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slavicviking · 1 year ago

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In the mood for some delicious miscommunicatio trope for steddie so here we are >:) part 1 of ??

wc: 1281

tags: friends with benefits, requitted unrequitted love, idiot4idiot

Love sucks.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You’re supposed to have my back, Robin,” Steve sighs and slumps against the counter.

“I do have your back,” she replies with a light pat on the shoulder. “I am, though, going to ask you to stop moping over the counter, dingus. I just wiped it down a moment ago.”

“That’s so rude. Maybe crying over this counter is exactly what I need right now, you know?”

“Don’t. The stench of boy-desperation is going to seep in.”

Steve snorts. At least with Robin here the Monday morning shift is not so overwhelmingly, mind-numbingly boring. There’s only so many times Steve can reorganize the backroom, trying not to think about, well, The Situation.

Robin hands him a small packet of skittles from a bowl as peace-offering. If they’re lucky Keith will never notice. “Okay, but, really – I think you should consider it.”

“It’s not that easy, Rob,” he sighs, wincing when the customer bell sounds from the doors, even more when he sees who it is.

“Howdy,” Eddie greets them before diving straight into the horror section of the store. Steve sees Robin follow him with her eyes, her lips pulled down at the corners. He knows that look and though he appreciates her feeling protective over him, Steve is past his need or desire for any sort of escalating drama, especially within a group as tightly-knit as the Party. His hand lands in hers under the counter and squeezes.

Eddie comes back around ten minutes later, a video tape in hand. The plain T-shirt and the usual ripped jeans don’t look like much but Steve still finds it too magnetic to look away.

“The Shining?” Steve quirks an eyebrow. “A bit too mainstream for you, isn’t it?”

“It’s a classic, Stevie,” Eddie grins before leaning closer, twirling a lock of hair between his fingers, and if Steve didn’t know any better he’d say Eddie looked nervous. Which - ridiculous. Nothing to be nervous about, not in Eddie’s case anyway. “Actually, I was wondering. I mean, it is a classic, right? Already mentioned that, um. But we could watch it together. If you’d like. No pressure, or anything.”

Before Steve can reply, the bell over the doors rings again and in a flurry of motions a chipper blonde runs up to the counter of Family Video, a dimpled smile plastered over her face. Jenna, if Steve recalls correctly – Robin’s year.

“Hi, Steve!” she greets loudly, hair pulled up in a high ponytail bouncing up and down. “I didn’t know you worked here. I mean, I did, I’ve been here before. Breakfast Club, remember? Anyway, after the earthquake I kind of thought you’d jump the ship. I mean, I would, but parents, you know?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve blinks. “Guess I stayed.”

“Glad you did,” Jenna giggles, slim fingers just barely grazing over Steve’s arm. Enough to cause goosebumps. “Anyway, I’m here to return Fast Times for my brother. He was supposed to but he’s apparently too busy with basketball.”

Steve knows how this conversation should go, would have gone a few months ago, probably. He would ask about her brother and basketball, throw in a quip or two, maybe flex his arms, wink. It would work perfectly, too. And Jenna – she’s sweet, all dimples and cute skirts, colorful ribbons in her hair. She’s everything he should want right now – something easy and stable and realistic. But he can’t help but let his eyes drift to Eddie, how quiet he has gotten all of a sudden, maybe stressed about Jenna and the jock crowd she usually falls into; maybe because she feels eerily similar to how Chrissy used to be. Who knows.

In the end Steve just smiles politely and tells Jenna the fee to pay in a manner so robotic King Steve would cower in embarrassment at the mere sight. She looks miffed but it doesn’t deter her completely because she slips him a piece of paper with a poignant look shot Robin’s way. As if Robin was her greatest competition. Turn around, a little bit to the left, and there you’ll have it – the reason Steve Harrington is off the market.

Not that Eddie knows. Or will ever know.

The boundaries he set were pretty clear, Steve gets it.

“Did you see The Look?” Robin snickers next to him once Jenna’s gone and he can’t help but snort because, sure, Steve did have a crush on Robin very briefly what feels like ages ago, but by now the idea of them ever being considered a romantic couple is just laughable. Eddie, though, stays silent, eyebrows dropped low and eyes glued to the door.

Steve decides to bite the bullet.

“I’m game, you know.” Eddie shots him a perplexed look and he feels a hot wave of embarrassment wash over him swiftly. It’s clear Eddie hasn’t given the invitation much thought, maybe didn’t even really mean it in the first place but wanted to be polite. “You know, for, uh, The Shining.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, that,” Eddie shrugs, shoulders rising almost to his ears. “You can come. If you want.”

“Cool.”

Eddie doesn’t linger after that, leaving Family Video with much less vigor than when he entered. Maybe that’s Steve’s effect on people, he muses as he dumps the slip with Jenna’s number into the bin in the backroom. The Steve Experience is an intense one, as he has been notified of before.

“So. What the hell was that?” Robin pokes him in the arm, nails surprisingly sharp and painful.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Steve sighs. “He hates me. Fuck.”

“He doesn’t, dingus, I promise you,” Robin slings her arm across his chest and leans against his back. Steve loves her so much. “But he’s being super weird. I mean, my guess would be that he got jealous, honestly-“

“You know it isn’t like that. It’s just sex, he said so himself.”

And, okay, so. The Situation.

The weeks following Vecna’s attempt at world-domination royally sucked ass. The NDAs, the nightmares and all-encompassing fear – that Steve knows, that he can deal with on most days. Physical therapy was a nicely added new feature, it at least spiced things up a little. It’s also how Steve and Eddie ended up spending a lot of time together. Becoming friends with Eddie was surprisingly easy, falling for him – a slippery slope.

It's Eddie that suggested their little arrangement and it’s Eddie that has been vocal since the beginning that it’s nothing more than hooking up – blowing off steam, as he once called it. Happened only a handful times, too, and only after one or the other couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. So, really, it’s on Steve to get so attached to an idea that exists only in his own head.

Before they close up, Robin taps him on the shoulder. “You deserve better, Steve, okay? Someone who cares. Just – think about it.”

A slip of paper with a number finds its way into his pocket, second one today but first for a boy; some guy that Robin met via a mutual friend – Dorothy, or whatever. It weighs on his mind the whole drive to the trailer park but the moment Eddie opens the door, it really doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

For once, Steve wants to be in control. And with Eddie looking at his mouth the way he is, Steve feels wanted, desired, however illusory that really is. The kiss grows heated once they enter the trailer but the second he lays Eddie on the couch, a pair of hands pushes him away gently.

“We shouldn’t,” Eddie pants. “We- I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

Fuck.

part 2??

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #st #my writing #i live off drama and drama alone

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thewatercolours · 11 months ago

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King's Quest Ficlet: "Candlelit Chat"

Ken found the new queen beneath the table in the great hall.

It took him a good while before he spotted her. Naturally, it was the tabletop that struck him first, littered with so much brik-a-brak it looked like a museum display case. Which wouldn’t have been terrible – Ken had once considered museum work before he took up the old armour and polish – but in this case it looked more like a display case after a hurricane and earthquake combination.

He sniffed disapprovingly. A dozen mismatched candles assaulted his nose with scents more confused than the Hobblepots’ shop. With so many, you wouldn’t have believed there was any need for twisting candelabras as well, but they had their place too, so many they felt more like watchfires than ambient lighting. Was this the reason while all the wall sconces had been doused dark? The tallest and twistiest dripped wax onto a stack of well-thumbed books. Inkwells of different colours were scattered here and there. One seemed to have upset, judging by the pile of napkins, still wet with green. And as for papers – well, they were reason enough for Valanice to have chosen the grand table rather than her own desk. Loose, stacked, overlapping. Blank, blank except for a line or two, one full page scratched out. Doodles galore, and one paper with circles and spirals whirled all over it. Several with bullet lists. And many, many crumpled and spilling onto the plush red carpet.

Looking down at them was what made the guard notice the purple slippers sticking out from under the table.

Ken cleared his throat. “Madam?” Fully aware that she could probably see little more than his toes, he gave a sharp salute stamp with an ankle turn. Plausibly, it was the most visible way to show respect. More accurately, it was a chance to stamp at the queen for turning the throne room into the aftermath of a toddlers’ craft day.

“Oh!” came an embarrassed voice, followed by an overwrought giggle. The slippers slid out of view beneath the tablecloth. “Um, don’t mind me, guard. Just doing a project. Chasing inspiration, as you do. Sometimes it takes you strange places.”

“Everything shipshape down there?” Ken asked stiffly.

“Oh, more or less,” said the queen, a mite too cheerily.

“Can I be of assistance?”

“Oh, no, no! I’m fine! Peachy!”

He waited, but she said nothing more. “Very good, madam,” he said, and clamped his lip firmly shut to avoid adding a comment about the mess. He turned on his heel. Then he heard a hiccup and a loud, messy sniff.

Was Valanice crying? Ken crouched (always a tricky business in steel greaves) and lifted the edge of the tablecloth to peer beneath.

The queen sat wrapped in a yellow dressing gown, with her red hair tumbling over her hugged knees. She met his gaze with a grin and rolled her eyes. “Welcome to my cave.”

“Are well? Your eyes are rather red.”

She shrugged. “It’s only that I’ve been up late every night.”

“You are quite certain you’ve not been crying?”

Valanice hid her hands in her sleeves and began drumming her fingers nervously against each other through the fabric. “Actually I stopped crying at least half an hour ago. It’s just… not my coziest night since I arrived in Daventry.”

“Should I fetch the king?”

“No. No,” she said hurriedly. “He’s up to his ears in work tonight. And I’ve already been whining to him and he’s been lovely about it. And I don’t want to let him in for another round of it.”

Privately Ken doubted Graham prefer his bride hiding under furniture and weeping to simply talking it out again, but Valanice didn’t stop to let him interject.

“It’s not even anything big. It’s just. I’m sorry – do you want a seat? Plenty of chairs to choose from.” She wiped her misty eyes with her sleeve.

Ken shook his head. “I’d prefer to stand, if it’s all the same.”

“I might have known. Suit yourself.”

He wound the end of the cloth round a chair spindle, so he could see her without holding it up, and stood a little farther back so they were better in each other’s line of sight. Inside his helmet, Ken chewed his moustache. Though he didn’t think of himself as heartless, he sincerely hoped the tears would not return. What was the protocol on something like this? Probably he’d just get Graham whether she wanted him or not.

He had never quite been able to make heads or tails of how he ought to interact with this new addition to the royal household. It wasn’t because she was a woman, he felt certain. He got along like a house on fire with Roberta and the other female guards, as well as the townswomen. Nor were her manners alien. If anything, she sometimes seemed like a redheaded clone of Pockets, with her wild longing for adventure, her starry-eyed bouts of enthusiasm, and her awkward genuineness.

Perhaps it had more to do with how Queen Maylie’s reign alongside King Edward still felt so vividly recent to Ken. Never mind the twenty years since her death, give or take. He’d always had an amber memory. It had taken him years to default to thinking of Graham as king. He suspected it might take even longer to convince his reflexes that this dewy girl was really queen, however he might know it intellectually. And until those reflexes learned their way, he suspected chats with her were going to be a little cumbersome.

“The worst of it is that I know I’m being silly,” she murmured, “and know exactly how I ought to be handling it – but doesn’t quite translate. I’m not even sad, properly speaking. I just had a million things to get done on a short time frame and… Well, it’s just one of those days when I’ve missed a lot of sleep, and my mind mistakes it for sadness. Then it tries to figure out why I might be sad.”

Ken nodded. “And let me guess. It tries everything even remotely sad in your life on for size, even things that aren’t a problem right now, and suddenly – “

“Just so. Suddenly it’s all about all of them.” Valnice interrupted with a wan smile. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “I have had similar conversations with the king on occasion.”

That got a laugh from her. “Of course you have. Well, watch out, I may be about to spill everything.”

Remembering those discussions with Graham put Ken in mind (thank the shining stars!) of something he might say to suit the situation. “Since exploring all of them is only making it worse right now, what’s bothering you most right now?”

For the first time, she seemed hesitant. For all her assertions that she was being silly, she had seemed eager to talk until now. She took a deep breath. “Um. I’m frustrated because I don’t seem to be able to… um… be very creative right now.”

Again, a good thing he was wearing his helmet. None of this was coming naturally to Ken, and now this. He had expected something like the silly things that fretted her husband: overanalyzing an interaction, self doubt over ability to rule, nightmares. If lack of creativity was the worst of her problems, he could only say she’d had it very easy indeed. But he couldn’t say that, of course.

“I know what you must be thinking.” She nearly blushed to match the carpet. “She could get through being kidnapped and imprisoned by a witch, and she’s crying about this? And I know that intellectually. But right now my mind has decided that the reason I’m off-kilter is because I haven’t written to my mother in months. It’s not so much that I feel guilty as that I keep trying, and I can’t seem to put my mind to it. I sat at that table for literal hours. Everyone always tells me I write incredible letters. I don’t just tell my news. I age the paper, and make sketches in invisible ink, and have all these different characters who are responsible for telling different parts of the letter. And I just can’t do it right now. I’m so exhausted. And I’ve been so tired for months, it sometimes feels like. I mean it’s been wonderful! I haven’t been unhappy! In fact I don’t think I’ve been unhappy till just now. I’m so, so happy with Graham, and I love Daventry, and being married, and all the newness, and I’m being so, so stupid.”

Valanice’s words poured out faster and faster. She wasn’t looking at him, but alternately looking at her own lacing and interlacing fingers and some space far off in the distance. “And, and it’s not just the letters. I used to be a pretty good painter. I know you saw the avocado one. Don’t judge me on that one. I’ve actually done some that people really loved. And sometimes I compose for the lute, and all this has always been a huge part of who I am.” Her volume rose, and now the tears were certainly back. “And when I’m feeling down, what they always tell me is, ‘But you’re so creative!’ And I haven’t been in ages, and I feel like a fake. And I thought, ‘Don’t be down on yourself – you’ve just been busy with the wedding and settling in and everything! Everything that’s filling your life right now is so good, and you should be grateful, and soon you’ll have time again, and the creativity will come back!’ And probably it will, but every time I make time for it, it won’t come, and I just end up wasting time on things I don’t even really enjoy! I just love making beautiful things. I enjoy it. And I feel like I’ve lost that part of myself by not prioritizing it, and – I’ve been talking a long time and getting very loud, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Ken nodded, and nodded again. What was he to say after all that? Strangely, there was something that felt relatable in all of it, though he felt sure that had not got a creative bone in his body. Where was the relatability? He wasn’t sure, and heaven knew, he wouldn’t be able to place it before the silence grew too long. And that might be disastrous in her current state. So he went with the next best option. “And you told Graham about all this?”

She nodded. “He understood. And I felt better after we talked.” She was clearly trying hard to get her calm, even tone back. “Which is why this feels so ridiculous. I’ve already talked it out. But I’m still stringing it out. Maybe I just want to be miserable deep down, and I pull everyone else into it.”

Suddenly, he knew what to do. Ken found himself leaving his self-appointed post, and pulling a chair from the side of the table, close to the mouth of the “cave.” He leant over and placed a hand on her shoulder, as gently as he could in gauntlets. “I don’t pretend to know what to say, but Your Majesty, but I want you to know it doesn’t bother me that you’re telling me about it.”

Valanice met his gaze surprisingly well, considering she presumably couldn’t see his eyes. “You don’t seem very comfortable, and I don’t blame you.”

“I’m not comfortable. Because I want to say the right thing, and I don’t know what it is. But I am your sworn guard, madam. I find purpose in being there for Daventry’s royalty whenever they need me. In all honesty, Guard Number Two likely would know better how to be here for you in this particular situation, but I am here, and he is not. And -” (Did he really just say that? He gritted his teeth. Good stars above, but he was bungling this.)

She smirked. “It’s all right. I don’t quite know how to dig myself out of everything I just told you, and you don’t have to dig yourself out of that. We’re really not very good at this, either of us.”

“I should say not.” (Zards, zards, he was bungling this!)

They sat for some time in silence. A few of the tea lights doused themselves in hot wax. At last Valanice crawled out. She regarded the tabletop gravely. “Can we – can I take care of this in the morning?”

Ordinarily he would say no, but how could he under the circumstances? “Of course, madam.” He bowed.

“Thank you.” Before he could stand up straight from the bow, she closed the distance between them, and planted a kiss on the crown of his helmet. “Thank you, guard. I can’t believe how much that helped.”

What? Helped? That?

“I’m going to find Graham now. I am feeling a lot better now. Good night.” Valanice hurried from the room, pulling her dressing gown close about her.

He wasn’t sure Valanice even knew for certain which guard she had been talking to. And he really didn’t believe he had said the right things at all. But somehow, it had helped anyhow?

Ken began blowing out the candles.

#Thanks for encouraging me just to write something #friends.#:-D #king graham #king's quest #fanfic #my writing

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gwenbrightly · 9 months ago

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(Re)Building the Future Chapter 6

By all accounts, the path that Freddy, Gregory, and Vanessa take through the Pizzaplex doesn’t make any sense. In some places, they are able to find and follow the same route as Cassie. In others? Well, with the way she seems to have been able to travel through solid objects, it’s almost like trying to follow a ghost. Gregory is pretty sure they’ve discovered several places he didn’t even know existed before today, but it’s hard to tell, considering how different everything looks now. Even the places he knows he’s been to before lack familiarity in their state of ruin.

“One of the entrances to Roxy Raceway should be just up ahead,” Vanessa announces as they reach the end of yet another hallway filled with junk. Gregory tenses slightly. Hopefully they don’t run into the animatronic wolf. He’s pretty sure she still hates him for low key ruining her life. The kind of hatred that fuels rage strong enough to motivate you to chase someone through a flaming inferno. Literally.

She still seemed pretty upset about that when Cassie ran into her earlier from what Gregory could see on the security footage.

“Um… Maybe you should go first, Vanessa,” Gregory suggests as they reach the end of the hallway. “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” Freddy asks, confused. Gregory hasn’t displayed any self preservation instincts today up til now. It’s a little unnerving to be honest.

“In case, you know, Roxy’s right on the other side of the door? I don’t think she’ll want to see either of us,” Gregory points out. He’s probably right. Roxy had seemed a bit unhinged the last time Freddy saw her.

“Fine,” Vanessa says, “but you get to be the human shield next time.” She’s not completely sure Roxy hates her any less than she hates the others, but she does owe Gregory for all those times she tried to kill him, so she’ll do as he asks (this time).

Gregory only recognizes the storage room on the other side of the door when he sees what’s left of Princess Quest II. As with most other things in this place, it has definitely seen better days. It’s almost a shame, really. That game had some pretty amazing gameplay (for being 110% certifiably haunted). He rather enjoyed going swishy-stabby with glowing swords, even if he still doesn’t totally understand the game’s connection to Vanessa.

No sign of Roxy so far, he notices with relief. But the canyonesk decor on some of the walls tell him she could be close. They're definitely not far from the raceway now. Too bad he doesn’t have a real life glowing sword to defend himself with. That would make him feel a whole lot better about all of this. So much better. He’d look so cool with a sword…

“Now we just have to cut through Glamrock Salon and then head towards the sinkhole,” Vanessa announces, interrupting his sword related fantasies. “Hopefully the floor isn’t too damaged and we can actually get over there without having to backtrack.”

“The Pizzaplex has a salon?” Gregory is pretty sure he would remember seeing a place like that. Nothing comes to mind. Cassie could probably fill him in on it if she were here. She loves experimenting with different looks when she gets bored.

“Gregory… We passed through the Salon at least once while we were searching for a way to defeat Roxy,” Freddy says, “How do you not remember this?”

Gregory shrugs. “I have no idea. Maybe I was too distracted by how cool Princess Quest II was to notice anything else. I mean, it had an awesome glowing sword and everything!”

Freddy and Vanessa share a look that makes him feel like he’s being judged heavily (because he is).

“Okay. Well. Might as well keep moving,” Vanessa says eventually. She’s not quite sure how to respond to Gregory’s cluelessness.

It’s eerily quiet inside the salon itself. Which is weird, considering how messy it is. Though the rubble in the corner and the fallen signs are probably from the ‘earthquake’ that damaged the Pizzaplex months ago, the trashed furniture and mirrors are most likely victims of Roxy’s rage. And yet… the animatronic wolf doesn’t seem to be here, either. Gregory can’t help but wonder where she is. If they’ll actually see her. If she’ll even be the threat he’s made her out to be. He’s surprised his mere presence hasn’t summoned her to take revenge upon his sorry soul. Not that he wants that or is particularly sorry. Because he’s really not.

Roxy Raceway is an even bigger mess than the salon. Rubble, half filled shipping containers, and gaping holes create a maze of obstacles nearly impossible to navigate.

“How the heck did Cassie make it through here without getting trapped somewhere?” Gregory asks, weaving his way around a set of construction barriers. All of them are struggling and they don’t have the added threat of MXES and Roxy (who is somehow still totally absent) chasing after them.

“I dunno. But it did seem like I got places faster when I was wearing my V.A.N.N.I mask,” Vanessa remembers, frowning thoughtfully.

“Weird,” Gregory replies, saying what they’re all thinking. There are some things from the night of The Incident (and before for that matter!) that none of them really have explanations for. Things that don’t quite add up about the Pizzaplex and all that happened there. Memories that feel just out of reach. It’s something they usually avoid talking about.

“This whole day has been weird,” Freddy points out, “and I doubt that will change anytime soon. Look.”

They’ve managed to (finally) find a clear path leading to the final door before the sinkhole. The sight gives Gregory chills. He hasn’t forgotten what he and Freddy faced the last time they went down there. They were lucky to make it out alive! And now there’s another, possibly even bigger threat lurking below their feet.

“It’s not too late to turn back,” Vanessa says, gripping the door’s rusty old handle. None of them have fond memories of what lies beyond this door.

“We have to do this,” Gregory replies before he can talk himself out of it, “For Cassie.”

“For Cassie!” Freddy agrees (despite never having met Gregory’s friend). And so they begin their descent down, down into the abyss.

///////

“I gotta say, those sunglasses are a great look for you!” Helpy tells Roxy, trying to distract her from the one sided staring contest she is currently having with a still unconscious Cassie.

“Yeah,” Eclipse agrees, “I know that sunglasses are usually Monty’s thing, but maybe you can add them to your act once the Pizzaplex reopens!”

“Oh. Uh. Maybe?” Roxy is glad that the oversized sunglasses cover enough of her face that Eclipse can’t see her expression. She’s pretty sure the Pizzaplex won’t be reopening anytime soon. Or ever, for that matter. She’s also pretty sure she looks ridiculous, but hey, at least when Cassie finally wakes up again, she’ll have something to laugh about. If she wakes up. It feels like it’s been forever since the little girl woke up, screamed at her, and then passed out again. Roxy edges closer to her, trying to detect any changes.

“I don’t think checking on her every five minutes is going to make her wake up any faster,” Eclipse notes. Roxy rolls her eyes. What does he know? It might help. It definitely helps Roxy feel like she has some control over the situation. She’s about to argue this point when Cassie begins to mumble hoarsely.

“The eyes… the eyes! Why are there so many eyes?”

“It’s okay, Cassie. You don’t have to look at the eyes anymore,” Roxy tells her, assuming Cassie is talking about her freshly stolen pair of eyes.

“Nonono… they’re everywhere,” Cassie replies, gazing about wildly.

Well, if she’s not talking about It’s eyes, than Roxy hasn’t a clue what’s got her so freaked out this time.

“What’s wrong with her? There’s not even that many eyes,” Roxy says, turning to Eclipse in confusion.

“I don’t think she’s fully awake yet,” the daycare attendant tells her.

Oh. That does make more sense than any alternatives Roxy can come up with. But still. Creepy.

“They’re watching… always watching…” Cassie whispers, somehow clutching Roxy’s arm. Roxy is careful not to move for fear of hurting her. The little girl whimpers and mumbles something about nowhere being safe.

“That does it. As soon as this is over, we’re dumping whatever is left of your stash in the toilet,” Roxy announces, growing increasingly concerned about Cassie’s wellbeing.

“Hey Freddy… where’d your head go, anyway? You’re kinda freaking me out,” Cassie asks before Eclipse can protest.

“Aww but this is just getting good,” Helpy complains as Cassie continues to ramble about Freddy’s appearance. “Next time you guys drug someone, we should make sure we have a camera ready!” Both Roxy and Eclipse glare at him, but he can’t quite bring himself to care.

“Cassie, can you hear me?” Roxy asks, gently nudging Cassie. Cassie groans.

“No, I couldn’t possibly eat another slice of cake, Mom.”

Roxy considers shaking her harder, but decides that probably won’t do much of anything.

“Okay. We’ll save the rest of the cake for later,” she tells her, not sure what else to say.

“Mom… Mommy… Momther?” Cassie says.

“Yes?” Roxy says awkwardly (she is SO not ready to be a parent). How is one supposed to interact with a child who is clearly high on… something? Cassie’s real parents will be worried sick when they realize she’s missing (if they haven’t already).

“I don’t feel so good…” Cassie complains, finally letting go of Roxy to clutch her stomach. Thinking quickly, Eclipse just barely manages to grab an old cleaning bucket and shove it at her in time for her to start puking.

#myfics #fnaf sb ruin #fnaf fanfiction #roxanne wolf #five nights at freddy's #fivenightsatfreddyssecuritybreach #fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction #five nights at Freddy’s fanfiction #Cassie fnaf #eclipse fnaf #three star trio #fnaf helpy #nobody is holding the brain cell atm #I promise I didn’t mean for the Moondrop candies #to sound so sketchy #Helpy is a menace #Gregory just wants a sword

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darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght · 3 months ago

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Chapter 32- Part 11

Now with that, we send in Wulfrum to stall.

First, the Revive while Sturdy does its thing-

And that was a crit on Earthquake too! I think Solaris wasted his crit luck on that. Now, as Wulfrum goes down, we bring Coast back to full HP…

Now, Garchomp is still less than half HP. So since Counter did more than half last time, this Counter should be what finishes it.

I just need to click Counter one more time…trust in the numbers and the calculations…and pray to whichever Pokémon god cares to listen that Garchomp doesn't crit again. We've still got Riptide just in case, but just…just don't crit this time…!

SHE LIVED! IT'S GONNA WORK, COUNTER'S GONNA-

SHE DID IT!! THE CUCUMBER THAT COULD!! And with two Pokémon to spare, LET'S GO!!

I…still don't know if I was intended to win that fight, and I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't caught a Pyukumuku with Counter, but that's not the timeline we're on right now, we're on the timeline where I do have Coast and I did beat a Lv. 75 Garchomp boss fight, so SUCK ON THAT, SOLARIS! AND GIVE XERA YOUR WALLET, TOO!

Um, excuse me, why is that Garchomp still standing? I'm fairly certain Xera knocked it out, so like? Go back to your Poké Ball, please? Thank you?

A massacre for you, maybe, we knocked out your one Pokémon and Xera still has two.

“Powerless”?? What?? She beat you! You lost! What's going on here!?

Items!? You didn't bother using items when Amaria’s Kingdra froze Garchomp back at Blacksteam, you just returned it to its Ball like it was already fainted!

Heck, you didn't even use any items in this battle! But you wanna talk about them now, after you already lost??

I don't get it, why is Solaris talking like he already beat- wait. Wait, no…no, no, don't tell me it's one of those fights! You know, where the game’s like “you won this boss fight, but lol jk you actually lost ♥”? Like in Mystery Dungeon: Explorers, with the Manectric (or Luxray) fight and the Grovyle fight? You're kidding me, they're pulling that here!? No way!

Oh, hey Kiki, I uh…I was a bit distracted by my despair that I didn't see you come in. How long have you been standing there-?

Honestly, yeah- probably not a good idea to scale a super hot, active volcano with a terminal illness. I dunno, maybe she's got some kinda spiritual zen willpower stuff pushing her onwards right now, I'm not gonna judge.

Kiki wait! Stop! Get away from the Garchomp that's supposed to be fainted right now!!

WE ALREADY STOPPED IT WITH THE POWER OF COUNTER!! What is happening right now!?

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keithisbae1 · 10 months ago

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Modern Sasuke X Shippuden Sakura - Part 4

It wasn’t fair.

Those were the three words plaguing her mind now, how could this be fair?

They had spent years trying to find a way to bring her back to her own world, but Sakura had long given up after two years. No doubt she would either be considered missing or worst case scenario dead. Unless the other Sakura had taken her place, in which case wouldn’t she have gotten used to living there by now?

A big assumption on their part but it made sense right?

Still, the dream of going back home. Of seeing her Naruto, her friends, her Sasuke… they were long gone. She learned to adapt and play the role of the other Sakura… even if Sasuke was still teaching her how to live.

Sasuke.

That was another thing as well, she didn’t have to feel alone.

He knew of her, that she wasn’t her and in a way he had to grieve himself knowing the one he loved (even if Sasuke would strongly deny it) was never coming back.

Knowing she could be herself around him and didn’t have to pretend gave her a sense of relief. Like how she accidentally ended up destroying a forest to prove to him how strong she was.

Her chakra may be non-existent but it seemed her strength was still the same and far different from modern Sakura. To say Sasuke didn’t expect it was well… putting it lightly but the news that covered it referred to it as a ‘mini earthquake.’

They both laughed at their attempt to cover it and Sakura found herself blushing because she had never seen Sasuke so carefree and relaxed before. A rational part of her was telling her not to get too attached, this wasn’t her home. How was she supposed to find a happy ending here?

Yet after so many years Sakura finally gave in and adapted to this life and now arguing in front of her were the two Sasukes. She didn’t know what was happening given she was further away at the time but caught sight of her other self and Sasuke?

Then she heard shouting and screaming, the young woman was in between and tried to stop them.

Sakura immediately let go of her carrier bags running up to approach them. And that was when she caught the words modern Sasuke had uttered.

“You’re in love with her aren’t you?” He was up in his face, almost looking like he wanted to punch him with the way one of his hands had gripped his shirt.

“Don’t tell me you think you can actually make it work.” It was a cruel and mocking tone and it hurt because was he… was he jealous? The other uh her own Sasuke didn’t even say anything, there was nothing in his eyes she could decipher.

“It is true?” The three of them seemed to snap out of it hearing her voice clearly not noticing her presence and that only irked Sakura more.

Admittedly, she didn’t know which Sasuke she aimed that question at, but did it matter?

They were both in love with the other Sakura.

There was something wrong with her, there had to be.

“Sakura-” This time it was ‘her’ Sasuke who spoke first. How long had it been since they met? So Naruto managed to get Sasuke by himself? How? Why?

Okay, perhaps he wasn’t alone…

“Well?”

“We were looking for you-”

“I call bull! We haven’t seen each other in years and the last time we met you tried to kill me. You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth!” The other Sakura nodded to confirm.

“It is, I wanted to back. I couldn’t stand being in the other world. There just… wasn't a lot of time with Sasuke and well um…” She wasn’t really sure how to explain it. In the other world, she (as well as some of their friends) was put on a special mission for her. To bring their Sakura back.

Meanwhile, everyone else focused on Sasuke. Then the attack o the village happened with Pain, Sasuke being considered a criminal and then the war-

To put it simply too much was happening at once.

She didn't have any time to find out how to get back, even when she desperately wanted to.

Sakura didn’t want to hear it however, this only confirmed her thoughts. Her fears, everything… clearly they weren’t meant to be.

Although she will give credit where credit is due, it was weird that the 'other woman' was herself?

So many mixed emotions were welling up inside.

Why was this happening now?

What did she do to deserve this?

Did that mean Sasuke did like her? Even partly or is she hoping for too much?

It didn't matter, right?

Because they were both someone else.

She turned to leave only to be halted by the modern Sasuke who grabbed hold of her arm. He looked like was trying to say something, anything.

More like to come up with an excuse for what he said earlier.

“Let go, I want to be alone.” Her voice was defeated and tired. Her heart was broken, twice. Can’t they give her some space?

She got out of his hold making a dash for it, even with the other Sasuke calling her name.

“Sakura-” But he was also stopped by his other self before being able to reach for her.

“She said she wants to be alone!”

“You don’t know what we’ve been through.”

“Oh? You mean like how you left her on the bench? How considerate of you.” The two men glared at each other, both annoyed at how the other wanted to get in their way.

“Boys! STOP!” Modern Sakura looked at the two frustrated.

“Your both infuriating, you know that.”

#sasusaku #sasuke uchiha x sakura haruno #sasusaku drabble #my fanfiction #modern sasuke X shippuden sakura AU #sasusaku fanfic #ssfanfic #sasusakufanfiction

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marvels-bitch-boy · 1 year ago

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Scarlet Spiders:

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This one is a little shorter but the next ones are longer I promise.

Masterlist , Chapter 3: Cracks in a Web

Chapter 2: The spiders jump

“Hold up, slow down okay… what did you discover?... and how do you know me?”

“Right… shit” he separated from the man and took off his mask “I’m Degan… Degan King, I don’t exist here…”

Bruce looked at him like he just told him the secrets of the universe… Okay technically he kinda did, but only one of the secrets. As Degan began to get more and more anxious at his former mentors' reactions his mind began to come up with a plan of escape in case they decided to do something drastic -maybe a small web to the face and breaking open the door would do it. “Bruce!” he snapped his fingers in front of the man's face “Look I know it sounds crazy -actually it sounds insane, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?”

He gave him the puppy dog eyes that always worked on the man. No matter the disagreement they had as soon as Degan flashed those hazel eyes bruce would fold and give the boy whatever he needed. Sometimes it was a trip in the quinjet that would lead to a lecture from The Captain. Bruce once took him to a concert the night before he was supposed to take the SAT… it was all the way in London, and they made it back in time but MJ had cursed him out for being so irresponsible.

The good doctor took a breath and sat down on the cold metal chair opposite where Degan had been before. “Let’s say I do believe you…” he muttered something that Degan couldn’t hear. “How would you have gotten here? You’d need something mystical or something so powerful it could power 2 nuclear missiles.”

“That's the thing,” he scratched the back of his neck and took his previous seat “I didn’t do this on purpose… or even was conscious when it happened” at least he didn’t think he was. It all happened so fast. He heard a large sigh come from outside the door and perked up at it. “You can come in, I’m not gonna do anything” he stared at the door while bruce looked confused at the boy. Seconds later it opened up and in came Tony with a bag of chips scrunched in his hand.

“Okay, Spider number 2… I don’t really believe you,” he leaned back against the wall and motioned to the suit that Degan was wearing “Looks like my tech, you steal it?”

Degan rolled his eyes at the remark “no, my Bruce and I made it together… You were away with your kids and Pepper for the holidays” he gave the man a smirk after he noticed the smug look on his face disappear “oh. Are you two not together here? Sorry” he forced a frown though his eyes gave away the grin it was covering up.

“No we are… but like you, my kids don’t exist here. -Unless you count the other spider, he’s much nicer to me” This made Degan scoff.

“Well, when did your spider appear? I’ve been doing this since I was 15, I was working with Bruce since I was 12. I was in high school because Bruce talked me out of leaving early, I lived in the tower for 5 years before my Tony kicked me out… so sorry if I don’t seem so warm and cuddly towards you.” He turned to Bruce and avoided eye contact as the man seemed slightly uncomfortable with the atmosphere in the room. “I think it may have been some kind of dimensional shift. -Like an earthquake, I think the vibrations of each different earth had some kind of sync and I must have just fallen through I guess,” he paused for a second after his ramble and looked like he was thinking extra hard “-okay I guess more like a multiversal sink hole.” he smiled at Bruce in a way to brush off the seriousness of the situation he was in.

Bruce bit his bottom lip as he anxiously thought over the last half of the conversation. This boy seemed to know a lot, could handle his own against Tony's sarcasm, and was very determined… as seen by his silent protest to meet with him. “Why did you live in the tower if you didn’t have powers?” Degan's face slightly sunk at the question.

“I was -um… I was in foster care, my parents split up when I was young. I lived with my dad and he ended up passing away. My mom surrendered me to the state and You discovered me on a tour of the tower,” his smile reappeared as he thought back on the memory “-I snuck away to find a lab, I found you instead. We talked for hours before my teacher realized I was missing and found me with you… she was terrified. I didn’t care that the Hulk could have come out, I had fun with you.”

Tony's eyebrows raised “Sorry to hear that, but it doesn’t explain why you lived there.”

Degan rolled his eyes at Tony “I told Bruce about a science fair and explained my idea, he liked it and the day of, I saw him walk into the school gym looking like a fish out of water.” He looked back to Bruce and smiled a very warm and thankful smile “Got first place, and a new home” He knew that this wasn’t his Bruce, but he still felt indebted to him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get home. My girlfriend is probably worried sick” He tried to think of his own MJ, worried and terrified of whatever could have happened to him, standing in the cold outside of the theatre. Instead, all he could see was her and that boy kissing, the boy who frankly was wayyy less attractive than him!

—

Yeah! I mean seriously! Without me on this earth did her standards really fall? And I guess Tony is an ass in every universe. At least Steve doesn’t appear to be all you know… dead, I wonder if he died and came back like my Steve. Wait. Did my Steve come back? I keep forgetting these things.

—

“Look, Degan… I’m sorry to say this but we currently have no way of getting you home. The only theory right now is to wait for another one of those multiversal sinkholes… to well open up again. I’m sorry” The solemn and guilty face that Bruce held while delivering this news to him only made his stomach twist and turn into different knots. At this point, his intestines felt like the rope from a marina. He held his head in his hands and thought about the millions of possibilities that could happen between them, he could go through another one of those sinkholes and end up on another completely different earth, or he could fall through all of existence and completely disappear. Hell, he could fall right back into his own universe but come back thousands of years into the future. He was not going to pull a Captain America.

Standing up he began to walk to the door but Tony got in his way and held a hand to his chest. “Nope, not going anywhere second spider.” Degans face becomes exasperated “I just want some air… please?”

Tony looks towards Bruce with eyebrows raised and only gets a sigh and shrugged shoulders. Moving his arm off the boy decked out in spider gear he takes a step to the side. Degan walks forward and his heart begins to pound. The walls felt suffocating and the doors to the outside was in his sights but they felt miles away. He sped up and eventually, he was sprinting towards the doors. The air hit his face and it felt like he was finally able to tell the difference in the air since he got here. Looking up towards the sky even the stars seemed different. His mind seemed to feel as different as the stars in the sky, as the ground beneath his feet, and the people he once considered his family. He was alone, in a place that was no longer his home. He looked at his hands and his feet that remained in his suit. The suit that seemed to be the only thing he had from his home. The fence. His mind dragged his eyes to it, and within a second he made up his mind. His feet hit the ground over and over again as they propelled his body forward. Taking a leap he seemed to almost be in flight as he soared over the metal and concrete fence that had towered over him.

Hitting the ground running and going in any direction he could. Making his way through trees and bushes, he slipped his mask on as he ducked branches that threatened to take out his head. The night lit up and he was able to see even clearer than before. Running with his navigation off was a challenge but he was able to get the compass up and running, he began to find a way back towards the city.

—

Okay… so, do I still trust Bruce? Absolutely yes. Tony? Hell no, that man has made me trip over myself in battle eight times. I was not going to stay in that room with him. And staying in that building was only making my spidey sense feel more like a stomachache. I do have to say I do reach the city… but I also hate the events that I’m going to tell you next, not because they are embarrassing, or they are more filled with action. It was my first day of school.

#Scarlet Spiders M-B-B #M-B-B #marvel #mcu #x male reader #oc #marvel OC #mcu oc #Scarlet Spider #Degan King #Michelle Jones #Peter Parker

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atomic-thomas · 1 year ago

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(Fake ASMR Commission) An Encounter With A Human Girl [Giant Listener]

------------------------------------------------------------

"Huh... I just remembered about that one Disney movie that got canceled."

"Gigantic"

"Strange how I suddenly just thought of that. Now I wonder... Was a synopsis ever made for that movie? I'd at least like to know the summary for it since I'll never be able to watch it. A quick Google search should do."

*typing sounds*

"Oh wow! There's actually a description for it."

"Set in Spain during the Age of Exploration, Gigantic follows a teenage adventure-seeker named Jack as he discovers a world of giants hidden within the clouds. Along the way, he befriends a young giantess, Inma, who's 11 years old, 60 feet tall & treats him like a living doll. He agrees to help her find her way home, but he doesn't account for her super-sized personality, nor for the presence of the hostile Storm Giants, who stand at 120 feet."

"Aw man! That sounds so cool. I would love to have seen this movie. It was clearly inspired by Jack & the Beanstalk. Damn, it would've been such a spectacle. Does the page mention a reason for it's cancelation?"

"It does. Unspecified creative differences."

"Well that's vague. That could mean anything. And it was two years into development. Such wasted potential. What a shame."

*giant footstep sounds start*

"What the... Why is the ground shaking?"

"Wait a minute. This makes no sense. Earthquakes don't even happen where I live."

"I should probably go outside anyway. On the off chance the roof doesn't hold up, it'd be unwise to stay inside. These tremors are intense. Hopefully I don't have to pay for house repairs."

*door opening sound*

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

*giant footstep sounds stop*

"What... Why... How... I don't understand!"

"Oh God, please don't hurt me!"

...

"Huh? You won't? Really?"

...

"Why would I assume that... Uh..."

...

"Y-yes... It's because you're gigantic."

...

"W-well... You aren't visually scary or anything. You look... Pretty normal actually."

"Wait, what am I saying? What's even happening? Am I dreaming? Giants aren't real."

...

"Oh... Oh dear. I... I'm so sorry. That was probably offensive."

...

"It's... Fine? Wow. You don't get offended easily, do you?"

...

"You expected these reactions from a human. Well... No wonder you're so chill."

...

"Um... Sure... I suppose you can pick me up. But... What for?"

...

"You just want to hold me. Well, I don't see why not."

...

"Of course I'm nervous. I never thought I'd meet a giant. Let alone get offered to be held by one. But... I'm willing to try it. This feels like... A once in a lifetime experience that I shouldn't miss out on."

...

"Wow. That's a pretty big hand you got there. I guess I'll just... Climb onto your palm."

"*grunt* There we go. Hope you didn't mind me using your fingernail as leverage."

...

"Woah! Oh jeez. The ground is falling away fast. What is my life right now?!"

...

"Uh... Hey there. Pretty cool seeing you at eye level."

"Oh God, that's such a long way down."

...

"I'm sure you won't drop me. It's just... Your hand doesn't have guardrails."

...

"You'd catch me if I fell. Heh... You're really nice, you know that?"

"So... Where are you from?"

...

"You... Can't say. Why not?"

...

"Ohhh... So... Humans & giants were never meant to meet each other. Wait. If that's the case then why are you here?"

...

"You got curious. So like... Will you get into trouble if your fellow giants find out you were here?"

...

"I see. Well, it's a good thing I live in a rural area. Not too many prying eyes around here. I think I'm the only human whose seen you so far."

...

"You're not worried about humans seeing you. Why though? That sounds like it would be important."

...

"Oh yeah. That makes sense. It's unlikely anyone would believe someone who claims that they saw a giant. Guess I can't really make that claim either. At least not without sounding like a crazy person."

"But still. Why is it so important for your kind to remain hidden? I don't really see the big deal."

...

"Too complicated. Well... I suppose there's a certain risk involved with attempting to co-exist. And there'd also be a massive resource issue."

"Hmmm... I see what you mean. We're both in a situation that isn't broken in the first place so... Why fix it?"

...

"Oh... You have to go now. Aww... Already? It feels too soon."

...

"Well, if it's really that important then I suppose I can't stop you. But... Will I see you again? I don't want to part ways forever. You're so cool! And you've been so nice to me. A true BFG. You know. Big Friendly Giant."

...

"You'll visit in secret. Awesome! Just be careful, alright? Wouldn't want your own kind to find out about this."

...

"Well... I guess you should put me down now. Slowly this time, okay? Nearly got motion sick when you picked me up a few minutes ago."

...

"*grunt* There we go. Back on solid ground."

...

"Hey, be safe out there, you hear? I don't know where you live, but I wish you safe travels."

...

"Until we meet again, my giant friend."

------------------------------------------------------------

THE END

#Fake ASMR

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patchun · 2 years ago

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Cynthia.

If I thought prepping for the others was tough,.

Okay, here's the team.

Eirin can beat any lead from Cynthia, but Clefable and Milotic in particular will allow Sukuna to come in and set up Spikes, so I kinda hope they're the leads. From there, it's almost too much to try to explain! Frankly I don't know if this is going to work out!

Sekibanki can live one unboosted Stone Edge from Garchomp and kill with Moonblast in return, she's immune to HJK from Lucario and can outspeed and kill it, she's immune to Focus Blast and Dragon Pulse from Ampharos, and if needed, she can kill Spiritomb as well.

Sukuna resists Lucario's STABs, though honestly I don't know how much that's going to help against Adaptability Lucario, especially because some of them are physical and some are special. She should be able to 1v1 Milotic with Gunk Shot, and may also bait in Garchomp to using Earthquake, potentially even allowing for pivots between Hina and herself.

Remilia is immune to T-Bolt from Ampharos, is faster than Lucario and Lopunny, and can hit really hard with STAB Earthquakes.

Yuuma... well, I really tried figuring out SOMETHING for Yuuma to do in this fight, but I genuinely couldn't find anything. I don't think she'll ever have a chance to come in. If she had Ice Shard, she'd definitely have a role here, but unfortunately there's no way of giving her Ice Shard again without going back to the move tutor, which I obviously can't do. So she has Brick Break in case she miraculously finds a situation where screens are up and she can come in without dying instantly.

And Hina. Hina CAN deal with physical Lucario, Lopunny, and Garchomp - but the last thing I want is to rely on her too heavily and risk her to a crit.

This battle will be no joke. If we pull it off, we will have legitimately beaten the Elite 4 of Renegade Platinum with THIS TEAM on the FIRST TRY.

OKAY FOLLOWING PLATINUM THIS IS AN INSANELY GOOD ADDITION

OKAY!!!! CLEFABLE! THIS IS THE TEAM WE ARE DEALING WITH! NO LUCARIO!

LOL TRACKING TURNS

Light Screen ends as Clefable dies, now Lopunny comes out.

Going Sukuna on the Fake Out or HJK so that I can get the Intimidate so I can go Hina next turn... or

Change of plans, because I know Yuuma won't be doing anything else against this Cynthia team, I go Yuuma who is holding a Focus Sash. Lopunny's Life Orb has brought her into range of Technician Aerial Ace, which I will now go for.

Slight problem. Like an idiot, I replaced Aerial Ace with something else, despite having this plan for Lopunny in my head.

Lopunny, naturally, went for the Ice Punch to finish off Sneasel. So yeah, um. Remilia survived. It's okay. We're okay. We're okay. right?

Aerial Ace finishes Lopunny, which brings out Milotic. I wanted to go into Sukuna and handle this with Gunk Shot, but I don't think that's feasible at her current HP range.

So into Eirin we go. This should be fun.

We stall the Milotic out of Hydro Pumps then go Sekibanki on the Rest. I actually think this is a bad idea, because I think Sleep Talk can pull Hydro Pump even if it's out of PP, so I'll be going back into Eirin. I just don't want Garchomp coming in on Eirin and setting up a Swords Dance, even Hina would have trouble with that.

As I feared, Sleep Talk allows Milotic to roll Hydro. I'm gonna try to run Milotic out of Ice Beams with Chansey, then set up in its face with Sekibanki. Okay, Milotic is now out of Ice Beams and Hydro Pumps, and is attempting to Rest, but it can't, as its at full health! Time to set up to +6 with Sekibanki!

"Who are you?"

"I'm you, but slightly worse, but also at + 6 Special Attack and Special Defense."

Houston we have been paralyzed

Roserade used Shadow Ball. But was it really super effective? We still live a non-crit Stone Edge from Chomp, but risking Para is scary. What if it SD's?

Ahh, we got paralyzed anyways, so it's time to switch to Eirin.

Okay, its choice-locked into Shadow Ball, so this has actually worked out really nicely. I can stall Roserade out of all Shadow Ball PP, force it to Struggle, and use that to bring in Hina for free. Hina will be the one. To defeat Garchomp.

IT'S TIME.

CROSS EVO ARC - ELITE 4 SAGA

Okay sadly most of the Aaron fight was lost because Tumblr deleted my post as I was typing it. I had pictures documenting everything, I had plans typed out, etc etc. Whatever.

The summary is this: Aaron had 4 potential teams - most with special attacking leaads, we happened to get the one leading with Scyther, this one.

Eirin was our lead to handle most of Aaron's leads, but obviously she could not deal with Scyther, so we switched to Sukuna, who set up a layer of Spikes, and then got a lucky crit and killed Scyther with Gunk Shot. This brought in Yanmega who wanted to use Psychic, giving me a (free) switch-in to Eirin, who then set up Stealth Rock and beat down Yanmega with Toxic and Seismic Toss. This brought in Pinsir, who wanted to use Close Combat, so I went into Sekibanki who was immune, and killed the already hazard-weakened Pinsir with a Hidden Power Fire. THIS brought in Scizor, so I went back into Sukuna who Intimidated in, then because Scizor literally cannot touch her for more than she heals, I was able to set up two more layers of Spikes. I bring Scizor into the red with Waterfalls from Sukuna, then, Aaron heals.

On the turn Aaron heals, I switch into Hina, so that I can switch again into Sukuna to get another Intimidate.

Scizor down.

Three layers of Spikes and Rocks onto a Bug/Dragon Flygon... lol.

We switch in to an Earth Power (god damn Sekibanki is so useful) and now we can kill!

Checkmate.

One. Down.

#CHAMPION CYNTHIA #WILL I COMPLETE THE ELITE 4 ON MY VERY FIRST TRY? CHECK TO FIND OUT #cross evo arc #elite 4 saga

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wing-ed-thing · 3 years ago

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The Envy (Itachi x Reader)

Word Count: 1,235

Tags/Warnings: Implied fem!Reader, Reader had hair and makeup done and wears a dress, Reader has Parents that are Doting and Supportive, Modern AU, Highschool AU, The Uchiha's are RICH

Notes: I love you all. This was an awesome prompt. Anon, you are an amazing supporter and I hope you had a great time at your prom.

Between the tugging, the hairspray, and the bobby pins, you were confident that if a tsunami-earthquake hit your venue, your hair wouldn’t budge an inch. Someone could have easily swapped out your hair for a fruit hat and you likely wouldn’t have felt the difference. But even despite the beginning of a no doubt raging headache, you were satisfied with the knowledge scientists could study your head as an immovable object. Truly a scientific phenomenon.

You scrutinized yourself in the mirror, a hand gingerly reaching up to tap at one of your curls. Perhaps you should bring a painkiller in your clutch since you already decided that there was no way you would be taking out the look that took hours to create. At least you had a makeshift helmet and in a flurry of goofy thoughts, you wondered if it might come in handy seeing as you were the envy of the senior class for snagging Itachi Uchiha as your prom date. You laughed at the thought, smoothing out your dress. Not that you had to do much snagging in the first place. And with hair of steel, at least no one could sneak up on you.

Your parents were eager to pull you away to take pictures. Prom never truly interested you in the past. Not to say that you were adamant about not going, but you had always been indifferent to the idea much to the dismay of your surrounding family. So you weren’t terribly surprised that your parents gifted you a bit of cash to get your hair and make up done upon hearing that you were actually planning to go. And they made sure to get their money’s worth, documenting every single thing that you did in your prom attire.

Drinking water through a straw! Putting on your shoes! Telling dad not to take pictures so close! You couldn’t help but smile at your own personal paparazzi, the two of them doting on the prospect of their child going to prom. It was sweet.

You glanced out through the window. A sleek, black sports car (that you never bothered to learn the name of) pulled up in front of your home.

“Oh my god, he’s here.” You placed a hand over your mouth, careful not to mess up your lipstick as you politely pushed past your parents. Two more cars rolled up, parking a bit behind Itachi.

You stepped outside, hardly containing yourself as he stepped out from the driver seat. Itachi tried so hard not to smile, but he couldn’t help the goofy little grin that cracked on his lips. His head fell the moment he saw you before meeting your eye with a sentimental expression. You and Itachi grew up together, but when high school hit, you became too busy to see each other as regularly as you wanted to. But now at the end of your senior year, the two of you hoped to reclaim at least a little bit of that back.

He made his way over to you, finding that stopping in the middle of the street likely wasn’t the best way to start your prom night. Your movements were impeded by your shoes, but you soon met him in a relieved hug. Tonight would mark the beginning of the end to your senior year and you both would be spending it with the one person who was always there through it all.

You hardly noticed his parents talking to yours or the stranger that appeared in your front lawn as he offered you a small box.

“I didn’t know if you thought that it would be too much, but I bought one just in case.” You hummed, shaking your head as you held the corsage in your hands. Itachi certainly had excellent taste.

“No, it’s perfect! It matches and everything. I, uh, I have a boutonnière. It’s, um, in the fridge?” He helped secure the band around your wrist as you looked over your shoulder to your picture-taking parents. Your dad gave you a thumbs up, hurrying inside to grab the flower for Itachi’s lapel.

The Uchiha didn’t mess around when it came to scheduling and certainly went all out in everything they did, you would give them that. So you found it difficult to bat an eye at their hired professional photographer. Knowing Uchiha family theatrics, you likely should have expected the chic looking woman who suddenly took over to direct you. Itachi shot you a cut, sympathetic nod. Today, you didn’t mind.

“You look amazing,” he told you, discreetly leaning down to mutter in your ear with a shutter of the camera. You glanced up at him, whispering appreciation back.

“And of course you look like you just stepped off the runway, as usual…” Itachi rolled his eyes at your slight smirk. It was true. He adjusted the collar on his dark, formal polo neck before running his fingers down the inner part of his jacket. A simple, gold chain hung down to his pecs. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was all designer (and real gold for that matter). The Uchiha certainly had the cash, but you were satisfied with your simple mall trip.

“Yes! Keep talking to each other, you’re doing great!”

You must’ve been dragged all over the house, lawn, and backyard by the time you and Itachi managed to finally get into his car. Of course, the photographer insisted that you both took pictures with that as well before Itachi finally closed your passenger door on her and pushed the ignition button. You didn’t even know that cars could have an ignition button.

***

Apparently, Itachi danced and went hard. And now, you would forever have the memories on video. You remembered slow dancing together when you were kids or him mentioning high end events that he’d go to every once in a while with his family, but never had you seen him go quite as hard as he did. You glanced up at him from across the table. The time at the top of your phone read a number past midnight, but the diner was open twenty-four hours.

Itachi had since shrugged off his jacket and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. A coffee sat in front of him as you decided on what to order, the both of you too tired to make quick decisions. Itachi rubbed at his right shoulder, rotating it a bit back.

“Maybe the backflip was too much…” he mumbled and you raised an eyebrow.

“You think?” You snorted as you looked longingly at the menu. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “But it was really fun watching you let loose. Maybe it’s a sign that you’re too tense all the time.” You took a sip of his coffee before scrunching your face up in disgust. “I have no idea how you take it like that.”

“Maybe because it’s my coffee.” You laughed, considering getting some caffeine of your own when the bell over the entrance chimed.

“Itachi!” Shisui shouted across the dining room much to the dismay of the staff and other customers. “You aren’t falling asleep on us, are you, buddy?” Shisui and his date began making their way towards the two of you. A few other of your mutual friends trickled in the door.

You’d have to push some tables together, but the night was sure to continue.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#itachi x y/n #itachi x you #Itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #itachi #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto imagines #naruto imagine #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto scenarios #naruto scenario #x you #x reader #reader insert

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fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years ago

Text

that's what i want for him

post-eddie begins | eddie meets with his attorney to change his will | a little feelings realization | a little pining | a little buckley-diaz family moment

4,097 words

AO3 link

The day that Eddie has his appointment with his attorney to alter his will, he’s sick with nerves.

He thought he had made peace with his own mortality a long time ago, when he enlisted and found himself pinned down, a world away from his family and bleeding out in the middle of a warzone — but something about the official stature of a will has always made him feel nervous.

He’s still young, and he has no plans to die anytime soon, but who really does? Shannon certainly hadn’t planned on it either. Dealing with grief is hard enough as is, especially when it’s the loss of a parent, and if Eddie can make that experience any more bearable for Chris, then that’s what he’s going to do.

Ever since Shannon died, he’s had his parents down as Christopher’s legal guardians should anything happen to him. It wasn’t a decision he ever felt comfortable with — but he didn’t have anyone else, and he didn’t really have a choice. He had to make sure that Christopher had someone in case things went wrong on a call.

But since the well came down — well, before that actually. Ever since the tsunami, ever since the lawsuit, ever since the skateboard accident — Eddie’s known that he needs to adjust his will, because in none of those situations were Eddie’s parents around to make sure Christopher was okay.

Buck was.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care. They certainly called Eddie after they heard the news about the tsunami. They asked if Christopher was okay (not him, Christopher), and made their usual comments about how Texas would be so much safer for him — they hadn’t had both an earthquake and a tsunami over the last year. They made sure they did their best to let Eddie know that he was making a mistake keeping Chris there, that he was making a mistake not relocating him after he lost his mom, that Chris was going to get seriously hurt one of these days and it would be his fault. They said all of the things he knew they would.

But they weren’t there.

The well was a close call — too close — and in that moment when the mud came down on top of him and the water started to fill his lungs — he realized he couldn’t leave Christopher with them. Not when there was someone else right there, someone who loved Christopher the way he did, someone who would do anything for him, someone who understood him.

He’s still reeling from the accident a bit, as he sits in the office, bouncing his leg up and down and trying hard to tamp down his nerves and failing, as you do after near-death experiences. He keeps having to remind himself that he’s not down there anymore, that there isn’t water all around him, that he can breathe perfectly fine, that he’s on solid ground now.

He has to remind himself that when he fell, Buck and Hen were there to grasp his hands and pull him back up. He’s okay.

“Mr. Diaz?” A voice calls to his left. He looks up to see his attorney in the doorway, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She smiles at him politely.

She’s a tall, fairly nondescript woman, with soft, quiet features, and thick curly black hair that’s always pulled back into a bun. She always comes dressed in suits but leaves her suit jacket draped over the back of her chair, moving about her office and greeting clients in soft cashmere sweaters.

She always seems to be wearing a smile — but not in an unsettling way. When Shannon was still around, when Eddie was warming up to the idea of welcoming her back into his life, Eddie had made some comment about her having middle school teacher energy — the kind of middle school teacher that still enjoyed working with kids but also took them seriously and didn’t allow any room for bullshit — and Shannon had laughed at him for using the word energy. She said something about Buck rubbing off on him and he rolled his eyes.

It’s just that she reminds him of someone, someone from his past — but he just can’t ever place her. He’s always been bad with faces. But there’s something familiar and grounding about her, something that helped Eddie feel calm when he first met her. But today, she doesn’t calm his nerves.

He feels sick.

He hasn’t seen her since Shannon died.

He stands up and wipes his shaking hands against his jeans, following her into her office.

When Eddie imagined an attorney’s office, when he was a little younger and more naive, he imagined it being small, cramped, with overflowing filing cabinets against one wall and bookshelves filled with boxes of legal documents and binders and books filled with rules and statutes that he could never dream of understanding. He imagined it as something that would make him feel small and cramped — and that the lawyer on the other side of the desk would peer over their tiny wireframe glasses at him and scrutinize every decision he made.

But Stacy’s office is different — it’s calmer, more minimalist. Her walls are a cool white that contrasts against all of the black furniture. The boxes on her shelves are a uniform grey with white labels with little script that’s illegible to Eddie. She even has a little bonsai tree on her desk. It reminds him of a therapist’s office — one that Shannon tried to make him see earlier on in their marriage, between deployments. Sometimes he can appreciate the universe’s weird sense of humor. Today he doesn’t.

He hates having to be here, having to deal with all of the weird legal aspects of living and dying, but he’s doing this for Christopher, so he swallows his nerves.

“I understand you’re wanting to change your will?” Stacy begins, pulling Eddie’s file onto her desk and flipping it open. He nods.

“Yes, I just want to make an adjustment to the legal guardianship — for Christopher,” She nods for him to continue. “After last year, I changed it so my parents would be his legal guardians. I’d like to change it again.”

Stacy smiles softly at him again before pulling something up on her computer. She opens a drawer and retrieves some blank paperwork and sets it on her desk.

“And who will you be changing it to?”

“His name is Evan Buckley. He’s...my friend. Coworker, actually, but...he understands Chris better than they do. Or ever could, really.”

Stacy nods, writing Buck’s name down on the paper before setting the pen down, folding her hands together again, and studying Eddie.

“So, last year when we adjusted your will after your wife passed, I remember your parents being here with us,” She says, and it’s not unkind or pointed in any way, but her words still make Eddie shift in his chair, like he’s done something wrong.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, clearing his throat.

“And Mr. Buckley isn’t here with us today.”

“No,” Eddie says, picking at a loose strand in the hem of his jeans. “He’s working a shift today.”

“I see, are you sure you don’t want him to be present for this? It’s a big decision.”

Eddie blinks at her before shifting his eyes around the room.

“Does he need to be here?”

“No, not at all. We normally encourage both parties to be here, but I’m sure you’ve gotten his consent already, it’s just a formality, really,” Stacy smiles and turns back to her file, picking the pen up again, and opening her mouth to ask another question, when Eddie interrupts her.

“Do I need to have, um, written consent or something to do this? I don’t remember my parents having to sign anything.”

Stacy looks back up at Eddie. For a moment neither of them says anything. She slowly sets her pen back down.

“It’s not required, but it is recommended. This is a big decision, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trusting someone as your child’s legal guardian isn’t something to be taken lightly — especially when they’re not family.”

Eddie frowns — he’s not taking this lightly. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. Every morning when he sits down with Christopher to have breakfast it’s a reminder that he almost lost this. Every time he comes home to Christopher after a long day of work there’s a sense of relief that he’s never felt before — he got to come home again. When he sees the drawings of Shannon that Christopher did that Eddie keeps locked in his nightstand — unable to throw them away, but definitely not keeping them anywhere where Chris could find them again — he remembers how close Chris came to losing another parent.

When he thinks about Chris being uprooted, ripped out of this life they built in California just to be dragged back to Texas, with parents like his who always think they know what’s best but never allow room for adjustments, with parents he knows will stifle him — it’s heartbreaking. He knows this is the right decision.

But Stacy doesn’t give him the opportunity to say all of that, and she continues to press, gently.

“You have had a conversation about this with him?” Eddie shrinks in his chair a bit.

“No, we haven’t — we haven’t talked about it. But, look, you don’t know Buck, okay? This isn’t,” He pauses, waving his hand while he tries to figure out what to say. “A couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident. It was pretty bad, and — I could’ve died. I was drowning and all I could think about was how I couldn’t leave Chris alone. And then, if I did die, how miserable he would be with my parents. I mean, you met them.”

Stacy doesn’t respond.

“Well, I was raised by them, so — I know what they’d be like, and I don’t want that for Christopher. Buck would do anything for Christopher. Already has. He’s...it’s him. I want him to be Christopher’s guardian, you know, if anything ever happens.”

Stacy nods and sits back in her chair.

“Eddie,” She starts, breaking formality. “Listen, I understand. This kind of thing happens more often than you’d think. There’s a kind of clarity that comes to people when they have a close encounter with death. I imagine it was especially clarifying for you, so soon after your wife’s death.”

She sits up again and studies Eddie carefully.

“I just want to make sure that you’re aware — if something happens and you haven’t told Mr. Buckley, he could refuse.”

Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

“No,” He says confidently. He looks at Stacy again, dead in the eye so that she knows he’s serious. “He wouldn’t do that. Believe me.”

“And if your family tries to fight it?” Eddie looks away then, and his eyes get a little distant. He smiles a small, private smile, before looking back at Stacy.

“They won’t ever fight as hard as him. Trust me.”

Stacy holds his gaze for a moment.

You learn a lot about people when you’re in her line of work — people come in all of the time and show her their hands, inadvertently pouring their hearts out, and revealing everything that’s most important to them as they sort out their estates. She’s seen plenty of people make weird, terrible, stupid, and callous decisions in the event of their death. She’s seen plenty of people come in after a close call and make hasty, half-baked decisions that she doesn’t have the power to counsel them against.

But, with her admittedly limited understanding of who Eddie Diaz is as a person, he’s not the kind of person who makes hasty, half-baked decisions, especially not when it comes to what he loves most — Christopher. They’ve only seen each other a few times: when Eddie first moved to LA and was altering his will, and when Shannon died. She’s seen him worn, tired, dragged down by grief. From what she sees, he’s a man who’s burdened by the need to do what's right for everyone else around him.

When he came in with his parents the year before, he had seemed small, and it had struck her. She remembered him from their first meeting as an army man with strong shoulders and a jaw set with stubborn determination — but then he just seemed like a child.

The man in front of her now is somewhere in between, softened by the home he’s clearly made for him and his son here. He’s still worn, a little shaken after his incident, still clearly grieving the loss of his wife, but the look in his eyes is strong and sure.

And as much as she would prefer that Mr. Buckley, or Buck, as Eddie keeps calling him, were here, she can clearly tell the difference in how Eddie feels about him versus his parents by the way he talks. He didn’t say much when his parents were in her office, just nodded along to what they said and made quiet, reserved comments to affirm their decisions. At the time, she wasn’t sure if it was the grief or their presence that was making him small — but she gets it now. Buck clearly understands Eddie in a way that few people have before.

She just hopes that Eddie talks to him about it soon — because the man does seem to be a kind of magnet for life-threatening situations, and she would really prefer not to have to break the news to a surprised, grief-stricken Evan Buckley herself. That’s her least favorite part of the job.

But she doesn’t press any further — Eddie’s made his case and Stacy’s certain she won’t be able to convince him to hold off any longer to at least talk to Buck, and they finish sorting out the paperwork.

Stacy sends Eddie off with the promise to get in touch with him when the changes to his will are finalized, and a gentle suggestion to talk with Buck soon.

He’s out the door feeling a dozen pounds lighter.

Eddie considers telling Buck after that, he really does. He understands that it’s probably something he should hear about sooner rather than later. But something holds him back, something makes him want to keep those cards close to his chest, and he’s not sure why.

He doesn’t tell anyone, not for a while. He really should tell his parents — and he will, eventually — but he’s not really looking forward to that particular conversation. He can already hear their arguments in his head, how Buck is in just as dangerous a profession as he is, how Buck is a stranger — not family, how he’s barely known this man for two years when they’ve known him his whole life — that one will make him laugh, he’s sure.

The first person he tells ends up being Carla.

It’s a few weeks later and he’s chatting with her on the phone, chopping up vegetables in the kitchen, helping prep dinner while Chris and Buck are playing games in the living room.

He’s been thinking about broaching the topic all night, now that he’s gotten a chance to be alone with Buck, but he feels a little anxious at the idea — even though he knows Buck won’t refuse. It just feels like a big thing that they probably won’t ever have to deal with — it’s not like he plans on dying.

But the idea is fresh in his mind, so it shouldn’t be that surprising when Carla asks him what’s new and he responds, “I changed my will.”

She doesn’t say anything for a second, and Eddie glances down at his phone to make sure the call didn’t get disconnected on accident.

“Oh?” Carla asks, clearly surprised. “What made you change it?”

“The well,” Eddie says, sliding some chopped carrots off the cutting board and into a bowl. He hears Carla hum in acknowledgment, then smiles as he hears Buck shout from the living room. Chris beat him, again. He’s alive, he’s okay.

“What exactly did you change?”

“Christopher’s legal guardianship...you know, if anything like that happens again and, uh, I don’t make it,” He tries to say this casually, but his throat starts to close up again at the end. He coughs.

“Who’d you change it to?” Carla asks, her voice soft. Eddie pauses, then steps away from the counter, peeking around the corner to check on Buck and Chris. The volume of their game is loud — too loud, really — but they’re engrossed in it, and Eddie’s comfortable with the thought that they can’t overhear his conversation. He walks back to his phone.

“Buck,” He admits quietly.

“Did you talk to him about this?” Carla asks, eventually, and it strikes Eddie how well she knows him. She doesn’t even sound surprised that he made Buck Christopher’s legal guardian.

When he doesn’t respond, he hears Carla sigh.

“Eddie, this is the kind of thing you should talk to him about. If something happens and he suddenly finds out from your lawyer—“

“He’s not gonna refuse,” Eddie says confidently.

“No, and I didn’t say that he would. It would just be fair to him to tell him before, God forbid, something happens to you and he has to hear it from a stranger instead of his best friend.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Carla,” Eddie says, and he wants to feel confident as he says it, wants it to come off light-hearted and joking, but he’s still terrified and his voice betrays him.

“I know you’re not, honey,” Carla says sympathetically. “But we both know that anything can happen to any one of us, any day. I know I don’t need to remind you of that.”

Eddie nods, even though Carla can’t see him, and continues chopping vegetables.

“It’s just,” Eddie pauses, working out his words. “I don’t — should I tell Christopher? Maybe he should know first.”

“How did you do it when you changed it with your parents last year?” Eddie shrugs.

“Wasn’t really my decision. They were here, they decided it should be them, they told Christopher, we went to my attorney and made it happen. This time...this time it was my choice. And I don’t really know what to do here.”

He lets out a shaky laugh and finds himself, surprisingly, wishing Shannon was here.

It’s one of those things that happens after you lose someone you love — you forget all of the bad parts of your relationship and start to miss the good. He wishes she was here right now, chopping vegetables, teasing him for being useless in the kitchen. He wishes he wasn’t having this conversation right now. He wishes he didn’t feel so old, so marked by death.

He hears Christopher’s victory shout from the living room again, and his heart races to latch onto it. As long as he has his kid, everything’s okay. He wouldn’t take anything back — not for this. Christopher’s happy now.

Then he hears Buck laughing good-naturedly, hears him lowering the volume, and then listens as Chris tries to wheedle another round out of him.

“Come on, buddy, it’s time for me to start dinner. I gotta make sure your dad doesn’t burn any of our dinner in there, or accidentally chop a finger off cutting vegetables. Let’s go get you washed up and then we can help him out, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t hear Christopher’s response, he imagines it was something like a groan and a not-so-subtle eye roll, but he registers the sound of the TV cutting off and Buck’s weight lifting up off the couch. A couple of seconds later and there’s the sound of running water in the bathroom down the hall, and Christopher giggling over the noise.

Everything’s okay.

“Look, Carla, I’m sorry to cut this short but — Buck’s here and he’s about to come help me out in the kitchen, so, I gotta—“

“Just breathe, Eddie. You’ll figure it out, okay? Just make sure you tell him soon.” Eddie hums, noncommittal, and he’s pretty sure he can hear the way Carla shakes her head fondly. “And give that boy a kiss for me, will you?”

“Christopher or Buck?” Eddie jokes before he can stop himself. He freezes, knife hovering mid chop. He hears the water in the bathroom shut off and starts to panic, for some reason he can’t explain. That’s a normal joke to make about your friend, right? Carla would totally kiss him if she was here.

“Whichever one you want,” Carla says after a while, quiet and knowing.

“Hey, is that Carla?” Buck asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Great, thanks Carla, bye,” Eddie rushes, flustered and scrambling to end the call. He turns back around to face Buck, who’s looking at him quizzically.

“I was just gonna say hi?” He says, tilting his head to the side. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Great,” Eddie says, unconvincingly. Buck raises an eyebrow. “Um, fine, just — not sure...how many...potatoes you need me to chop?”

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. He studies him, eyes flicking over his face, mentally running through his memory to see if Eddie’s been off lately. And, well, he has — he almost died a couple of weeks ago.

Eddie’s caginess isn’t hard to read — but Buck’s gotten pretty good at knowing when’s the right time to push and when’s the right time to sit back and wait, let Eddie come to him. As much as he doesn’t like it, this is a sit back and wait kind of situation.

He regards Eddie one last time before stepping up to the counter next to him, his hand hovering behind Eddie’s back. Eddie really wants to know why that makes him nervous all of a sudden. They’re close to each other all the time, practically touching each other constantly, but right now proximity to Buck is making it hard to breathe. Buck’s only got a couple of inches on him but it feels like he’s towering over him. It’s making him a little dizzy.

“I’m pretty sure this is enough,” Buck says, sliding away from Eddie and pulling a tray out of the cabinet by the stove, blissfully unaware of the way Eddie’s heart is racing in his chest. “I told Christopher he could help so I figured he could season the vegetables? I’ll measure the spices out for him so we don’t end up eating pure salt like we did last time.”

He sends Eddie a wink as he says that and then turns around, pulling spices out of Eddie’s cabinets and grabbing these tiny bowls that Eddie didn’t even know he had. He’s stunned, watching Buck move around the kitchen with ease, like this isn’t the hundredth time Buck has been over to cook them dinner.

It feels a little like he stepped into some alternate reality, like everything is exactly as it should be but something’s just slightly off. Something’s shifted, but he’s not sure what.

When Christopher comes in moments later, Buck gets him set up at the table easily, letting him sit himself and setting his crutches to the side, placing the tray down in front of him with all of the spices in reach, and pointing out what each of them are and explaining how they flavor the food.

He drizzles the oil over the vegetables and then lets Chris go for it, dumping the bowls over the tray and then getting in there with him, using their hands to coat them all evenly. And that, of course, is Christopher’s favorite part. While Eddie’s still processing, the kitchen’s filled with the sounds of Christopher laughing and Buck laughing along with him, encouraging the way he tosses each vegetable around to cover it in spices.

Eddie stands at the counter, still stunned, but warm all over. This is the kind of thing that keeps him going, the kind of thing that keeps him fighting when things get hard. It’s the kind of thing that Eddie will tuck inside his heart as a precious memory that will come back to him in the future whenever things inevitably get dark again.

He doesn’t want to tell Buck about the guardianship yet. He’ll tell Christopher first, and then his parents, and then, whenever the moment’s right, then he’ll tell Buck.

He’s not in any kind of rush. Things are perfect right now, and he just wants to enjoy that for a little bit longer.

#al talks #buddie #911 fox #okay maybe i’ll slow down now that i got this out of my head fjskfj #my fic

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years ago

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Lovedust Pt.8 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N and Josh talk things over about where they stand as Y/N tries to build the courage to confess to Peter. One night on top of the roof, Y/N and Peter reveal any secrets they’ve been keeping from each other.

Word Count: 5k

Author’s Note: This is technically the last part of Lovedust but there will be an epilogue. I was going to go a whole different direction and make it too angsty because sometimes, life works out that way but you guys deserve a happy ending ;) This series was only meant to be about three parts long but because of ow supportive and kind you all have been, I just have no words except thank you all so much. I will give a better thank you for the epilogue but until then, enjoy the chapter.

Warning: adult language

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || epilogue

You stared up at your bedroom ceiling quietly, picking at the stitching of your blanket to the point where you had about four inches of loose thread massaged between your thumb and middle finger.

Three minutes.

Peter was presumed dead for three minutes as you were giving him CPR that was literally a race against the clock. One hundred eighty seconds was the span between life or death and you couldn’t help but think of what if you had stopped after a minute? What about one hundred and seventy-nine seconds?

Three minutes. Your mind was so fucked that the only thing you could compare the time to was that Peter was dead longer than the time it took to pop a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

You thought back to the time where you had gone to California with Tony where you were alone in the hotel room while he had a conference. You remembered how scared you felt when the ground started to shake underneath you as the earth rolled underneath.

That earthquake must’ve only lasted fifteen seconds tops and yet, you felt like it was an eternity of shielding yourself underneath one of the desks that would’ve surely broken if the roof caved in overhead.

It’s odd how times works, whenever you’re in a dangerous situation, your body literally slows downtime so you can have the best chance at survival. So while those three minutes didn’t seem like a long time, the lingering fear of losing Peter after everything sent your body through emotional distress like no other.

It felt like a cruel joke; you had only come to realize you were in love with him when he was dying in front of you. What was even crueler was that even though everything seemed less complicated now that you really understood how you felt about him, it was only the tip of the iceberg.

It had been a few days since you had seen Peter since the night of the party and you felt like you were slowly losing your sanity. Your dad tried convincing you that Peter needed to be monitored for a while but maybe he just wanted you two to stay away from each other since you practically almost killed him by kissing Josh.

You loved Peter and he “loved” you yet once he was cured, he wouldn’t share the same feelings for you. What would happen once he was cured? How different would things be between you, especially since you would be having feelings for someone who doesn’t love you back?

Loving someone who surely wasn’t in love with you felt like a whole new level of self-destruction.

Your phone rang from underneath your pillow and temporarily interrupted your thoughts. You reached under the pillow to pull out your phone to find that Josh was calling you.

You inhaled sharply as you practically leaped out from under your covers, unsure of what to do.

The last you heard from Josh was the night of the party but just like Peter, you hadn’t seen or spoke to him since. That wasn’t the full truth, Josh had been texting you to make sure you were okay but you didn’t have the strength to even reply to his worried texts.

Poor Josh. He felt like an innocent bystander who got hit in the crossfire of what was going on between you and Peter.

In past relationships, you were like Josh. Your past boyfriends seem to always treat you as a rebound, a backup in case things went south and as gross as it made you feel, it was like you could sort of understand why your exes felt that way.

You didn’t want to lead Josh on, he was too nice of a guy to deserve that type of treatment. Your thumb hovered over the screen and you answered his call at the last second. He deserved that at the least.

“ Hey sorry, I was um, preoccupied. Is everything okay?” You asked as you started to pace your room.

“ I was going to ask the same for you. You haven’t been answering my texts and I was getting worried.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as a wave of guilt washed over you,” Y-Yeah I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through some stuff. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“ You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something in person, are you doing anything at the moment?

You rolled your shoulders back as you let out a deep sigh. In all honesty, you didn’t feel like leaving your room but if you were going to pick Peter over Josh, you also would have to owe him an explanation.

“ Okay, where do you want to meet?”

“ We can meet outside your complex, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“ Oh that’s probably easier anyway, when are you gonna come over?” You asked as you fell backwards onto your bed.

“ Um...I’m already outside.”

Your eyes widened as you scrambled over to your window to squint out towards the entrance. Sure enough, if you squinted really hard, you could make out Josh’s car outside the front gate.

“ Oh fuck! Sorry um, I’m coming out now!” You didn’t bother to let Josh respond as you hung up the phone and practically rushed out of your bedroom.

You practically sprinted across the front lawn all the way to the entrance and once you opened the gate, you leaned your body against the side of Josh’s car to help catch your breath.

“ You didn’t have to run all the way here, I could’ve waited,” Josh said with a smile as he watched you struggling.

“ I know,” You huffed as you felt yourself calm down,” but it would have been awkward if you just stood there for five minutes and watched me walk the whole way.”

“ Okay, that’s fair,” Josh chuckled as he leaned against the side of his car beside you,” I wanted to talk to you about the night of the party. I just want to make sure you’re okay and I’m sorry if I overstepped by kissing you. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

You felt your heartstrings tug at his words as you looked down at your flip flops. You didn’t know how to explain to him that he wasn’t the one who overstepped but that the kiss was never supposed to happen.

“ You don’t have to apologize Josh and you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. It’s just...I know how you feel about me and don’t get me wrong, I’m so flattered that you actually like me because to be honest, you’re way out of my league but um,” You awkwardly rubbed your sweaty hands against your pajama bottoms and let out a shaky breath,” I thought things were fine and that they would go back to normal but um, things kinda just happened and you were there and I thought hey he’s cute, like super cute, and Kim was being so pushy-”

“ I know you have feelings for Peter, it’s okay Y/N,” Josh interrupted as he took a moment before wincing,” I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I had a feeling that’s where you were heading with it. Plus you ramble when you’re nervous and I don’t want you to say something embarrassing. ”

Bless his soul, Josh really would be the death of you.

“ Is it that obvious I like him?”

“ Painfully obvious yeah. I kinda figured you two had something going on but after you gave him CPR and you two gave each other that look, that’s when it all clicked for me,” Josh said as you felt the tips of your ears get hot.

“ Josh, I am so sorry. I really mean it when I say that you’re the sweetest guy I have ever met and I really do wish you the best,” You answered honestly and you felt even guiltier when Josh only shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t believe that even now as you were telling Josh you didn’t share feelings for him that he was still being incredibly sweet towards you.

“ Same goes for you, I hope he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I have to be honest and say that I can’t get rid of my feelings for you overnight but hopefully we can be friends somewhere along the line,” Josh offered as you felt your heart snap in two.

As you looked back at Josh, that’s when you could really make out the distinct difference between the two boys. You weren’t sure if what Josh was saying was truthful, he was harder to read than Peter and even though his mouth was saying one thing, you could see that there was some pain behind his brown eyes that told a different story.

Yet nonetheless, you admired that Josh, despite having the full right to completely guilt you and make you feel like shit because of what happened, still chose to put any malicious intent aside for your own good.

“ Is it okay if I hug you?” You asked as Josh returned a sweet smile, embracing you in his strong arms.

Despite the heaviness in Josh’s chest, he felt his heart flutter at the feeling of your body pressed against his. The hug was short but even in those few seconds, Josh felt himself trying to take a mental picture of this moment, something he would replay over and over as he did his best to get over you.

After Josh had left, you made your way back into your cave and hid out in your room for the rest of the night. You had school first thing in the morning and yet, you found yourself tossing and turning yet again.

To cure your restless mind, you left your room and headed into the kitchen to make tea. You were never the type to drink tea but you didn’t have the patience to just lay in bed, at least this way you were occupying your mind with something else.

As the water boiled, you kept your eyes on Peter’s bedroom door, your knee bouncing up and down as if you were anticipating him opening it. You wondered how he was feeling, considering he almost died and all.

You just wished you could have the confidence to just go up and talk to him, to admit that it was him all along and that you chose him.

You poured the tea into a mug and cradled it in your hands carefully as a pair of feet made their way into the kitchen. You turned around, anticipating Peter’s face but instead, you looked up to see your dad.

“ You didn’t hear it from me but Peter is up on the roof waiting for you. Just in case if you were wondering,” Tony said as he nonchalantly dragged his finger across the countertop and peeked his head towards your tea,” aren’t you glad I made you learn CPR? I know it was part of your lifeguard course but I’m glad it came in handy.”

“ Too soon,” You sighed as you watched your dad haphazardly look through the cupboards,” and I wasn’t wondering about Peter. I’m just minding my own business and then I’m heading to bed.”

“ Minding your own business? That’s not the Y/N I know.”

“ Well, what would the Y/N you know do?” You asked as you looked down at the inside of your mug,” am I supposed to just run over to the roof and profess my love for him?”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head,” I never said anything about love kiddo but the Y/N I know loves to talk so yeah, I expect some emotional reunion of the sort. You’ve always been known to be a bit theatrical.”

“ And who do you think I get that from?”

“ The one and only Potts,” Tony chuckled as a small smile crept onto your lips,” I don’t know what to say because I don’t think I can bring myself to give my daughter relationship advice about a guy who lives only a few doors down. If anything, it’s against my best interest but I will make this the one exception where I will intervene simply because if I don’t, no one else will. I think you should talk to Peter. He’s been through a lot and he has some things he needs to talk to you about.”

” Well he’s the one avoiding me so maybe he should come over and say it to my face,” You didn’t know why you turned so aggressive but you took a small sip of your tea to try and ease your nerves,” I know he’s been through a lot but we both have. That night of the party was just...too much for me. ”

“ You really are my daughter, always making it about you. You gotta give the kid a break.”

“ I- Dad it is all about me. That night fucking-not sorry- sucked and I don’t know what else to say. I jumped into a pool with my clothes on and I thought Peter was dead-”

“ But he’s not dead. He’s alive and breathing and waiting for you on the roof like I told you,” Tony interrupted as you exhaled slowly,” you love him, it’s a fathers worst nightmare but even I can see clear as day that you have feelings for him, are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

You liked to think you knew yourself better than anyone else and for the most part, it was true. Tony was probably the closest to knowing who you really were as a person and yet, everything he was saying still wasn’t enough to make you less paranoid.

“ I wouldn’t say you’re wrong but I’m too scared to say out loud that you’re right,” You said as Tony rolled his eyes,” what? What did I say?”

“ You love to talk and yet, you never say enough. I don’t have the patience to stand here and listen to you beat around the bush,” Tony kneeled down towards one of the cupboards and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the shelf,” you have a problem. Let me know how things go with Peter. Or don’t. I’ll find out anyway.”

You stood there, mouth wide open as you watched Tony playfully bump into your shoulder, what a bastard,” Yeah sure! You’re the one drinking at three am but I’m the problem?”

Tony only gave you a hasty wave before turning the corner to where the elevators were, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He was right, everything he was saying made perfect sense and yet, it annoyed you on how right he was.

You had absolutely no idea how to start a conversation with Peter now that you were sure of your feelings and yet, all you wanted to do was find him and reveal everything to him. You looked between your bedroom door and the elevators. You could either go back to bed or you could talk to Peter and nervously choke on your words like a schoolgirl.

Fuck no.

You walked over to your room with your mug in one hand but before you could open the door, your legs started to move in the direction of the elevators, seemingly with a mind of their own.

Fuck it.

You stepped into the elevator and made your way up the floors until you hit the roof access. You hardly spent any of your time on the roof since you had no reason to ever be up there in the first place but once you opened the door, you were immediately taken aback.

The greenroof took up almost half of the roof itself, the addition being nothing more than a general garden area to look aesthetically pleasing from the sky. Since most of the energy needed to run the facility was either solar or space related, the greenroof was more of a private garden that didn’t account for energy efficiency.

A mixture of moss and summer grass covered the roof in a thick blanket that never grew beyond the border of the garden and at first glance, the brightly freckled flowers planted along the pathway seemed random but as you walked down the graveled path, you could tell that there was some element of planning that went along with it.

Along the pathway stood different hues of green bonsai trees that stood tall and proud in their wooden boxes. You were so focused on the bonsais that you didn’t notice Peter sitting on one of the benches about a couple of yards away.

Your breath hitched in your throat but your feet continued to crunch along the graveled pathway as you made your way over to him. From Peter’s spot underneath the patio, he could hear you walking towards him but kept his eyes looking straight forward, unable to tear them away from the cityscape in the far distance.

You hesitantly took a seat beside Peter on the wooden bench and tucked your legs back so you could rest the mug on your thigh. The lights that Peter had strung up a few weeks back had lost it’s brightness, leaving behind a faded orange glow in its place but it was just the right amount of light needed to where you could read his expression carefully.

“ How are you feeling?” You asked quietly as you attempted to get a feel for what mindset Peter was in.

“ Good, I feel good,” Peter said back, almost quieter than the volume you started out with,” how are you feeling?”

While both of your minds were racing at the thought of the other person, the thoughts suddenly felt almost too personal, the atmosphere being instantly filled with the conversations you two weren’t having.

Out of the two of you, Peter felt like he had more to share and yet, more to hide. You were still completely clueless on the following; A) Peter was cured B) You cured him because of the kiss and C) He loved you back

It seemed like a dream come true, Peter was still in love with you without the lovedust and you felt the same way towards him and yet, he was still terrified. As everything began to feel more and more real, suddenly the idea of being with you made his chest tighten up.

He never knew if he could ever admit it outloud but he was scared that you liked him back because what if after all this time, after all the trials and tribulation the two of you had gone through, what if you two still didn’t work out?

There was so much history between the two of you and he was worried that all of the heartbreak and pining wouldn’t be worth it in the end. He loved you so much to where he knew that he needed you no matter what. It only hurt him more to think that from your last argument, you couldn’t even bring yourself to admit to him that you loved him.

Now that you were here in front of him, Peter would make sure you wouldn’t leave without hearing you say it back.

As Peter tried to carefully put his thoughts in order like he had practiced, you thought back to what your dad had told you and decided that you needed to start somewhere and you had to do that by being honest.

“ I’ve been struggling these last couple of days with what happened at the party. I can’t tell how you guilty I feel for putting you through so much pain and I wish I could take it all back. I feel so guilty because it was my fault you died- did you know that? I know the paramedics talked to you but you were dead for three minutes Peter and honestly, that was one of the worst moments of my life. I mean it’s up there with what happened to my parents,” You paused as you remembered to take a breath,” I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you.”

Peter felt his mouth dry up and for a moment, it was hard to swallow,” You didn’t kill me, you saved me. I still feel like I might be in shock from it all but I don’t blame you for anything that happened. I’m sorry I even put you through that cause I’m sure it was...a lot. But don’t ever say that you killed me, none of it was your fault.”

“ It was my fault. If it wasn’t for me and Josh-,” You stopped yourself before saying more. You didn’t want to talk about Josh, all you cared about was Peter but now, the thought was evident in Peter’s mind and he couldn’t seem to shake it out of him.

The image of you kissing Josh replayed in Peter’s head over and over again as his heart ached. Josh made things more complicated than they already were.

Peter’s biggest fear was losing you but to lose you to another guy? And yet, it still made Peter feel like he was between a rock and a hard place because Peter had only meant Josh on one occasion and it was enough to give Peter an idea that Josh didn’t have cruel intentions towards you.

Just because you loved Peter didn’t mean that you didn’t have feelings for Josh and that’s what made Peter crazy. You must’ve liked Josh enough to return the kiss right?

“ He’s a good guy, I see why you like him,” Peter finally said as he shifted awkwardly in his seat, not knowing what else to say,” he would make you happy.”

The comment shakes you in an uncomfortable way, was that supposed to make you feel better? Your annoyance was jealousy in disguise, you didn’t want to talk about Josh, you were here to tell Peter how you actually felt about him but because of how Peter was delivering it, it seemed like he was giving you an out.

“ It’s not- I don’t like Josh like that.”

“ You kissed him, I saw the whole thing. Do you just go around kissing people you supposedly don’t like?” Peter couldn’t help himself and let the words slip out so easily.

It was a low blow and the two of you both knew it.

It took every fiber of your being not to lash out at the accusation because you knew Peter had a right to be upset but you didn’t like what he was insinuating and you didn’t want the conversation to take a bad turn,” You don’t have to worry about Josh anymore. If you want me to be honest, yes, I thought there was something there but things changed. I came to talk to you because my dad said you needed to tell me something important but if you’re going to just sit here and belittle me, I’m not gonna take it. I get it, the lovedust is messing with your emotions but I’m extremely sensitive tonight, more than usual so just come back to me when you’re calm.”

You got up from your seat with a quickness but before you could step off the patio, Peter grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards the corner of the bench.

Peter felt like such an idiot, whenever he got anxious on the fine details, he had a tendency to let the big picture escape him but it was something he knew he needed to work on while he was around you. He wasn’t going to let the conversation die just before it had started, he knew his big mouth tended to escalate conversations with you but he couldn’t let you go, not this time.

“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just frustrated because this feels so one-sided. I never know what you’re thinking because you never tell me anything. You always avoid answering the question but I need more,” Peter practically begged as you felt yourself get a bit aggravated,” I am being calm but I’m desperate at this point. I need to know how you feel about me, don’t try to change the subject, I need to know. Tell me how I make you feel.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you pulled your hand away from Peter so you could regain your thoughts without him distracting you. You were suddenly chickening out, you had never felt so nervous in your entire life and you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear but it wasn’t easy taking a step forward when you don't know where your foot will fall.

“ This is hard for me Peter, I’m trying my best and I’m sorry if it isn’t good enough but ever since the lovedust, the dynamic is different and you’ve changed. It’s so much to get used to because of...how I feel towards you,” You said as Peter let out a frustrated breath.

He hated this feeling of going back and forth, he didn’t want to hear any of it. All he wanted was to just shake your shoulders because in his mind, you had no reason to be hesitant on opening up to him,” The lovedust didn’t change just me, it changed you too! I was vulnerable and I opened up to you, I showed you how I felt about you every second of the day but you have given me nothing!”

Nothing.

That word made your blood boil because nothing? Just because it was hard for you to let your emotions out didn’t mean Peter was getting nothing back in return. Since he was infected with the lovedust, you had been doing your best to open yourself more to him and you thought you had been doing a good job.

After all those years of Peter belittling you and tearing you down, of course, you would be a bit hesitant to let down your guard and yet, you did it anyway. It took so much to get to where you were comfortable with Peter to be vulnerable, especially when you broke down from your nightmare of your parents.

To break down and crumble in front of Peter wasn’t an accident, you could only be that vulnerable if you knew that he could help piece you back together.

“ Nothing? I gave you nothing?” You spat as you felt your eyes tear up,” I saved your life! I gave you the breath in my lungs to stop you from dying! I don’t owe you anything, I don’t need to prove shit to you!”

Peter stood up from the bench and while his heart ached from seeing you so upset, he knew that he couldn’t hold back,” Don’t pull that with me Y/N, you know you haven’t been honest with me. We both know that we can’t live without the other so don’t act like you did me a favor by saving me. Why won’t you admit it, even after everything we’ve been through, you’re still scared to just admit that you might love me!”

And just like that, you felt yourself let go.

“Of course I’m scared! I’m fucking terrified Peter! Is that what you want me to say? Do you want me to admit that me almost losing you would’ve broken me? Because you’re right! Yes, I love you!” You cried out as you took in a shaky breath,” I love you so much it hurts me and I didn’t understand how badly I loved you until I almost lost you! All I could think about when I was trying to save you was never hearing your laugh and never feeling your touch and I swear Peter, if you died, I would’ve never forgiven myself. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it but I love you. But none of it matters, you know why? Because you’re sick in the head, the lovedust is fucking with you and now it’s fucking with me!”

There it was, finally. After all of that time denying it and trying to hide your feelings to save your own sanity, you finally confessed. You had so many chances to confess that yes, it really was him all along.

When he came into your room and comforted you through your nightmare to the two of you shouting at each other in the rain, you had always loved him.

Even though Peter knew how you felt about him, this was the first time he heard it with his own ears and it was like hearing the symphony for the first time. Like your own soundtrack that swelled during the climax of the movie that was you and Peter, Peter could listen to you say it over and over again.

He didn’t care that most of your confession involved a string of swear words because, without them, it wouldn’t have been your true self. He knew once he admitted to you that he was cured, there would be no going back.

“ The lovedust is gone Y/N. When you kissed me- or saved me by giving mouth to mouth- the lovedust flushed out of my system completely. Banner did extra tests and he confirmed that I’m okay and back to normal all because of you.”

Your heart dropped to the floor as your eyes raked up Peter, testing to see if he was lying but he didn’t falter. This is what you were afraid of, confessing everything to him only to find out that he didn’t love you anymore but who would’ve thought it would be you to make him go back to normal.

And yet, a huge part of you was relieved because finally, the lovedust was gone. You didn’t need to worry about it ever screwing with you and Peter again but as you studied his expression, your chest felt heavy.

You had seemingly set up your own demise,” Oh, that’s good...I’m happy for you.”

You felt yourself take a step back but Peter reached his hand out to softly hold yours. You pulled your hand away but Peter swatted your stubbornness away and held your hand tighter. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles and when he looked back up at you, he felt his heart swell.

“ And yet, even though the pain is gone, I feel more love for you now than I have ever felt in my entire life. I understand what they mean when they say love hurts but if anything, it heals even more because you made me feel whole again. When you saved me and the first thing I saw was you looking back at me, it was like I was given a second chance to love you the right way, the way you were meant to be loved.”

“You were right, the lovedust made me fall in love with you but ever since you cured me, it was only a matter of admitting to myself that deep down, I’ve always cared about you. It opened my eyes and showed me that I will never have to look further in finding the one for me because you are everything and more,” Peter said as you moved your eyes from the floor to his figure,” I love you. I mean it. No exceptions, no strings attached, no lovedust required.”

Right then and there, you were at a loss for everything you could possibly hold; no words, no breath, no thoughts. Any resentment you held had shattered into microscopic pieces that would dissolve once crushed between something as delicate as your fingertips because he said everything you wanted to hear.

“ You love me?” You said quietly to where Peter made you repeat yourself,” Are you serious? Do you really mean it?”

Peter nodded and softly let out an ‘ of course I do’ as he brushed his fingers lightly over your cheek. He cupped your face gently with one hand as his thumb wiped away a stray tear,” Can I finally kiss you?”

Peter’s cheeks grew red as you nodded and leaned into his touch, innocently brushing your lips against his. Peter dipped his head down to close the space between the two of you and kissed you so softly, you had to pull him closer to you to actually kiss him back.

Even though Peter was the one who asked, he felt completely unprepared kissing you back. He had imagined over and over how warm your lips would be against his but now that he was actually kissing you, he didn’t think he had enough self-control to ever stop kissing you.

You never knew a kiss could be innocent and yet so intimate but as his lips moved in perfect sync, any other logistics of the feeling went away because all you could think about was Peter. You practically melted into his touch but before you could savor the kiss, Peter pulled away breathless.

“ S-Sorry, I forgot to breathe,” Peter gushed as you smiled back up at him,” what does this mean for us now?”

You traced your finger along Peter’s wrist as you thought quietly,” I don’t know but we can figure it out together.”

Peter hummed happily before dipping his head down to kiss you and when he pulled away, he fell himself falling in love with you all over again.

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lucyreviewcy · 4 years ago

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Fight Scenes that Tell The Story

I’m a big fan of fight scenes in films, and here’s why.

My favourite film of all time is John Wick. Knowing myself as well as I do, I recognise that this is because John Wick is one very long fight scene that tells a dark, mythical story: a hubristic young man wakes a demon by his own arrogant actions, and the demon methodically hunts him down, destroying everything in his path. That the story is told from the perspective of the demon makes it even more fascinating. If you haven’t seen John Wick, you should.

Having recently re-watched Quantum of Solace (purely because I read that the late, great Paul Ritter was in it and was intrigued, spoiler alert: he has no lines), I was reminded how bad action sequences can be. The chase scene from the start of that film is everything the action sequences in John Wick aren’t: too fast, too indulgent, and too heavily reliant on CGI. All we learn from that sequence is that James Bond is very fast and has good reactions. This isn’t new information, and the sequence is an overlong, empty thrill ride that has aged really badly.

The earlier Daniel Craig Bond films seem to have been influenced by the shaky cam action styles that the Bourne films made famous, but I don’t think the style of the latter transplants comfortably into the former. While the Bond films are technically spy stories with intrigue and complexity (in the case of Quantum of Solace, some of us are still puzzling over the storyline), they have a fairly straightforward morality at their centre: “James Bond is cool and naughty but ultimately right.” While the Bourne films have a confusing, unfolding morality rooted in a character who does not know who he is for a significant portion of the narrative. So the action is confusing, because Bourne is confused, he’s functioning on autopilot when he fights - his consciousness is a few seconds behind his body and he’s only properly aware of what has happened afterwards, when he’s surrounded by beaten and broken embassy security guards. We are meant to believe that James Bond constantly knows what he’s doing, and is broadly in control of the situation - so the action style should be fluid, demonstrating the competence that earns Bond his reputation. This is what the action in John Wick does: long takes and smooth camera work make these sequences unflinching and methodical, just like the character.

The house invasion scene from John Wick demonstrates Wick’s skill and control as he takes down masked man after masked man. The fact that this first action sequence takes place in John Wick’s own house allows him to use an environment he knows incredibly well to his advantage. He knows how to hide, how to get from place to place in the minimum amount of time, and he knows where all the knives are.

The action sequences we have talked about so far are mostly about establishing one character, but action can also tell a story about a relationship. The Matrix films demonstrate the difference between Agent Smith’s restrictive, ordered view of the world, and Neo’s humanity purely through their fighting styles. Neo’s fighting is artistic and depends on manipulation of the flimsy laws of physics that exist inside the Matrix, while Smith deploys blunt haymakers and hard, impactful punches which indicate that he is only interested in having the biggest physical impact possible. They are physically different characters, Neo is slighter, longer limbed, while Smith is barrel chested - like a battering ram with a receding hairline (I love Hugo Weaving, but this is an accurate description.)

In Rise of Skywalker, my least favourite Star Wars film, the final fight sequence between Rey and Kylo Ren gives the characters more depth than the rest of the film does. Their moves mirror each other to indicate that their minds are linked, and their physicality bespeaks exhaustion: as if neither character is sure why they are fighting the other anymore. The muddied morality of The Last Jedi. which undermines the “good vs evil” ideology that puts the rebellion firmly on the light side and the First Order in the dark, is an excellent explanation for this sequence. The Last Jedi explores the grey areas between dark and light, and demonstrates that both sides have paid a heavy cost for prolonging the conflict. Rey and Kylo Ren know that they want to fight each other, but ultimately after the journey which these characters have taken over the last two films, they are unsure of what it is they are fighting for.

There are breaks in this fight where the characters stare at each other, panting and tired, before launching into another attack. Rey and Kylo Ren are too well matched mentally to ever beat each other, and it is only when Kylo Ren is distracted by Leia’s death that Rey is able to defeat him. A triumph which is ultimately a pyric victory for Rey who realises that Kylo Ren’s death will not help her achieve her ultimate goal: which she isn’t even sure of. One of the frustrations I have with this film is that Rey’s motivation is fairly unclear, she just acts on instinct throughout. This scene actually owns to that, demonstrating the complexity of character and storytelling which can be achieved through action. The rest of the storytelling in Rise of Skywalker is chaotic and unimaginative, but this fight sequence tells you everything you need to know about the arc of these characters.

Action in films can be explosive and frenetic, and it can be included purely for spectacle. In films starring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, the action is often spectacle driven: here is a very large man punching a very large lizard/ building/ earthquake. In these films the plot is often quite simple, “The big man must stop the big lizard/building/earthquake from taking over/destroying the world”. When the plot is that simple, the action doesn’t need to develop character or relationship. But when your plot is “Um... the big man needs to stop the eco-start up billionaire from...something...oil”, frenetic, confusing action sequences feel mentally exhausting. Even though the plot of John Wick is simple, the twist of the monster movie happening from the monster’s perspective means the action has to make the experience of seeing him on screen something desirable to the audience (casting ultimate dish Keanu Reeves also helps.)

Do not write off action movies as a genre because they’re “just explosions”: that’s so wrong. Action sequences are a valuable, fascinating storytelling tool, and when a film makes good use of that it can be the most satisfying cinematic experience going.

#Movies #Films #Keanu Reeves #action movies #star wars #rampage #james bond #John Wick #dwayne johnson #Rey #Kylo Ren #Daisy Ridley #Adam Driver #Jason Bourne #Bourne Identity #Matt Damon #Daniel Craig #Quantum of Solace

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beatricethecat2 · 3 years ago

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"Chill for a minute! You're making me nervous," Myka says.

"I'll not miss the performance because of a third-rate watchman," Helena huffs.

"Abigail said she'd sort this out."

"Abigail got us into this."

"She didn't slug him."

"He tackled me."

"You grabbed the book and ran."

"And I'd have succeeded were it not for that wandering child," Helena gruffs. "Who brings a child to theater?"

"You wouldn't have brought Christina?"

"Were she old enough and properly dressed, yes. That child was in dungarees."

"They probably came to see the exhibition not the matinee—"

"We're not dressed properly either," Helena grumbles, swiping dirt off a pant leg.

"Theater's not as formal as it used to be. And you did put your hair up," Myka says, flashing a feeble smile.

"And now it's mussed. It wasn't much to look at to begin with." Helena fusses with her bun.

"Hey, I think you look really nice," Myka says, reaching over, stilling Helena's hands.

"This is hardly theater attire."

"It's the Oregon Shakespeare Festival not the Met Opera."

"Attending the theater used to mean something." Helena's hands drop to her lap.

"It still does, but not corsets and gowns." Myka raises a brow. "Would you have worn a dress if this was a real date?"

"I very well may have. I'd certainly have made more of an effort."

"A nineteenth or twenty-first century effort?

"May I not embody both?"

"Yeah, but I'm just noticing you sort of default to the nineteenth when you're around me."

"And you disapprove."

"No. It think it's kind of sweet. I like that you don't have to hide who you are with me." Myka bumps her shoulder into Helena's.

"And to think, I once yearned to live in a future such as this. I'd no clue how exhausting it'd be being out of time."

"It'll get easier," Myka says, meeting Helena's unsure gaze. She leans towards Helena and Helena follows suit, their lips nearly touching when a door slamming in the distance halts the action.

"So, um...when's the last time you saw Shakespeare?" Myka asks, recomposing herself.

Helena thinks back. "Hamlet, in Stratford; Sarah Bernhardt as lead. We'd travelled specifically to see her, as it was unusual for a woman to play a male's part. She was her bombastic self, but watching Shakespeare translated into French was odd. I may have opinions about the American accent as well."

"Oh you will."

"Flipping through those gravures on display really took me back. Then the cabinet cards...are you familiar with those actors?"

"No."

"Such a shame," Helena says, pushing up from her slouch to sit upright. "Ellen Terry, she who worked so very hard to elevate the acting profession for women and men; Lillie Langtree, the beauty who pulled her reputation up from the mud through her craft; Violet Vanbrugh, locked in competition with her sister for the spotlight...celebrities, one and all, yet seeing them now, they feel like lost friends."

Helena sighs deeply and looks away. "When I snatched the book, my mind was no longer present. Hence the guard getting a jump on me."

"It's going to work out," Myka says, flashing a comforting smile.

"How exactly is Abigail remedying this? I heard little of your hushed conversation earlier," Helena says, narrowing her eyes at Myka.

"She's convincing them to put it back so we can swap it with a copy she's sending."

"Could she not have done so previously?"

"With Artie out of town, she's scrambling to keep up."

"How exactly is she convincing them?"

"She's, um..." Myka looks down at her lap and adjusts her wrist watch. "Do you actually need to know?"

"I do now," Helena says, swerving in her seat to face Myka.

"She's posing as your therapist."

"And I'm a babbling idiot."

"No...our pitch is you're obsessed with Victoriana."

"Convenient," Helena grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do you want to see the play or not?"

"What do you think?"

"I think we wouldn't be here at all if Abigail hadn't asked us to snag volume nine of 'The Illustrated Library of Shakespeare.' And I think she'll fix this for now so we can see a play like two normal people who see plays. We'll worry about the book tomorrow."

Helena's scowl stays firmly in place.

"I'll make it up to you tonight at the hotel," Myka says, eyes pleading.

"Placating me for performing the Warehouse's bidding is not in the least desirable—"

"Ooh, look, he's coming out," Myka says, patting Helena's leg as she rises to talk to the head of security. "Stay here."

Helena stays put but her scowl grows all consuming.

-END SCENE-

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Bering and Wells: Field Trip ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 7 Title: Oregon: To one thing constant never

Summary: With Warehouse staff stretched thin, Myka and Helena are asked to dash from Myka's parents to The Oregon Shakespeare Festival. The pickup hits a snag when Helena, lost in memories, bungles the retrieval. Emotions run high when Helena reveals an unshakable impulse that threatens their newfound bliss.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6

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BONUS SCENE

The next day, in the parking in the lot of the festival, freshly off the phone from the Warehouse, Myka turns to Helena.

"Artie's booking us a flight. He wants us to bring the book in person—"

"We are not altering our plans again," Helena sneers. "He can pick it up from us."

"I think he needs it sooner," Myka mumbles. "It'll be quick, just a day or two. Maybe we can push our bookings up?"

"As if that's worked in the past."

"True," Myka says, shoulders slumping as she sighs defeatedly. "Then we'll skip Mendocino and head straight to San Francisco from there. I'll grab some of my stuff since we might stay in the city longer." She turns the key, revving the car to life.

"I'll drive to Mendocino and meet you in San Francisco. You go on to the Warehouse."

"But Artie said you can come," Myka explains, looking over her shoulder, backing out of their parking spot. She puts the car in drive and moves towards the exit.

"There's no reason for me to do so."

"But you haven't met Abigail. Or Steve, really. Plus Claudia's dying to see you—"

"Myka, I can't."

Myka steps on the brake and turns to face Helena. "Is this a Regent thing? Because Artie wouldn't have said you could come if you couldn't."

"It's not a Regent thing."

"Then what?" Myka huffs.

"We've not time to discuss this now."

"Then tell me the abbreviated version."

A honk from behind jolts them both.

"Alright, alright!" Myka grumbles, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"You go on. I'll follow our plan," Helena says. "I wish to feel the land shifting underfoot, as if Elizabeth, Christina, and I had made our way through California in my own day."

"Wouldn't that have been on a train? Or a carriage maybe?" Myka asks.

"Is a car not the modern equivalent?"

"I guess," Myka says, her face the picture of concern. "You know, most of San Francisco was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake. There's not much left from back then."

"No matter. It's the spirit in which it's encountered."

"Then I want to 'encounter' it with you."

"Then have them pick the book up from us. You're not obligated to obey their every beck and call."

"I guess not," Myka says, frowning as she stops at a red light.

"Their prerogative led us to rush here, waylaying our plans," Helena presses.

"And the plays."

"Which we may have seen, in our own time, had we not been browbeaten into a retrieval—"

"We weren't browbeaten, we were helping Abigail—"

"The light's green."

"I see that," Myka grumps, the car jerking forward as she presses on the gas too hard. "So that's why you won't come with me? You're mad we came here in the first place?"

"It more than that. My relationship with the Warehouse must remain distant. Better if I retain none at all."

"How exactly is that going to work? Because I live there."

"I'd rather not discuss this while you're driving."

"Then I'll stop." Myka flips her turn signal and veers left at an intersection. She swings into a parking lot turns off the engine. "You said I'm your One. That we're partners."

"You are both of those things to me."

"But you can't come to the Warehouse, maybe ever? Explain." Myka shifts in her seat to face Helena as fully as possible.

"I've come to understand distance may be the only remedy for certain...triggers."

"What triggers?"

"Where to start?"

"Anywhere, really," Myka gruffs, holding onto Helena's petulant gaze.

"A hundred years in bronze weighs heavy on one's soul."

"You were fine there before."

"Was I?"

"You said it was your tether!"

"I'd have said anything to—"

"Gain access, dupe everyone, and destroy the world. I know." Myka scowls. "But you wouldn't do that again."

"That's no longer my vice," Helena says.

"Then what is?"

Helena looks off into the distance. "A secondary plan, utilizing artifacts catalogued since my bronzing."

"W-What kind of plan?" Myka says, her back straightening.

"One in which Christina would be returned to me."

"Wait, you tried again when you were there?"

"How could I not?" Helena laments. "I've hatched countless schemes since."

"But you said you'd made peace with not having kids."

"Moving forward. But I may never find true peace with Christina's passing. Apparently, it's not uncommon."

"How do you know?"

"At the precinct, after particularly gruesome cases, they conducted psychological evaluations. I'd breezed through most, but one in particular, concerning the death of a little girl, was difficult to shake."

"Oh, Helena." Myka scoots forward and takes hold of Helena's hand. "What happened?"

"I recounted my story, albeit heavily modified, and learned about triggers. Avoiding them entirely was an acceptable solution, so the Warehouse...but you? You were a conundrum."

"I was a trigger, too." Myka slips her hand from Helena's but Helena grabs it back.

"You remained a symbol of hope, of all that was good in this world. I ached to be near you but feared disappointing you again. When you turned up in Montreal, I was drumming up the courage to approach you."

"But you weren't there yet."

"I wasn't," Helena says, squeezing Myka's hand. "Asking you to separate yourself from your home, from your calling, was difficult to justify. But after hearing of your illness, nothing else mattered but being by your side."

Helena cups Myka's jaw and strokes her cheek with a thumb. "But I must protect myself, and you, from those demons."

Helena shifts closer and guides their lips together. Their kiss lingers until Myka's phone rings.

"Artie," Myka says, answering in an instant. "We can't come. We'll keep the the book safe until someone can pick it up—"

Myka moves the phone away from her ear at Arties loud volume.

"Ok, ok! But H.G.'s not coming. Put me on a flight."

Myka places her hand over the microphone and glances at Helena. "He said Mrs. Frederic's there and 'needs it yesterday'—"

She's interrupted by Artie chiming in.

"I'm not taking a flight with two connections because it leaves tonight! Put me on a red eye."

Grumbling emanates from the other side of the phone.

"Five-thirty's fine. Send me the details."

More grumbling, then silence. Myka hangs up the phone.

"Artie seems his usual congenial self—"

"I'm really proud of you," Myka blurts, turning to face Helena again.

"Whatever for?" Helena asks, head tilting, brow furrowing.

"For fighting your demons on your own. Though I wish we'd been doing it together."

"From now on, we shall," Helena says, meeting Myka halfway as she leans in for another kiss.

Hands reach across the console, twining in hair, groping at necks, arms, shoulders, as if the space between them is too great.

Minutes later, a tap on the window jerks them apart.

"Ma'ams, bank won't open again until 9AM," a man says as Helena rolls down the window. "I'm going to have to ask to come back tomorrow."

"Bank?" Myka croaks, scanning the parking lot, eyes locking on a glowing sign at its entrance. "Oh, bank."

"Terribly sorry officer. We pulled over to take a call before becoming...distracted," Helena explains.

"Just a security guard, ma'am. But I'd appreciate it if you move on. I didn't want to disturb you but my manager's going to wonder why you were here so long."

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. We'd have been stealthier were anything afoot," Helena says with a wink.

"Helena!"

"Just reassuring the boy."

"We didn't mean to....we were just..." Myka stumbles over a more direct explanation.

"We've been granted one more night together before our separation."

"But we do have a hotel room."

"And mere hours before I'm to deliver you to the airport."

"True." Myka's lips push together, her face contorting into one of a new understanding. "Not enough hours. We should go."

"Thank you again for accommodating us," Helena says to the security guard.

"Um, sure?" he says as Helena rolls up the window.

"We'll make this work," Myka says, slipping a hand over Helena's thigh as she drives away. "I know we can."

"I adore your enthusiasm," Helena says, covering Myka's hand with her own, threading their fingers together.

-END-

-TBC-

NOTES: A quick reminder - this Christina is the daughter of Helena's original "One" back in the 1800's - Elizabeth. I think that story is in the second installment of this series. Also note this text probably pretty rough as I'm out of town and have sporadic internet (remember DSL?) and so haven't been able to use my usual text checkers (let me know if anything's super bad!) I'm putting it up now so I won't fuss over it as I'd like to not fuss over *anything* this week. Also, the first manip is one of my favorites - there's only one I can think of that tops it, but it's not public yet (I think you'll know when you see it.) Anyway, here are some of the people HG mentioned. And here are some of the amazing panoramas of the SF earthquake. Also Sarah Bernhardt - look her up, she was *quite* the character.

#BERING AND WELLS #w13 #fan fiction #roadtrip!AU #fan art #Myka Bering #Helena HG Wells #canon divergent #sorry this took so long to finish!#really happy to get this out there finally #I had to get my head back into it #going to try to get next one up sooner #as once the semester starts (in three weeks)#everything will be nuts for awhile #but we'll see once I'm back home and not on vacation!

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