapyard wars. So in the comic moments we are gonna be giving you all the spoilers. I'M totally doing it's gonna be like two months before everything's out, but we had a lot of fun. That'S what we were shooting all we know I'll, give you the details. I know fun. I actually didn't have any fun. Maybe we'll talk a little bit. What else we got going on? Oh, yes, AMD's prices are rising, Intel's prices are getting it slashed, it turns out, competition works, doesn't it what else we got going on? There'S some Google's getting sued for like a whole ton of money and a whole ton of people are gonna, be getting like 750 pounds or 925 u.s. dollars each. What really? Oh yeah! It'S it's huge, we'll talk about that later, also jiu-jitsu into Microsoft. Dual screen devices they recently had a product launch or not product launch yeah, an announcement ignite and there's some actually genuinely pretty interesting devices. Commandeth there's some really cool. Looking stuff, Microsoft has been a fun company for a while. First, let's look at the intro whoa Wow. So good Wow, amazing, graphics, [, Music, ], not that big Wow, okay, I'd be lying. If I said, there's not a little bit of salt from this season of scrapyard. Worse that do you think it's fair to say salty. This is the most dramatic we've had, and I mean drama in like a salty sense, salty drama. No, you don't think so, for which one was for Oh with Paulin Kyle. No, no, no, those! Five! That'S five! There was a fair bit there. Where was Bob and Ron? Ah, because that was the only time there's been aesthetic, so there was a lot of chirping because the aesthetic yeah, I guess, there's that you know what I don't think it was like genuine drama, though we'll, let you guys we'll, let you guys be the judge. I don't know you guys were kind of dicks, so were you guys? So maybe there was some genuine drunk? Why don't we jump right into our title topic to start with, just because people seem to like that for some reason s imagine why? Yes, so the source here is from Anandtech intel has slashed the pricing of their high-end h, EDT processors. That'S not to say that the pricing of the CPUs that were already on the market are going anywhere. It'S just that great post to read in much the same way that they used to do like back in the day when they kind of just released new chips that were faster just for the lulz of it, a lot of the time it seems yeah. They have come in and they're giving you kind of. You know something similar for less money or something better for the same amount of money and joie. Here it comes so here's the summary the astonishingly stupidly named core, I 9 10 9 8 exe woof. Now, that's a that's a name, it's something! I don't think it's a name because there are actually more numbers than there are letters in there. That'S a number. Are there hold on a second, we got six numbers, we got. Oh, we got seven letters never mind. It is technically more name than number or more number now than man twisted me. So we get a small base clock or we excuse me. We get no base clock boost hold on a second here. Yes, we do hold on no right. Here'S the spares! We get an all core boost of 3.8 gigahertz. We get turbo boost 2 of 4.6 and turbo boost 3 of 4 point 8, and this is a 165 watt part, but none of that's exceptional that is very similar to the 99 8 exc. We already had what is exceptional is that it is now half the price. It is 980 dollars instead of a cool 2 grand - and I remember talking about this back when Intel launched their 18 core flagship, I was like hold on a second. You guys didn't launch, like you guys, didn't launch a new generation. This is not a new like it is a new flagship. How do I explain this? You guys didn't replace. You know the previous flagship you guys just shut up. I was loud yeah. Sorry, you guys didn't replace the previous flagship you just like added a new flagship on top of it. Cuz thousand dollars was basically the Extreme Edition price for the longest time and we were like oh well. Here'S one for 2, grand and somes. Looking at this going, you guys have you guys. You clearly have an innovative you've different categories. Yeah, you just you went, took a server product. That was like super super scarce hard to make, and you made it a desktop product and you just charged way more for it. Ok, I guess that's a strategy. If you know all of a sudden AMD has thread rip renew like oh so anyway, now that AMD has and nothing against, first gen, Rison or first gen thread Ripper or any of that stuff, nothing against those chips, but they they were competitive, but they weren't a Class-Leading, except at the at the lower end where, yes, they were a class-leading, but only in certain workloads. Now second gen, then, is class-leading in many workloads and then very close in one of those, some of the ones that intel has traditionally been very dominant in so Intel for the first times. I'M trying to remember the last time because Intel's one of those companies where a lot of the way they sell product - and you can interpret this. However, you want frankly, I don't care, but a lot of the way that they sell product is not by the specs and the price, and any mature company wants to get to that point. That is, that is a comfortable position to be in where, instead of having to scrap it out, like you know, you look at. You know entry-level Android phones, instead of having to scrap it out over who has two more pixels per inch on their display and who has you know, eight more megapixels on their rear camera or whatever the case may be. You want people to buy your phone because you made it not because it's like slightly better more spec here you want that that trust yeah and that I bought this thing three times in the past. It'S worked well for me every time I'm gonna. Do it again, so a lot of intel's sales strategy is not around just like having the highest gigahertz, it's marketing, it's building, partnerships, it's building infrastructure and like logistics to actually be able to distribute chips all over the world. I mean it's all fine and good to have a great CPU, but if no one in Europe can get their hands on it at a reasonable price and that doesn't do you any good. So so it's all those more business, see corporate II, things that they've that they're well established and that they're very good at you know forecasting making sure they have enough chips. Although it's been a bit of a rough year as far as that goes for both of them, apparently, generally speaking, those are things that Intel's been very good at and they tend to be quite aloof. To you know a particular SKU that you know performs quite well and is selling quite well like even back when I was at NCIX, you know, AMD would have chips that moves really well, like. I remember the Phenom 720 black or something like that. This was an unlocked triple core. If I recall correctly, please don't quote me on that, but that thing moved like billy-o, because AMD had lots of cheap motherboard options out there. So you could get a. I mean, not amazing, but you could get a feature complete. Like a good enough motherboard for like 70 bucks, I remember like 72 73 dollars like somewhere in that range. You throw one of these triple cores on there and all of a sudden. You'Ve got something that games well enough and it's got like one more core than you were gonna have if you went Intel - and it's like a this - is this - is a pretty good time at this price point yeah yeah at that price point it was outstanding And Intel took forever to counter it because they were just like we're not gonna we're, not gonna, like trade potshots on ask you by SKU basis, we're just gonna have a stack and we're going to. You know market ourselves as a solution provider, blah blah blah, etc, etc, etc. So, the last time that I can remember them, responding this directly to a competitive threat has to be Athlon 64, I mean, and even then even then Intel went to market when AMD launched. The Athlon FX 51 okay Intel responded with an Extreme Edition chip. I think, was like a galatin core Pentium 4 with hyper threading. Like three point: four six gigahertz like furnace of a chip - and it was it - was based on their server, something something like it was. Actually kind of a similar response, but get this it was slower, it wasn't as good, but they priced it on par with AMD's, offering as if to make a statement that, like it's Intel, it's our bestest bestest thing. Therefore, you know it cost that much and people will buy it and you know what people did buy it. I remember I used to I used to spend so much time on online forums just like helping people configure systems because it was a hobby for me. You still spend oh not doing that, but you still spend a fair amount. Well, yeah, okay, specifically yeah the kind of person who hung out in what was the venn equivalent of our slash, build a PC and just waited for people to. I was sitting there waiting for people to post what they wanted to do with their system and I'd put together a recommended spec list, and then I'd get. So I would argue with people about their configurations. Cuz people would come in and they'd be like I'm gonna, buy this extreme edition, TM thing and I'm like that's dumb and they're like yeah, but I want until I like Intel like. No, no you don't like Intel Intel is not theirs, they're, not emotional. They don't reciprocate your love. They they they're out and to be clear AMD is no different. Don'T kid yourself? They don't reciprocate your love. You are a customer, that's that's the relationship here yeah, and so you should not be buying what is objectively worse for the same price and they go well. It doesn't make that much of a difference. You know it's like 5 % different in this game and 10 % different in that game. You'D never noticed, and I go. Who cares? Why would you ever knowingly get less for your money like that is offensive to me on such a such a deep level to go in and like knowingly eyes wide open be like here is more of my money. Please give me less of something worse. Thank you. This has been a tremendous transaction, but even at even at the darkest times. Okay, there's some stuff, if you were trying to evaluate based off of this, has never really been that big of a problem for CPUs but yeah. If you're trying to evaluate based off of like okay, I've had experience with their customer support or I've had its transient reliability. That'S I know, and I know that's not what you're commenting on they're all pretty darn, reliable, both AMD and Intel. Yes, it's kind of irrelevant here, I'm just saying in general. Some of those arguments can have some validity to it, but usually no, I just always used to get so mad, because Intel would do these things and they would just get away with it. I mean the number of people, so I was working PC advisor at NCI X when I'm changing. I'M changing gears a little bit here when Nvidia launched the GTX 480, which was a steaming pile of hot garbage, literally hot, maybe not literally garbage, but given how many of them probably burned themselves into a crisp yeah, I'm sure, I'm sure quite a few them ended Up in the electronic scrap heat for, like you, know, scrap gold recovery, and I - and I would just like - I would just hate that people are like no. No I'm needy force likes. People would have legitimate reasons. Like look, I'm a kuda developer, I'm like sure. Okay. Well, then, you should probably buy four GTX 480 s and cram your PCI Express slots full of GTX 480 s lot of fun. But you know people who are like yeah, I'm playing this game or that game. It always made me so mad. It was actually because of my insistence that my position is PC Advisor was a non-commissioned position, because that way I could be free to tell people whatever they actually needed to know yeah and when they asked me, are you on Commission, which many did many people asked Me if I was it's a valid question, I would always say: no, because I wasn't, I did get a monthly bonus for being the PC advisor, but it was a flat monthly bonus. I just got like $ 300 a month or something like that for monitoring that email address. What else was I gonna talk about yeah? Oh just fan, fanboys really make me mad. I remember this one time I was doing yeah I freaked out on stream, not that long ago, like it actually had close to a breakdown, because there was this giant war going on on the stream about Linux versus windows, yeah, and I just I was trying to Get it to just stop for so long and it just wouldn't stop, and then I just kind of spaz Dal ittle bit and it was like shut up. It'S whatever's proper for that situation. It'S what it they both have positives of benefits, and it was funny because not that long after I released that video people were so mad about, like the funny thing is, I would love to see the numbers for what percentage of the people who were mad about That video daily drive windows and to be clear, I know, Windows, isn't perfect. Yeah, there's problems with Microsoft's data collection, there's problems with basic functionality, not we're gonna. Do you remember how long it took them to get the Start menu working its? You know the same issues. In my opinion, it still has some issues but remember when it just actually didn't work at all yeah yeah I mean the search is so bad yeah. It is shockingly bad, like I search, is so much better than Windows. 7 holy cow. I am far from an expert programmer. Let'S, let's get that out of the way, but I am pretty sure I am pretty sure that it would be fairly straightforward for Microsoft to create some kind of demon that runs and just indexes every file name of every and like sorts it by okay. These are executables, these are probably the most important ones. These are batch files. These are probably less important and just searches against that. It would be your instantaneous and if you can't do it, and so even when it does turn up the right result, you'll type, something in it for seconds later it comes up. The result. You'Ve got your. It comes up with some like stupid result and you're about to click the right thing and it like it moves and you clicked the wrong thing. You'Re like what are you actually doing? I had to know very recently on my work PC, which is the only computer. I work on that is running. What is 10? I even the apt Windows 10 off my laptop, which now it doesn't even like some of the Razr stuff, is all derped. Oh because that, but whatever I typed in Mouse yeah, because I wanted to check to fit with my mouse and it showed the actual like Mouse settings thing yeah for a second and then it disappeared entirely and just nothing was there. Yes, I deleted the word and retyped yeah Mouse and then it showed up properly and I was like okay yeah. Where did it go? Do you want to search the web for mouse yeah? No, why did it leave if I wanted to search the web for mouse? I would have opened my Chrome browser and searched the web for Mouse. It'S just probably already open because that's how like people use computers now yeah so Wow yeah, browsers, remember that now, like I remember, I used to get really annoyed with my mom because, like back in the Windows, 3.1 Windows 95 days, she didn't understand the difference between Minimize and exit, so I would always get onto the computer and it would be super chuggy because everything she had minimized, absolutely everything she was doing. I was like yo, like my program, can't run because you are using literally all the computer's memory. She'D be like. I closed it all anyway, where I was going with the fanboy thing is I remember one of the most frustrating systems I ever had to build was on this motherboard. This was like a super niche. Where is it where's the pictures on Tom's? How are we going really throwing this video all over the place, though ya know this is really annoying. It was this super niche platform socket 1207 socket F. This was my god. The ads grow up a little bit just pause right there. This is all ads Wow. All this all this all this all this and all this Oh cow - I just I just I didn't see that for a second that is actually it's almost admirable at a certain like they have they have put. They have crammed more ad in there than I would have thought possible. Yeah you congratulated for that. I guess here it is so this was that, like the stupidest motherboard ever been, visit this site right here can I can I find a picture this thing so AMD adapted their server platform, which wasn't completely dead at the time, even though their desktop was like dying, a fast death in terms Of competitiveness and was like okay, we're gonna go after Intel on core count and they built this platform called four by four. So I don't know why they called it four by four: maybe it was four PCI Express slots for cores times two sockets. I don't know anyway, you can put two quad core 2 quad core processors in it. If I recall correctly - and I remember - building this system and just like it driving me absolutely nuts, because the thing was so oversized - it's 24 pin like mid yeah. The design of the board is terrible because I'm sure they rushed this thing because no one like they knew that's wrong, like a few hundred people were gonna buy it like nobody was gonna buy this stupid thing. The performance was terrible. The power consumption was terrible and I was just like looking at it going why? Why would anybody buy this and it was? It was like not. It was not a great board because what tends to happen at the very high end, you can buy a six seven. Eight hundred dollar motherboard and get a very, very poor experience, because the thing is the BIOS development that goes into a board is kind of not quite but kind of the same, regardless of whether you sell 500 of them, five thousand 50 thousand five hundred thousand of Them, and so it's like okay - well, where do we sink the the little bit of extra polish into the one? That'S going to turn into five hundred annoyed customers on the asus forum or the one? That'S gonna turn into five hundred thousand annoyed customers on the issues forum da, like it's usually better, to buy the mainstream thing than the super halo niche things. From my experience, we've had experience yeah I was just gonna say. We'Ve had experiences had experience with that many times. Actually. Here we go especially back in the house. I remember that quite a few times, AMD's quad FX, technically quad core. Oh wait no hold on each physical nevermind. It was. It was dual course and then two sockets. So that you had a total of four course, of course, you're dealing with Numa nodes and like let's go ahead and have a look at what the performance looked like compared to here's gaming performance. So this was a gaming machine. I was building like it's just so I'd have people say: well, it's not that far behind Conroe, it's like, so what it is behind and it's a terrible value. Where'S the power consumption numbers is like just this thing was just such

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spacs · 7 years ago

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IgNoct-" things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear" please. thank you :)

So basically I’m deciding between two things because I still have this prompt twice, both for ignoct. More details at the end. Anyway, thank you so much for this! This is a fan.tas.tic prompt for these two and I was really hoping someone would send it! And it was sent twice, so boom. I hope you enjoy, anon!

It was their first night in Galdin Quay. They’d splurged onthe suite with plenty of alcoholic beverages in celebration of getting theRegalia fixed. The following morning they would be helping out that reporter,Dino-something, so they could move on to Altissia. For now, however, they wereenjoying card games and drinks as a group.

When Prompto begged him to go down to the beach for somephotos, Noctis relented. The blond had used his best pout and besides, Noct hadquite a few drinks in him at this point so it shouldn’t be too bad. Gladio andIgnis declined to offer to join and the shield poured both of them anotherdrink.

The beach was nice. It was warm but a cool breeze blewthrough and kept both of them comfortable in the sticky, salty, sandy air. Thewind ruffled Noct’s hair, making for quite a few funny looking pictures – a lotof which turned out to be fuzzy or blurry because Prompto was having a hardtime holding the camera still.

During one of their giggling fits, Prompto spotted Ignis onthe balcony of their room. He grinned like a maniac and pulled Noct by the armto hide underneath. He shushed Noct’s quiet giggles. “I’m gonna take a coupleshots then we can make weird sounds and freak him out,” he whispered, his wordsslurred.

The sliding door to the room opened and Gladio’s heavyfootsteps sounded above them as he joined Ignis on the balcony. Prompto fistpumped and motioned for Noct to stay where he was while he tripped his way intoa different position for a better angle. The prince tried to silence himself ashe fell back onto the sand.

“So what’re we doin’ out here?” Gladio asked after a long momentof silence.

“Trying not to think,” Ignis answered, his voice low andonly carrying just loud enough for Noct to hear.

The shield’s sigh that followed was deep and the boards ofthe balcony creaked as he leaned against the railing. “About the wedding,” hefilled in the remainder of the sentence. “So you’re still…”

Ignis’ laugh was bitter and through the cracks of the boardsNoct looked up to see him drop his head between his shoulders. “I am so in lovewith him,” he confirmed.

Noctis felt like his heart stopped in his chest and suddenlyhis legs felt as if they weighed a million pounds. He was rooted to the spot, inebriationmaking his head swim and Ignis’ confession echoed through his thoughts. In love with him. The prince put a handover his mouth as his breath started to come too quickly and his heartbeatsounded like thunder in his ears.

“I am such a fool,” Ignis continued, completely unaware ofthe conflict in the sand beneath his feet.

“Nah,” Gladio said back, slinging an arm over the advisor’sshoulder. “You just have bad taste in men.”

A scoff. “Noct couldn’t be further from bad taste.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with pining for an engaged future-king,who you technically work for?” Gladioasked sarcastically.

“That aside, Noct is…” Ignis paused, searching. “Wonderful.”

“You’re drunk,”Gladio chuckled.

“Drunk and sad,” Ignis replied in disgust, the last wordrolling off his tongue like a curse.

Silence followed and Noct could only stare up at his friendsfrom below the balcony. Quiet footsteps in the sand drew his attention away asPrompto returned, the look on his face clear. “Dude,” he whispered.

“C’mon, let’s go back inside,” Gladio pulled Ignis away fromthe rail. “You’ll sleep this off and feel better.”

The advisor snorted but let himself be led inside, leaningheavily against the larger man. “More, I’ll sleep and be able to repress again.”

The door closed behind them with a click that made Noctwince. Prompto was staring at him wide-eyed, his camera still poised in hishands. “Dude,” he repeated, with moreurgency.

“Shut up,” Noct bit back, but the blond seemed undeterred.

“Iggy’s crushing on you,” Prompto hissed.

“Yeah, I got it,” Noct jerked his thumb upwards to theirroom. “Can we go, please?”

Prompto nodded and stumbled as they stood. He had to drapehimself across Noct so the prince could help him walk. “I’m not gonna rememberany of this,” he muttered into Noctis’ shirt.

The prince just hummed in response and half-carried Promptodown the docks and back to their room. Gladio was about to close the door tohis shared bedroom with Ignis before Noct caught his attention. “Help,” Noctpleaded, trying to hoist the blond up.

The shield chuckled and moved to help him, helping Nocttransfer their sleeping friend into Gladio’s arms. “Switch rooms with me?” Noctasked as Gladio swung Prompto up bridal-style.

He shrugged. “Sure. Iggy’s already sleeping though, so justbe quiet.”

“Already?”

Gladio nodded, adjusting Prompto in his arms when the blondmade to nuzzle against his chest. “Yeah he had a lot. Too much. He’s good at hiding it until he’s really tired so Imade him lay down and then he was out.”

Noct nodded, casting a glance to where Ignis was sleepingbehind the door. “Okay,” he answered. “Get him a trash can for the morning,” headded, gesturing to Prompto. “He’s going to hurl when he wakes up.”

A look of disgust crossed Gladio’s features. “Great.”

With that, they separated into their shared rooms. Noctispadded into the bedroom, his thoughts still one-tracked but hazy. Ignis was onhis side, facing inward on the bed. His head was balanced on his arm,outstretched over his head, and his lips were parted as he slept. Gladio hadneglected to remove the advisor’s glasses, so when Noct climbed into bed nextto him, he gently pulled the spectacles over his nose. The advisor stirred, hisface scrunching at the intrusion which was probably the cutest thing Noctis hadever seen Ignis do and it made his heart beat in a funny way.

“Noct?” Ignis asked groggily when his eyes zoned in on theprince.

“Gladio switched rooms with me,” he whispered back, glassesstill in hand.

“Is something the matter?” If not for the slur in Ignis’speech, Noct would hardly know Ignis was anything but tired.

He shook his head in reply. “No, Prompto is just reallydrunk and I can’t carry him.”

Ignis nodded and his eyes fell closed again, nestling downinto the bed with a soft smile and, okay, thatwas the cutest thing he had ever seen Ignis do. Noct stretched over Ignis’torso to toss his glasses on the side table nearest to him when he heard asharp intake of a breath. “Noct, what—”

“Your glasses,” Noctis said hurriedly, backing off. “Justputting your glasses down. Sorry.”

Ignis blinked slowly at him then shook his head. “No apologynecessary. You only startled me.” His head went back down and his eyes closedonce more as he took a deep breath. Noctis shuffled under the blankets andstarted to turn to face away from Ignis when the advisor quietly murmured, “Butit’s nice to have you near.”

The prince stopped again, looking over his shoulder. He bithis lip nervously, then turned back around. He settled down on the bed thenslid over to Ignis, bringing both his arms between their bodies before nestinghis head under his advisor’s chin. This time Ignis didn’t flinch. Instead, hisarms uncoiled and slid around Noctis’ waist to pull him in. Lips connected withNoct’s forehead with a brief kiss before Ignis rested his cheek on top of hishead.

It felt like something out of a dream – a dream Noct had hadbefore. Sometimes in a romantic context and other times… well, they had lessclothes on. He’d always known his feelings for Ignis went beyond friendship andprivately he’d admitted that it was probably love. But hearing Ignis drunkenlyconfess to Gladio has only confirmed his own feelings but solidified the despondencythat a ‘something-more’ relationship was unattainable.

They were on the way to his wedding. To Luna, who, Noct reminded himself, was absolutelyfantastic. But she wasn’t Ignis. Butterflies didn’t flutter in his stomach atjust the mention of her name. While he cherished their shared journal, it didn’tfill him with excitement just to talk to her every day. He didn’t want toalmost always be around her. No, thatwas Ignis. Ignis, who would stay late even when he had to be at class in themorning, just because Noct had a rough day at school. Ignis, who, despite therumors, had an amazing sense of humor and never failed to make Noctis laugh. Ignis,who’s mere presence was like gravity and Noct always found himself hoveringjust to be near him.

And now Ignis had his arms wrapped tightly around him andwas taking steady, content breaths as he drifted back to sleep. Noct tilted hishead up to kiss Ignis’ jaw.

“Goodnight Specs.”

“Sleep well, love.”

I am fascinated by a drunk-Ignis. I don’t think it’s something that would happen often, but I find it very interesting.

Okay so my options are: I have a second idea for this prompt. It’s something I’ve been itching to write (and I’ll probably write it even if I go with option two) and it fits pretty well with this prompt, just slightly off. But the prompts are more like guidelines rather than actual rules (thanks POTC). Now option two would just a continuation of this. It would be a chapter two of this since I have a few idea for the morning after. We all know that I love a good morning-after fic (aka the entire premise of give me shelter).

So if anyone has any opinion on that, let me know. The likelihood of me writing both is fairly high, especially if I keep up with this roll that I’m on. But if anyone has an opinion, that’ll be the one that gets done first/at all. Just drop me an ask or a comment on the AO3 post.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, anon! And to the other anon that also requested this prompt, I hope you enjoy too! If either one of you that sent this have a opinion on what you’d rather see, just let me know.

#ignoct #final fantasy #ffxv #ignis scientia #noctis lucis caelum #p: my writing #ff: ffxv

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theragamuffininitiative · 8 years ago

Text

Newsies Live, a review of sorts

So it’s looking like the reply I wrote up last night for @party-with-books on mobile, during a wifi issue, is just not going to ever post and is lost to the netherworld, which is unfortunate because, even if nothing I said was coherent, I wrote it while everything was still fresh and I was still on the most beautiful ecstasy high - the kind you can’t get arrested for. But I’m gonna try to do the play justice here, and using a lot of gifs, XD so we shall see.

Guys. Guys. Guuuuyyysssss. I just can’t. Let me start by saying I have never seen a stage production of Newsies. I’ve been listening to the soundtrack for months, but for a lot of the bits the stage show has added or edited from the original film’s story, I had absolutely zero context for, and the soundtrack is sadly missing like a crap ton of reprises. Therefore, if you care about spoilers, I suggest you stop reading this and wait for the dvd to come out or something, because I don’t feel like holding anything back.

After that note, where the heck do I even begin? The production itself. And by that, I don’t just mean the sets and the cast and the lighting and the camera. Nah, primarily at this point, I mean Spectacle.

I’ve now seen a good number of shows, in various formats, but none of them have been so energetic, alive, and overwhelming. The dancing is superb. I know for the filming they pulled out all the stops, with bigger leaps, more twirls, and a larger number of Newsies on stage, and let me tell you, IT WAS WORTH IT. A stage filled with forty or more singing, tap-dancing, leaping Newsies is a sight to behold.

I mean, there was this:

This is Ryan Steele, as Specs, doing the full-out twirl. Our Specs was played by the amazing Jordan Samuels, but it’s a different cast member entirely who performs this move, and we get a sky high view of the spin, which I’m pretty sure is faster and longer, and the entire theater gasped and applauded.

There were hundreds and hundreds of flips, spins, cartwheels, splits, jumps, tricks, and moves I cannot name. There was tap dancing on tables. I HAVE NEVER SEEN A DANCING TROUPE OF THIS LEVEL OF EXCELLENCE IN SUCH AN EXTRAVAGANT SHOWING EVER.

The set and staging was absolutely dynamite, and it will never cease to astound me how theatrical productions can amass an entire world on a few hundred feet of stage.

Near the end of “Once and For All” the Newsies completely drop out on the vocals and then come roaring back in, and again, my entire theater gasped in awe and delight, and I was crying and covered in goosebumps.

As for Jack...

Jeremy Jordan is the definitive Jack Kelly for me, okay?

If you’re a die hard Christian Bale or Corey Cott fan or anyone else, I’m sorry, but it’s true. There will never be another player who so fully encompasses that role for me. His Jack is so intense and passionate the. entire. time. Every single thing he says and does. The only moments we see him physically relax at all are when he’s with Crutchie (and we’re too busy crying to notice) or sharing the stage with Katherine.

And that brings me to Katherine Plumber. I was not especially anticipating her role, I have to admit. I love my Denton too much, and I was horribly concerned that the romantic angle between her and Jack would be too strong, taking away from the real love story of the play, that of this family whose name is Newsies. But I couldn’t be happier with her character and Kara Lindsay’s performance. She was amazing, and I could feel the rest of the audience connecting with her too. “Watch What Happens” is just one of her shining moments, and I am in love with her, and so happy of the way the writers brought her character in.

It’s also beautiful to weave in the feminine vocals of Katherine with the only other female singing cast member, Medda Larkin (our very own being played by Aisha de Haas) in the middle of all those guys. Don’t get me wrong, because the Newsies chorus is the epitome of what makes the show so great, but having those softer moments and the gals singing brings enough of a change that it completely enlivens every other male vocal in the story.

Okay, enough being calm, rational, and technical for a minute. Let me “be real.”

I Am Not Okay. Not in this or any other universe will I ever be the same.

(The rest of this post is probably going to just be me screaming at random about different things.)

CRUTCHIE. HOLY COW. CRUTCHIE MY BABY. “Letter From the Refuge” absolutely killed me. THE FREAKIN ATTACK ON CRUTCHIE FREAKIN KILLED ME. Just him standing with Jack in the prologue with “Santa Fe.” THERE ARE NO GIFS FOR THIS. Andrew Keenan Bolger is of such high caliber, I can’t even begin to describe how much I love him in this role.

I BASICALLY CRIED SO HARD WHEN THE BULLS CLOSE IN ON THE NEWSIES. AND WHEN JACK SEES THEY HAVE CRUTCHIE. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE SICK.

Oh, yeah, also, little itty bitty detail here i was completely unaware of BROADWAY VERSION JACK KELLY IS A FLIPPIN ARTIST?????!!!! LIKE WHAT????!!!! OH.MY.GOSH. I LOVE THIS ANGLE SO MUCH. KAJLLGDFHLJFGHIERUNZUIZLGRF. HE’S PAINTING SANTA FE GUYS. LSLDGJAGKJHRUIGKNG. During “I Never Planned On You” he draws Katherine and the LED screen that assisted the set showed him sketching her as they talked and sang AND IDK IF THAT HAPPENS USUALLY IN THE STAGE PRODUCTION BUT I AND MY FRIEND AND PROBABLY EVERYONE ELSE WAS LIKE “HOLY CRAP AWWWW OHMYGOSH HOW PRECIOUS HOW PURE I’M NOT CRYING AT ALL NO” SO YEAH THAT IS A THING THAT HAPPENED.

Little Les is amazing. Like, in the old movie, he wasn’t so much a character as a plot device. He was literally the little boy with the cute face who could sell the papes. In this, Les is the one who strikes up the deal with Jack, and Les is the one who shouts a message for Pulitzer as the guard closes the door in their faces. He is so precocious and adorable and perfect, and so much more a character in his own right, I am so pleased.

DID I MENTION BEN FANKHAUSER AS DAVEY???

HIS SINGING. HIS ACTING. HIS CHARACTER AND INTERACTIONS WITH JACK AND LES. The confrontation between him and Jack later on when Davey is trying to get Jack to rejoin the Strike, and he says “it’s not like anyone died” and Jack whirls on him in rage, because of what happened to Crutchie, who could very well die at that point. I COULDN’T HANDLE. And when Davey reminds him what they’re fighting for, and why they shouldn’t stop. PERFECT BOYS, PERFECT.

AND I ALMOST FORGOT RACETRACK LAJKDHF. Race is my favorite Newsie from the old movie, and I was not disappointed by him here. Benjamin Cook is an adorable angel and my favorite bit of him probably has to be when he is staring wide-eyed at Governor Roosevelt at the end, so happy and in awe. Unfortunately I can’t find any gifs of him either arg.

AND SPOT, HOW COULD I MISS SPOT CONLON Tommy Bracco’s performance left nothing to be desired, he was as spot-on as his character’s name. WE ARE BROOKLYN NEWSIES

Oh.

Oh, and then there was This:

I HATE/LOVE THIS PART OF THE STORY SO MUCH. When Pulitzer forces Jack’s hand, makes him face the Newsies and turn on them, in order to save them and save Crutchie and Davey and Les, but Pulitzer also gives him money to go to Santa Fe and that is all the Newsies ever see. LKDJFLHDHFAJDHFLA MY HEART HURTS

I love Jack Kelly more than Raoul or the Phantom, or Dimitri, or Valjean or Marius or Enjolras, or even arguably Fiyero. I feel every single beat of “Santa Fe” as it blooms and changes from dream to dust to dream.

I adore how the stage version plays up the affect the Newsies strike had on child laborers everywhere, how Jack proclaims it isn’t only Newsies’ rights they’re striking for.

The singing was absolutely flawless. Flawless I tell you.

IDK GUYS I JUST DON’T HAVE ANY COMPLAINTS OK

This is on par with the night I saw Wicked on tour. I will be buying the DVD. I will watch it at least once a year. I guess, if I wasn’t before, I’m a Fansie now.

So, yeah, to close: I don’t think I will ever find another thing on this earth that impacts every bit of my soul as much as musical theater does. That is a part of me I will never outgrow, and never give up. Doesn’t matter if I ever make it to see a show on Broadway, or if I ever get on behind the scenes at a theater company. This is me.

This is an experience I want to relive every day for as many days as I have. I laughed, I cried, I came home to my roomies in such a state of embarrassed, blissful exhilaration you’d think I just came home from my first date with the love of my life - which is a completely accurate comparison.

I cried so much, I laughed so hard. #NewsiesForever and all that. There is so much more I could say, so much I feel like I am completely leaving out. But truthfully, when it comes right down to it, there are no words in the human language to describe this experience and how thrilled I am that I was able to go, that I live in the same universe as this caliber of artistry and storytelling. This phenomenon is beyond anything I can say, so I’ll stop trying. ;)

I hope that answers anyone’s questions to whether or not I enjoyed Newsies Live.

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