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stellaluna33 · 4 years

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The Phone Call

A preview of what’s coming next in my Gilmore fic The Long And Winding Road, as a phone conversation between Jess and Luke. (You now know more than Rory will in the next chapter... No one knows this except Jess and Luke... and you.)

"Hello?"

"Hey, Luke."

"Jess. How's it going?"

"Oh, you know. Just fine. You still in Nantucket?"

"Yeah. Rory and Richie came with, as you probably know. But we also have a, let's say, 'surprise' visitor up here today."

"Reeeeally. Who's that?"

"Oh, none other than the great Logan Huntzberger himself, who finally deigned to see his son because he could pass it off as a polite visit to a family friend while he was 'in the area.'"

"Jeez. He still hasn't told anyone, has he?"

"Apparently not. Claims he's 'waiting for the right moment,' or some kinda bullsh**."

"Bastard."

"You're tellin' me. But why'd you call? You don't usually call this time of day."

"Yeah. Well, I, uh… I got some news today."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"So, I don't know if you remember me talking about that writer's residency program in Argentina last year?"

"Oh yeah, weren't you thinking about applying for that?"

"Yeah. I did apply for it, actually. There was a pretty long waiting list, though."

"Oh, I see. So, d'you hear something about that?"

"Yeah. Today, actually. I, uh… I got in."

"Jess, that is fantastic news! Good for you. That's a really great opportunity for you."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. I, uh… just… I'm not sure if I wanna take it."

"What?!! Jess, you can't be serious! You've been wanting to do something like this for God knows how long! And now you've got this opportunity and you're just going to let it pass you by?"

"I don't know, it's just… I don't know if it's a good time for me to be leaving the country right now."

"What, you got something goin' on at work?"

"No... No, it's not that, it's… I don't know."

"Well? What is it? What's stopping you?"

"I just… part of me thinks that I should be here, right now. In case… you know, in case a... friend might need me."

"In case a friend might- Oh jeez. Jess. Tell me you're not talking about Rory."

Jess took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily through his nose.

"Are you serious?! Jess! You told me you were over that! Long over, if I remember it correctly."

"Yeah, well, I was over it! At least, I thought I was…"

"Oh, Jess."

"I know! I know. I'm pathetic. I swore I would never end up like you, and yet here I am."

"Hey! Things didn't turn out so bad for me in the end, you know."

"I know. You're right. I'm worse. I already had my chance with Rory, and I screwed it up so badly that she wishes our entire relationship had never happened."

"Jess, you were just a kid. I'm sure that's not true."

"Oh no? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that's exactly the way she remembers it."

"Ah jeez. She put that in that book she's writing?"

"Yup."

"And you've been reading over it, right?"

"Yup."

"Well, sh**. I'm sorry, Jess."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is, and it's my own damned fault, so I don't really have the right to be put out about it."

"Well, ok, but… that being the case, don't you think it's time to let this go?"

"Past time. But that's the worst part… I've tried. G-d, I've tried. And I thought I was mostly ok with it, you know? There's been occasional relapses of… regret or… moments when I've wished things could've turned out differently, but… I haven't been hoping for anything. I've been trying to move on. I've had relationships."

"You only went on, like, two dates with that last girl, what was her name?"

"Sylvia?"

"Yes, Sylvia! But two dates, Jess! You give up that quickly and you call that trying?"

"That's what I'm getting to, though. This year has been… different. It wasn't so bad when I only saw her for a few minutes every couple years or so, but between the wedding and the book and everything that's been going on with her lately, Rory and I have been talking all the time, and I just… I still like her more than any other woman I've ever met, Luke. And I told myself that she hasn't wanted me for over a decade now. She made her feelings abundantly clear, and I have offered myself up like an idiot over and over and over again, just on the off chance that she might have changed her mind, and she has turned me down every single time. I mean, how many times does she need to say it before I get a clue? 'No means no,' right? I'm done. I'm not doing that again. So, I guess we're friends now. She really likes me as a friend, she says, so I'll be her friend and be grateful I get to spend time with her at all. And I'm doing my best to be ok with that. So I finally asked Sylvia out, and it was nice. She's beautiful and interesting, and maybe it coulda gone somewhere… but then you had to go and tell Rory about it. And she got weird, man. She called me up, and she was comparing me to Mr. Darcy, and-"

"Am I supposed to know who the hell that is?"

"Are you serious? You've lived with Lorelai for, what, ten years now, and she hasn't tied you down and made you watch all six f***ing hours of that BBC monstrosity? Pride and Prejudice? Jane Austen? Lorelai going on and on about Colin Firth emerging from a lake in a wet shirt and breeches? Ring any bells?"

"Ah, maybe. I think I fell asleep about five minutes in."

"Of course you did. Well, all you need to know is that he's the romantic hero of the story, but he's a complete ass for like, two thirds of the book, which is obviously where the resemblance lies. So she's on a roll with that, and hey, I deserve it, but then she throws in the fact that he changes and fixes everything and the heroine can't help falling in love with him in the end. And what the hell am I supposed to do with that? Because last I knew, we were talking about me, and that would imply that… I don't know. All I know is that she got all flustered and started grilling me about my date with Sylvia, that you told her about, thanks so much, and then she starts going on about how she hopes I'll be very happy and how I deserve to be happy and I deserve to be with 'someone who has her life together.' And then she started crying and frickin' hung up on me!"

"Huh."

"Yeah! So, that whole thing kinda threw me, and all of a sudden, I'm not so sure where I stand anymore. I mean, am I crazy? Is that a normal reaction to hearing that a friend is seeing someone?"

"I don't know, Jess. It's weird, I'll give you that… but who knows, with pregnant women…"

"Well, yeah, there's that, too… But I went out with Sylvia again, because I was trying, you know? I owed it to myself and to her to give it an honest shot, but… I couldn't… I couldn't stop thinking about that phone call, Luke. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Because what if this was finally, finally a chance after all these years, and could I really just let that slip away? Could I start a relationship with someone else, knowing that I might be throwing away a shot with Rory? And I've been saying that there wasn't any chemistry with Sylvia and me, but the truth is, I know that's all on me. It was awkward because of me, because I was distracted and I was distant and I wasn't sure I wanted to be there. And Sylvia deserves better than that. It was better to end it before anybody got hurt."

"Ah, jeez, Jess."

"It's true. I'll go ahead and say it: I sabotaged my own attempt at having a happy relationship because I'm still hung up on my highschool girlfriend. And there it is. I'm such a pathetic loser."

"You're not a loser, Jess. You've come a long way. But she's got a baby now."

"I know that. And even if she has changed her mind about me, the timing is so bad... She needs me to be a friend she can depend on right now. The last thing she needs is the stress of fending off yet more unwanted advances from her crazy ex-boyfriend who can't take no for an answer. And I can't go there again, I just can't. So, I'm stuck in this no-man's-land."

"So how is all this stopping you from going to Argentina? Maybe a few months away from all this would be good for you."

"Maybe… maybe. But I just… I broke her trust before by leaving. I made a lot of mistakes, but that? That was the one she couldn't forgive me for. And I want to be there for her, I want her to know that she can count on me now, that if she needs me, I am there. But I can't do that if I'm halfway across the world. I'd be of no more use to her than Logan is, and I… God help me, I want her to think of me as someone who can give her something that he can't. And if I go, I can't do that. And I have this feeling that if I go now, that'll be it for her. The end. Three strikes, I'm out. For good this time."

"Were you planning on leaving without telling her?"

"Well, no, of course I wasn't..."

"'Cause I think that was a big part of the problem last time…"

"Yeah. I get that. But what if she doesn't see it that way?"

"Jess, all I can say is maybe you should talk to Rory about it. See how she feels about it."

"I guess I'll have to."

"For my part, I think you should go. And she won't be alone, Jess. She's got Lorelai, and me, and Lane..."

"You're right. Who'm I kidding? She doesn't need me anyway."

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Yeah, well, it's probably true anyway. But it's good to know that she's got you looking out for her. I'd need you to promise me that, if I'm gonna even consider this."

"You got it."

"Well… thanks for listening. I guess I'd better go. I'm gonna call Rory, like you said."

"I think that'd be a good idea."

"Yeah. Well, talk to you later, Uncle Luke."

"Later, kid. You… you take care of yourself, alright?"

"I always do. But thanks."

Thank you for reading. Please, PLEASE share any comments or ask any questions you’re wondering about! I crave your opinion. What do you think of this? My muse is in desperate need of encouragement so I can finish writing Chapter 9 sooner rather than later!

#Gilmore Girls #Fanfiction #Literati #seriously please talk to me #The Long and Winding Road #this is an exclusive!#It won't be in the next chapter #and I haven't posted this anywhere else!#@tinygothgoblindaydreaming #@lily-of-the-vallies #@blueforest7

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itskateak · 4 years

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Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses - Chapter Four

(Bucky Barnes X Single Dad!Reader)

Series Summary: Y/N L/N works as an intel specialist at the Avenger’s Compound. He scans chatter on the international - and intergalactic - level for any information that might be helpful to the Avengers and other agents. But he’s also a single father to a beautiful eight-year-old girl: Angelica L/N. It’s tough raising a little girl on his own and working a full-time job, but he’s managing. A promotion has him launched up in rank at the Compound, leading him to work directly with the Avengers team. The only problem is it’s a 24/7 job. Life around the compound gets a little strange when his daughter is added to the mix of enhanced humans and ex-assassins.

Chapter Summary: Rumors had always surrounded Bucky Barnes. A very early morning has Y/N thinking that every single one of them are wrong.

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: Meet-cute, fluff, unwanted romantic advances (again), minor language, Bucky being a little self-loathing

A/N: I wish y'all could've seen what happened in the middle of revising this - we got a 5.1 earthquake out of nowhere that jolted the house pretty good and in my rush to pick up my glass (and not move from the couch because screw that, I'm lazy and mother nature would have to throw me off the couch herself like that guy in the bathtub on Nov. 30th, 2018 - which, by the way, who is just soaking in the bathtub at 8:30 AM???), I slapped the keyboard. Oops. And then we got two more in the next two minutes.

Masterlist

Taglist is open! Drop a note in my messages, inbox, or leave a comment to be added!

If I can’t tag you, I will personally message you when a new chapter comes out so you don’t miss it!

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Y/N sank into his desk chair, sleep hanging at the corner of his eyes. He almost had hit his alarm and gone back to bed, but since Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes were returning from a mission, he forced himself out of bed. They'd have information for him to add to the system that could be urgent. So, here he was, half-awake and booting up his computer.

He hadn't even had his caffeine this morning so his personality had yet to catch up. He was just a walking, mumbling shell of Y/N until his brain woke up entirely. That could take ten minutes, or it could take two hours.

A knock on the door made him look up and blink to see who was in his doorway. The hall outside was still dark and his office wasn't very bright either so it was a little difficult to see.

Steve smiled in greeting and leaned against the doorframe. He was still in his tactical gear, a bloody scratch on his cheek proving that he'd come straight from the helicarrier. "Hey, Y/N. You're up bright and early."

"Well, you two decided to come back before even the roosters are awake, so...here I am. Just in case you guys had sensitive intel for me." Y/N tiredly smiled in return.

"Ah. Buck's the one who gathered most of the intel. He wanted to shower first since he was, in his words, sweatier than a sinner in a church and smellier than a nightclub on Wednesdays." Steve shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder if he's okay when he says stuff like that."

"A...nightclub on...Wednesdays?" Y/N asked, head tilted curiously.

"Apparently, Wednesdays were some of the busiest nights back in the day at the clubs he used to go to. Packed with people. We didn't really use deodorant in that time...so, it smelled pretty bad after a while." Steve explained. "Anyway, I came by to ask you a very important question."

"What's up?"

"What is your favorite caffeinated drink?"

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Y/N didn't realize he had fallen asleep on his desk until someone had carefully placed a cup next to him. He turned his head as he woke up, leaning his cheek against his arm. He blinked awake, noticing the mug.

"Bless you, you beautiful, beautiful person." He mumbled sleepily, straightening up and taking the warm drink gratefully.

"An apology for making you get up really early and somethin' to get you movin'." The person said with a soft voice. "Steve told me that was your favorite."

Y/N looked up at them and paused. He was tall - but that may have been the vantage point - and had wide shoulders. His eyes were a glittering blue and filled with friendliness. He gave a lopsided smile.

"I'm Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but everyone just calls me Bucky."

"Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you. And thanks for the drink." Y/N extended his hand to greet Bucky. "So, what do you have for me?"

Bucky set a small stack of old files on the corner of the desk before sitting down on the couch pressed against the wall meant for visitors. He laid his ankle on his knee, leaning back and lounging against the couch. He hitched his chin towards the dusty files.

"Grabbed them from the Hydra base we raided. Not sure what all is in there but it seemed pretty important given how it was locked in a safe within a safe, behind a vaulted door and guarded by people armed to the teeth." Bucky explained then sighed deeply, his head falling back against the top of the seat. He stared at the ceiling, shaking his head slightly.

"Sounds crazy. You okay?" Y/N swiveled in his chair to face Bucky, tilting his head slightly. He warmed his hands with the drink he'd been brought, taking slow sips periodically to avoid burning his tongue.

"Yeah, just tired and glad to be back." Bucky picked his head back up and brushed his hair back out of his face. It was obvious he had just gotten out of the shower not too long ago, his hair still damp and starting to curl up.

"Did you get hurt?" Y/N asked, concerned. From the looks of Steve, the mission had been rough on them. They'd been gone for almost two weeks.

"Nothin' major. Few scratches and bruises. Maybe a pinched nerve or muscle in my knee, but Bruce isn't awake yet to get it checked out." Bucky gestured with his head to his left knee before shrugging. "How're you settling in? I heard about Stark's smooth promotion offer."

"Oh, yeah...that scared the shit out of me. Everything's working out well. A little strange being my own boss, really, but it feels great. I know Angelica's having a blast with the fact there's a pool downstairs and she's surrounded by some pretty cool people." Y/N shook his head fondly. "New office, new room, new environment. It's different...but good."

"That's how I felt when I first moved here. Though, everyone wasn't as welcoming...and they had every right not to trust me." Bucky looked at the floor, expression faltering. "I'm...not the easiest to get along with somedays."

"I think we're getting along just fine." Y/N gave him a friendly smile. "I might be biased since you brought me my favorite drink."

Bucky laughed then, a warm sound that filled the space, and the corners of his eyes crinkled up. "So you figured out my plan. Bribe you into likin' me."

"Don't think you have to bribe me very much." Y/N broke into laughter, too, happy to see a smile back on Bucky's face. "You should get some food and get some rest if you can."

"I won't be able to sleep until later. Too wired still and probably will be for most of the morning."

"Maybe Wanda will make some tea for you." Y/N set his cup down. "My daughter doesn't know that you two were coming back this morning. She can be very hyperactive and excited when meeting new people. I didn't want you to come back from a mission and possibly be in a bad state of mind only to be met with a kid who wants to ask you rapid-fire questions for an hour."

"I appreciate that. I won't be against meeting her this afternoon. It's a Monday, right?" Bucky glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost five in the morning. "Yeah. Sometime this afternoon, if you want me to swing by and meet her, just let me know."

"Of course. Thanks, again, for the drink. I'll get to these files soon." Y/N smiled, waving his hand vaguely at the stack of files.

"No problem. I'll get out of your way and leave you to it. Nice to meet you, Y/N. Happy to have you on the team." Bucky stood raised his arms above his head in a stretch. "Oh, and if you need translating or cracking the codes, let me know and I'll help with what I can. See you around, Y/N."

"See you, Bucky." Y/N watched him walk past the glass front of his office and down the hall. All the rumors he'd heard about Bucky being gruff and cold to everyone he meets seemed to be untrue. He already liked the ex-assassin, despite only knowing him for ten minutes total. His rough exterior was offset by his kindness and concern for others.

Y/N pulled the top file and opened it. He sighed. It was all in Russian. Luckily, he could scan the documents into the computer and a program would translate them all out. The only thing he'd need to do afterward would be to create a decoder for the system Hydra used. He shook his mouse to wake his computer.

This was similar tedious work to what he'd used to do, but at least he could wear what he wanted and play music out loud without disturbing anyone. And his daughter could come in and out whenever she wanted when she was tearing around like the little gremlin she was.

With a wayward glance at the clock, he stood and started scanning the documents.

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Angelica came running into Y/N's office after school had gotten out, her backpack thrown on the floor near the couch. She flopped onto it on her back, limbs sprawled out, groaning loudly.

"Well, hello to you, too." Y/N said, glancing up from his computer to look at his daughter. "How was school?"

"Boring. Like usual." She whined, throwing her arms out but nearly falling off the couch in the process. She squealed and steadied herself. "I wish we did harder math things or read more interesting things."

"Can't be as boring as what I've been doing." Y/N teased, scrolling through the newly translated documents. He was still scanning the files that Bucky had brought that morning and he had yet to start cracking the codes that HYDRA used. "I have at least thirty-eight papercuts on my hands now."

"Whatcha looking at?" Angelica rolled off the couch and moved to see his computer screens. He switched tabs quickly to a google home page. "Papaaa."

"It could be sensitive content, Angel. Can't show you that. And I have no idea what kind of content is in there. Some of it might not be suitable for you." Y/N picked her up and settled her on his lap, an arm around her waist. She leaned back against him, leaning her head against his. "I could take a break and we can watch some YouTube."

"Ooh! Can we watch some dog videos?" She asked, excited.

"Whatever you want, kiddo." He leaned forward and brought up YouTube, typing in a search for funny dog videos. "We can have a fifteen-minute break before I should get back to work and you should start on homework."

"Don't ruin this for me." Angelica groaned, lighting kicking his shin. "Ooh! The first one looks adorable. Look at his little paws!"

Y/N grinned and clicked on the video, turning up the volume. Her giggles and laughter always brightened his day. He watched a puppy stumble and tip a water dish over. Everyone needed a puppy break in the middle of the day and it was definitely needed after the very early morning.

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"Oh, wow. This is fancy. You sure moved up in the world." Kiera's voice startled Y/N and he looked up from his notes.

"Oh, hi! Come in, Kiera." Y/N minimized the tabs on his screens and closed his notebook. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I have a few files from our department that are directly related to a mission that's coming up that they want you to look at." She said, holding up two folders.

"I've not been told of any mission but let me see what's up." He held his hand out and she crossed his office to pass the files over. He opened the top one and scanned over the words. "I'll have to talk to Tony or Steve to see what this is about, but this seems pretty important."

"The boss man wanted me to run it up here as soon as it was compiled. Are you sure you don't know what it's about?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"They might've told me and I just forgot. It's been a crazy few days with Natasha and Sam prepping to leave for a mission tonight and the intel I had to send to the Guardians." Y/N set the files down on his desk.

"So, how's it feel to be in the elite club?" Kiera sat down on the couch, crossing her legs. She was wearing a pencil skirt and heels, which he didn't actually pay attention to after doing a quick scan over her.

"I had to get up at like...three-thirty this morning because Rogers and Barnes decided to return from a mission with sensitive files at four." Y/N buzzed his lips, leaning back in his chair. "Rogers stopped by first to say hi and tell me Barnes had all the files."

"Sergeant Barnes makes me...uncomfortable sometimes. He's really quiet in meetings and always looks like he's angry or doesn't want to be there." Kiera pursed her lips. "And whenever he talks, he's really short and gruff. He just seems really cold and unapproachable. Did you have to deal with him alone?"

"He brought me my favorite drink, apologized for making me get up so early, and asked how I was settling in. He was nice and offered to help decode the files he'd brought." He shrugged, thinking back on their conversation that morning. "He was really friendly and open. I think he just isn't comfortable around strangers or large groups of people."

"Y/N, I'm worried about you and Angelica. What if he tries to hurt either of you? I know they say he's stable but is he really? What if he just snaps one day and turns back into the Winter Soldier?" Kiera stood and crossed to him, sitting on the edge of his desk.

Y/N arched a brow slightly as she laid a hand on his shoulder, her thumb rubbing in a circle over the fabric of his shirt. "Kiera, why are you even bringing this up? If there was even the possibility of him being a threat to anyone, especially Angelica, they wouldn't have let us move in here or he would still be in Wakanda."

"All I'm saying is that you should be careful, okay? I don't think you should get too close to him. I don't want to see you get hurt and I really don't want to see Angelica get hurt." Kiera said. She didn't even know Bucky other than what she's heard through rumors or the news, so why was she pushing this so much? In his eight-minute conversation with Bucky that morning, he'd already dismissed all the rumors and other experiences people had told him about because of how open and friendly he'd been.

"Kiera," He started, voice low and stern. "If I had any concerns about Bucky, I would speak to him directly about it. Talking about him behind his back and perpetuating rumors only hurts his reputation and the way people view him. He knows people don't trust him and feels that it's rightfully deserved."

"Just...be careful, okay? That's all I'm asking. I just fear for Angelica." Kiera said quietly.

"Oh, uh...I'll just...come back in a few minutes." A voice made them both turn and Y/N shrugged Kiera's hand off his shoulder. Bucky was standing awkwardly in the doorway, a hand raised to knock on the door.

"No, come on in, Bucky." Y/N flashed him a warm smile and gave a side-eyed glance at the woman still hovering near him. "Kiera was just leaving." He said through his teeth.

"The boss will want me back in my little cubicle." She stood and walked past Bucky without sparing a glance at him and paused in the doorway. "I'll see you Wednesday night." She winked and smiled before sauntering down the hall.

"Did I interrupt something?" Bucky avoided eye contact, looking at the pictures on the wall instead as he moved further into the office. He looked awkward, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Y/N wondered if he overheard their conversation.

"She was just bringing files relating to a mission coming up that I may or may not have been told about." Y/N turned back to his computer, opening his tabs and notebook again. Bucky could see the intel and he didn't have to worry about the confidential issue.

"Seemed a little more friendly than that." Bucky snorted, sitting down on the couch, and immediately sinking into it. He was relaxing with every passing second. "Wednesday, huh?"

"I have absolutely no idea what she was talking about. The only plan I have Wednesday night is to go to the library after getting ice cream at Pop's Shoppe with Angelica like we do every Wednesday night." Y/N said, looking at him with an open expression of honesty.

"Sounded like a date to me." Bucky threw an arm over the back of the couch, his ankle resting on his knee. "Nothin' wrong with that if it was."

"She's just a friend." Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I should clear that up with her in case she got the wrong impression."

"I don't think you called me down here to talk about your workplace drama, though." Bucky gave him a lopsided smile, head tilted slightly. Any awkwardness or discomfort was gone. "What's up?"

"Need your help deciphering the codes. I've identified four different codes they use but I can't figure out what they mean." Y/N pressed his lips together in frustration. "I've written each of them down."

"Got a pen?" Bucky sat up, hand extended.

"Yeah. Here's the notebook, too." Y/N passed them to him, noticing that he didn't hesitate with reaching out with his metal arm. Not that he minded the metal prosthetic in the first place. "While you work on that, I can look over the files Kiera brought."

"She seems nice. Seen her in a couple of briefings. Knows what she's talking about and is really good at her job." Bucky said, eyes scanning the notebook as he wrote. "Not a bad choice, honestly."

"She is nice, but not my type." Y/N responded, opening one of the new files, ignoring the flush rising on his face. He was so embarrassed for absolutely no reason.

"Don't think she knows that." Bucky snorted before muttering something in Russian under his breath. He glanced up for a moment. "Maybe you should make it clear to her."

"Last week I used going to Operations Control - even though I was actually going to Accounting - as an excuse to leave just to stop her from asking me to dinner because I didn't want to turn her down." He admitted, keeping his gaze on the papers as his face warming up even more.

"Just let her down easy. Tell her you think she's nice but you aren't interested in a romantic relationship with her." Bucky suggested with a shrug.

A comfortable silence settled between them as they both worked on their respective tasks. Occasionally, there was a soft whirring of the computers as the fans turned on to cool them down or of Bucky's arm as he moved. It was because of this that they both heard the footsteps rushing toward the office.

"Papa, I finished my homework! Can you check my multiplication worksheet?" Angelica came dashing in, holding a folder to her chest, and smiling broadly.

"Inside voice, kiddo. Inside voice." Y/N looked up with a gently chastizing expression. "But, yes. I can check your math."

Angelica stopped with wide-eyes, actually noticing the man on the couch for the first time since she'd sprinted in. There went the plan of setting up a meeting time for Bucky and the ball of energy.

Bucky glanced up and gave her a quick smile that reminded Y/N of the one he gave to people when they held doors open for him. It was full of awkward friendliness and Y/N had sympathy for him.

"You're James Buchanan Barnes." She said in amazement, smiling broadly in return. She bounced on the balls of her feet, barely containing her enthusiasm.

"Uh, yep. That's my name, but you really don't need to call me James or Barnes or whatever. Just Bucky works." He tucked a strand of hair that had fallen into his vision behind his ear. "And you're..?"

"Angelica. Kiddo, you can barrage Bucky with questions here in a second but I need your math homework if you want me to check it." Y/N chuckled. His daughter snapped out of her daze and rushed to hand her folder to him. She then skipped over to the couch and flopped down next to him.

"Whatcha working on?" She asked in her adorable way, her head tilted.

"Code cracking for your dad." Bucky hummed, shifting so he wasn't so closed off.

"Is it fun?"

"Sort of. I'm tired so I'm not exactly at a functioning level." He bounced his foot slightly. "I think you're the only person I've met who has been starstruck and knew my actual name."

"I did a project last month about you for history. That lesson was the only one that was not boring." Angelica swung her legs. "I think you're pretty cool."

"Oh," Bucky said, looking at the notebook. "Uh, thanks."

Y/N glanced up from the multiplication problems to see a blush spreading across the badass Winter Soldier's face. He smiled secretly and returned to the multiplication, scanning just to be sure his math whiz of a kid hadn't missed anything in her speed demon functions.

"Everyone else wanted to do projects on Natasha or Steve or Wanda and no one wanted to do a project on you. Made me mad 'cause they had all these ideas about you that were, like, not at all true but they didn't know that 'cause they jus' listened to their parents and didn't take ten minutes to think for themselfs." Angelica glared at the floor in her very childlike stern manner. "There's a reason you're a hero but they wouldn't know that 'cause all they'd heard was that you were a bad guy. So someone had to tell them otherwise."

"Alright, kiddo. This all looks correct. Good job." Y/N tucked the papers back into her folder and set his pen aside. She hopped off the couch and took her folder back with a smile. "Bucky and I need to get back to work, so you'll have to scram, okay?"

"Wanda said she'd teach me how to make some food from her homeland when I was done with my homework," Angelica told him.

"You remember the rules?"

"Yep!"

"Then scram. Have fun." Y/N gently shoved her shoulder and she giggled.

"Bye, Bucky! See you later!" Angelica said, pausing at the door to give him a wave.

"See ya around, sweetie." He waved back with a friendly smile before she took off running down the hall again. "She is quite the ball of energy."

"You have no idea." Y/N laughed, picking the file back up. "She didn't make you uncomfortable or anything, right? She tends to get loud and talkative when she's super excited."

"No, no. It was cute. I've...never really had someone act like that the first time I've met them. Usually, they're all wary and distrustful like I'm some feral dog that has to be danced around." Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. His lips were pressed into a firm line and he glared at the notebook.

"You know, when she did that project on you, she wouldn't stop talking about you for weeks. I've seen her get passionate about things before, but for some reason, she was extra determined to prove to everyone that you're a good guy now." Y/N smiled fondly. "She likes seeing the good in people. Always have, and probably always will."

"I think she takes after you on that one," Bucky mumbled under his breath. "This should let you decode the information. They mixed codes a lot just to be extra sure no one could sell the intel."

Y/N took his notebook and pen back with a nod. "Thanks. This will help a ton."

Bucky stood, wincing slightly as his knee popped. "I'll leave you to it, then."

"Oh, I have a deal proposition before you go." Y/N stopped him with a smirk.

"I'm listening." Bucky arched a brow.

"You bring my drink every morning and every time Angelica plans a prank on you or a prank that could affect you, I'll let you know. If she asks, just say it's a super-soldier superpower or something." Y/N offered with a mischievous grin. "We have a deal?"

"We have a deal." Bucky shook his hand.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Taglist - @supernaturalwintersoldier @shadowolf993 @myybebe @pastel-boy-sungjae

#mint ice cream & bubblegum kisses #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x single dad!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #tw earthquake #i talk about it in the note at the beginning

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shintorikhazumi · 4 years

Text

Honey

A/N: Clearly, based on Kehlani’s song. Also, One, I did not try to learn the song on guitar just for this fic… Two, this may or may not be an advertisement to the Pole Dancing! AU I’m planning once I’ve completed A Warm Diana. That pole dancing au is completely separate from that one-shot I released, “Dance For Me.”, though it’s possible that a chapter may be named as such. Been a while since I did a songfic so… woot. The events here probably won’t happen in the final AU tho, but the world details are shared~. Not as much pole dancing as the last, sorry

Dedicated to @kagarikhylev, thank you! I said last, last weekend but I got swamped by college starting up again, all the LWA reposts to ao3 since I’m behind, and just generally… being distracted by a lot of things, so deepest apologies.

This fic may or may not be good. I am screwed because I have a 7am quiz and it’s 9:48pm, and I did not study a thing. Priorities, amiright? My concentration is busted.

Also. Diana is an idiot.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Honey

“I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet

A little selfish…”

She walks through the halls, following the echoing of unfamiliar lyrics against the empty corridor. The clock ticks just that bit closer to five in the afternoon, and the east wing is relatively empty, save for the presence of a voice carrying that pleasant tune, and words that pique her interest. At the moment, she should be on her usual search for her friend who has been avoiding her like a pandemic these past few days, but her body is keen on taking a detour, her ears the leader that guides her whole way. Eventually, she finds herself standing in front of the sliding door to one of the dance course’s practice rooms. She expects that to be here, seeing as the music programs featuring vocal and instrumental courses held their classes on the opposite side of the large building, according to the map posted down the hall.

What she isn’t expecting is the singing present in the air. Because why would singing come from here? From a dance major?

While singing might not be solely reserved for the ones actually studying it, it is a rarity for occasions such as this to happen in a school that had students ready to ridicule anyone not up to par with their personal standard of skill. This holds especially true for those majoring in classical music as they often have their heads lifted high, considering their genre to be ‘superior’ to the rest.

So, she understands why theater children stick to theater, why dance majors stick to moving their bodies to the beat, and why people aiming to get into Philharmonic- much like her- only stick to performing and doing what they do best, in-and-out of class hours.

Here, in this institution, resides a slightly toxic, competitive atmosphere that forces you to give your all for your craft, and not insult others by dabbling in their own specialties half-heartedly. There is no encouragement, there is no beautiful rivalry.

Or at least, that’s what she’s known since entering both vocal and instrumental programs. As a flutist, in particular, there remains quite a bit of competition for seats in their prestigious school’s main touring orchestra, so auditions that may as well be full-blown battles were common. The dance majors always look so friendly from afar, though; maybe they are different.

And maybe that’s why they remain the school’s outcasts.

Breathing out her thoughts into a puff of air to clear her mind, she peeks through the small window of the room’s door. Her eyes widen in surprise, but pink lips tip into a fond smile as she spots a familiar tuft of brunette hair in that signature hairstyle she knew all too well. The one she’s been looking for.

‘What a treat.’

She leans heavier on the glass, pressing her ear against the door, believing it might allow her to hear this secret serenade better.

“I like my women like I like my money, green

A little jealous-“

In the light of the late afternoon sun, the singer is enchanting, magical. Reflected through ocean blues, she always has been. Ever since they first met. But something’s changed. There is a different kind of blossoming taking place in the musician’s heart. She doesn’t understand it. But she wants to. However, she wants to understand it with that particular girl- singing with abandon on the floor, antique guitar in her lap- by her side, but being avoided doesn’t make her need any easier to satisfy.

She doesn’t understand it at all. Why she can’t solve it on her own. She doesn’t understand why she’d being avoided either.

Hums ease the creases that have subconsciously formed on her forehead, the gentle voice tickling her ears pleasantly. It eases a weight off her soul, and she relishes in the ambience of the present hour.

She would have loved to listen for much longer had she not accidentally placed her full weight on the door at the wrong angle, sliding it open with a very audible screech. And the next thing she knows, she’s falling forward, and the floor comes up, about to give her a kiss she won’t forget, and it’s not the one she would have preferred.

But no, that should not happen. If her moniker of ‘Miss Perfect’ was anything to go by, she is sure she can do anything. Including catching herself against the now stuck door, leaving her bent in an awkward posture, face hovering inches off the floor. The sudden chain of actions has her heart jump up to her throat, all the calm air in her lungs stolen by shock. She remains in an awkward position for a while longer, gathering her bearings, and thankful she didn’t injure herself with what had just occurred. The room’s occupant is just as surprised as she is, apparently.

Shaking away her initial wide-eyed expression and donning an appreciative smile, she poses a casual statement, trying to brush off the awkward situation as she stands up to her full height, brushing imaginary dust off her jacket at the same time.

“I didn’t know you could play the guitar.”

There’s a curious pause, wine-red eyes stunned at the brash intrusion to her solo afternoon world. The perpetrator feels her toes clench in nerves, hidden behind closed shoes. She’s hoping her companion wouldn’t just… stare. She’s certain those eyes have a million questions running amok in her pretty little head, but she is beginning to feel the heat rising its steady course up her face, and is unsure she could handle this atmospheric pressure any longer.

By some deity’s saving grace, there’s a blink to reboot the mind of those same questioning eyes, the room’s initial occupant finally managing a response. “It’s a little hobby… I almost didn’t hear you come in.” Stood by the door, the newcomer wonders if that was meant to be a joking or a literal statement.

“And you never said you could sing.”

“I don’t.” The guitar is kept to the side, in a place hidden from the immediate view of anyone casually visiting the room. “I dance, is what I do.”

“I know.” The flutist replies as casually as she strives to look in these strange moments; she hopes to keep the conversation flowing, to keep the person in front of her from leaving her side again. “I watch you.”

“Of course, you do.”

//-//-//-//-//

She wonders what the song is all week. It replays over and over in her head in class. It haunts her dreams at night, and plagues her in the waking hours. She even unconsciously hums it while doing her homework in the library. This leaves her friend, Hannah, wide-eyed.

And she appears to be wide-eyed as well.

“Diana!” Is the harsh whisper in her ear. She doesn’t like the feeling of hot air there, but her astonishment at the fact that this song has now consumed her renders her the tiniest bit numb.

“What.” Diana replies just as quiet, but softer in delivery.

“Why are you singing that?” The brunette queries, voice no longer a whisper, and away from Diana’s ear, but low enough to not be overheard by anyone else in the vicinity. She doesn’t look mad, nor is she upset. Diana takes note of this. She’s merely… very, very befuddled.

“Is something the matter? I think I like the tune.”

“…”

“Hannah?”

“Do you really not know what that song is about?” Is the bewildered reply. “I mean… I know you aren’t that straight, m’lady…or at all…” The last part, she whispers under her breath. “but… like… I didn’t think you would expose yourself like this?”

With the faintest flush on her cheeks, Diana responds in confusion. “What are you saying? Am I not supposed to like this song?”

The shorter girl is taken aback slightly. “N-no, you can like… it. Just… your voice professor would have a heart attack if she hears you sing that and knows the song, so let’s not. Okay? Not in public, at least. Especially with your status.” She huffs, then whips her head back up, recalling something. “Don’t play it on you flute either. I see Barbara wasn’t lying when she freaked out earlier at lunch telling me about this.”

“I still fail to understand the problem?” Diana states, impatient as her foot taps on the wooden floorboards.

“Of course. Because you’re dense.” Is the offensive reply she gets. Before she can retort, or pose further question, Hannah takes her by the hand, clearing up all their stuff single-handedly with the other, showcasing surprising efficiency; and she drags her friend right out of the area.

As they turn into a relatively empty hall, the heiress’ hand is released, and she walks side-by-side with her friend who releases a snort that is succeeded by a fit of giggles that are quickly replaced with bouts of laughter. The brunette bends over, hitting her knees, tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Diana, you utter idiot.”

“Wha-“

All too quickly, the laughs dissipate and a serious Hannah slaps her hand on Diana’s shoulders in a firm grip.

“I would have hoped you’d look up the lyrics if you recalled them, but then again, you’re hopeless with technology. Or if you only heard the tune… well, I guess that’s understandable too.” The brunette patted her cheek fondly.

“It’s called Honey.” And Hannah finally tells her the title she’s been seeking; feeling grateful she hugs her friend.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Will I die tomorrow?”

“You overreact.” Diana rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“Don’t listen to it too much that you become addicted. Don’t want to catch you at the head of even more rumors than you already are.” Her shorter friend teases, picking up the materials she dropped earlier as she made a grab at Diana. “I’m serious.”

“Do you doubt my self-control?”

“After meeting her, what I do doubt is if you have much left.”

Diana splutters, chasing after the fleeing imp sticking her tongue out at her.

She’ll get back at her.

Hannah is rarely right over her, after all.

//-//-//-//-//

Hannah is right, after all.

Immediately after reaching her room, Diana had looked it up; her barely cooperating fingers carefully typing in five simple letters… that soon became nine with a space between the previous ones and new ones as she clearly knows that she’s not looking to view videos of bees and liquid gold in glass jars.

And after the first click, she’s defeated. She listens to it over and over.

And over.

And over again.

//-//-//-//-//

[“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”]

The video plays on her phone for the thirtieth time that day. Considering that it is barely noon, with classes in between this time and the moment she woke up, that’s probably a lot of repeats. It isn’t unhealthy yet. Right?

And she likes the song. It plays well in the background as she does her homework. She’s too distracted for the lyrics to register properly in her mind anyway.

So a woman was singing about her companion who she seemed to be very loyal to. Just as Diana was to her new best friend. The singer also appeared to be bragging about their charm… and their preferences on women’s attitudes? Or visuals? Did this person like green-skinned ladies?? Who happened to be jealous and tasted sweet? Diana always thought the skin had a more… salty flavor to it.

Maybe she should ask what her new friend, Akko, thinks about this. She has been slowly sharing bits and pieces of her world to the unknowing prodigy, and she always likes hearing the brunette’s opinion on various subjects. Akko’s opinion.

Ah, yes. Akko. Right.

And Diana goes back to that afternoon with Akko and the guitar. The catalyst for this strange addiction to Honey. Not the food, she added to herself. The song.

The song, yes, now entering the thirty-first cycle. As the words came to play with the dancing melodies, Diana muses that the lyrics certainly suit the girl who had introduced this wonderful song to her.

[“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”]

And she reaches this part once more, still thinking of the one named Kagari Atsuko. The dance major, and her newest best friend. Friend. Yes, that’s what her other friends had said. She's been spending far too much time; sparing too much attention on her… friend, so they were a little lonely.

She digresses.

Anyway. Akko. Yes. She may not be much of a wreck– scratch that, maybe she was. Diana chuckles. Nevertheless, as the lyrics preach over and over, she was a beautiful one. Incredibly so.

She is all the vivid colors of the world, incredibly funny. Diana is not one for comedy, but Akko pulls laughs out of her with fabulous ease.

She closes her eyes, seeing that loveable face blinding her with the brightness of the sun, encompassing her with its warmth, and inspiring her each day. What an amazing friend.

As blues are revealed to the world behind the fluttering of thick lashes, she takes in the vast rehearsal room designed for the practices and assessments of the dance majors for ballroom. It houses a piano and a few of the larger percussion instruments for the live accompaniment of collaborating music majors. It also serves as the general area of practice for when the school would prepare for their showcases and events. Or well, this room used to be all of that. Now, it simply remains as a spare practice and storage room.

After the students had fallen into an unfixable dispute due to their hardheadedness towards their differences, collaborations seldom happen. When they do occur, they are looked down upon by the rest of the body. It was a shameful ordeal, supposedly.

It is a shame, Diana agrees. That they would sacrifice the beauty of performance for pride.

Only the people who come to utilize all this free space clean it before and after using. That is rare as well. Anyone who reserves this room becomes the target of rumors to want to unify a broken crowd.

And nobody wants that. That’s what the populace says.

The poor unused floorboards, the scarcely maintained instruments and tools… and here she sits at the aforementioned sad piano, lid sliding open, fingers splaying across ivory keys. She punches a note. And another, and the tune that has been imprisoned in her mind- or has it imprisoned her mind- is now escaping into the air, into the theme that fills her senses. She first tests it out with just the melody on one hand, but then her left comes to join in the only dance she really knows how to do.

This moment is hers alone. No one can come to break it.

Hannah can’t complain if she goes against her advice and performs the song for no one anyway.

A beautiful song for a beautiful no one.

She caresses it like a ballad, hands deftly sweeping over the keys, light and gentle.

Piano used to be her first love. Her mother loved it more. After she passed, Diana had lost many competitions, and she was forbidden from touching one ever again.

Only in secret could she stroke her lover’s keys, that beautiful ivory, that shimmering black. Only in secret could she kiss the melodies with all her affection, press down with the right pressure to allow the instrument to voice its beautiful moan of music.

Only in secret would could she play this song on repeat; only in secret could she play it herself; only in secret could she think on the lyrics well; only in secret would she link every syllable to one girl.

Only in secret could she wish she were here.

Only in secret could she realize and admit,

“I love you… Akko…”

A clanging sound, loud, metallic.

There’s a pole rolling on the floor, and the sound of shuffling, a figure scrambling to gather her belongings now scattered everywhere.

“…Akko.”

“Diana. Hi.” Rubies flit about, landing temporarily on anything not Diana. “You… were practicing… a thing?” Her voice is choked, its timbre pitched higher than the usual. “I guess I should leave you-“

“NO!” She doesn’t mean to yell, but her desperation has the better of her. She only has so little time to stop the girl from escaping her again. “S-stay. I… I mean… stay? Please stay? Please Stay.” She says the same words in different ways and tones, unsure. “Don’t… leave me.”

A nod is the only movement the frozen body can manage. There’s this stillness between them before Diana pushes out words from her frenzied mind.

“C-come here?” She pats the bench beside her awkwardly, not knowing if her invitation was a welcome one. She breathes a sigh of relief when Akko places her things to the side, neatly against the wall before walking up to her, standing by the bench, staring at the hand still covering the seat.

She hesitates.

“Sit?”

She does. She leaves a hand’s-width of space between them.

And it’s a painful silence.

One Diana tries to break.

“Hi.” She seeks her eyes.

“Hi.” They don’t seek hers. “What did you call me here for?” Akko asks nervously, feet shuffling against the floor.

Think fast, Diana. Anything to make her stay longer.

And it’s only honey on her mind once more. Her saving grace. “C-Could you sing that song for me once more?” Akko looks like she’s having difficulty recalling. “The one I walked in on...”

Akko bites her lip nervously as she contemplates that, and Dear mother of Cavendish Diana finds that so attractive.

“I don’t… think I know what you’re talking about.” The dancer plays dumb.

But Diana wants her plan of… whatever she’s trying to do… to work. So, her mind, as helpful as it is, hides the memory of the title she’s replayed over and over. She tries to tell her the song anyway. As best she can.

“It’s… it’s the one about loyal friendship.”

“F-friendship?” If Akko had been playing dumb earlier, she no longer was. She doesn’t recall singing a song about friendship…

“And the singer boasting of their charm… and their… preferences for women, I suppose? Or maybe it’s not friendship. Companionship? Partnership? The one where… something about jealousy and sweetness and colors, and flying- and dear Beatrix, I deeply apologize for my incompetence, Akko…” Diana covers her face in a shame that’s burning the blonde alive.

Silence.

“Pffft- what the hell Diana, ahahahaha.” Akko finally loosens all that tension she imposes on Diana, relenting. Diana was just too irresistible. Knocking lightly against the music major’s head, she makes known the song’s name once more. “It’s called Honey.”

She doesn’t understand this sudden change in mood, in mind, but Diana now has the opportunity to play it cool, her plan of keeping Akko there, having Akko want to stay there is working. So despite not understanding, she welcomes this in comparison with the cold she’s received as of late.

“O-Oh? I didn’t know that.” But of course, Diana does. Clearly.

“Well, you do suck at using your phone. And your laptop. And the internet.”

“Akko!”

And there’s that pretty pink flush on her face once more, annoying her.

“Fine.” Akko says.

“Huh?”

“I’ll sing it.”

“Y-you will?!” Diana finds herself standing excitedly, hands clutching Akko’s.

“Wow, you really must want to hear that song.”

“I… I’ve been a little curious…”

Akko smiles that gorgeous, honest smile. “I can see that.” She gets up as well, facing Diana, but then remembering something. “Ah! But… what time is it… I was supposed to be practicing for the show at the bar later, and I have class in-” The time read two pm, on the dot. “Shit, I only have an hour, and I have to leave for my job right after the lesson…”

That explains the pole she had with her.

It was no secret to Diana that Akko had gone to school here at Luna Nova against her parents wishes. Akko also worked a night job, pole dancing in secret. It was- is her passion. Not to entice people into desiring her body, by any means, but to tell a story of grace, honor, sensuality, and honesty through her dance.

And the medium Akko chooses is the pole.

“Oh, I know!” The brunette interrupts her reverie. “How ‘bout you play the song again, and I’ll practice to it. The music I was going to use has roughly the same tempo, I think.”

“…are you going to sing while dancing?” Diana speaks to the retreating back that moves to prepare her set-up, Akko loosening a secret portion of wood on the floor away to reveal a hole that would snuggly hold her practice pole in place.

“Eh, why not?” She shrugs, nonchalantly and Diana is amazed by her as always. “Two birds with one pole, or something.”

“Stone.”

“Same thing.”

Finishing her little stage, Akko smiles in triumph, chucking her jacket and jogging pants to the side without a care. Not even for Diana who pries her eyes away from toned muscle.

“Ready when you are.”

Diana isn’t, but she plays for Akko’s sake anyway. Her hands traverse the keys on instinct, eyes on the slender figure that begins its preliminary moves in grace and desire.

Red meets blue and the show starts.

“I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet~

A little selfish”

It’s a simple twirl about the pole, with a wink thrown in, but Diana thinks it’s the most spectacular motion already.

“I like my women like I like my money, green

A little jealous”

And there’s the pleasant laugh she adores.

“'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”

Akko sings in that strong voice, as she runs her hands through her hair, shaking the strands loose as she prances around the metal shaft before clutching onto it, allowing herself to fly through the air. By the next line, she’s sliding down painfully slow, body pressed against the reflective equipment in the room, eyes locked with Diana’s. A hand clutches the thin fabric barely covering her chest, the other reaching out to pull Diana in, only strong legs keeping her up.

“Oh, I'm a heartbreak vet

With a stone-cold neck, yeah, I'm charmin'”

‘You truly are…’ Diana says to herself, her heart starting to physically hurt with the desire to touch, and to hold in her arms. That smile shot at her was simply unfair.

“All the pretty girls in the world

But I'm in this space with you”

For a second, Diana feels as though Akko were speaking these words to her for real. That idea makes it that much tighter in her chest. There was no way. That Akko finds her appealing like that, that she would choose to stay with Diana here… Diana… hadn’t forced her to do this little thing they were having at the moment, right?

“Colored out the lines

I came to find, my fire was fate with you”

‘Fate…’ Her sight turns bleary, but she doesn’t understand why. Warmth traces after the wetness that rolls down one cheek. And that hand surprises her, cupping her cheek, prompting her to look up into emotional pools of red that are very, very close. Their proximity is far too close. “Wha-“ When had Akko…

“Heartache would stay with you

Fly great escapes with you, oh…”

-are the murmured lyrics, breaths ragged puffs of air brushing against her parted lips. A hand rested over her own that had now crumpled the cloth of her shirt over her chest, fist gripped tightly.

“You… stopped…hah… playing… Diana.” Akko gets out, breathing uneven the sudden change of her moving body to its stationary state.

Ah. She has. Her other hand is simply resting on the keys, motionless. She feels kind of bad now, to have cut Akko’s practice performance short; but she can’t even work a reply out. Her lips tremble, facial muscles feel wobbly.

“Hmm… that’s no good. I can’t complete your request without your help.” Akko muses, taking a deep breath of air as she pulls away from the shaken heiress. Index finger of her free hand tapping against her cheek, her eyes lit up in realization. “I know!”

“H-huh…?”

“Diana.” At the call of her name, she offers her attention. “Come dance with me.”

“W-wait, I can’t-“

But it’s too late for that, and she’s easily dragged by the overwhelming force of Akko’s strength built from the foundation of dancing and every other physical activity she must have done to mold her body into the shape that it is now. Striking, alluring, lean, and every bit the exquisite art that Diana sees it as.

And now said art presses against her back, pushing her against the cold metal Akko clings on to on a regular basis. Hands guide her own to grasp the bar, and soon they slowly spin. A soft voice hums into her ear, those sounds turning into the lyrics she’s far past memorizing now.

They are engraved in her very heart.

“I countdown to the clock, saw you awake

Don't walk away, or would you wait for me?”

How ironic that Akko should sing this for her. When Diana has been the one pleading for her to stay day by day- maybe not in words, but in her gestures, in her eyes, in her sighs. How hurtful she was being, when Diana has been the one seeking after her. When Diana is already the one waiting.

How cruel, Akko.

“I go out to the bar, fuck hangin' with the stars

Don't even have a car, but you would wait for me, mm-hmm”

A shiver crawls up her neck, tiny hairs upright as Akko’s lips vibrate against the skin there as she hums the end of the line. The touch is ghostly, barely there, but Diana knows. She knows.

It was painful.

So, so painful for Diana.

Akko feels that pain as it drips onto the arm she has wrapped around Diana’s waist, the girl curling into herself as she bites her lip to keep her sobs trapped within.

“I-I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what’s come over me, I should just!” She wants to escape. Just escape and run from the confusion that hangs in shadows over her clarity.

But Akko doesn’t let her.

Quickly, she’s in a tighter hold, a gentler hold; the scent of strawberries and sweat permeating the bubble of air they are locked in. Her eyes see black as a hand goes over to cover them; she feels Akko’s movements through the back of her shirt.

They make another twirl.

Everything in her heart stirs along with the motion; it aches.

“All, all, all…”

Diana waits for those familiar lyrics to go on, each word digging painfully into her, because, in the end, that’s all they are. Lyrics. Lyrics that make her realize just what it is that draws her like a moth to the everlasting brightness that is Kagari Atsuko.

What it is that keeps her listening, if only to fuel her imagination when all these lines point to the same girl, painting pictures in her dreams of them walking aimlessly on a street, Akko smiling at her, laughing with her. So beautifully.

“…all the pretty girls in the world…”

She braces herself for the same old lines, ones that mean nothing but the words to catchy music.

“But they don’t compare to you.”

And they don’t come. The change of words had her whip her head up, craning her neck to look behind her, puzzled; Akko had already hidden herself against Diana’s nape. Those… That’s… not… how she remembered the song…

“You’re the color of my life

I’d battle fate if it meant I’d stay with you”

“That’s…”

“My heart aches; it longs for you”

“That isn’t…”

…

“…I know I’m in love with you.”

And Akko releases her, stepping away from the pole, and from her. It’s all cold again, freezing the blood that pumps through her veins after the bombardment to her senses.

“I’m sorry.” There are tears in Akko’s eyes now. And she just stops singing altogether. “I’m sorry.” Her voice loses that melody, now replaced by sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s…”

“You must have realized, right? What I’m feeling.” She smiles grimly. “Ugly, dirty… wrong feelings… for someone like my best friend… and… I’m sorry I made you cry. You must have felt creeped out and harassed, huh? You must have been scared because I wouldn’t let you go…”

“That isn’t, that’s-“

“I’m sorry, forcing myself onto you after being so cold. I… I didn’t mean to avoid you, I just-“ She meets the confusion that clouds the sky in Diana’s eyes. “I didn’t want you to know if by chance you didn’t feel the same way.”

“That’s…”

“I… when I came into the room, I thought I’d heard wrong. What you said… the… c-confession…” Akko clenches her eyes shut, willing the tears away. “But then you said the song was about friends, so I probably have the wrong idea, and you might have just meant that you… l-love me as a friend.” She sniffles. “So, I’m sorry. I just…” I sob rips its way past the barriers of her lips, and more tears spill down apple-red cheeks. “I didn’t want you to find out like this… but I’ve… for so long…”

A beat passes, and Akko’s teary hiccups, and the pair’s mismatched breathing are the only sounds that remain in the room.

“You… You can reject me now, or something. Please don’t be this quiet, Diana.” Akko laughs bitterly, saltiness escaping sealed eyes. “I guess, I just couldn’t help it any more. Ran out of options, had nothing else I wanted to do here but tell you I love you.”

Another beat. There’s a breeze that rustles the leaves outside closed windows. Breaths calm, and the only noise that remains is the occasional sniff.

“Please just say something so I can leave.” Akko whispers, only for them to hear.

“That’s… that’s wrong.” Diana finally manages to complete her sentence.

“Loving you? Yeah. I know.”

“No.”

“Oh, leaving after telling you something so imposing like that-?”

“No, what’s wrong is… That… That’s not…”

“That’s not what, Diana?” Akko asks, a little high-strung from everything. “You’ve been repeating those words a while now.”

“That’s…”

“Hmm?”

“That’s not how the lyrics go…”

“…”

“…Diana, you dense little- mrrnngghhh!” Akko reaches forward, hands almost touching Diana’s cheeks before they pinch the air, shaking with whatever feeling fueled her strength to have her hands trembling like that. “I cannot believe you. I just… I just confessed to you, poured my heart and soul out, and all you remember, all you can say about that WHOLE thing, was that I got my lyrics wrong?!”

Akko fumes, red in the face with frustration, or sadness, or confusion, or maybe all of those combined.

“… yes?”

“Well, ain’t that great, then?” Akko sarcastically utters. “You seem relatively unaffected by all of this. Guess I should have only worried about unrequited feelings.” She begins trudging toward her water bottle by the window, donning her jacket after taking a few sips.

She is just about ready to leave.

“What next? You at least want to stay friends now? I can stay friends if you give me… space for the next couple of days to get over you-“

“Why would you have to do that? Can’t we be friends at the same time?”

“Huh?”

The pair blinks synchronously in their shared confusion.

“I mean... Don’t we feel the same way? I know dating follows after these kinds of events… and then we become l-lovers… but I believe that being best friends on top of that is even more wonderful-“

“Waitwaitwaitwait, hold it! Hold it right there!” Akko waves her arms frantically in front of her.

“I- what do I hold… exactly?”

Slapping a hand over her face, Akko lets all this information sink in, processing it with her brain that has definitely shrunk from all the stupidity taking place in one room. Is it her? Or is it Diana? The one who is misunderstanding things? Or are they both not coming to an understanding? Do they just not understand each other?

“So let me get this straight…” Akko pinches the bridge of her nose, a migraine coming on.

“Of course.”

“We’re both not straight.”

“… ah.”

Akko looks to her companion curiously at the weird sound.

“That’s what Hannah meant.” Diana says with an audible snap of her fingers, face looking very enlightened, a smile decorating her features.

“…”

“Eh- Akko? Where are we going? Akko?!”

“I could kill you right now, but it’s almost time for my class. You are coming with me to work, and we will talk about this afterwards.”

“Understood.”

“Finally! One of us understands.” She drags Diana behind her, marching towards her classroom.

“Then, why must I accompany you to your class?”

“…”

“Akko?”

Diana feels a tingle in her heart at the sight of red-tipped ears, at the feeling of a heated hand holding hers, and words that are the lyrics to the best song she’ll ever hear in her lifetime.

“I love you, and I just found out you love me too… so I wanted to kiss you…”

Diana’s smile grows wider, now a stupid grin on her face. “But?”

“I’m late for class, so staring at you will have to suffice.” The blonde is pleased to know they both have their priorities set. Though she wouldn’t have minded straying from time-to-time.

“Understood.”

“You’re beginning to understand a lot of things now, it seems.”

“Naturally. I’m a fast learner.” Diana boasts. Akko simply rolls her eyes at that. “Am I allowed to stay with you in your class? What is your next class, anyway?”

“I think it’s the required language class?”

“Oh, I have that now too... Wait- we share that class, don’t we?” Diana realizes, her steps speeding up and now she’s the one dragging Akko.

“Oh, right~, wait- Diana?”

“We have a quiz in that subject.”

“…”

“Fucking run, Diana! Remember stuff like that and tell me sooner! You idiot best friend!”

“I’m your lover now too!”

“JUST. RUN.”

“I love you too, Akko.”

“I love you most.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I (I), I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet

A little selfish… huh”

“You’re selfish”

Akko pauses in her guitar playing to slap the blonde’s hand.

“I like my women like I like my money, green” Both chuckle at the joke only they share; Diana rolling her eyes, sporting a blush, her minty strands fluttering in the wind. “A little jealous”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Akko teases, kissing red cheeks.

“Oh, I'm a beautiful wreck

A colorful mess, but I'm funny”

“You are.”

“Oh, I'm a heartbreak vet (oh)

With a stone-cold neck, I'm so charmin', oh, oh”

Shifting to a position behind Akko on the little hill they’ve chosen for their first date, Diana wraps her arms around the slender waist, planting a kiss to Akko’s shoulder blade before resting her head on the girl’s shoulder, positioned in a way that she could just watch the expressions on her girlfriend’s face.

“I love you.”

Akko gives her a wink as she continues her song, everything she is- her tone, her warmth, her body language- exclaiming that she loves Diana back in the way words can’t.

“La-la-la-la-la-la-la

Do-do-do do-do

Ooh

Do-do-do do-do

Da-da-da da-da

Isn't love all we need? Is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

To be the same prophesy? Is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti, is it love?

Do-do-do do-do

Love (ooh), do-do-do do-do”

It’s a sweet kiss. Gentle, intense, with all the colors of the rainbow, and the passion of the burning sun.

Just like Honey.

“It’s love.”

A/N: If you’re wondering what Diana typed, it was “Honey song” because she doesn’t know the artist. Aren’t we glad Diana is such a smart lass?

Also, this was not supposed to be this long and frustrating. Sorry for the mess and bad plot?

Comments, kudos, reblogs, any feedback is always welcomed!

~Shintori Khazumi

#honey #kagarikhylev #lwa #Little Witch Academia #fanfic #songfic #dianakko #diakko #diana cavendish #akko kagari #hannah england #diana x akko

32 notes · View notes

raiseyourcups · 4 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter Twenty-One

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: cursing, talk of torture, blood, injury Word Count: 4.3k Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: They're stuck in a cantina, Kuiil isn't answering the comlink, they don't know if Little Green is even safe and there's a Moff with a whole squadron of Troopers with their blasters pointing at them. How the hell are they going to make it out of this one?

Note: Sorry for posting so late, I lost two hours of working on this running around trying to get a Covid test (which I’m hoping I’m just over-reacting about my allergies)

“Is there another way out?” Cara asked after finally getting tired of the standoff that they were stuck in. After the man had finished speaking he proceeded to just stand there. Waiting. Presumably for whichever troopers he had sent after the kid to get back either empty handed or with his prize.

Aili was stupidly holding onto a small amount of hope that Kuiil had dropped his comlink and was waiting on the Crest. She knew he wasn't though. But keeping that small bit of hope was the only thing stopping her from taking the risk of outright attacking the Imps holding them hostage. That and their lack of decent weapons. She could only do so much against an entire squadron of Storm Troopers and a team of Death Troopers under the command of a Moff.

“No, that’s it,” Karga said, pointing out the open window with his blaster.

Aili paused for half a second, tilting her head to the side and wondering how she could be so stupid to forget, before she tapped on Mando’s chest piece to get his attention. When he glanced down at her she pointed to the ground with her blaster. She hoped he got her meaning because it was technically his secret to tell if Karga didn’t already know about it.

His helmet cocked to the side before he looked over at where Karga was. “What about the sewers?”

“Sewers?” Karga questioned, wondering why Mando would want to know about the sewers of all things at the moment.

“The Mandalorians have a Covert down in the sewers. If we can get down there, they can help us escape,” Mando explained as quickly as he could. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before now and he wasn’t going to dwell on the fact that it had taken Aili to remind him.

“Not only that but if we can get down there that means access to a ship if we can’t get to the Crest by foot,” Aili added. She was weighing all of their options now. If they got down to the Covert, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to leave any of the girls behind this time. Not with a Moff breathing down their necks.

In fact she knew that if they went down there, everyone would have to leave or fight. No matter what there would be losses, she just hoped it would be more troopers than Mandalorians. If anyone hated the Empire more than she did, it was Mandalorians.

From across the way, Cara nodded her head in agreement, “I like that plan, sewers and another ship are good.”

“Checking for access points,” Mando said, bringing up his arm to set his t-visor to scan the building they were stuck in. Logically there had to be an access point somewhere in a cantina but even Aili knew that Nevarro was weird. She had long since given up on trying to understand how anything was set up in town.

“What the hell are they even waiting for?” Cara questioned, checking back out the window once more to see if anyone had so much as moved a foot out of place. Not that she wanted them to attack now that they had an almost way out but she was surprised that they hadn’t taken them out yet.

Aili leaned around Mando, keeping out of his line of sight (not that it was hard to do since she was so much shorter than him) and watched as several troopers came back carrying parts of a weapon. “Oh fuck me,” she said, louder than she meant to as she turned back around.

“I’ll second that because they’re setting up an E-Web,” Cara said, letting the back of her head lightly hit the wall she was hiding behind. They were really screwed now if Mando couldn’t find a way into the sewers.

“It’s over,” Karga said bluntly.

Mando ignored them all as best as he could, still scanning the room for a way out. He barely stopped himself from releasing an audible sigh of relief when he finally found one. “I found a vent.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Cara said, relief in her voice for the first time but it was still clouded by tension.

“I don’t want to be here when they get that thing put together,” Aili added.

Mando and Cara were quick to run to the back of the room, tossing aside the chairs that were covering the vent. Aili kept looking back at them before checking the progress on the E-Web set up. They were quickly running out of time. What storm troopers lacked in aiming, they apparently made up for in setting up guns.

“Not to rush you two but…” Aili trailed off,

“It’s assembled! How long is that going to take you?” Karga finished what Aili was saying.

“Blow it,” Cara said, stepping back to give Mando room.

“I’m out of charges,” Mando replied, wincing from behind his helmet knowing that wasn’t the answer anyone was going to want to hear. Least of all...

Aili spun around to glare at the back of Mando’s helmet. “What do you mean you’re out of charges?” She couldn’t believe he would even be stupid enough to walk into an obvious trap without every weapon he always had on him. She knew she didn’t bring much either but she wasn’t the one who was usually a walking armory.

Cara picked up the blaster rifle she had taken from the weapons locker, “Move out of the way!”

That was the only warning she gave Mando before she started shooting at the vent in an attempt to get it open. Aili winced at the sound knowing that they’d be able to hear it from outside.

“Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation. I would prefer to avoid any further violence and encourage a moment of consideration,” the Moff spoke again as soon as Cara stopped shooting. Her attempt to kick the vent in was unsuccessful as it didn’t even move an inch.

“Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon,” He paused for half a second before continuing, his tone somehow more smug than it already was. “I am sure that Republican Shock Trooper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporized mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model.”

Cara turned at the sound of her full name, eyes narrowed as she wondered how this man that she had never met before knew exactly who she was.

“Maybe Aili Verdella, formerly AL-1284, Dragon Leader of the Krayt Dragon Program recalls using weapons of this sort on multiple planets against innumerable Rebels and Rebel sympathizers. The New Republic would be very interested in knowing your current location but I think you know where you really belong.”

“That’s not gonna happen any time soon.” AIli muttered to herself and although she would deny it if anyone asked, her heart was beating a little faster. From anger or fright, she wasn’t sure at the moment. She had expected Imps but she hadn’t expected a Moff. This was more than any of them had bargained for.

But now she was even more determined to keep Little Green out of the Empire's grasp. Nothing a Moff could want with him could be good and she'd rather die than let them have another child. He could bring up as much of her past as he wanted but if he thought that was going to shake her, he was sorely mistaken. He was just making her more pissed off.

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships fitted with similar ordnance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears.”

Mando had turned to stare out the window when he heard his name, a name that no one should know, spoken for the first time since he had taken the Creed. He was beginning to understand who they were up against and it was worse than he thought. He avoided looking towards where Aili was, unsure what he would see on her face. He missed the way the hard look in her eyes softened for a moment before she turned back around to glare out the window.

“I advise disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end.”

“Does this guy actually hear himself speak?” Aili questioned, not expecting an answer from anyone. She figured that if she was still a little taken aback by this man knowing her old designation in the Program, Mando and Cara were probably a little more than shaken up. Mando more than Cara. She was angry on his behalf, because now everyone knew his name and he hadn’t even freely given it.

“What do you propose?” Karga shouted out.

“Reasonable negotiation.”

Even the way he said that almost made a chill run down Aili’s spine. She didn’t want to find out how negotiations would go with the Moff. If only because she already knew the answer and she didn’t like it.

“What assurance do you offer?” Karga tried again to get a decent answer.

“If you’re asking if you can trust me, you cannot. Just as you betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand.” The Moff said and finally for the first time, they could hear the sadistic nature in his voice. The one that every high-ranking officer in the Empire had.

“The assurance I give is this: I will act in my own self-interest which at this time involves your cooperation and benefit. I will give you until nightfall and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire.” And then he turned around and walked away with the Death Troopers following behind him. The rest of the Storm Troopers stayed exactly where they were, including the ones waiting to man the E-Web.

“I say we hear him out,” Karga said as he turned to look at Mando and Cara who were still standing in by the vent.

“Are you crazy or just stupid?” Aili asked before she could stop herself. She had heard a lot of stupid things from people recently but this one was the dumbest. Negotiating with a Moff? That would never go their way even if he made it seem like it would.

“The minute we open that door, we’re dead,” Cara added knowing that negotiations weren’t even really an option. She moved from where she was standing, keeping her head low just in case any of the troopers outside decided to be dumb and shoot at them.

“We’re dead if we don’t. At least out there we’ve got a shot,” Karga tried to argue, not knowing that everyone else had already made up their minds.

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m a Rebel Shock Trooper, they’ll upload me to a mind flayer,’ Cara argued, kneeling down beside one of the dead troopers and stripping him of his weapons before moving on to the next one. It wasn’t much but it was more than they had come in with.

“Those aren’t real, just wartime propaganda,” Karga dismissed her worry easily. He had heard all of the propaganda during the war, none had any actual proof behind them.

“No, those are very real,” Aili stated as she skirted around the wall to join the rest of them. Not that being further back would do much to protect her if and when they started to operate the E-Web. Nothing would help once that happened.

“That’s not helping,” Cara stated, giving Aili a heated look.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that I needed to comfort anyone right now,” Aili snapped. “But none of you betrayed the Empire and stole so-called property from them. Sure, Mando broke an agreement with this guy, but I took out a whole base and ran off millions of credits worth of assets.

“I already know how these negotiations will go, he’s going to want the kid and me if only so they can fully punish me and then after they break me, they’ll have me kill for them again.”

She couldn’t go back there again. They’d make sure that she couldn’t get away this time, give her a shock collar and then probably set an interrogation droid on her. Not even to get information, just to torture her until she broke and then they would really get down to business.

And if the interrogation droid didn’t work, they’d just keep trying every method in the book until they got what they wanted. Their Dragon Leader back and answering only to them. They’d make her hunt down anyone they wanted, probably make her bring back all the girls she helped escape first. That way they’d have a whole team to work with again.

“That’s not going to happen,” Mando said shortly, his jaw clenched behind his helmet. He wouldn’t let negotiations end that way, not if he could help it.

“Well then unless we can come up with some brilliant escape plan,” Aili said, throwing her arms out to the side. She didn’t see one and she didn’t like that. Didn’t like that she could only see one outcome unless they could get into the sewers without drawing attention. And before nightfall which wouldn’t take very much longer to come.

“I’m shooting my way out of here,” Cara stated as if it would be as easy as that.

“That'll go over well. This isn’t like Sorgan or even like the war,” Aili tried to reason with Cara. She understood the need to get out of there as quickly as possible, but shooting their way out didn’t seem possible at the moment. All of the thoughts running through her head weren’t helping her come up with a plan though.

“What about you, Mando?” Karga turned to look at the only person who hadn’t said much about their predicament.

“I know who he is.”

Aili let out a scoff, louder than she intentioned. “Yeah, a Moff, I think we should all know that much just from uniform alone.”

“It’s Moff Gideon.” Mando stated without any lead in.

That caught Aili’s attention as she looked at Mando with confusion. Sure, she had known it was a Moff they were facing but she hadn’t known his name. Every “division” of the Empire had been kept away from each other, that way if one was taken down there were several more to fall back on and keep the Empire going.

“No, Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes.” It was Cara’s turn to look at Mando like he had lost his mind. She didn’t know much but she knew Moff Gideon’s fate after the war had ended. Every Rebel did.

“It’s him. He knew my name,” Mando said, knowing that wouldn’t make it any clearer for anybody. Except maybe Aili who knew that he was a foundling just like the four foundlings she sponsored.

“So? What does that prove?” Karga questioned.

“I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child.”

“On Mandalore?”

“I was not born on Mandalore,” Mando replied, shaking his helmet barely enough for anyone to notice.

“But you’re a Mandalorian,” Karga said, confusion on his face and in his voice.

“Mandalorians aren’t all from Mandalore. It’s not a race,” Aili stated, thinking of the four girls that she had brought to the Armorer and of the little Mando had revealed back on Sorgan when Omera had asked about the helmet.

“It’s a Creed.” Mando said, thinking back to the day he had lost everything but gained everything at the same time. It wasn’t a day he particularly liked to think about. “I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own and when I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed.

“The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB officer during the Purge. That’s how I know it’s him.”

“That’s how he knows who we all are,” Cara added.

“He says he needs us which means L...the Child got away safely. I was worried when Kuiil didn’t respond but if they’d captured the kid, we’d already be dead.” Even though his words said he had hope that Kuiil had made it to the Crest, Aili could hear the way his voice sounded almost...empty. Like he didn’t actually believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

“Not necessarily,” Aili said slowly. “I know how the Empire works, remember? As much as I don’t want to even say it, he could be waiting until he has the kid physically in his hands. And once he does, he’ll kill us.”

“Once again, not helping. Hail them again,” Cara said as she walked past Aili and Mando to take over the spot where they had previously been taking cover.

Mando raised the comlink, hoping that he was right and Aili was wrong for once. “Come in Kuiil. Kuiil? Nothing.”

“They might have jammed the link,” Cara said, desperate for something to go their way.

Aili was about to say something when the comlink suddenly beeped and they could all hear Little Green cooing over it. But it also didn’t sound like he was on the Crest, the sound of a speeder bike beneath the coos.

“Kuiil has been terminated,” IG-11 said from over the comlink and Aili looked up at Mando. She actually didn’t know what to think at the moment. But she knew Mando wouldn’t like that answer.

“What did you do?” Mando ground out, fist tight around the comlink. He knew that he should’ve fought Kuiil harder against bringing the droid.

“I am fulfilling my base function,” IG-11 replied in short manner.

“Which is?” Mando questioned, voice still as tense as his shoulders were now.

“To nurse and protect.”

“What the kriff is that thing talking about?” Aili asked, looking straight into Mando’s t-visor when he finally looked at her. He shook his helmet at the same time as shrugging his shoulders. He had no idea what exactly Kuiil had done when reprogramming the droid.

Then the sound of blasters going off sounded, including the sound of ones attached to speeder bikes. Everyone looked around at each other in confusion before Cara peeked around the corner of the wall to see all of the troopers outside turn to face where the attack was coming from. There were several explosions further away from them but no one could tell where they were coming from.

“Look!” Cara’s exclamation brought everyone’s attention to the window again. Mando and Aili quickly joined Cara while Karga took another shot of alcohol before joining them. Every trooper had now turned to face the incoming threat.

“Is that…” Aili didn’t even get to finish her question when IG-11 jumped off the speeder bike, letting it crash into several troopers before it crashed and caused an explosion. Cara ducked down while Mando took cover behind the wall again, reaching out to pull Aili behind cover as well when she didn’t move.

“Cover me.” Mando looked down at Aili before he made a move towards the door. Aili didn’t let him get very far, her grip on his arm tight.

Aili looked up at Mando with a hard stare. “I’m going with you.”

“Aili, for once can you listen to me?” They didn’t have time to argue about this and yet here they were.

“We agreed nothing would change,” Aili glared up at Mando. She knew that if she hadn’t let things change between them, he wouldn’t be second guessing her joining him out in the fight. He hadn’t cared when they were on Sorgan, or Tatooine, or even the prison job. But now suddenly she was delegated to cover fire for him?

“Aili, please.” Mando said shortly, ignoring the looks they were getting from Cara and Karga.

Aili stared up at Mando with anger in her eyes and a growing feeling of wanting to smack him upside the head. But they didn’t really have the time to argue. “Fine,” she ground out, teeth clenched. “But we’re gonna have words when this is over.”

Cara hopped on top of the bar and started up her repeating blaster, taking out a good amount of troopers nearby. Mando made his way out the door, taking out the troopers stationed right outside easily while Aili and Karga gave him cover fire from that end. Aili didn’t mean to flinch when one of the Death Troopers shot at Mando but the blast reflected off his beskar easily even from up close.

He shot one before another grabbed him and threw him to the ground but before the trooper could shoot him, he kicked up and Aili shot him down in the time it took Mando to get back up. From there it was easier, taking out Storm Troopers until they all saw IG-11 get shot in the legs and hit the ground, protecting the Child with its body.

“Mando!” Aili shouted over the sound of blasters going off everywhere including her own. He turned to look at her. “The E-Web!”

He was right by it and all the troopers were too far away to get to it before him. He wasted no time in picking up the canon and taking out the troopers around them. That gave IG-11 the chance to stand back up and move towards the open cantina door where Karga and Aili were. Everything was going too smoothly and that was when there was a blast from the entrance of the cantina where Cara was.

“Fuck,” Aili hissed out, unable to hear the sound of Cara’s rifle anymore. She was about to yell for Karga to head back inside when she heard it start up again, taking out any troopers that had made it in. By the time she looked back over towards Mando, she saw Moff Gideon raise a blaster up and without thinking she shot out at him. She hit him on the shoulder so his own shot didn’t meet its target.

Mando still let out a surprised shout at the blaster shot hitting him from behind, bending over a little and losing his grip on the E-Web for a moment. He shook it off, picking up the canon and turning to face Moff Gideon. Before either he or Aili could even attempt to take a shot at him, he shot the box of ammunition causing an explosion bigger than the one from the speeder bike. Karga turned away from it, hitting the cantina wall while Aili took cover back inside the cantina.

When the fire died down, she felt her heart stop for a moment when she saw Mando laying on the ground. He wasn’t even attempting to get back up. Karga started giving cover fire again for IG-11 who kept moving towards the cantina as best as it could. A quick glance into the cantina and Aili could see Cara moving towards the back.

“Cara!” Aili shouted out for the other woman to move as fast as she could. With a quick glance towards Karga who gave her a nod, she ran out and met Cara beside Mando. Aili nodded for Cara to pick up Mando while she gave her close cover fire as they walked as fast as they could back to the cantina. IG-11 and Karga picked up the slack when Aili stopped to help Cara drag Mando into the cantina.

As soon as Karga and IG-11 were inside the door shut behind them, cutting off Moff Gideon and his troopers. Aili and Cara laid Mando against one of the chairs that they had upturned earlier. Aili turned to Cara, “I got this, go keep watch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not really but I can handle it.”

“This is our only path out,” Karga said to IG-11. “Can you clear it?”

The droid walked over to the vent and placed the Child down before looking down at Karga. “If you go near this child, I will have no choice but to kill you.”

“I understand, can you do anything to move the grate,” Karga replied, still keeping a lookout for any troopers. Cara joined him although she kept looking over to where Mando and Aili were every couple of seconds.

“Yes, of course,” IG-11 said in reply to Karga’s rushed question. He sounded annoyingly calm in the way only a droid could be in this situation. He started cutting through the vent easily.

Aili looked over Mando for any obvious wounds but didn’t see any which meant he was either bruised to hell and back beneath the armor or the beskar was hiding all of it. She looked down at him as calmly as she could, “I’m just going to check the back of your head, no removing the helmet, promise.”

She didn’t wait for his response before she did as she said, her eyes going wide the second she felt exactly what she didn’t want to feel. “Oh shit,” Aili muttered, pulling her hand away from the back of Mando’s helmet. It was covered in blood, more than it should be which meant a severe head wound. This was obviously worse than a simple concussion. Much worse.

“It’s fine.” Mando said, looking up at Aili from behind his helmet. He was impressed by the way she was almost calmly going through the med bag she had brought.

“No it’s not,” she said, her eyes wide as all of her senses went into overdrive. She tried to take a breath, tried to recall all of her field medical training. Head wounds had levels though and after a certain point they had been taught to cut their losses, mercy kill if necessary. But that wasn't going to happen here. Wasn’t even an option.

She just had to figure out a way to help him.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x original character #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc

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make-it-mavis · 4 years

Text

Homesick (Entry #33)

(cw: discussion of addiction) ----------

01/21/88 3:30 PM

Hey.

So… therapy.

Therapy, therapy, therapy.

If you were here, you’d no doubt want to hear how it went. Or how it didn’t go. How much I botched it, or what garbage mumbo jumbo it was. I wouldn’t blame you. Me, going to counselling? Group counselling? No way.

But I would also tell you to hold your horses, because before therapy came detox. Oh, yes. Me and my good friend, withdrawals. Not fun to hear about, I know. Less fun to experience.

I won’t get into the nitty gritty of how sick I was. I’ve described it enough times by now. Let’s just say that it was twice as bad as the worst withdrawals I had ever had before. It had all the usual intense illness, but peppered with little blackouts. I also practically went insane over the need for GC. But, being confined to my game, there was no way to get any. Fix-it endured a whole lot of my screaming and breakdowns… again. At some point he took away my brush for my own good, and as outraged as I was, I think that mostly snapped me out of it from then on out. I could have my brush as long as I stayed calm. I was being treated like a freakin’ child, but I had to just roll with it. I was too weak to fight him, and I couldn’t be without buffs and without my brush.

As I started to come to my senses, I began to remember and understand the memory that I saw in my trip more and more. But what was strange to me was that I could hardly manage to feel anything over it. I knew for sure that those memories were packed full of emotions that could have wrecked me. But at the time, I felt numb to them. As if they just weren’t a priority compared to all else I’d been dealing with. The whole concept of counselling was taking up a whole lot of space in my brain, and I guess I could only feel so much at once. I suppose I ought to have felt thankful for that, but honestly, I felt kind of guilty.

Why? I don’t know. Maybe I felt like you deserved to have someone hurting over you, even though I’d already offered up so much pain. And even though I knew I still had more to give.

Still, slowly but surely, I recovered. It took the full two weeks for me to fully detox. Even then, I wasn’t at 100%. I was, maybe, 85%. I wasn’t shivering and throwing up anymore, but I still felt like a damp, moldy rag.

It was around that point that I finally told Fix-it that I would try counselling.

I think he tried his best to play it cool so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed out of my decision by his enthusiasm, but I could tell he was overjoyed. Not disappointing him for once felt… different.

He went to tell Surge as promised, and he came back with a little pamphlet about the program for me to look over leading up to the first session. Just looking at the thing nearly turned me off from the idea, and actually opening it up and reading it was… so much worse.

The program seemed to be built upon twelve ‘steps’ (hurdles, more like): Honesty, Hope, Surrender, Courage, Integrity, Willingness, Humility, Love, Responsibility, Discipline, Awareness, and Service.

Yeah. That’s a lot of gross words.

As if that wasn’t enough on its own, so many descriptions for these supposed steps were so explicitly Devout, like my faith in the Devs would be what pulled me through this whole thing. Reading it, I almost wondered if I was being tricked into some kind of cult, or enlisted in some kind of military conditioning. Everything about it screamed that I would not fit in. At all. It wouldn’t work, I’d just humiliate myself, and I’d be locked up for two years anyway.

I wanted to quit. Really badly.

But one thought of Tapper was all it would take to guilt me back into it.

When I was ready as I’d ever be, I met Surge in our cord station, and he let me know just how things were going to work. Sessions were on Tuesdays and Fridays from 10:30 PM ‘til midnight, and they would be held in the center of Pac-Man. Yeah, Pac-Man, where some of the best GC is, and where I had my last hit that had been so devastating. I pointed out the bad decision to Surge, and he assured me that he was aware of the risks. He had a few volunteer guards attending all the meetings, making sure no one slipped into the maze to get high. Besides, the whole thing was run by that little orange ghost, Clyde. Why? I don’t know. I guess he’s a philanthropist or something. But keeping him in his own game seemed like the safest option on his part, which seemed fair.

I still think it was stupid.

Surge would escort me to and from the meetings, but I would go in alone. He has too much work to do to sit in on a group therapy session for an hour and a half. But then he told me the worst part -- I could not bring my brush and paint can to the meetings. My tools were to remain in my game. They were considered weapons, which, in the right context, they can be. That much was fair. Less fair was the fact that when too much distance is put between me and my tools, my code gets stretched out. I glitch, I get very, very uncomfortable, and am definitely put in a far less receptive state to counselling that I already don’t want to attend. I explained as much to Surge, including the fact that my brush didn’t even have its full spectrum at the time, but it was no use. Defective or not, I’m too powerful with my brush.

It would have been flattering if it didn’t suck so damn much.

But, I agreed to it. I just wanted to get it all over with. It felt so humiliating and futile. I’ve never been the sort to tolerate being locked in with a bunch of losers blubbering about their feelings, or whatever the hell. I automatically reject pretty much any and all advice, just by reflex. I could not imagine having someone tell me what to do about deeply personal, painful feelings and having it help literally anything. Knowing me, it might have just made it worse.

Yet, despite all that, there was a very real, very conscious part of me that was willing to give it a real shot. I was almost at the end of my rope, just holding onto fraying strands. I wanted to get better, I really did.

So I went into this experience holding onto that will like a lifeline.

Surge escorted me to Pac-Man that night, and, obviously, I went in alone. Inside, right off the train, there were these two big army guys from Front Line waiting at the entrance of the maze. Seemed like a good choice for guards, with how beefy they are. They walked with me into the dark maze, and as we wove through the bends and corners, I just kept thinking about how easily I could drop both of them and run off for a sweet hit of GC if I had my brush. Which just validated Surge’s decision to ban my tools, I guess.

We arrived at the conference room, and my burly chaperones opened the doors to show me in. When I entered, I jumped. Everyone was already there. A group of around nine or ten sat in a circle, and all eyes among them were fixed on me. Along with the eyes of that little orange ghost himself.

“Make-it Mavis,” he called calmly. “Welcome.”

I did not feel particularly welcome, not with the nervous looks and spiteful glares pointed my way. I just stood there, waiting to be told what to do. I was not interested in pleasantries. I just wanted to do the work and go.

Sensing that, Clyde nodded to an empty chair next to him. “Come, sit. Don’t be shy.”

I wanted to throw a retort at him, but I just went with it. Every time I got the urge to screw it all up, I remembered Tapper, and hot shame in my belly put me back in line. I had to do everything I could to ensure that I would never do something like what I did to his game again. I had already spent too long thinking your blood was on my hands. I did not need to throw someone else’s into the mix.

I walked into the fluorescent-lit meeting room and took my seat, and noted immediately that the space around it was far more generous than anyone else was getting, like even the chairs were scared of me. I felt so low, so hot, so embarrassed. I was in a massive hole that I’d tunneled my own way into, putting me on the same level as all those other miserable suckers. I was only there because I had been too weak to stop myself from taking my last buff. I couldn’t stop berating myself over it all. I was lethargic, sweating, ashamed, with my code stretched clear across the arcade. At least the cold metal chair felt pretty good on my feverish ass. I had that going for me.

“Alright, everybody,” Clyde addressed the group in a non-threatening voice, “let’s open up this evening by welcoming our newest member, Make-it Mavis.”

Silence. There were a few hesitant murmurs, so quiet that I definitely would not have heard them if the room was not already silent as the grave.

“Come on now,” Clyde prompted gently. “Say hello, everyone.”

I folded my arms and sighed. “They all knew I was coming,” I grumbled to Clyde, before saying to the group, “Yeah, I know. I’m here. And you don’t like it. Well, TS, ‘cause neither do I. Better learn to deal with it.”

“Actually,” Clyde responded, “there is some truth in what you’re saying, Mavis. None of us wanted to find ourselves in these situations, but everyone in this group did. And maybe we don’t understand each other as well as we could, but that’s just because we don’t know each other’s stories. That’s why we share them here, so we can recognize that addiction arises from a feeling that all living beings share -- pain. We are stronger against pain when we are united, rather than divided.”

There were a few appreciative claps. I wanted to blow my brains out.

“Everyone did know you were coming,” he told me. “But why don’t you give us an introduction in your own words? Maybe let us know why you’re here?”

He was already placing way too much trust in me. Still, I sighed loudly and stood, looking out over the group. Some were big, some were small, most I’d seen in passing, but all were looking at me with full understanding of who I was. An introduction felt superfluous and quite daunting at that point.

"You…" I said slowly, leading into a sigh. "You all know. Or you think you know. There's no point. Just-- just forget it and get this rollin', okay?"

I sat down.

There was no applause, not even awkward and scattered. There was only silence, while some glared at me and others squirmed anxiously. Even Clyde was silent for a moment, but I could see him studying me out of my peripheral.

He then spoke as pleasantly as ever, “You’re not feeling ready to share. That’s alright. Everyone’s expected to participate, but we go at our own pace. Remember that there are no judgments here, and nothing leaves this room.” He then addressed the group, “Why don’t we welcome our newest member with our own introductions? We’ll go clockwise from my left.”

The introductions began, and I made a painful effort to listen. For the most part, they seemed to be the same basic sob story. The unplugging on the 7th put the fear of Litwak in them, and buffs were the only way to escape the existential horrors they had been plunged into. It was supposed to make me feel welcome, but it seemed to just piss me off. It felt like a punishment. I was supposed to sit in a room with a bunch of random losers and pretend we were going through the same thing. All of them could go home after the meeting and have a life waiting for them in the morning. They had roles. They had purpose. They probably still had plenty of sprites who loved them. I didn’t see how I could stand to benefit from the same treatment as sprites who had not gone through the hell I did. Sprites who could walk down Game Central free from harassment or attempts on their life. Who were not being blamed for a tragedy they had nothing to do with. Whose dead best friend was not being remembered as the most hated, corrupt, murderous sprite in history, while they barely had the space to mourn.

But as they carried on, I began to hear things I didn't understand. There was grief in their voices. Some said that buffs were their only escape from how much they missed someone. They talked about loved ones and game mates being lost to the 'Roadblasters incident,' and at the time, it made no sense to me. Up until that point, I thought that you, the twins, and all of Roadblasters were the only casualties. But according to these sprites, some were 'mowed down,' 'caught in the blast,' or even 'burned to death.' Apparently, you'd killed a handful of innocent bystanders somehow, which is… I mean, I’m not gonna lie to you.

That’s horrible.

Obviously, I remembered none of it. Well, I thought I didn’t. But there were things buried in my brain that burned like coals with every story that came. My mind didn't feel right, like it was suddenly struggling against the hold of reality, desperate to fly into another time. I felt so distressed by what I was hearing, so physically ill, that my sensitive, stretched-out code glitched slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice, but enough for my hand to clip into the seat of my chair where I was gripping.

That was just what I needed. Another way to humiliate myself. It kept me distracted from the harrowing stories, at least, as I tried to find a subtle way to tug my hand out of the pixels of the chair.

Then... she spoke.

The sound of one of the group member's voices startled me so deeply that my hand glitched free again. Her voice was not abrupt or loud or frightening -- in fact, it was fairly low, just a smoky, raspy mutter. But I felt it wriggle down into the crevices of my brain, trying to connect with a memory.

I looked at her, but it did not help much at first. I had never seen her before, as far as I could recall. She was a bipedal insect creature, modestly bigger than me, with a dull, lavender carapace and yellow wings folded behind her. She had huge red eyes that took up most of her head, but her tiny slit pupils never seemed to look my way. I still remember exactly what she said.

"My name's Worluk, and I'm an addict," she said, as if she had said it many times before. "Senseless violence killed a sprite I considered a sister. I can't just accept a reality where that's allowed to happen. Where someone so innocent can just die and there's nothing I can do about it. Everything's wrong. There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it right. Buffs took the edge off, but… they didn’t end up righting any wrongs."

As she spoke, I watched her serrated teeth and mandibles move, and stared at her weird spindly fingers that gave me some disembodied, distant ache. I knew her voice, I swore I did. But it sounded off-key. Out of context.

She finished her speech, "Committing crimes alone is one thing, but, then I got my friends involved and, y’know… that’s on me."

Then it hit me. It hit me like an ice-cold tidal wave made of everything I'd been through, everything that had led me to that moment. The nightmares. The trips. The echoing voice in my head that blamed me for your death. I should have recognized that voice the second I heard it.

It was hers.

My attacker, the ringleader of the attempt on my life in Dragon's Lair, that sick, disgusting psychopath who broke my brush and carved your name into my skin, was sitting just across the room from me.

The blood in my veins froze. My heart clenched. I could feel every sick, weak muscle in my body tighten with intent to spring, like an animal with prey in its sights. I stared at her, and she finally met my gaze coolly.

I thought getting through counselling was going to be hard before. I had no idea.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #make it mavis #original character #homesick

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makeste · 5 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 242: SANTA IS REAL

Previously on BnHA: We said farewell to the League of Pliff and were finally reunited with the kids of U.A., an institution which I would just like to point out is so diametrical to the League that they literally took the polar opposite route when choosing their name, and focused only on the acronym. I’m 100% sure U.A. doesn’t even stand for anything. Anyway, so Bakugou and Todoroki went on whirlwind press tour following their ch 219 antics, and the resulting interviews were so disastrous that Aizawa decided to bring in Mt. Lady to give the whole class a crash course in PR 101. Meanwhile All Might scoured Ancestry.com for info on the past users of OFA, and Rat Principal announced that U.A. was going to resume its internship program. This is great news for Deku, who’s been taking his sweet time mastering Blackwhip. Like, we’re not even talking baby steps here so much as little tiny flea steps. Kid’s going to need all the help he can get.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi targets all of my weak points at once. The My OT3 Academia arc gets off to an incredible, award-winning start with a Christmas party and the announcement of Internships 2: This Time, it’s Compulsory. Highlights include: (1) Kaminari and Mina forcing Bakugou to accept the spirit of Christmas into his heart and soul, (2) Iida rocking a Santa beard, (3) Eri holding a giant sword, (4) Bakugou reminiscing about his internship with Best MIA Jeanist, specifically the part where Jeanist was all “A HERO’S NAME IS REALLY IMPORTANT AND SYMBOLIC AND MEANINGFUL, SO YOU NEED TO THINK VERY CAREFULLY ABOUT IT” and oh my fucking god, and lastly (5) Todoroki inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at the Endeavor Hero Agency (known for its famous business slogan: “Got Plot?”). It’s like I wished on seventeen different falling stars and they all came true at once. I still can’t even fucking process this. kfkdslgk.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

I just got like three excited-seeming asks (I haven’t actually read them yet) in rapidfire succession less than an hour ago, and my dashboard is now filling up with filtered “bnha spoilers” posts, so I took this as a sign that I should read the new chapter ASAP. oh gosh

(ETA:

(1) SAMEEEEEE, and (2) YEEEEEEEEP. listen I’m not religious you guys, but I said “oh my god” so much while reading this chapter that I wouldn’t be surprised if he or she finally answers and is like, “YES!? WHAT IS IT???”)

what new state-of-the-art tomfoolery will our intrepid heroes engage in this week. what novel hijinks will they commence. what frivolous escapades will they embark on this lovely Friday morn?

HOMGAAAHHHHHH

THE TITLE IS LITERALLY MY FEELINGS RN. MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS TO ME. YES GOD I LOVE IT. I’LL TAKE A DOZEN

okay. so today, September 6th, is officially Christmas. you heard the man and who am I to argue

so we’re opening with a teacher’s meeting! probably about the internships. or the fact that they’re all screwed. I don’t really know what their priorities are nowadays

okay yeah it’s about the internships. also Rat Principal is nested in Aizawa’s scarf for absolutely no reason, and Aizawa is disgruntled about it. heh. tomfoolery already and it’s only the first panel

oh shit, Nezu’s saying it’s now a government requirement. I got so surprised I actually forgot to call him RP

because ain’t nothing safer than hero internships. if the Basement arc taught us nothing else. it’s that

that was sarcasm in case that’s not coming across. this is clearly a baffling decision. but what are government committees for if not for making baffling decisions I guess

and now Midnight is coming to the same conclusion I was starting to wonder at

can someone please tell me what the PSC’s goals actually are, then? is this not the same group that recently changed the rules of the provisional license exam so that an even smaller percentage of people would pass? so do you want more heroes or fewer? which is it?

how do they cope with it? does anyone even have any idea?? it seems to me like they’re just throwing them to the wolves. we have this problem that we have absolutely no idea what to do about, oh I know, let’s toss a bunch of inexperienced kids at it. and hope that none of them gets murdered I guess

anyway so The Sheriff is speculating that the League must have been involved in the Deika situation, and he’s wondering why the PSC is trying so hard to keep it on the dl

oh yeah. friendly reminder that the PSC, thanks to Hawks, probably knows exactly how powerful Tomura and the League have recently become. so they know full well how shark-infested the waters are, and they’re making it mandatory for the kids to all take swimming lessons. nice

lol back when I was brainstorming ideas for future arcs, I seriously thought Horikoshi would have to go out of his way to come up with excuses for the kids to have future encounters with the League, because the school was so concerned with their safety that they wouldn’t allow them to leave the grounds except on rare occasions. well I sure got that one wrong. though to be fair, for once it isn’t U.A. that’s doing the child endangering here

(ETA: and actually, regardless of how insane it is, I do appreciate that when shit inevitably hits the fan again, at least it won’t be U.A.’s fault this time. I’d like to be able to continue rooting for them, and that can be difficult when they keep doing reckless things that needlessly put children in danger. at least this time they’re not the ones driving the Stupid Bus to Bad Decision School.)

a message to who? the League?? “we’re not scared of you”?? did they seriously not think of all the numerous ways this could backfire?

oh shit Aizawa even went and said the d-word

well there you have it. the government is drafting teenagers to risk their lives dealing with a crisis they won’t out-and-out admit they’re actually having. on today’s episode of “Oh Hero Society, You’ve Got Problems”

anyway so RP is making the admittedly good point that “we’re fucked and everyone is in terrible danger” is hardly a new state of affairs for them these days, and so they’re all moving on. okay then. good talk. lol. gonna need my damn Christmas fluff after all of that

and also RP is mentioning some other mysterious new program to Aizawa too. I wonder what that could be

(ETA: oh yeah I almost forgot about this. thoughts??)

and now we’re cutting to “several days later” oh my god. it’s really happening. I need a moment here, I’m not even ready. gotta get all my Christmas headcanons lined up here. Satou baking cookies. Kaminari and Sero running around arm in arm singing “JINGLE BELLS, ALL MIGHT SMELLS” over and over at the top of their lungs until Bakugou screams at them to shut up. Mineta debating anyone who will listen over the merits of the song Baby It’s Cold Outside. the naturally Christmas-themed Todoroki savoring this, his time to shine

oh shit, we’re still with the fucking Rat Principal. for fuck’s sake

-- ooh but are they talking about the traitor??

will this put an end to the “Horikoshi forgot about it” rumors? several people have mentioned this to me here and there (sorry to everyone whose asks I still haven’t answered), but as far as I know, this was part of a fake interview with Horikoshi that was unfortunately circulated around as though it was the real deal. sometimes people are not cool and think it’s fun to take advantage of communities that are enthusiastic and trusting! always fact-check what you read on the internet just to be safe guys

anyway

so there definitely is one, then. got it

so the traitor is definitely a student in the hero class, then. got it

sob. I got an ask about the whole Kaminari traitor theory earlier this week, so I’m in the process of doing up a whole long post about that. but the cliff’s notes version is, it’s not him. it’s Hagakure. but I will actually go into detail in the post. it’s been a while since I’ve discussed the traitor thing in depth anyway

so RP is asking All Might if he’s coming back today, and All Might is immediately all “WHY, DID SOMETHING HAPPEN TO MY CHILD, OH GOD IS HE OKAY” which, omg. so much love for this man

and RP is like “geez relax” and OH MY GOD

[slaps on a paperboy cap and screeches at All Might in a bad cockney accent] TODAY, SIR?? WHY, IT’S CHRISTMAS DAY

OH MY GOD

I SPOT A GRINCH UP THERE AT THE TOP. SOMEONE NEEDS TO BE VISITED BY THREE GHOSTS FROM VARIOUS DIFFERENT TIME PERIODS

LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE CHILD (GREMLINS ASIDE) IS WEARING A SANTA CLAUS OUTFIT. DID U.A. JUST GIVE THESE OUT FOR FREE

AND IN THE TOP RIGHT NEXT TO SHOUJI, SATOU’S COOKIES! JUST AS THE PROPHECY FORETOLD

I SEE THEY HAVE THE REQUISITE KFC PLATTERS LIKE GOOD JAPANESE CITIZENS. WE SHOULD ADOPT THIS TRADITION HERE IN THE WEST TOO TBH

and last but not least, there are only nineteen children in this panel. it took me forever to figure out who was missing, but pretty sure it’s Iida. Iida where are you. clearly the traitor. certainly not off visiting his brother and the rest of his family, what kind of gullible fool do you take me for

looool

I love when the characters start to become self-aware that they’re the main characters in a story and that plot things keep happening to them at an unreasonable rate

oh my god they really are wearing the suits. it wasn’t just a title page gimmick like I half-wondered

ANSWER THE QUESTION, JIROU. INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW. do we even know where she did her first internship?? I suddenly desperately want to learn more about this

(ETA: she interned with Death Arms, the traffic cone-looking guy who notably chewed Deku out for trying to save Kacchan’s life in chapter one. Jirou my hope for you is that you find someone better this time around!)

also Tsuyu is observing that Momo doesn’t have a chair, and I honest-to-god was trying to count how much seating there was in the previous page. it seems to me like the common room got a lot bigger. it keeps adjusting to their needs like the room of requirement in Harry Potter

also does anyone else wish that Jirou would move her cup off of the armrest. IT’S GOING TO SPILL ffff :/ this is who I am at parties

oh shit wait, that was Iida with the beard?? I honestly thought that was Satou. well then Satou is the traitor. -- NOBODY TOUCH THOSE COOKIES!!

anyway so he’s all “well Deku not to bring up the elephant in the room but YOUR PREVIOUS MENTOR DIED A HORRIBLE DEATH so what’s your plan huh”

oh sweet god

listen, no offense to Centipeder, he seems like a really nice guy, but if I never see his repulsive face again I will count myself lucky

OH FOR FUCK’S

PLEASE GET RID OF IT IT IS CHRISTMAS!!! here I am trying to have a nice time and!!

god. and like, I feel bad, it’s not his fault he is A GIANT BUG and he has like, fucking mandibles and shit! but I can’t help the fact that my skin is trying to crawl off my body right now, and god but I can barely look at this panel long enough to read the dialogue sob why

(ETA: and now that I’ve forced myself to read it again, this doesn’t even make any sense lol. “we have too much work and not enough help, so we have to pass on you coming back to help us out. ...wait.”)

I want Iida to like. pat his lap and tell Deku in a big booming voice to cheer up and come sit and tell him what he wants for Christmas. not in a weird way you guys, come on. but just, he looks so forlorn. do you want Santa to bring you some cozy All Might socks

or wait, didn’t he want a PS Vita according to that one omake thing. what the fuck Deku. someone get this kid a Switch

anyway so Deku says that participation is mandatory this time, so the school will handle assignments if the kids aren’t able to find someone

meanwhile Kacchan is in the background accusing Mina of stalking him. I think she is trying to get him to wear his Santa outfit. doin’ god’s work

OH SHIT YOU GUYS I CLICKED TO THE NEXT PAGE, AND THIS. THIS IS MY CHRISTMAS OMFG

HORIKOSHI YOU DID GET MY LIST! BAKUGOU BEING TROLLED BY HIS SNEAKY DETERMINED FRIENDS AND MANHANDLED INTO A RIDICULOUS GETUP WHILST ANGSTING ABOUT BEST JEANIST BEING MISSING, YESSSSSS. IT’S SO SPECIFIC, I THOUGHT, “SURELY HE WON’T ACTUALLY DO IT,” BUT SANTA IS REAL, EVERYONE

HFMLSDKMGLKLKL!!!!!LKL:DSF

RED ALERT RED FUCKING ALERT PEOPLE!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHH HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

“MERRY CHRISTMAS MAKESTE HERE’S A WHOLE FUCKING CHAPTER ABOUT KACCHAN’S FUCKING HERO NAME COMPLETE WITH A BEST JEANIST META ON THE TOPIC” mother fucker I need to start reading these chapters with a goddamn life alert and a defibrillator on standby

“your name represents your wish.” ladies and gentlemen, introducing the new number one hero... Number One Hero!

heh. just kidding. “what do you want to become?” this, though. this right fucking here is why I’ve been dying to know what name he’ll actually choose. because it does reflect exactly what Jeanist is saying. whichever name he chooses will be an insight into who he is, and who he is trying to be

and this meta is making me rethink all my chapter 223 feels, and tbh now I’m back to thinking that it’s not going to be Ground Zero, unless he comes up with a cool reason for why that name ties in to the image of the person he wants to be (because right now, that particular name is tied more to the past than to the future). but oh my god, if he does choose the name Kacchan I am going to spontaneously combust. I will fucking do it. I will fucking die from being a dramatic excited bitch

(ETA: because. listen. there is one person who has always looked up to him in spite of everything and has always seen his potential. “in the end, in my mind, you’re the image of victory.” this, to me, is the meaning that the name “Kacchan” would have if he did choose it. it would symbolize him choosing to be his best self.)

don’t mind me I’m just stanning this child so fucking hard it hurts

(ETA: oh hey, and more feels on the reread because it looks like the reason he’s having this flashback is because he was planning to go back to Jeanist’s agency to do his real internship, and to show him how much he’s grown. but then The Thing happened. Hawks I just want to talk why won’t you answer my calls.)

Mina and Kaminari are the MVPs of this fucking chapter and I owe them my life omggggg. THEY’RE HERE TO SAVE CHRISTMAS

what are you thinking about there, Best Friend?

are you thinking about your daddy angst. penny for your thoughts

(ETA: “how can I cheer up my new best friend? I know, I’ll make him a lucrative job offer.” actually that’s a good way to cheer up just about anyone in this day and age, Shouto.)

okay, is there some sort of perverted context to Christmas that I’m totally missing here?? or is Mineta just really into the holiday spirit?

I feel like I missed something. eh

anyway Mr. Traitor himself is walking out now and HE’S BROUGHT THE CHRISTMAS GOOSE! or turkey! but goose sounded funnier

of all the things to be shocked about?? “SATOU CAN COOK!?!” like um yes hello you’ve been living with this guy for four months already? like the only thing more ridiculous than this would be, “TOKOYAMI IS A BIRD!?!”

(ETA: like I know baking and cooking are two different things, but in a manga they’re the same thing. fact.)

now someone is making a dramatic entrance! IS IT ERI I WILL DIE!!!! BRING IT

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I HEREBY SWEAR FEALTY TO THIS PANEL OF AN ADORABLY AND FESTIVELY DRESSED ERI MIXING UP HOLIDAYS WHILE DADZAWA PATIENTLY CORRECTS HER. I WILL PROTECT IT WITH MY LIFE. SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS CHAPTER SO THAT I CAN GO DO IT SOME MORE AGAIN, OVER AND OVER AND OVER

Ochako is me

(ETA: DEMONS OUT! DEMONS IN!! THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT!! YOU DO THE HOOOOOOOOKEY POKEY.)

and Kiri is out here asking the real questions, but sadly Aizawa says Mirio is spending Christmas with his own class. WELL FINE. I HOPE HE’S EXPERIENCING THE FOMO OF A LIFETIME. HOW DARE HE HAVE OTHER FRIENDS whatever I’m over it

sobbbbb

WELL HOW MANY FUCKING HOLIDAYS ARE THERE!? CAN SOMEONE HELP A GIRL OUT OR WHAT

oh my god I’m just going to reblog every single Dadzawa panel and none of you can stop me go on and try!!

impatiently waiting for fanart of Aizawa tucking Eri in and reading her A Visit from St. Nicholas. get on it, fandom

ohhhhhhhhh my goddddddd

I know it’s not a Christmas song, but I am this close to cranking up “I Gotta Feeling” by the fucking Black Eyed Peas. ya feel

do you guys see him sitting there next to Dadzawa. he finally gave in. Satou is feeding him chicken. his friends will not abandon him to be on the naughty list. motherfucker that’s it. I’m fucking doing it. fill up my cup. mazel tov

lol I don’t even want to click to any more pages because they’re all so happy and it won’t fucking last. :( noooo

good little boys and girls. noshing on that chicken. Kacchan continuing to be stalked by the Ghost of Christmas Friendship. Tokoyami what even is that. lol and is this their weird way of distributing random gifts. did Sero buy Jirou a scarf. did Deku buy Ochako a freaking All Might plush keychain!? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING AND WHY DOES ERI HAVE IT NOW AND WHY IS SHE MAKING THIS FACE

-- holy fuck, IT’S A SWORD. oh my god. THEY GAVE THE SEVEN YEAR OLD A FREAKING BUSTER SWORD AND SHE IS FEELING IT YESSSS THIS CHAPTER TRULY IS ALL MY DREAMS COME TRUE

“dad can I keep it.” Aizawa: [not even opening his eyes, all bundled up in his oogie boogie suit] “sure”

so now we’re cutting to afterwards and everyone’s cleaning up and Deku’s using his freakish super strength to lift heavy things impressively while Bakugou continues to stomp around with his hands shoved into his pockets waiting for someone to finally tell him he can go back upstairs

OH???

motherfucker. are you going to invite them to come intern with you and your dad!!?!?? I know I was all set on Bakugou interning with Miruko just last week, but I TELL YOU WHAT BITCHES, I’M FUCKING FLEXIBLE LIKE THAT

OH SHIT YOU GUYS!!!!

TODOROKI ARE YOU PLAYING THE OT3 SONG BECAUSE HONEY YOU KNOW THAT’S MY JAM, BRO

OH FUCKING SHIT YESSSSS

BAKUGOU DO YOU WANT TO INTERN WITH YOUR TWO BEST FRIENDS, EXCUSE ME, HATED ENEMIES. DEKU DO YOU WANT TO INTERN WITH YOUR TWO BEST FRIENDS. AND THE NUMBER ONE. WHO JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE BEST FRIENDS WITH THE NUMBER TWO. WHO JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE BEST FRIENDS WITH TODOROKI “I DIDN’T HAVE A FLASHBACK IN THE LAST ARC BECAUSE WE WERE SAVING IT FOR THIS ONE!” TOUYA? THAT’S RIGHT, IT’S BEST FRIENDS ALL THE WAY DOWN. OH MY GOD

it’s like Horikoshi made a long and detailed list of all of his regrets about the previous internship arc, and then said, “fuck it. do-over”

you guys. I’m all out of cans. we only have can’ts and cannots. I cannot

Christmas fluff. Dadzawa. Bakugou hero name meta. hints that the traitor plot will soon be relevant again. and the motherfucking OT3 of OT3s, MY SONS, MY THREE RESPLENDENT OFFSPRINGS, interning together at the motherfucking Endeavor Hero Agency because Todoroki is the sweetest most considerate angel, and because KNOCK KNOCK, IT’S ME THE PLOT, I’VE COME FOR YOU AGAIN AT LONG LAST AND I VOW TO NEVER LEAVE YOU ALONE AGAIN FROM THIS MOMENT ON

shit, y’all. I don’t know if it’s possible for an arc to become my favorite motherfucking arc only two chapters in, but damned if this sunnuvabitch ain’t trying

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 242 #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #eri (bnha)#class 1-a #best jeanist #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I gotta feelin'#that tonight's gonna be a good night #let's do it let's do it let's do it let's do it #JUMP OUT THAT SOFA #LET'S KICK IT OFF #lol you guys I am in a *good* freaking mood I tell you what

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myncisworld-2point0 · 4 years

Link

[NOTE: This article is from 2014.]

According to some people, Mark Harmon is best known to his fans as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs on CBS’s hit drama series NCIS. Those people are wrong, of course, because he’s always going to be Freddy Shoop, a summer school teacher in over his head in 1987’s appropriately-titled Summer School. Harmon turns the ripe, young age of 63 today, and it’s clearer than ever that this man is in possession of a map that leads to the Fountain of Youth, because Harmon ages with grace, am I right, ladies? In fact, while it’s no wonder why this actor was named People’s Sexiest Man Alive in 1986, it is rather shocking that he never received that accolade again, specifically in 1987, when the most important work of his career was released.

The coke-fueled era of the 1980s in Hollywood was filled with more high school movies about slackers and smartasses than anyone actually needed, especially when it came to featuring students who looked like they were older than the teachers. Summer School was always perhaps the most underrated of the decade’s tributes to slackademics (trademark pending) because what it lacked in the typical star power of, say, a John Hughes film, it more than made up for in creating arguably the most creative collection of “teenage” dipshits than any film of the genre. At the same time, it showed that Harmon, who was probably best known at the time for his role as the HIV-positive Dr. Robert Caldwell on St. Elsewhere, had a strong sense of comedy, while also confirming (along with her debut on Cheers that same year) that Kirstie Alley was much, much more than just a really attractive Vulcan.

youtube

Summer School isn’t just some cult classic that people love to mention whenever someone randomly asks, “Hey, whatever happened to Dean Cameron?” It was actually well-received at the box office, earning $36 million in theaters on what I assume was a budget of a few rolls of nickels and someone’s baseball card collection. Critics, however, were a little more mixed on this mindless comedy, as Roger Ebert gave it one-half star out of four, which sounds a lot better than one star out of eight, so you know what? I’ll take it.

Maybe in the movie business we could coin the term vaporfilm, for movies that zip right through our brains without hitting any memory molecules.

“Summer School” is a movie like that, a comedy so listless, leisurely and unspirited that it was an act of the will for me to care about it, even while I was watching it. This movie has no particular reason for being, other than to supply employment for people whose job possibilities will not be enhanced by it. (Via RogerEbert.com)

Here’s a tip for all of you aspiring film critics out there, courtesy of King Ebert – if you’re watching a movie with a title as lazy as Summer School, and the opening of the film features a school’s teachers trying to haul ass after the bell on the last day of the semester so they don’t get suckered into teaching the titular course, get up and walk out. Leave the movie for those of us who love to watch stupid movies and go to the next theater to watch and analyze La Bamba. Perhaps that’s why the fan reviews of Summer School on Netflix seem to be so glowing, as I only found three that were two stars or less. In fact, here’s the worst of them all:

Nothing but trash. Nothing worth seeing. Degenerate teens in bad need of harsh discipline. It’s depressing to think that so many young people actually enjoy this trash. This movie is immediately available from NF while so many more interesting ones languish in the ‘saved’ section, or in ‘short wait’, ‘long wait’, or ‘very long wait’ status. Just one more nail in the coffin of American culture, or lack thereof.

Thank God Armond White weighed in. The majority of people, myself included, fondly remember Summer School for what it is – a fun, stupid movie that was meant to make us laugh, while perhaps also rubbing our noses in the awesomeness of 80s California if we didn’t live there. But I’ll take this analysis one step further by laying out these 10 very important lessons that I took away from Summer School after watching it this morning, in paying tribute to Harmon, a man who was Kevin Costner before Kevin Costner was Kevin Costner.

Always put sunglasses on your dog.

Fact: 100% of movie posters that have dogs wearing sunglasses on them are movies that I’m willing to at least watch. The movie could be called This Dog Dies from Space AIDS, and I’d still be curious to see why that dog is wearing sunglasses.

Always have an escape plan.

When everybody else is hauling ass from the faculty parking lot at the last second, there’s no reason that you shouldn’t already be packed for your trip to Hawaii. I don’t like to point fingers, but Mr. Shoop’s girlfriend is clearly at fault here. All she had to do was pack the car for him, and he could have jumped in and taken off for the airport. Instead, Kim kicked her man while he was down and not only snatched her ticket to Hawaii from the pocket of his rad flowered shirt, but she also told him to drive her to the airport. I don’t mean to offend anyone who is overprotective of fictional characters, but I hope that Kim was eventually fed to the volcano gods.

Also, let’s consider this a lesson within a lesson – would you walk away from your teaching job right now if someone handed you a winning lottery ticket for $50,000? I say no. Just pass all of the morons while you spend the class time reading up on investment opportunities.

Never be afraid to encourage the creativity of your students.

https://youtu.be/-5Pku48YPFo

The true sign of a teacher’s efforts in a classroom is how far the students are willing to go to show others their appreciation of his work. In Shoop’s case, once he resigned because his students were greedy little pricks, those same students objected to a new teacher taking over the class by staging a gruesome and horrifying murder scene, complete with two of the students wielding chainsaws, declaring themselves psychopaths and thus taking credit for the violence. Of course, I can’t stress this enough, no high school students should ever think about trying to recreate this scene today.

On a side note, and I hate to nitpick true artistic masterpieces, if you’re going to have a severed hand pull a dude’s tongue out of his mouth and slap him with it, it’s really important that he not blink. Damn it, people, we need accuracy.

Being a male teacher in California in 1987 was probably terrifying.

https://youtu.be/farC0cWkpvc

Between Summer School and Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 was a huge year for Courtney Thorne-Smith. Hell, both movies came out in the same week in July, when she was just 19 years old and poised to become the next big things in terms of girls that all teen boys wanted to marry. Unfortunately, her movie career never really panned out, as the last live action role she had on the big screen was as Natalie in the Carrot Top hot fart Chairman of the Board. Her TV career was obviously a lot better, but that’s neither here nor there. Having her play a lovelorn surf goddess crushing on Shoop probably lured a lot of guys to the teaching profession, only to have them learn the hard way that prison sucks.

Additionally, there was the foreign exchange student Anna-Maria Mazarelli, who would grow up to win our hearts as Alotta Fagina. Was it standard procedure for foreign exchange students to be shoved into remedial English classes upon arrival? Sure.

It’s important to support fine arts programs.

https://youtu.be/u0kF24ceZMI

When I write about how hilarious it was how Hollywood tried to make us buy that some actors were teenagers when they were clearly at least a decade older, Ken Olandt is really Exhibit A. The guy who played Larry, the sleeping student by day and male stripper by night, was actually 29 when he was portraying a 17-year old, which is pretty hard to pass when very few teenage boys A) look like that and B) are hired to shake their dongs in strip clubs. Still, glaring age gaps and statutory and employment laws aside, it was nice to see that Shoop was so cool about Larry’s awesome after-school job. That is until he was busted by his mom and presumably spent the next decade in therapy.

It’s not lying if the company ripped you off in the first place.

The first time that I ever saw Summer School, I was convinced that the part about writing letters to companies to get free stuff would work every time. I spent a lot of time trying to write letters to the companies that made my favorite toys, so I could convince them that the action figures and especially the vehicles that I couldn’t afford had been broken. But then I realized that I might be called on my BS, and guys in suits might show up to my home demanding to see the broken toys, and then I’d be screwed and sent off to prison for lying. Ultimately, owning Krang’s fortress wasn’t worth a life spent in prison making license plates, which is how TV and movies taught me that license plates were made.

Jail in California looks very scary.

I still don’t know what the guy with the mustache is doing with his hand, but it’s really scary and I don’t want to ever have someone do that to me, so I’ve chosen to lead a life on the straight and narrow. Thank you, Summer School, for teaching us that jail is filled with scary perverts who want to do bad things to shirtless men on roller skates.

No matter the risk, steal your boss’s girlfriend.

https://youtu.be/B7ZTNm5o780

Vice Principal Gills was a pretty big bite in the ass, so we had to cheer for Shoop in pursuit of Robin Bishop, because Shoop was the coolest and his girlfriend had only recently taken off for Hawaii without him. Sure, Robin was kind of stuck up because she questioned the legitimacy of taking students to something as awesome as a petting zoo, which produced adorable moments like this:

And she also wore a denim shirt tucked into a different shade of denim skirt, because it was the 80s, but she had a good heart and she just wanted what was best for all students, even if it meant agreeing to a date with Shoop to get there. Also, Gills looked like a total goober-douche, and there’s no reason he should have been with Robin.

Education can be a compromise.

https://youtu.be/LzdoMQL_jR8

Is Alan Eakien one of the most underrated teen nerds of cinema? I say yes. That kid may have been dumber than rocks compared to his genius brothers, but he negotiated circles around Shoop. In exchange for a slightly-above-half-assed effort from less than half of the original class roster*, Shoop’s couch was set on fire, his goldfish murdered and car wrecked, bookending that whole going to jail for the two D-bags thing. Things could have been considerably worse, too, because Robin could have tried to get him banned from teaching for the rest of his life for allowing a female student to live with him.

But ultimately Shoop sacrificed so much for the sake of helping a few of his students learn some lessons about life, since they didn’t all pass their exams. Is he a good teacher for that or was he just an idiot being taken advantage of by other idiots? Especially idiots who looked like this:

Being an idiot isn’t all that bad, so long as you’re not a total idiot.

https://youtu.be/8fvhchY0UmY

Hey, in the end, some of those kids passed their exams, and the most important of them all was Pam, because that meant she could move on and not try to make it so Shoop returned to jail. This guy went from being just a run-of-the-mill bro’s bro gym teacher to making an impact in the lives of some kids who looked like they were grown adults. Sure, he couldn’t even talk a 17-year old out of stripping, and he allowed some of his students to treat the foreign exchange student like a sex model, but Freddy Shoop probably learned more than anyone.

Also, he totally stole the douchebag Vice Principal’s girlfriend, and Wonder Mutt found Bobby again in the end, so this really was a movie with a beautiful and happy ending.

#Summer School (1987)#Freddy Shoop #Robin Bishop #Mark Harmon #Kirstie Alley

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mostlywritersblock · 4 years

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Dracula 2019 fic

Part 5

****

Zoe watched the exchange with curiosity, thoughts racing a mile a minute. Agatha was still fuming somewhere deep inside her when a stranger thought occurred to her. Slowly Zoe’s eyes landed on the mug resting precariously on the desk edge.

Jonathan had drank from it.

He’d actually swallowed.

Agatha’s rage was becoming loud again.

“What are you drinking Mr. Harker?” Her voice had a strange foreign lit to it.

Both Dracula and Jonathan turned to her.

“Blood.” Jonathan answered easily enough. Zoe felt her stomach drop.

Well shit. Now she had two homicidal vampires on the loose.

“You know for someone who claims they’re better than another, killing people still seems to pass judgement.” And damn that was not her voice talking.

Jonathan actually looked guilty. But only momentarily.

“It’s not-I didn’t kill anyone for this blood. When, when the foundation first came up with the idea of volunteerism for the project I thought it was a stroke of genius. So, I enlisted my own volunteers. I have been for a very long time.”

Zoe stared. “You don’t kill people.”

“No Dr. Helsing.”

Zoe was shocked, shocked because that meant the idea to sustain vampires in the most pacifist manner was possible. It- it opened so many doors, so many new possibilities. A whole species that could coincide! And here she’d started to doubt, what with the way Dracula turned his nose up at the idea.

Dracula, who turned down most of her brilliant ideas simply because he didn’t want to.

Dracula who still drank live blood.

Dracula who kills people

Dracula who slaughters without so much as a second thought.

Zoe was pissed.

In one swift motion she was crossing the floor to them. She deftly picked up the mug, looked at its deep scarlet contents, and held it out to Dracula.

“Drink it.”

Dracula all but sneered. “What? Why would I-“

“I’m not asking, drink the fucking blood.” She hissed. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Jonathan’s eyebrows shoot up, looking between the two.

Dracula frowned, he wasn’t one for taking orders but something in the tone of Zoe’s voice had him reassessing his next move. Slowly and with all the attitude of a petulant (refined) teenager he took the mug. Sniffed it once and then maintaining eye contact tipped the mug back and drank the rest of the contents in one swallow.

Dracula set the mug back down, tasting the life in his mouth like one taste wine.

“Interesting, a little dull, the flavors gone much to cold, and there’s some deep rooted issues that need to be resolved.”

Dracula clicked his tongue, “All in all not the most horrible drink I’ve had, but certainly not to my palette I should think.”

“Oh for Christ sake Dracula!” Zoe threw her arms up. “This could be a wonderful alternative.”

“No, we’ve already been over this Zoe, nothing compares to live blood, this is hardly second rate at best.” Dracula folded his arms, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Screw your palette and screw you.” She glared. “You’re always going on about how much better you are than everyone else, how no one can understand because we’ve only lived the one life time. Well here’s something, Jonathan has and as far as I’m concerned he’s doing much better than you with only having one third the amount of time.”

Silence.

Zoe could tell she’d hit a nerve, albeit a nerve she didn’t know existed but it was there all the same and glaringly obvious now that she could see it. A vileness coursed through her, if she played her cards right she might actually get somewhere with this.

Throwing him her own sneer Zoe stepped in close. “That’s right, it’s true, Jonathan really is a better you. I mean look at this place.” She gestured to the large office. “Look at this building, look at all the money Jonathan’s been tossing our way for years, and we never suspected a thing. No paper trail to follow, sorry blood trail I suppose. No missing people or bodies. No scandals, no sinking ships. Clean as a bloody whistle. And he still manages to be everything you aren’t.” Zoe finished her rant calmly but she could see the tendrils of frustration coming off the Count in waves. An image of a black wolf scratching through a gate flashed across her mind.

Weird.

Dracula let out an unsettling chuckle.

“Really? That’s it? Come on you can do better than that, Zoe. You’re so close! Maybe try with a little more emotion, anger looks good on you.”

Zoe let out an exasperated sigh and took a step back.

“Look, believe it or not Dracula but I’m trying to help you. Before today there was no one else alive like you, you were one of a kind. And despite the fact that you’re a royal bastard and kill people, it’s my job as a scientist to understand why. Why you are the way you are, how come you and Mr. Harker are two of the only people who survived the initial turning point. Why is that? Maybe there’s something similar in your DNA, maybe it’s something as simple as where you came from or as small as what you ate. Whatever the answer, know that I intend to find out.”

She took in another deep breath. “That being said all of this could be in your best self interest so I don’t see how it couldn’t hurt you to compromise just a little and stick to the volunteer program?”

Dracula eyed her curiously for a moment.

“You’re serious aren’t you? What, now we work together Zoe? I don’t think Agatha will be pleased.”

“We were already working together, we just hadn’t acknowledged it.”

“Oh, and now we are?”

Zoe closed her eyes in frustration. “I’m willing to put aside our differences in the name of science if you are.”

Dracula was looking at her curiously again.

“Let’s say I agree, you and your team continue to run test while I’m stuck in a cage being injected with blood every few hours until you make some kind of break through? Not really my cup of tea darling.”

“How about you agree to come in for testing once a day but maintain your freedom elsewhere, you also keep to a strict diet of volunteer blood.”

Dracula actually seemed to be considering her deal.

Holy shit.

There was a small sigh to the side of them and Zoe was almost embarrassed to admit she’d almost forgotten Jonathan.

Dracula didn’t. His eyes lit up viscously and his grin showed too much teeth. Jonathan for for his part looked like he regretted gaining back their attention.

“Alright Zoe, I’ll agree to this deal of yours on one condition.”

Zoe couldn’t believe it, was he really going to agree to stop drinking live blood?

No more killing.

“Johnny has to attend the test as well, with me.”

It was too good to be true, Zoe felt the floor being pulled out right from under her. How could she have been so naive.

Jonathan floundered in as much an Englishman can.

“What? No-no, no I won’t, I want no part of this deal. Please, just go, I’m warning you.” Jonathan let out a slight growl, eyes pinning Dracula with a glare.

“Alright fine, you don’t have to Johnny that’s your choice...just know all the lives of the people I’m going to kill from here on out will be on your hands.”

Well.

Fuck.

Watching Dracula work his magic was saying something for sure, but to watch him pin Jonathan so easily between two evils was horrifying and terrible. Zoe wanted to say something, wanted to voice her opinion on the matter, that Jonathan shouldn’t be involved not if he truly didn’t want to. Not after the amount of pain she saw flash in his eyes.

She said nothing.

She said nothing because she knew that Dracula had already made up his mind and there was no going back. It was either agree to his terms or nothing at all. And Zoe was not about to give up the potential opportunity to save as many lives as possible.

She’d awoken this sleeping dragon. Now he was her responsibility.

Both Zoe and he watched as Jonathan seemed to come to terms with himself. With the decision before him, and if Dracula still knew his Johnny like he thought he did then there was no way the man was going to condemn anyone.

“Al-alright. I agree.”

Zoe stared in awe for a moment before holding her hand out to the Count.

Dracula gently took her hand in his.

“I agree as well.” He said smoothly.

Zoe nodded once before retracting her arm. “Good.” She turned to Jonathan, “thank you for agreeing as well Mr. Harker.”

Jonathan didn’t reply, he just sat heavily in his chair as if he was carrying some unquestionable amount of weight on his shoulders.

Maybe he was.

Maybe they both were.

******

Leaving the building was a lot harder than Zoe has expected, mostly because Dracula wasn’t taking any excuses. He wanted to make sure rules where in place but mostly he wanted conformation from Jonathan about attending the test as well. Eventually though Zoe had to step in, at some point it seemed Jonathan had ran out of words to say to Dracula and simply sat numbly in his chair. Zoe could see the defeat easily enough, which is why she quickly wrote down her number and placed it in front of him. She told him to give her people a call and they’d arrange everything. She then pointed to the number on the desk.

“This is my personal mobile, in case you need to reach me.” There was a note of pity in her voice and she hoped he hadn’t picked up on it. Jonathan didn’t acknowledge her, but she had a feeling he heard her.

Next she grabbed Dracula’s elbow and started pulling him out of the office, Dracula looked like he wanted to protest but Zoe threw him a look before he could open his mouth. Instead he glanced back at Jonathan.

“Bye bye Johnny, see you soon.” He grinned brightly and waved as they stepped through the glass doors.

Inside the elevator Zoe rounded on him.

“Just so we’re clear what you did back there to him was not alright.”

Dracula rolled his eyes. “Of course it wasn’t but how else am I going to get him to spend time with me.”

Zoe was floored. “You can’t be serious, he hates you.”

“So did you as I recall, and here we are.”

Zoe scoffed but didn’t deny it. “Forcing him to come to these test with you isn’t going to do anything but cause more harm.”

“And here I thought you’d be happy to have another test subject, what with all that talk about having a base to go off of? Now you can scientifically compare us.”

“Don’t be an arse, that was before..”

“Before, what, Zoe?” Dracula prompted.

“Before I saw his eyes.”

There was a long pause, and Zoe was about to drop the discussion altogether for the time being until Dracula spoke up in a hushed voice.

“They are beautiful though, aren’t they...I was so worried they wouldn’t keep. And yet, even a century later...”

Zoe looked over as the Count trailed off, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Neither said anything further as they were about to step off the lift and into the lobby.

****

TBC

#oh drac #i don’t think Zoe was talking about johnnys eye color #but they are pretty #dracula 2019 #dracula #zoe van helsing #agatha van helsing #johnathan harker

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arkus-rhapsode · 6 years

Text

My Hero Academia Chapter 211 Review

Ummm, Early chapter this week. But were on break next week soooo... I guess this is fine. (Note: there has been an edit made to this review to respectfully not spread any misinformation)

So w e oddly start this chapter with a little character background from Monoma. Apparently he always wanted to be a hero, but due to the fact that his quirk can only copy others, he will have to depend on others which is not what an active hero should have to do. I actually really like this cause its something we ever got from any other 1-B student, the motivation behind their path. It always made them feel a bit more shallow, so I appreciate Monoma getting a scene like this.

Also he now compares himself to Shinsou. How the two are the same is the fact that their heroic aspiration were denied based on their quirk. The difference though is Monoma still made it into the hero program and not Shinsou.

Now this scene, of Monomaa saying that doing unhero like things to those who are more gifted is okay, is likely reflective on the fact that being a hero is also a popularity contest in this world. To stand out and inspire, you’ve gotta be the best, and sometimes to do that, you do some things you might not be proud of. And with a mentality like that, its easy to see why someone like Stain is so pissed at society when it churns out heroes that will willing do un-heroic things. But then you can’t blame Monoma and Shinsou who are just trying to do their best, but given their genetic lottery they have to work harder than most.

But enough of this flashback, we need to cut back to the present where Deku is slowly losing control.

So Deku’s new black energy is emerging from his arm and Deku is quite literally fighting back against is. Monoma wonders if this is a new power to which I’m gonna save my thoughts on this till later.

Yeah Deku, its almost like the plot decided to fuck you over for the sake of this twist that I’m pretty sure no one wanted and that we could just keep to the usual flow of this arc, but no, we had to veer off in this direction because-Okay okay, I’ll save that for later too. I should really speed this up.

So its turns out that black stuff isn’t actually lightning, but more tendrils. Yeah cause that’s what One for All needed, tentacle hentai. Actually with theses black tendrils, now every fan fic writer who made a Deku as Venom AU (yes those exist) has just been justified.

Anyway, Deku releases what looks to be a beam of energy (I honestly can’t tell) and fires it off at Monoma who Deku at least warns to run.

Okay so, first off, good job Monoma. I’m glas we did make a joke out of Monoma being arrogant enough to think he could handle this. Second, what the fuck is wrong with class 1-A. I’m not saying they should act like they just watched a puppy get shot, but their classmate literally seems to be destroying everything. Now you could say that Todoroki did the same thing when he cranked up the heat, but the difference is that fire is a part of Todoroki’s quirk. Black tendrils has never been apart of his power. I know that not every kid in a classroom has to know or care about all their classmates, but I’d be concerned.

Third thing, So it seems OfA really is sentient as its jittering and moving around like it has some sort of self awareness. And finally, Yup. Can’t control your power. After we had come such a long way, you somehow are forced back to square one. I’ll talk about it later as the darkness begins to overflow.

Gotta feel bad for 1-B who just came here for an exercise, now they might die by black energy.

We see the darkness start sticking to objects (wow it really is Venom) and hoists Deku into the air. Yeah, I don’t now is this is something a user of one for all cold do, but boy its a little goofy. Uraraka and Shinsou seems to be the only people who now gives a shit about how this darkness is surging.

We now see this darkness is actually fighting against Deku, smashing him into a wall. All Might, makes a good fucking call and wants Aizawa and Vlad to shut this down. Which I’m sure Aizawa is perfectly fine with. Vlad has also had like no lines this round, like I’d love to hear his commentary.

(Yes, I realize there is an eye looking thing in the darkness, but it took me so long to find that I’m honestly might not even be sure that it is an eye.)

This scene... Breaks my heart. This in a nutshell was why I’m so opposed to this twist. After 200 chapters, Deku finally, FINALLY, doesn’t have to worry about hurting himself. He can now catchup with everyone else and it was finally time to show it off, but now. Now its fighting back. One for All is literally making him lose control when there should be no reason for him to. Has Deku master One for All? No. So there was still a chance things would go wrong, but not like this. Why? did it have to be the moment when finally the first year is coming to an end does One for All show that Deku is still not ready.

And Deku’s reaction to this is perfect for this. He’s not thinking about how he should be strong enough to resist this, showing he grew to arrogant and this is teaching him a lesson. No, Deku is sad. He’s upset that after all this time people didn’t have to worry for him. He was now strong enough to fight like Bakugou and strong enough to make 1-B actually consider him a threat, but now... Now he’s lost control.

Now it is possible that this is do to quirk singularity a topic that I’m doing a post on later, but in short it was brought up about like 50 chapters ago and its when a quirk becomes something that humans can’t control anymore. But again, talking about that later.

I’ve heard the possibility that, this darkness is actually One for All in a sentient state. Much like the previously mentioned before quirk singularity. That this is like genes being passed down so long and growing complex enough to the point that they are no longer controllable. Now there have been plenty of theories that have come out about this, but out of all of them, in general they likely relate to this. The darkness is literally fighting back against Deku as sign of his lack of more than 20% control and thus the quirk seems to quite literally be swallowing him whole. It feels like if this is the case, then Horikoshi realized that he made it so Deku was now fully protected from damaging himself thanks to his quirk. But he could just make it seem like Deku was just arbitrarily growing stronger without having any difficulty, so he developed a way for Deku to quite literally fight himself in his struggle. It was no longer limb destruction, Deku is literally fighting so that he has the right to use this quirk to its fullest extent.

If that is the case, I can’t say I agree with it. Look, I’m sure anyone could say that this doesn’t bother them. That this makes it so Deku and One for All are like Naruto and the Nine-tails, Ichigo and the hollow, Asta and the demon, etc. And those aren’t things I’m opposed to and are things that I enjoyed. But this isn’t the same. The monster inside that gives you more power worked for those series because that was their power system and world allowed for that. But MHA, quirks are more similar to Goku and Luffy. Their abilities are what is to be heightened and their second release: Super saiyan and gear two, are derivative of their competence of their biology and their power. And Deku was like that. He has a quirk that has nine generations worth of power in it and to use that power he had to learn how to take more in. His super saiyan was him at one million percent. It would destroy his body, but for a time he could use all that power. But I guess this new problem has occurred and we’ll have to see where it goes.

Anyway, the chapter isn’t done as Uraraka floats up to him.

So Uraraka is holding down darkness Deku and calls out to Shinsou and that’s where our chapter ends. Now, if people remember my FT reiewing days, they’re probably to call this a BS ship moment that defies reality and serves to pander a single fanbase. Well, no. Cause that’s not what this is. Uraraka is doing what a hero should do. She’s trying to save someone in danger, and this isn’t presented as this overtly romantic moment like say Sakura hugging curse mark sasuke, no this is actual danger that isn’t stopping so Uraraka is at risk of getting hurt here.

Now, I’m not saying you can’t take this romantically, I mean there is a lot of evidence that the two like eachother, I’m just trying to say, power of love, isn’t what’s stopping this madness, hell its evident that Uraraka needs Shinsou and his power to try and stop it. So this trope is still being done, but there is some logical weight to the solution.

Post Chapter Follow Up: So I wanna first say, this chapter is really short. Like its about 13 pages and it has very, very little dialogue. I did almost felt like I was reading a Bleach Chapter, but in fairness, this had a lot more detailing and was clearly used more as a way to show the sheer scale and weight of what the hell this thing is. Plus more detailed art, so I don’t thing the bleach comparison is entirely fair.

I am disappointed with the page count, given the break next week, I would’ve really appreciated we ended on more of bang than this. All its done is left me wanting more, but not in a very good way.

In terms of negatives, this chapter has pretty much confirmed team Deku vs team Monoma has gone off rails and that our conflict is going to actually be how do we solve this darkness. Last week, I talked about my thoughts on why I’m not a fan of that as this seems like a transparent way to make deku lose as well as seems to imply that Horikoshi had no real intent on making this fight actually work with their combatants. This not only makes this exercise feel like it will ultimately be pointless, but as I said, it screws Deku out of getting to go plus ultra while everyone else got to show how far they’ve come.

One could say that seems like bias and that the point was to get shinsou to help with the vestiges, but that doesn’t fully work cause there had to be other ways than this to make it so Sjhinsou would have to work. I mean, this was that same problem I had with the overhaul arc at the end. It was gong fine until Ryukyu dropped in with a powerup for Overhaul and then deku had to use Eri like a power-up and it just became a cluster fuck. I’m not against twists mind you, all arcs need them, the one he did with Gentle was great in my opinion, but these twists overall hurt the story cause the story was going great up till now and we’ve entered cluster fuck land.

Now look, I’m not gonna let my own opinions impede my objective view point. This twist was built up to. As we saw with the mark on Deku’s hand as he used One for All in his sleep. The fact his quirk has been feeling funny, and the fact that All Might seemed curious about this. So I can not in all good conscious call this a bad twist, but it is still one I don’t agree with.

Other positives are definitely the characterization. Aside from us getting Uraraka getting to act like a savor, we get some great development for Monoma. My only issue would have to be the timing of it. He doesn’t do much this chapter. You’d think that this would’ve been used before Deku went all darkness on us.

So what will the final verdict be. Initially I was thinking of giving this a below average, but maybe because the more chew on to this, and the more I see others reactions to this, it seems this hits that uncomfortable spot of being up to the reader to tell if they liked it or hated it. And those are always hard because there is a fair amount of good and nothing I can call really bad, but that good really isn’t enough on its own so there is an enjoyment factor that can’t be accounted for. Kinda like Aquaman. So where do I stand on this? well I have to be honest with myself as this is my review and I gotta say.

Final Verdict: 5/10

This is something you need to experience yourself to really tell if you enjoy this twist or not

There is some good action and good character development

The pacing feels rushed and there isn’t enough time to fully show this off satisfyingly

I do like the ending

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let-it-raines · 6 years

Text

Betting on the Bullseye (Part 11)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes

Rating: Mature

A/N: Have I ever told you guys how awesome I think you are? Because I really do think that!

We’ve got some more fluff and some conversations and a baseball game. And in the next chapter, we meet the friends...dun dun dun :D

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91@branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“Oh my God,” Emma groans, swiveling in her desk chair and burying her face in her hands, hoping that if she doesn’t move away from the desk that maybe Ruby will get up and walk away. When she doesn’t hear any movement, she peeks up, opening an eye to see Ruby still sitting in the chair in the corner with an absolute smirk on her face. “Are you five years old?”

“No, but I just saw your boyfriend slobber all over you in your office like you two are horny teenagers, so I really think I’m the mature one in this situation.”

“First of all,” she begins, sitting back in her chair and tugging at the loose strands falling out of her bun, “it was not slobber. He is not a dog. That would be disgusting. Secondly, why the hell were you in my office? I feel like you’re never down in the therapy center.”

Ruby shrugs before she blows on her nails, the picture of nonchalance as always. “I don’t have a session for thirty minutes, and I wanted to see your sex glow.”

“You get creepier by the minute. Mary Margaret is obviously the better best friend.”

“Hey, rude,” Ruby scoffs, throwing the pillow she’s holding over at her only for Emma to catch it. “We are both equally good best friends. I am the fun one who convinces us to do things like skydiving or barhopping, Mary Margaret is the mom friend who doesn’t let us go home with creepy guys, and you, my little Swan, are our brutally honest companion who, despite your sometimes prickly exterior, is a wonderful mix of both me and Marg. And come on, how can you get better than being like me?”

“How did you manage to turn that from a quasi compliment about me and Marg to it being about you?”

“I’m a woman of many talents.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She turns to her computer, logging into her account and waiting for everything to boot up so she can answer the emails that she’s sure have come in since last night. “Why the hell do I have emails from people past midnight? Who is working at midnight and thinks, ‘huh, I want to come visit a children’s center?’”

“People who don’t sleep,” Ruby answers, getting up from the chair and perching herself on the side of her desk, the hem of her dress falling over her knees. “Speaking of that, I want to talk about how you didn’t sleep last night and still have this whole glow about you. You look refreshed, except for this whole hair situation thing you’ve got going on.”

“It dried all on its own and when I brushed it out this morning, it was like a frizzy bush. So the messy bun it is.”

“It looks like sex hair.”

“It is sex hair.”

“Ha,” Ruby laughs, slapping Emma’s shoulder, “I knew it.”

“Well, obviously, Rubes. My boyfriend just came into town after me not seeing him in weeks. What were we going to do? Have him sleep out on the couch after a quaint dinner full of small talk? Maybe a little handholding?”

“I bet you did all of that too.” She rolls her eyes, trying to keep her lips in a straight line. “Maybe.” “You know, I only ask because I’m the entire reason that you’re getting some. The world should thank me.”

“How the hell is that?”

“You met him because of me.”

“I got drunk and lost a stupid bet. You just happened to be…less drunk than me.”

“And then I picked your suitor for the night, who is now your suitor for…awhile? I’m not sure if we’re talking, like, the Nolans type of relationship or the Bachelor type of relationship.”

Her face immediately heats and she squirms in her chair, adjusting herself and suddenly finding a junk email about a sale on cars the most interesting thing in the world. She does not want to answer Ruby’s question, or statement really. She knows her answer, but saying it out loud seems like it’s too much too soon. She feels…a lot for Killian, her feelings teetering so close to love that she could easily be knocked over and fall head first in if she’s given the right push, but she doesn’t want to admit it too soon. She’s not sure where Killian is in that whole regard, but it’s not something she’s actively thinking about. They’re working how they are, and there’s no need for her to think otherwise.

It’s like what Killian told her this morning, just before Ruby apparently saw him “slobbering” on her, he makes her happy. It was cheesy and made her cringe a bit, but then she saw the emotion in his eyes, heard it in his voice, and she realized how sweet it was, how sweet he is. Killian’s had some screwed up things happen to him in the past, things that make her blood curdle that anyone could try to take advantage of a man who’d do anything for anyone, and he still has the ability to be that kind, if not a bit self-loathing when he doesn’t need to be.

Not that she has any right to call someone out for being self-loathing.

She pretty much has that one in the bag.

“So what’s lover boy doing while you’re working?” Ruby asks, obviously sensing that Emma did not want to talk about how long she thinks her relationship is going to last.

It’s forev…nope. She’s not going to even think it. That’d be crazy.

“I’m not sure. I gave him some suggestions on places to go, so he might go explore the city a bit on his own. But honestly with how tired he was, I’m thinking he’s going to go back to my place and crash before doing a bit of work.”

“Sounds like a hell of a vacation.” “I have Netflix and food. What more could he ask for?”

Ruby eventually has to go do actual work, as does Emma, her day passing by at a snail’s pace with little more to do than twiddling her thumbs and cleaning out her desk drawers. Some days are like this, slow and steady, something to do coming in every few hours, while others are nonstop, making her feel like she can never get a moment to breathe. If it were a perfect world, those days would blend together to make a day where she’s never overwhelmed or underwhelmed. To quote Gabrielle Union in 10 Things I Hate About You, she would just be whelmed.

(That movie came on twice in a row the other night, and she was too lazy to get up and find the remote to change the channel.)

But the world isn’t perfect so the rest of day goes by achingly slow with nothing to do, and like it’s some kind of karmic payback for her complaining about her day on Tuesday, Wednesday is a nonstop day that has her so frazzled she forgets to eat lunch and doesn’t realize it’s far past six thirty in the evening, nearly an hour and a half after she should have gone home, until there’s a knock at her office door and Killian’s standing there in a suit with two cups of coffee in his hands.

Oh shit. They were supposed to go out tonight. That’s what they’d decided on when she got home from work yesterday. He’d spent the day catching up on emails and reviewing new scripts even though he apparently promised himself he wouldn’t look at anything new for at least a month. So since he didn’t explore Boston last night, especially with the way they stayed in bed continuing to make up for lost time, they were supposed to tonight.

But she screwed it up.

She groans, throwing her head down against the desk and hiding her face in her arms, hoping that she can somehow go back in time and meet Killian back at her apartment when she was supposed to.

“I am so, so, so, soooo unbelievably sorry. Ah, fuck, I’m really late, aren’t I?”

“Well, you were supposed to be home two hours ago, so yeah, I’d say the fact that you’re still in your office means you’re pretty late.”

He doesn’t look angry or disappointed, the smallest of smiles gracing his face, and she wonders how the man who is on time for literally everything could somehow not be irritated with her.

She’s irritated with herself.

“How pissed are you at me?”

He hums, taking a step away from the door and making his way over to sit on the edge of her desk, his thighs spreading out and gray pants tightening with the movement. That’s not distracting at all. Nope. She doesn’t find the muscles in his thighs in any way attractive. She’s also a liar. “Well, I wouldn’t say pissed is the right word. I’d say more concerned.” “Why?”

He hands her the coffee then, and she notices the cups are from Iron Bank. He must have gone back there instead of going to Starbucks or something. “Because it’s seven, Swan. And I know you like your job, but I don’t think you like it enough to stay here because you want to. Not when you have a devilishly handsome date waiting for you, especially when he got all dressed up for the occasion.”

Killian’s waggling his eyebrows and smiling down at her, his hair coiffed up in a way that makes her know he put some effort into it, which only makes her feel worse. Obviously Killian doesn’t take as long as she does to get ready for a date, but still. He was at her apartment getting ready and waiting for her all while she was trying to understand why her Excel programming decided to glitch and malfunction and make none of the numbers align.

She feels like an awful human being.

“I’m sorry,” she whines again, saving the program and exiting out, figuring that she’ll fix it in the morning. She’s got to fix this now. “What time is our reservation?”

“At eight.”

“Okay,” she sighs, getting up from her seat and straightening out her pants, “if we break, like, every traffic law or maybe just make a run for it, we can get me home to change and then get there in time. Of course, if we just went to, like, one of my usual places we wouldn’t even need a reservation. So maybe if we don’t make it to Sorellina’s then we can do that. Or we can go and be late and hope they don’t give up our table, or I’ll just wear what I have on. This is fine, right?”

Killian chuckles, not even moving from his perch on her desk while she’s gathering up all her belongings, running through the scenarios again. Before she gets the chance to walk out the door, Killian grabs her wrist, pulling her closer so that she stands in between his splayed knees. Before she can even say anything, he’s pulling her wrist up to his lips and kissing right under her palm. Her eyes flutter closed at the touch, the contrast of the softness of his lips and harshness of his whiskers causing her skin to tingle the slightest bit. She didn’t realize how quickly her heart was beating, how heated her face was, but she can feel it all now as she cools off.

“Swan, calm down.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just…I’m sorry.”

“Love, do not apologize again.”

“I’m – never mind.”

He smiles, running his thumb back and forth over her wrist. “You lost track of time at work, something you do all of the time. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just a dinner reservation. I don’t care if we miss it. But luckily for you, I called and traded it out with someone else for a nine o’clock one.”

“You could have told me that before I felt like the worst person in the world, KJ.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have seen you sweat.”

“You’re not a kind man.”

“Never claimed to be.”

Traffic takes forever, the roads on the way back to her apartment seemingly staying at a standstill for over forty five minutes, but they do eventually get back to her apartment. Luckily, she washed her hair this morning, even curled it a bit, so all she really has to do is slip out of her blouse and pants and slip into a black dress she’s had for years. It’s a little tight, looks more like something she’d wear out to a bar, so she throws on her red leather jacket and favorite ankle boots to look a bit nicer. She knows that she has time to redo her hair and makeup, but all she does is flick on another line of eyeliner and reapply her lipstick before heading back out into the living room where Killian is typing away on his phone.

“Okay, I’m ready to go, though I think we might actually be early now.”

He looks up at her then, his phone dropped into his lap while his lips part and his eyes trace up and down her body. A shiver runs down her spine, something that happens a lot when he’s around, and she reminds herself that they absolutely have to go out tonight. She’s not messing this dinner up again.

“You look – ”

“I know.”

“And you say I’m cocky, love,” Killian laughs, looking back down at his phone and typing a few things in. “I’ve got an Uber coming to pick us up in five minutes.”

“I can drive.” “Aye, I know, but this way we don’t have to worry about parking or if we have anything to drink.”

“I like the way you think.”

It’s a relatively cool night as they wait outside for their Uber, so she’s glad that she grabbed her jacket, but they’re not outside long before loading up into Devin’s car as he takes them across town to Sorellina’s. She’s been in more Ubers than she should for someone who likes to drive herself places, but Devin is definitely the quietest driver she’s ever had. He doesn’t say much, just asking how their evening is going while they chat in the back, but she does notice him continuously looking back at them through his review mirror.

She has no idea why until they’re pulling up outside of the restaurant, and he asks, “Hey, are you?”

“Yeah,” Killian answers, quickly sliding out of the backseat and holding his hand out for her so that she can easily get out of the car. Maybe he is the gentleman he claims to be. Okay, so he definitely is. “Have a good night, mate.”

Before they go inside, she grabs onto his jacket sleeve, tugging at him to look at her. “Hey, is it okay that we’re out? I didn’t think about people recognizing you.”

“It’s fine, love.” He leans down and kisses her, making her forget her worries for the moment. “As long as you’re okay with the possibility of people seeing us together, I’m fine with it.”

“I’m fine with it too.”

“Good.”

Despite being fine with it, she does notice how Killian’s reservation is for a booth in the back, the lighting not as nice as it is everywhere else in the restaurant. But whatever works for him works for her, and she really doesn’t have any complaints about tonight. It might be a nicer place than she usually frequents, but that’s not going to keep her from having a nice time.

She gets a lasagna, though it’s definitely got a fancier name than that on the menu, while Killian gets gnocchi, which she definitely would have pronounced wrong if she had ordered it. Maybe she needs to expand her palate a little bit. But it’s fine for tonight. The food is good, the wine great, and even though she’s never been one for fancy restaurants, she finds it doesn’t matter when you actually like the person who’s sitting across from you.

Maybe that’s been the problem.

Or maybe the prices.

Probably both.

Definitely both.

“ – no, no, I’m serious. I won the spelling bee when I was in primary school. I was quite the little academic. Top five in my class, too.”

Killian’s been telling her all about his academic prowess and all of the clubs he was in when he was younger. He played a green bean in a play about how eating your vegetables is important, and she thinks that’s where he got his penchant for healthy eating. And maybe why he’s such a good actor.

“Who knew you were such a little genius, KJ?”

“I did. My entire life.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her wine to hide her smile. “So why’d you never go to college…or university? That’s what you call it, right? I know you moved here when you were eighteen to get away from…everything, but I bet you could have gotten a scholarship. That’s what I did. And a hell of a lot of student loans.”

Killian takes a sip of his rum before reaching up to scratch behind his ear, his lips ticking up on the right while his eyes squint. “Eh, it was the money, the fact that I didn’t know what to do. Liam had busted his arse to pay for me to live after he managed to get me into his custody, and I didn’t want to burden us anymore. I was good at manual labor, so if I hadn’t found the set building job, I think we would have both worked in construction. I like being able to work with my hands.”

Oh. She didn’t think of that. She should have. She went through doing it all on her own, worrying about finances and how to live, and she should have known that Killian did that too. She knows enough about his childhood to know how rough he and Liam had it for a few years. But sometimes the words just slip without her thinking.

“I’m sorry that I asked, if that brought up bad memories of something you didn’t get to do.”

“Hey,” Killian soothes, reaching across the table and twining their fingers together, his palm warm in hers, “it’s fine, love. It’s not a sad story or something I’m ashamed of. It’s my past, and I kind of like my job situation now. I don’t think I would have gotten it if I’d studied somewhere.”

“What…what do you think you would have studied? Hypothetically speaking.” “Then? English. Would have been dirt poor for my entire life, but I would have liked to have been a teacher. Now? Definitely acting. I’m pretty self taught, but the academic in me likes to always know more, to be learning.” He squeezes her hand before releasing it and moving it back to his side of the table. Sometimes she sees little flickers of darkness behind the brightness of his eyes, but he either hides it well or truly doesn’t let his past affect him too much. “But I don’t regret anything, Swan. I spent too long being bitter, and I’m not going to complain about how Liam and I made it here. Though, I would take having my mum back.”

“She’d be proud of you.”

“I’d like to hope so.” He smiles softly, almost sadly, and it breaks her heart like it does every time she thinks of Killian losing his mom, someone he very obviously loved with his entire being. “She’d love you. You remind me of her, actually, and not in some kind of weird, psychologists would study it, way.” “Well that’s good to know,” she laughs, messing with the leftover food on her plate so that she has time to process all of this. She kind of wishes she could have met his mom, too. Mostly she wishes that she was here for Killian. And Liam.

She may have never known her parents, may not know anything about them, but Killian knew his mom. He grew up with her and had to watch her die when he was ten. She can’t…she can’t imagine. But at the end of the day, she and Killian have both been left, abandoned by people who were supposed to love them and be there for them, so they understand each other. And she’s known that from the night they met when he shared with her that he’d been in foster care for awhile, something people don’t know.

He trusted her from the beginning, and that’s not an honor she takes lightly.

Oh God, she’s kind of thinking like him now.

“I just mean that you two are both bloody brilliant with huge hearts and a quick wit. And, you know, the ability to knock me back down to earth when my head gets a little too big.”

“So all of the time?”

“Aye, so all of the time.”

“All of the time, KJ.”

After they get the bill, she and Killian walk outside and wait for their Uber, not really wanting to walk around the area. She can feel the wine buzzing through her the slightest bit, not anywhere near enough to be drunk, but definitely enough to be a little wine happy. Killian wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her a little bit closer so that she can rest her cheek against his shoulder.

“You know, darling, I don’t think I tell you this enough, but I think you are phenomenal.”

“Hmm, I feel like you should just tell me that every day. You may not need to have an inflated ego, but I certainly can.”

“I’m serious, Swan. You’re a badass. The life you’ve made for yourself, all by yourself, it takes a strong woman to do that, and you deserve all of the credit in the world. And in case no one has ever told you, I’m proud of you.”

Oh shit.

She wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. Not in the slightest. And she’s not going to cry. This was supposed to be dinner, a night out that’s fun, not something that’s going to make her cry. But she doesn’t think anyone has ever told her that. Maybe Mary Margaret and David, but she’s not sure right now.

She’s barely able to even tell herself that sometimes, even if she is damn proud of herself.

And then another thought comes to her, the very one that was teetering on the tip of her tongue that she was trying to push down, and it nearly takes her breath away. She thinks she loves him. No, she does love him. She…expected it in a way, but really, in no way could she have ever expected this, expected him.

In no way could she have ever expected herself to even want to love again, not after everything, but she’s here and weirdly, she’s not scared of it.

Okay, so maybe she’s a little terrified, but the voice that’s telling her to run away is oddly quiet. Maybe it’s replaced by the sound of Killian telling her he’s proud of her.

She turns in Killian’s embrace and wraps her arms around his neck before capturing his bottom lip with her mouth, feeling the softness and warmth that always accompanies him. He gasps a little when her lips move, almost like he wasn’t expecting it, and she smiles into the kiss, not able to help herself from her teeth clanking against his before she moves back in with fervor, trying to let him know how she feels even if she can’t say the words yet, if she wants to hoard them and keep them to herself for now.

For tonight at least.

“Hey, are you, um, Liam Jones, who ordered the tan Toyota Camry with Madeline driving?”

She pulls back a bit when a girl yells at them from the restaurant’s driveway, her face red enough that Emma knows she’s been watching them for awhile. Oops.

She’s not at all sorry.

“That’s us,” Killian laughs, quickly kissing her once more before pulling back from her.

“Liam Jones? That’s definitely not your name.”

“Aye, I know, but this way if I ever get a bad review, it’s under Liam’s name.”

“But it’ll still be under your account. I don’t think that’s – ”

He dips his head and kisses her again, making her almost lose her balance on the sidewalk. “Aye, I know that’s not how it works, Swan. Let’s just get in the car and hope Liam doesn’t get a bad review from me not being able to resist you until we get back to the apartment.”

“I think the bad review might be worth it.”

-/-

“So who are we playing tonight?”

“The Orioles. If you’d come, like, a week and a half later we could have watched the Astros, but nooo, apparently you have schedules and things like that.”

“I mean,” Killian begins, wrapping his arm around her shoulder while they walk down Van Ness, the sidewalk crowded with people heading toward Fenway, even if tonight isn’t a big game, “I do occasionally have to work. Meetings and such. And family obligations.”

“Excuses, excuses.” She reaches over to pat his back, rubbing up and down in circles. “Have you ever been to a baseball game?”

“Aye, I’ve been to several Dodgers’ games.”

“Okay, better question. Have you ever been to a baseball game and not sat, like, behind home plate?”

“Are you asking if I’ve ever sat up in the cheap seats?”

“Yep.”

“Well, believe it or not, I was once a poor young lad.”

“From a poor family.”

“I don’t think Bohemian Rhapsody is really the song to quote here.”

“Okay, go on, go on.”

“So Liam and I, when we first moved to California, would go and buy the nosebleeds for the Dodgers, and go a couple times a summer. Yeah, we could have just watched on TV, but there’s only so much time you can sit in a small apartment with your older brother who was very hot and heavy with his girlfriend.”

“Elsa?”

“Oh no, this was long before Elsa. Liam was quite the ladies’ man when we first moved here.”

“Really now?”

“Oh yes, think about it. A British transplant fresh out of the Navy with those stunning Jones looks.”

“You’re either conceited or confident. I can’t decide.”

“Maybe a bit of both.”

They get to their gate, Emma pulling up the tickets on her phone and scanning them before going through. She thinks Killian gets a few weird looks, but he’s got on his aviators and a hat, which is obviously not a complex disguise or anything, but he says that it works, which is a really weird thing for her to think about. She sometimes (all of the time) forgets what he does for a living, or really, the consequences of what he does, even if that is how they met. But then they’ll be out and he’ll tug his hat down on his forehead or, like the other night, make sure their table is in the back corner of the restaurant.

After going through security, they wander around in the concrete halls, passing by all of the food and souvenir stands until they find the staircase to lead them to their seats. Only a few people are in their area, the stadium mostly empty, but she didn’t really expect anything else. She’s been to enough of these games to know that some games just are pretty empty. But it is Friday night, so as the first few innings go by, the score staying steady at one run a piece, people begin to filter in, the red seats slowly being filled with people as the sun sets over the stadium, coating the Boston skyline with pink clouds and a red sky that would almost look creepy if not for the way that there’s still light blue mixed into sky.

She looks to her left where Killian is holding up his phone, very obviously taking pictures of the sunset over the stadium.

“You are so basic, KJ.”

“Basic and getting a picture of this sunset.” He turns to her, holding the phone right in front of her face in what she knows is an unflattering angle. “Smile, love.”

“No,” she groans, covering her face and letting her hair fall in front of her eyes. She should have never taken her sunglasses off. “That’s going to look gross.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Killian laughs, pulling back and flipping through the photos where she pretty much looks like the girl from The Ring with a double chin and only one eye that opens, “I think these look pretty good.”

“Delete those.” “Oh no, I’m keeping them forever. Might even post them online.” “That is a threat that I do not like, and I will unfollow you. That’s one less like on your artsy pictures of your food.” “Oi,” he reaches over and pinches the skin on her inner thigh, “that was one time, and you won’t let it go.”

“You stood up over the table and turned your flashlight on to get good lighting.” “It was a good breakfast.”

“Sure, babe,” she laughs, placing her hand over his on her thigh. “I know you’re just a basic girl on Instagram.”

“Well, in that case,” he yawns, dramatically stretching his arm over her shoulder and yanking her closer, “let’s take a selfie.”

“Oh my God, you are so not smooth.” She can’t stop laughing, is sure that her face is heating from the constant movement, but that doesn’t stop her from leaning her cheek into his and smiling while he holds the phone up and takes several pictures. “But I like your basic girl tendencies.”

“Good, and now I have photos so I can scrapbook my big trip to Boston.”

“Stop,” she groans, burying her head in his shoulder while his entire body shakes in laughter underneath her. He is not going to make a scrapbook. That would just be…ridiculous.

“Never. You want something to eat?”

“Obviously, yes. I thought about just waiting until afterwards so I didn’t spend the money on the overpriced cheeseburger, but I want the damn overpriced cheeseburger.” She gets up from her chair, pulling her shorts up and making sure her sweater is still tucked in. “What do you want?”

“I was going to go get it, Swan.”

“Nah, my treat, KJ. You can stay here and watch this riveting game. There’s so much happening.”

“You say that and something will definitely happen while you’re gone. And I’ll just eat whatever you’re having, but with a water.”

“How do you know I wasn’t going to get a water?”

He taps his forehead, smiling up at her so that his eyes crinkle. “I just know.”

She rolls her eyes before grabbing her purse and maneuvering her way out of their row of seats, apologizing to everyone as she steps over them and blocks their view. There’s a concession stand just outside of their gate, so she quickly slides into line, pulling out her phone and scrolling through Instagram. Maybe she’s a basic girl of Instagram too.

There’s a picture of Leo at the top of her timeline. He’s holding a sign saying he’s going to be a big brother. She likes it, laughing under her breath. Maybe they’ve all fallen into the trap of being basic. It’s whatever. She likes the cute pictures. As she continues to scroll, she sees a hell of a lot of pictures of her old classmates from college standing in front of colorful murals, cheesy captions with them all, as well as one from Victor where he’s posted all of the used coffee cups in his office. Kind of gross but whatever. He works weird shifts.

And then suddenly there’s a picture of her. Well, kind of her. Or at least her hair. Her face is buried in Killian’s shoulder while he smiles at the camera. It must have been when he was taking the pictures and she couldn’t stop laughing. When she slides to the right, there’s a picture of the stadium with the sun setting over it. It really is a good picture.

KillianJonesOfficial: She knocks my (red) sox off.

Her cheeks immediately blush while she likes it, knowing better than to click on the comments. They talked about how things with them would likely go public the more they go out, and she said she was fine with it. She doesn’t necessarily like it, especially if there’s going to be the occasional person following her around, but she also doesn’t want to have to hide away in her apartment when they can go out and do things like this.

Though, Killian probably shouldn’t have posted this while they’re at the game. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.

She eventually gets to the front of the line, ordering their meals and waiting for them to be made until she’s got all of the junk food she needs (she’s definitely going to have to go for a run in the morning) and is making her way back up the stairs, hoping that she doesn’t drop everything while navigating the small aisles.

“Thanks,” Killian says as she hands him his tray and his water, holding down her seat so she doesn’t do something klutzy like fall on her ass.

“Mhm,” she hums, popping a fry in her mouth. As good of a time as she had at dinner the other night, this is her kind of date. “So, um, I see that you’re stealing my jokes for your captions.”

“You are not the only one to ever say that joke.”

“It was still my joke.” She eats another fry as Martinez hits a homerun, something finally happening in the game. Everyone around them cheers, a few wolf whistles thrown around, while music plays over the speakers and the hit is replayed on the jumbotrons. “But I’m glad I make you write cheesy captions. Aren’t you worried about people coming to find you, though? Isn’t that a thing?”

“Aye, but those girls down in front of us have been sneaking pictures of me all night. I figured it was just a matter of time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, love. I’m having a bloody good time even if this is the most boring game I’ve ever been to. I was expecting more from the team who beat my Dodgers for the World Series.”

“Ah, I get it now. You’re just salty that you lost.”

“Damn straight. I was at the game.”

“And things just make all the more sense.”

The game finishes a little before nine, most everyone having cleared out already, so as a breeze washes over the night, they make their way back to the parking garage she parked in a few blocks over. Most people are beginning to settle into bars and pubs, a Friday night just beginning for most, and when she suggests that they go to a pub, Killian almost falls out on the sidewalk talking about how his ass hurts from sitting in tiny plastic seats for three hours and how he absolutely cannot sit on anything that’s not a soft cushion. When she teases him about thirty-three hitting him early, he doesn’t say anything, stretching his legs out only for his knees to pop…and then to pop again when he settles down into the passenger seat of her car.

She doesn’t say anything then, just silently reaches over and pats his thigh while they wait in traffic to get out of the garage. He grabs her hand only to put it down and reach over to take her left wrist in his hand, quickly kissing the inside of her wrist. She doesn’t know why he does that, but she’s noticed it over the past week. It happens about as often as he reaches up and scratches behind is ear, and it makes something inside of her flutter. She’s not sure if anything in her body is supposed to flutter, but something does.

Maybe one day she’ll ask him why he does the wrist thing.

Maybe one day she’ll tell him she loves him too.

Once they get away from Fenway, the traffic thins out and it’s a quick drive home, Emma easily pulling into her parking space in front of her apartment and grabbing her bag of work clothes out of her backseat before unlocking the front door of the building and taking the stairs up to her apartment with Killian behind her.

“I’m going to go take a shower, okay?”

Killian nods as he settles himself down on the couch, and she quickly makes her way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat while she strips away her clothes and tosses them into her hamper. It’s been a long week, and as much as she loves having Killian here, she hasn’t gotten nearly as much sleep as she usually does. She really likes her sleep.

It’s probably the fastest shower of her life, just a quick rinse off of the sweat and grime collected at the game, before she’s hopping out and wrapping a towel around her chest and in her hair so she can wash her face. She usually does a face mask once a week, and she’s definitely neglected that this week and can already feel herself breaking out. So she slathers on the cream, covering herself in the green mask before sliding on pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt.

When she walks back into the living room, she plops down next to Killian, who is watching Live PD for some reason. Kind of weird but it’s whatever. One of her favorite things about him being here are discovering his weird tendencies that she doesn’t get to see when they’re apart.

“How was your shower, Jim Carrey?”

She turns to look at him, and he’s smirking at her, his lips ticking up to the right while his eyes slant. “What now?”

“Jim Carrey,” he repeats, waving his hand in her face, “you know, like the Mask?”

“Oh my God,” she groans, having to restrain herself from hiding her face in her hands so she doesn’t mess her mask up while it dries, “I knew I should have stayed in the bathroom until I wiped it off.”

“Yeah, that was a horrible mistake on your part, love.”

She chuckles, leaning down into the cushions and watching someone get pulled over for driving without a license or a license plate, which is definitely not a smart move. She lets out a large breath, her stomach extending with the movement. Another thing about Killian being here is that she’s eating a hell of a lot more and going to the gym less.

And sex only counts a little. She’s not going to be one of those weird people who says their gym is the bedroom. Like, why are there people who not only think that but who feel the need to share it with others?

“Do you want to get up and go running in the morning?

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you still going to be wearing that mask? Because I’m just not sure I can be seen with you looking like that.”

#betting on the bullseye #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic

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huntertales · 6 years

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Part Three: Knight In Shining Armor. (LARP and the Real Girl S08E11)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate the mysterious deaths of two LARPers who were engaged in a game involving an actual fairy. While digging deeper into the game, the boys discover the queen of Moondoor is a familiar face they met just a few short years ago, an I.T. woman named Charlie Bradbury. Word Count: 6,381. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You were the type of person who didn’t like to talk about themselves too much or spill your guts to a complete stranger. You enjoyed your privacy and even kept a few secrets from the boys. It was just the nature of being a hunter. But there was something about Charlie and her personality that had you feel comfortable around her, like you’ve known her for your entire life. She felt like one of those people you could instantly bond with. It also helped with the fact that she wasn’t someone with the last name Winchester or a hunter. She was just a normal person who happened to know about the supernatural. And of the same gender as you, which was a bonus. You didn't know how long it'd been since you got to hang out with someone that wasn't a man. Charlie reminded you a lot of Josh, your best friend from back home. You and her started talking the second Dean turned his back and started to make his way out of the tent. You were getting out of your fed clothes while you talked to Charlie about how excited she was to meet you, prompting you to start chuckling. To you, meeting the very woman who had been the reason why the boys managed to help take down Dick Roman, the monster you were fortunate enough to have never met, was a chance for you to say thank you. You swore you could hear Charlie blushing when you did so. She didn’t linger too much on her glory, she wanted to know more about you and how you tricked the boys into thinking you were dead. The story required a bit of backstory; you told her about the gory details she willingly asked for that landed you in the hospital, beaten to a near inch of your life with one less finger. You could have made a full recovery and got almost full mobility of your finger, but you didn’t want that. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin and be someone else for a change. When you said it out loud, you felt a little weird telling it to an outsider who didn't live like you. Who grew up with a parent who controlled every aspect of your life, whose life was planned out for them before they were even born. There was so much to the story, but you just met Charlie and you didn't want to scare her with the bitter details of your life. The redhead seemed to understand the feeling. She ran off and was trying to live as someone else, after all.

"Let me recap so I can wrap my head around this. Sam and Dean thought your body double, which was just a shapeshifter possessed by a demon, that you killed—with a broken arm and missing finger. Even more of a reason why you're my idol." Charlie tried to summarize the story you had been telling her over the past few minutes. You smiled to yourself at her remark as you stepped out to finish getting ready. "Anyway, they thought this double was really you this entire time? But a friend of yours put some kind of spell on you that made you temporarily someone else? Like some kind of supernatural witness protection program?"

"Sort of. After Dean took down Dick Roman, it got messier than anyone thought. He was sent to purgatory for a year. It’s an afterlife for all the creepy and crawly. Sam was left...well, alone. All of his family was gone." You said. You felt yourself momentary overcome with the guilt that always kept creeping out of nowhere when you started to think about the decisions you made. And if things might have been different if you stuck around. "Well, not completely. He found a woman he fell in love with and settled down for that year with her in Texas. Everything seemed to be going well for him...until Dean came back.”

You told Charlie about how the boys were tracking down a lead from a past situation that happened while you were still presumed dead. While the boys were in Michigan trying to track down Kevin on his girlfriend's college campus, Dean found himself accidentally bumping into a woman who wasn't looking where they were going. The woman happened to be you. A dead neighbor and a possessed husband you were pretending to pose as for those two years ended up making you remember who you were. But that wasn't the end of the story. It was just the beginning, and you had still so much to tell her.

You continued on by telling her about how Dean found a friend in Purgatory named Benny Lafitte, a vampire who helped him get out of the place. And how this friendship put a real damper in the brothers relationship. You were stuck in the middle of what the right thing to was. The boys spent weeks going back and forth about the situation. While you stood in front of the mirror and adjusting your outfit to make sure it look decent, you went on about how a hunter and Sam was ready to kill Benny. And then the part where Dean hit below the belt, and you willingly went along with it.

"You let Dean send Sam a phantom text from his ex?” Charlie repeated the infamous move that you were regretting to this very day. Your expression faltered slightly as you stare at yourself with a frown in the mirror. “Dick move, ma'am."

“Yeah. Not my finest hour of being his best friend. I'm still kicking myself for doing that. To be fair, Sam was really getting under my skin that day.” You made a half attempt at defending yourself while you started to smooth out the burgundy top that was similar to hers after you complained the first one was too tight. As your hand slid down your stomach, that’s when you nonchalantly spoke of a secret you’ve been guarding from anyone. “And my hormones have been all of the place lately because of the baby."

You went on for a few seconds without realizing the exact words slipped out of your mouth until you caught Charlie’s expression in the mirror. An eerie silence fell between the both of you, giving you red flags that was making you start to panic. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”

“Do you have any shoes to go with this? Heels aren’t probably the most logical option.” You cut off the woman before she could try and linger on a topic that accidentally slipped out from your mouth. You turned your attention over to Charlie with a blank expression as you waited for her to offer you up something. But she just sat there with a sort of smile on her face. You swallowed slightly, knowing damn well you weren’t going to get out of this one. “Yes. I did say baby. As in...you know. Pregnancy.”

"Oh. Wow. You are. Really? Well, then a congratulations is an order. That's amazing! You...don't look so happy. Oh, no. Not good?" Charlie found her excitement slowly starting to change when she saw your not so much of one. Suddenly she wondered if this was one of those situations she'd luckily never have to worry about. "I'm guessing this isn't good. Which is okay. Not everyone wants to be a mom. Totally understandable. Screw what society tells us women what to do—”

"What? No. No, I am excited. I'm over the moon about this. It's just..." You found yourself trailing off when you realize that maybe you were oversharing just a tad bit too much information about your personal life. You gave the redhead a small smile. "Here I am going on about my problems like I've known you forever. Even though we just met today. You probably think I’m a weirdo. And I would have no problem if you did. Obviously."

"I think a lot of things about you. But weirdo? Far from it. I mean, yeah, we just met...but this is gonna sound totally strange, I know. But you ever meet those people where you just feel super comfortable around them? You're one of those people." Charlie admitted her own feelings to her, causing her to feel the same embarrassment you had just once before. You felt your smile grow a little bit wider, giving her reassurance the feeling was very much mutual to her. "I mean, I understand if you don't want to tell me anything else. I'm sure you and the boys want to keep this a secret—"

“Dean doesn’t know yet.” You suddenly felt yourself blurting out even more information about the secret you really should have done a better job at keeping it, instead you were telling everyone you came across. Except the baby's father. Charlie's eyes grew wider. "Sam does. I told him after he was trying to figure out what to do. It was the reason why I couldn't support him being with Amelia. And I'm kinda afraid that's the reason why he stayed. To make sure I'm okay. And the baby. I haven't told Dean yet because he's not good with...this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?" Charlie asked. "Babies?"

"No. I guess...normalcy. Family. It's sort of the reason why he didn't want Sam to be with Amelia. I'm sure he would say, 'In this life, you can't afford attachments. You just got to let go.' Which is complete crap. I mean, him and I have had our fair share of downs. But we're still together." You said. You looked down at the ground for a second before back at Charlie. "I think Dean always thought it was just gonna be the three of us. Now...there's one more. And I'm not sure why the hell I'm so scared at breaking the news to him. But I can't tell him. Not yet."

Everything normal and good that Dean Winchester ever got crashed and burned in his face miserably. His happy life was ruined at the age of four by his father when John decided to uproot the boys and forced them into this lifestyle. Dean was mentally brainwashed into taking the bare minimum of what he deserved for the sake of looking out for Sam and saving people by the monsters he was taught to hunt. Much as this lifestyle turned him into the perfect little hunter his father would be proud of, there was still a human being, a little boy who was forced to grow up too fast that still needed to be loved. To be cared for. And you tried your hardest to give everything he ever missed out on. Even on the things you couldn’t when he wanted it.

Part of the reason why you were afraid to tell Dean he was about to become a father was because of more than just his harsh upbringing. It was also because he tried to be a father figure just a few short years ago. He was great at being a figure to Ben Braden to look up to, but it proved complicated when the lifestyle of hunting came back to drag the poor kid and his mother in danger. The exact thing Dean tried his hardest to make sure it didn't happen. While Ben was unharmed, it was Lisa who suffered the consequences and nearly lost her life.

Even during your time hunting together while Dean was playing house and you were back from the cage, there was a fraction of time where you thought you were going to be a mother to a shapeshifter baby. While it was short, you didn’t know it was going to end in misery, you thought about the future and the baby you would be raising today. Not to mention Emma, the daughter that came out of a mindless hookup, who turned out to be a monster that died from a bullet to the chest.

Dean's track record with kids wasn't exactly the best. His own insecurities would probably eat him from the inside out from all the things that might go wrong. What kind of terrible fate his child would suffer years down the line because of him. He might even fear about the idea of raising a child on his own if something happened to you. What if he ended up being like his own father and forced your child into being the way he was? You had to remind yourself that these thoughts were just fictional, theories that your brain come up with from its own anxiety. For all you knew Dean would be over the moon, exacted as you were at the idea of having a family. But the possibility to see how his reaction might be would just have to wait for another day.

After you spilled your guts and the truth she had been anticipating over, you finished getting ready and putting on the final details of your outfit. You had to admit going into this you were a little bit skeptical, but looking at yourself in the mirror, you were sort of digging it now. Sometimes hunts and cases required you to dress in costumes that were painful and stupid, but this was something you could get apart of. You didn't think you ever had this much fun on a hunt before. And Charlie seemed like a friend in the making who was a good listener. The both of you filled the silence with random conversation to pass the time before you heard footsteps approaching the curtains to the tent, along with a familiar voice coming from behind the fabric.

“Permission to enter, your majesty?"

You found yourself growing a smile as you shook your head at how Dean was really committing himself to this whole going undercover for the hunt. You knew he intrigued by all of this from the very beginning, but you weren't going to make fun of him. He needed a bit of fun. Charlie played along and granted him access. A few seconds later the curtain was pushed aside and stepped in Dean, who was out of his fed clothes and into some that were more suitable for the time period. If there was one thing you took away from his outfit, it was how good he looked. No matter what he wore, Dean always managed to pull it off.

“Oh look.” You said with a playful tone of voice as you dropped your hands back to your side after you finally stopped fidgeting with your outfit after it felt more comfortable on you. “It’s my knight in shining armor.”

Dean fussed around with his own clothes the accessories that paired with it to get it more used to them. When he found himself looking forward in your direction to see what you had gotten into, he momentarily froze in his actions, seeming taken back at your own transformation. “Wow. Y/N,” He muttered underneath his breath as he approached you. You rolled your eyes as his began to move up and down your body. “I gotta say. You look...” “If you say ridiculous I’m gonna punch you in the face.” You warmed the man when you thought his silence was his attempt at trying not to laugh. “This was all Charlie’s idea. Don’t make fun of me because I can’t pull off this look. I was gonna wear something else, but it didn’t fit me.” “That's not exactly what I was gonna open with. I was gonna say you look extremely hot.” Dean said, freely making a compliment they would have felt awkward of Charlie was still lingering around. However it seemed the redhead has already made her way out of the tent to speak to her people. Dean approached you as he gave you a smile that could always make it feel like it was going to leap out of your chest. He grabbed your hand into his own and lifted it up, and ever so gently, placed a kiss on the back of the skin. "I could never disrespect a woman so beautiful and sophisticated as yourself. After all, it’s not very noble to treat the queen whose heart I'm after."

“Is that so, my dear knight?” You raised your brow as you played along with the little game that was going on between the both of you. "Well, in order to even consider the possibility of courting me, you'll have to prove yourself of how brave and strong you are. And even then I'll have to consider spending my time with someone beneath me in status. Think of the scandal it’d cause. Daughters of royalty weren't married off to knights.”

“I didn’t think rules applied to you. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve loved you from afar for so long.” Dean said. “But I swear my loyalty to you and only you.”

“You, my love, are a huge dork. And I can’t picture anyone else I want to spend the rest of my days with.” You mumbled to the older a man as you felt your lips stretch into a smile. "Let's get out of here before the real queen has our heads."

The both of you headed out of the tent and back to the grounds to see if you could find the redhead among the crowd of people passing by. Dean lingered behind you so he could switch out the sword covered in memory foam for a real feeling one, wanting to get more into character. And you had a feeling he couldn't pass up the opportunity to walk around with a sword to pretend it was the real thing. You declined one for yourself when he offered, causing him to mutter underneath his breath that it was your loss. You furrowed your brow slightly, wondering how much he was going to deny being into this role playing game until he gave up. Much as you wanted to tease him, you were having a bit of fun yourself.

While you waited for him to slip the wooden sword into his belt for safekeeping, you found your gaze lingering off the man and to a stranger when you heard a voice coming from in front of you. There was a man, who had to be your age, or even a little older, greeted you with a friendly smile. It was hard to make out some of his features due to the hood drawn up. You returned the gesture out of politeness. However you could feel it growing when you noticed his outfit looked like he spent his time stealing from the rich to give to the poor. He took it as something far different from the way he approached the conversation.

“Good day, my lady. I don't believe I've seen you around these parts in Moondoor before." He said. You knew damn well what he was trying to do, and while it would have been easier to turn him down, you were too amused to stop him from making a complete fool of himself. "And I would remember a face fresh and sweet like a picked red rose."

"Hey, Robin Hood. She's with me." Dean jumped into the short lived conversation before you could politely excuse yourself. He stepped forward so he was next to you, placing a hand on your lower back and rested the other one on his waist, close to the wooden sword. As if it was a subtle threat that might have been used in this century. "Why don't you do us a favor and use that Shakespeare line on someone else?"

The man ignored Dean's rude behavior as he kept his focus on you. "Is this fopdoodle bothering you, madame?"

"On the contrary, this gentleman is courting me. I’m afraid my heart belongs to only him." You declared. You saw the look on the man's face slowly beginning to fall when he realized that you were in fact in a relationship with the person who he just called stupid in more modern terms. He wished you a good day as he walked off, not wanting to cause any trouble before he could end up with a black eye. You rolled your eyes as you turned your attention over to Dean, who looked nothing short of pissed off as he watched the man disappear into the crowds. "Please don't tell me you're jealous, my surly knight."

"That douche just called me...whatever the hell it was." Dean grumbled. You reached out and wrapped your arms wrapped your arms around his before leaning yourself against him as the both of you started walking again. You saw another man dressed in similar colors as yourself flash you a familiar smile, you returned the gesture before focusing your attention forward.

"These losers mistake friendliness as flirting. Out in the real world they would never have the guts to talk to someone of the opposite gender. But here, they're different." You said, trying to cut some slack for the folks who didn't leave very exciting lives. Their anxiety and lack of social skills confined them to this fantasy world where they could be free and someone else. "They're confident. They can fight battles and save the damsel."

"Yeah, well, I'm warning you now." Dean muttered underneath his breath. "If one of them tries anything besides a pick up line, I'll knock them out."

You let out a quiet laugh at his aggressive behavior and squeezed his arm, reassuring him there was nothing to worry about. You were very much capable of protecting yourself against a couple of nerds in their costumes. The both of you finally caught up to Charlie, who had been momentarily speaking to someone before they walked off. You waved your arm in the air to catch her attention, Charlie smile as she returned the gesture. However the redhead found herself going back to her royal duties when a subject passed by and gave her respectful greeting and bow to the queen before going on her way.

"Sorry for falling behind. Someone was busy trying to find Excalibur and then nearly ready to flog someone to death." You said. Your excuse made Charlie give you a slightly confused look at what happened while she was gone. You shook your head, not really wanting to get into details as the three of you started making your way across the grounds. "So, I've been meaning to ask, have you always been into LARPing?"

“Nah. For role-play, I prefer a tabletop. D&D, Gamma World, Car Wars. That’s why Cthulhu invented multi-sided dice, right? But a buddy of mine was into LARPing. Went for him, stayed for the chucks." Charlie said. You laughed quietly as she followed behind for a moment. The smile that crossed her fast last long as it appeared before it slowly faded. "It's not just that, though. It's an escape. I mean, here, I'm a queen, a hero. Out there in the real world, I'm just hacking out code and chugging coffee all day long."

"Now, wait a second." You said. You stopped in your tracks as you reached out an arm to grab a hold of Charlie, making her do the same. "If it wasn't for you, the boys would have never been able to take down Dick Roman. Out there in the real world, you are hero."

Charlie couldn't help herself but start to grow the slightest smile at your compliment, feeling as if it was an honor to hear such a thing from you. You returned the gesture before your attention was drawn away from her when a female spoke up, addressing the woman by her royal title. Along with yet another flirty smile with the proper bow. Charlie found herself momentarily distracted by the pretty face before she returned her attention back to you. You raised your brow slightly and gave her a curious look at how much attention she was getting from her fellow followers.

“I’m noticing a lot of these maidens are checking you out.” Dean muttered. He gave the young woman a slightly suggestive look at the options she might be able to choose from, and what her secret was to attract so much attention without even trying.

“How come you get the cute girls making flirty eyes with you and all I get is dudes in tights and this one being my guard dog?” You asked her, pointing over your shoulder to the man standing behind you from his behavior just a little earlier.

“What? I can’t shut this down.” Charlie said, smirking to herself. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you felt yourself smiling at her excuse. “It’s good to be queen.”

You couldn't help yourself but let out a chuckle at her proud attitude as she headed off. Charlie was beginning to become quite the fun person to hang out with while the three of you went around talking to people dressed as all sorts of fantasy beings. You didn’t have very much luck with people figuring out what the symbol was you found on both of the victims arms. But when you approached an elf to see if she might know anything, unfortunately she didn’t. All though someone wouldn't have call it a complete loss. Charlie worked her magic when she grabbed the photograph from the elf and started to subtly flirt with the woman.

“Well, if you think of anything, come see me in my tent. Anytime.” Charlie said to the elf with a smile that you've seen so many times before. The elf gave the queen a flirtatious wink before heading off back into her travels. When she was gone, you shook your head at Charlie's fun she was having. "Scratch the elves off the list."

All of you continued on your quest to talking to the different groups around here to see if you might be able to know anything. So far nobody had a clue what it was, but there wasn't hope to be lost. You still had one more group of species to talk to, but they were the queen's enemy. And a needle in a haystack to track down in this place. They might have been your only chance at figuring out what was going on here if Sam wasn't going anywhere with the leads, but you weren't going to lose hope just yet.

"Shadow orcs." Charlie mumbled. "Last group on the list, impossible to find."

“Wait, I know where we can find one.” Dean said, remembering the one he spotted in the stocks. "Y/N and I met him on the way in."

“Perfect. Maybe he can tell us what the fack this thing is.” She said, gesturing a hand to the picture of the symbol that was causing all of you a hell of a lot of trouble more than it was worth.

It wasn't too hard to find the shadow orc, he was still in the stocks where you last saw him after you arrived. While you had seen nothing but admiration and affection for Charlie, but it seemed not everyone would bow down to the queen. Because something in this little game wanted to have the throne. But you could still feel your emotions being tested at the not so nice things the orc was shouting out when he saw Charlie approaching.

"Death to the queen! Death to the usurper! Death to her manservant!" The orc went on with his threats that were meaningless as he was dangerous in the real world. In the game he was an opponent who wanted to take down the queen for her throne. Dean responded to the not so kind words by taking out his wooden sword and smacking the orc right against the head to make him grow quiet, the orc ever so quietly growled before your dirty look caused him to grow silent.

"What?" Dean found himself being scrutinized by Charlie from his actions that weren't exactly nice. "Well, there's no laptops in Moondoor. There's no geneva convention, either."

"Hey." You said, grabbing the man’s attention. You reached out and pulled the photograph from the pouch that was looped around Dean's belt to show the orc. "Have you seen this?"

"Yeah, of course." The orc answered. Your response of a look of surprise at how easy you got him to crack caused him to realize that he had accidentally spilled important information that you and the queen might find useful. "No. No, I haven't seen it." He tried to backtrack, but there was no use. Dean placed the dull wooden blade up to the orc's throat, pretending to threaten him if he didn't spill the rest of his answer. "Okay, it's the shadow king's family crest. You'll never find him in the Black Hills."

"Black Hills?" You repeated the fictional location as you looked over at Charlie to specifically find out where it was.

“The forest behind the playground.” She said. “Come on.”

You and Dean wasted no time in following behind Charlie to see if you might be able to find the group who might have been the source to everything of what was going on. While the three of you traveled farther away from the park and started walking on a path that lead you deeper into the woods, you found a familiar face approaching you. You could feel a sigh building up in your throat at the dweeb who wasn’t much help to you and the boys when you arrived. You hoped the costume change to fit better into the setting would make him think you were playing along with the rules. He didn't seem to pay much attention to you, his focus was solely on the redhead, the queen he was fictionally sworn to protect and respect.

"My queen. There you are. I've been searching everywhere for you. Has this...oaf attempted to harm you with his blasphemous metalworks?" The knight’s attention was drawn to Dean and his outfit that seemed like a perfect target to make fun of, considering his own was much better. You forced yourself to give him a smile when he looked in your direction, all you were fighting the urge to roll your eyes. "And my lady, I see you've found a more suitable attire."

"Boltar, they're with me. This is Dame Y/N. My most faithful and well trusted knight from many lands over. She's come to join the honor guard. And this is my new..." Charlie felt it was easy to come up with a lie for you that was perfect enough to fool her fellow knight, but she struggling to come up with a decent one for the older Winchester standing next to her. "handmaiden."

"Pleasure to be acquainted with you once more, sir." You greeted the knight, returning the slight bow when he did the same to you after learning of your title. You pretended to play the part to fool him into thinking you were here to have a little fun. "I must apologize for earlier. My travels have made me and the queen's...handmaiden weary. I came here fast as I could after hearing of the terrible tragedies that have been plaguing the kingdom. Like yourself, good sir, we're here to serve and honor the queen during these troubling times.”

"We seek an audience with the shadow king." Charlie said, stating the reason why all of you were here

"Uh, these hills are not safe. I beseech you, my queen,” Boltar spoke up in a cautious and slow voice, knowing he was overstepping his power as a knight to dare so tell what the queen to do. But it was her best interest for her safety. “You should return to camp."

"I believe he's right, your majesty. May the handmaiden and I have a moment with you before you take your leaving, madame?" You asked the redhead. She nodded her head and followed your lead when you turned around so your back was to Boltar, giving you a bit of a private conversation. "Handmaiden and knight? Huh. Talk about role reversal."

"He was suspicious." Charlie whispered. "I panicked."

"All right, look. You take my phone. Find Sam. Y/N and I'll find the shadow dorks." Dean said, handing the woman his electronic device that would have been forbidden. You looked over your shoulder while the exchange was happening to give Boltar a friendly smile, hoping he wouldn't notice. Charlie thought she could be more of use, but you would rather have her back at camp and out of trouble. "Yeah, you are helping by finding Sam. Go.”

Charlie wasn't exactly pleased with the plan, but you didn't give her much of a choice when you lightly shoved her forward to start walking back. When you started to see her making her way down the trail once more, you and Dean turned back to get this plan in motion. "Lead the way to the orcs, Bolty."

"Speak when spoken to, handmaiden." Boltar said, reminding the older Winchester of his very insignificant role. "This matter is for those who are qualified to handle such dangerous matters."

Dean could feel the grip around the handle of the wooden sword tighten until his knuckles turned white. You couldn’t help but snicker to yourself when Boltar turned around to start walking in front to lead you and Dean into the hideout of these orcs. The older man felt out of his element here with a title that wasn’t powerful as he hoped for. Nevertheless, the three of you worked together in the queen's absence to track down someone in the woods and ask them about the photograph. Twenty minutes of walking through dead leaves and broken branches turned out to be a waste of time. It seemed the only souls around were just the three of you.

“Well, that was a bust.” Dean said. “You sure the shadow orcs are even out there?”

"For a handmaiden, you certainly ask many questions." Boltar said. It seemed he wasn't used to such chatter from someone that was supposed to look after the queen's personal needs. "Yes, I am positive. They're just very good at hiding."

"What if we're going about this all wrong? I mean, why are we wasting our precious time trying to track down the shadow king? Why don't we have him come to us?" You asked. “What if we take the shadow orc being held in stock and offer him as a prisoner exchange?”

“Draw him out and beat him down.” Dean said. You nodded your head when he guessed your plan, making him grow a smile at how quick you were engaging yourself in this, and how you were coming up with a plan that even he would have never thought of. "I like your style.”

"Boltar, retrieve the prisoner. Handmaiden, tend to the queen's laundry and chamber pots. Meet me back here when your tasks are completed.” You instructed both of the men. Boltar nodded his head as he walked off to begin the task while Dean gave you a look, causing you to shrug your shoulders. You took a moment to scan the campgrounds in hope you might find the redhead, however you spotted Sam, who was approaching you and his brother with a smirk of amusement. "Ah, it's Sir Samuel.”

Sam wished he had a camera right now to take a picture of you and Dean from how ridiculous you looked so he could remember this longer. "Nice outfits."

"Laugh all you want, Sasquatch. But this has been kinda fun." You said. "I know you're jealous."

"Right. Well, while you and the Handmaid's Tale were playing dress-up,” Sam said, pulling open his jacket to fetch out a piece of paper from the inside pocket. “I found out that the mark—”

“Belongs to the shadow orcs.” Dean cut off his brother.

“Yeah.” Sam said. “And they’re using fairy magic.”

You grabbed the unfolded piece of paper from Sam to see that it was a printed article with the familiar tree on the very top middle of the page along with information about it. You skimmed the paragraph to get a gist of what you were dealing with. "The tree of pain. Awesome."

"Whoever gets marked gets ganked." Sam explained. You folded the piece of paper back up and asked him how you stopped this thing before someone else fell victim. "Find whoever cast the spell, and take them out. No more whammy, no more marks. No more marks, no more dead bodies."

"Okay, well, perfect. Our pal Boltar the chatty is getting the shadow orc prisoner. We're gonna do a little prisoner exchange, try to draw the king out of hiding. It was all Y/N’s idea.” Dean said. He felt himself growing the type of smile that you saw when he thought something was impressive or funny, but it seemed Sam wasn't. You rolled your eyes as Dean peered over his brother's frame, wondering why he couldn't find the familiar redhead behind him like he thought. "Where's Charlie?"

“She’s with you.” Sam said.

"No, we sent her to you." You corrected the younger man. You ignored the younger man's look of disbelief at your idea of letting the woman out of your sights. You didn't let yourself panic just yet as you started to call out Charlie's name as you headed to her tent, pushing back the curtains and peered inside. But there was nobody there. "These damn pants don’t have any pockets. I knew I should've brought my phone. She has Dean's. Try it, Sammy.”

Sam pulled out his own phone and dialed his brother's number and waited for Charlie to answer. But he didn't get a single ring, only an automated voice telling him that the number he was trying to reach was out of service. Which wasn't a good sign. Not a good sign at all. You knew you shouldn't have let Charlie out of your sight and walked her back to the campgrounds. If you did, maybe none of this would be happening, and you didn't put the queen you swore to watch over in danger.

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originaljediinjeans · 5 years

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MCU Rewatch: “Black Panther” (2018)

Summary: *Deep thematic discussion,* “lol that thing is cute,” “I love Shuri”, “wait a minute, I’m white, am I the bad guy?” *Shameless Killmonger shaming* *Bucky angst* “Seriously what is up in Wakanda?” *more deep thematic discussion* “look at this and this random cute stuff” *more Bucky angst* “White Gary Stu is an important character, in this essay I will--” *tries not to get into discussing racial issues that I know nothing about* *fails*

Actually, Okoye and W’kabi already DO have a kid: it’s the rhino!!!!! XD

Young T’challa in the prologue asking his father about the story of how Wakanda came to be and why they hide from the outside world--that is a kid trying to understand why the world is the way it is. And that is something that T’challa is still trying to grasp when we fast forward to present day. Even then, T’challa’s experiences in Civil War have already opened his eyes to the struggles in the outside world and the suffering of innocent people.

King T’chaka is VERY imposing in that flashback scene

The issue of Bucky Barnes is palpable in the subtext of the conversation between Nakia, Okoye, and T’challa when they bring Everett back with them from Korea, if nowhere else in the film. Anyone seeing BP for the first time after CACW would be aware of the context. Obviously Barnes is not a concern to them at the moment because he is on cryo and has one arm. Okoye probably had an easier time swallowing T’challa wanting to help Bucky because he was a fugitive who would not be safer anywhere else and he was framed for a crime he did not commit, aka killing the previous king. She might have thought it was fair, in fact, for T’challa to make reprimands for attempting to murder the poor thing. Everett Ross is a white man also but in completely different circumstances that Okoye very pointedly outlines: he is a foreign intel operative, and if they let him live and leave Wakanda then he will tell the rest of the world what they saw there (unless the Wakandans have some kind of brainwashing tech of their own--maybe they’re too humane for that but why wouldn’t they? Or just leave Everett unconscious in Shuri’s lab until he recovers and then when he’s ready take him outside the border and leave him there to wake up). Okoye is basically saying, “Look, T’challa, Barnes was one thing, helping this guy is a terrible idea because he is more likely to betray us if we let him live.” But to Nakia and T’challa it makes no difference: Everett is a human being, if they have the means and resources to help Everett recover then they should help. Is a person’s life really worth less than an entire country’s safety? Shuri’s jibe “another broken white boy” serves to burst the bubble of that tension.

No, seriously, T’challa put the kimoyo bead into Everett’s wound and offered to take him to Wakanda and Okoye’s face was like WHAT

I’m just gonna call him Everett to differentiate him from Thunderbolt Ross. Maybe Everett the Leveret.

Okoye doesn’t care who she kills. She serves her country and whoever in her mind is legally the king. Anyone who is a threat to the throne that she is sworn to protect she will kill--”Without question.” It’s not that she doesn’t value life, but she values her oath as a member of the Dora Millaje. Her country, her people, her monarch: those are her priorities.

But would she have been happy afterward about if if she had been forced to kill her own husband? Clearly she was conflicted about working for Killmonger, and as soon as she found a loophole she broke ranks and took all the Dora Millaje with her. She does not want to support a monarch who will cause Wakanda to commit needless bloodshed in the rest of the world. The other Dora Millaje saw how ruthlessly Killmonger murdered Zuri and then threw T’challa off the waterfall: they are not here for it.

If the new king of Wakanda wants to get into international relief, then Okoye will stand by her king.

*smh* T’challa and Nakia flirting on the job. I’m not saying they shouldn’t do it. By all means, continue.

Just putting this out there: a film or mini-series about Nakia or Wakanda’s foreign operatives would be pretty sweet

Also, it’s nice to see Lupita N’yongo and Andy Serkis in roles that aren’t motion-captured. They are both incredible actors and having them did so much for this film.

The assault and robbery at the museum in London must have taken at least weeks of planning.

I like how Queen Ramona wears a full-length gown with a fuller skirt to T’challa’s coronation. It’s still African in decoration but it’s a little more “European” than what everyone else is wearing. I guess in Wakanda the queen has the luxury of wearing a dress with that kind of skirt.

Dealing with the loss of close family members is a theme throughout the film. The main Wakandan characters put aside their grief for King T’chaka for T’challa’s coronation, and I assume it was healing for T’challa to see his father again on the ancestral plain. But learning about his father’s covered mistakes shakes his perception of what his father was and how he ruled--how all the kings and queens before him ruled. And he has to address his grief again. T’challa decides that the best way forward for himself and his county is to change how Wakanda does things with the outside world.

I don’t really like Shuri’s upgraded suit for T’challa. The purple nano-energy is kind of unsettling, or maybe I just don’t like how it looks against the black. I also don’t like how it tears up whatever clothes T’challa is wearing. But I understand why she did it.

On that note, Shuri is a princess, and that is WHY she has the time to do whatever she wants, and I just think it’s fun that she used her time to further her education during her teen years and go into technology research. It’s kind of like how modern royalty are advocates for the arts and certain pasttimes, but on the next level.

Apparently, some of Shuri’s technological advances (esp. the trains in the vibranium mine) have been pretty recent.

Also, Shuri is a multi-tasker, and she’s probably always working on six or seven projects at a time. And she’s not afraid to do more. She starts on one, puts it aside to work on another, and while she switches between tasks she thinks about how to do the others. This girl is...way ahead of everyone. Especially me. But I’d love to be friends with her. IDK how to make her not see that I’m just another “colonizer” but I’ll figure it out.

“Shuri calling people “GENIUS!” when they get on her nerves.

She’s territorial about her lab.

Another point about Shuri: other Wakandans’ kimoyo beads might have a certain set of functions, but Shuri probably programmed hers to sync to everything she touches

My dad commented while watching that the potion that strips away the power of the heart-shaped herb is “nasty stuff.” No shucks, Sherlock.

Gosh, I hate Killmonger. He is so smug, he is so condescending to everyone he meets. He is so convinced that he’s right that when he first enters the throne room he acts like he’s already won the challenge and become the king. He only wants to build a “Wakandan Empire” to satisfy his own angst--how much does he even care about his “brothers and sisters”? He is convinced that every person in the world is his enemy. EVERY. PERSON. Including me. Including T’challa. Including the aunt and cousin he’s never met. Including the white guy in the fridge he doesn’t know about. Erik is next-level messed up. He’s just the worst.

(I’m white--am I supposed to take the discourse that “white people are evil” personally?)

“Hey Auntie.” Every time I hear that line I want to break through the fourth wall and slap him.

I mean, only a really heartless person would not feel sorry for the trauma that Erik went through when he lost his dad. And deep down, I sympathize with Killmonger’s anger, and I have such a rigid way of thinking that I admit that I am tempted to wonder about righting the world’s wrongs with violent means. Is he right that white colonizers ruined the world for Africans? Yes. But no, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth leaves the whole world blind and toothless.” Punishing the “class” of people who have “wronged” the “oppressed” only furthers the cycle of pain and suffering. And pain and suffering are not limited by wealth and status and nationality. Solving the world’s problems isn’t about putting others down, it is about pulling people up and letting them heal. That is why T’challa’s strategy of international outreach is the right one.

Which is why the post-credit scene with Bucky is actually relevant to the film as a whole: he was the first person in need that T’challa and Shuri were able to give to. T’challa choosing to help Bucky paved the way for deciding to share Wakanda’s resources with the less fortunate in the world.

(I’m saying that to myself like I’m angry that Bucky is there at all. It’s called having a mental illness that wants to destroy the things I care about the most. Like there’s this demon in my brain that wants to agree with the extremists who think that Bucky and Everett were “valued” more than Killmonger. Killmonger let himself die because he had the same outlook that all white people are scum and refused to open himself to the possibility that he was wrong--unlike T’challa.)

“This movie vilifies African-Americans and puts native Africans on a pedestal.” SCREW THAT CRAP. Killmonger was as much a victim as he was a villain. And T’challa and his entire country got called out for not helping other people of African descent across the world. Gosh *rrrgh*

Having the heir to the throne available to be challenged by the heirs of the other tribal leaders was part of the inter-tribal agreement of how to govern Wakanda. It’s supposed to make it “fair” to the different groups, including the Jabari. That probably implies that the tribal council members are interrelated to each other and the royal family since the monarch has been chosen from different ruling families and they would have intermarried to keep their status--the fact that T’challa has an on and off relationship with the daughter of the River Tribe chief kind of validates that theory. Which tribes were Ramona and T’chaka part of? I’m curious.

I’m not sure how much contact the Jabari have with the rest of Wakanda but I’ll bet M’baku enjoys sending the reigning monarch passive-aggressive letters or something like that.

I am a huge fan of T’challa’s black robe that he wears on his first day as king.

I really hope the heart-shaped herb grows in the wild

(I wonder if average Wakandans have access to the heart-shaped herb, maybe for medicinal uses)

It is interesting how falling asleep into the trance from the heart-shaped herb is depicted as having flashbacks to the death of the new king’s predecessor/father. It’s kind of like falling asleep IRL and your subconscious slowly takes over.

T’challa dragging M’baku to the edge of the waterfall during their fight was a gutsy move. But I still think T’challa is a Hufflepuff.

T’challa does not like to compromise. It’s kind of unsettling to watch him talking to Everett in their first two scenes: it’s like T’challa thinks he is dictating actual reality while Everett still insists on what is real.

Yeah, Everett, I hate 80s music too. Klaue probably listens to some real garbage.

I hate that they had to kill off such a great villain and he was being so villainous, but I think the screenwriters felt like that was the only way the Wakandans would let Killmonger into their country, War Dog tattoo or not.

I am just...really soft for the border tribe rhinos, okay?

I’m not sure how much Ulysses Klaue is pretending to be crazy and how much he’s been actually off his rocker since Ultron tore off his arm but after this viewing I’m pretty sure it’s mostly pretending. It is convincing, though.

Did W’kabi ever get counseling after his parents’ deaths?

...actually, does Wakanda even HAVE psychotherapy/counseling like the rest of the world does? Or do they count on technology and medicines to fix all our mental health and emotional problems? You’d think they would have counseling. You’d think they have everything we have except better, but what if they don’t? You’d think that could have been an option for Bucky, except he was so afraid of being triggered by his own shadow.

I have, like, a lot of questions just about how things are done in Wakanda in general

Like they have access to foreign films and the rest of the world’s internet. The world just can’t tap into them. They see us but we can’t see them. Wakandans know what the outside world is like but they don’t bother about getting on the same page.

T’challa and Shuri are a great team, I want to see them in action together more in the future

I like the jacket that Okoye wears in Korea

In all fairness, Everett Ross is used to being the man in charge, and T’challa is a challenge to his authority. From T’challa’s perspective, he is rude and abrasive, but that’s why he does what he does. Even though T’challa is the king of another country, that doesn’t change anything in Everett’s playbook. Everett acts the way he was trained: he tries to speak up because it’s his job to inform people about his interpretation of the situation, he helps out Okoye and Nakia during the car chase but that’s because he’s after Klaue too so he might as well. He volunteers to help overthrow Killmonger--”hey, you’re going to need all the help you can get”--because he knows as well as the others that if Killmonger can carry out his plan then it could create a global catastrophe. His background info on Erik Stevens informs T’challa and company that Killmonger was not a good person, nor did he have good intentions being in Wakanda.

I don’t really like how Shuri kind of puts Everett down: “broken white boy”, “colonizer,” “I know everything about you plus I’m smarter than you so you do as I tell you because you’re a stupid outsider”. I get it, it’s supposed to be justice for hundreds of years of white people treating Africans like this. So me being white, naturally, it makes me uncomfortable. But I don’t see why it’s nice, even if it is cute. It’s like she’s treating him like a pet hamster, or a rabbit or a hare...a baby hare...a leveret.

How am I supposed to know that Shuri doesn’t see Bucky Barnes as just another fun science project? Or just a favor she’s doing for her brother? That’s my jealousy talking, but I think those are questions worth asking.

I’m glad that Shuri recognizes Everett’s skill as a pilot. But she barely explains to him what he’s supposed to do when they arrive in the laboratory--and then she and Nakia hurry off to change into their battle costumes (and Shuri does her hair and makeup, too). Did they not go over the plan in detail and explain things to the noob beforehand?

Zuri had a lot of survivor’s guilt. I don’t blame him but it’s still really sad. You didn’t have to do that, sir.

Even if the Jabari did eat white people, Everett Ross would be just a snack to them.

I kind of like the casual button-up outfit that Everett wears for most of his Wakanda scenes. I think that’s the sort of thing I’d like to see Bucky wearing while he’s in Wakanda

My mom says that in the scene where we see T’challa reenter the throne room she saw M’Baku in there. Really? Was Everett Ross there too?

M’baku is a much nicer person than we give him credit for being. But he really is kind of a drama queen. An he’s just rude. He’s cool but like, come on, man.

Seriously, when he teases Everett about eating him, Ramona, Nakia, and Shuri all give M’baku a look like, “Dude, he’s with us, not now. This isn’t helping.” : /

I’m definitely sticking around for the Black Panther sequel to see how M’baku and W’kabi continue to complicate or uncomplicate things for T’challa

I love how T’challa was shown taking the time processing the news that his father had killed his uncle and how Nakia was helping him through it. It’s like Ryan Coogler understood something that the writers and directors of Captain Marvel did not...

The Queen Mother doesn’t do much in the film but she shines in the scene where she administers the herb to her son. She knows the ritual, she knows how to prepare the herb, she knows just what to do.

“We may be creating a bigger monster with M’baku.” I just LOVE that line. When I was in college I went to the English symposium, and I went to a panel on Frankenstein. One of the papers discussed the relationship between the creator and the creation, and one of the examples the author used was Iron Man 2 and the relationship between Tony Stark and the “monster” that his father created. And the theme runs through the entire MCU and here Ramona Says the Thing Out Loud and it’s amazing.

Golly, that must’ve been a fun hike, up steep trails and slippery ice to Jabariland with a white guy who has no idea what’s going on and thinks he needs to be in charge. While you’re suffering from the fact that your son/brother/ex is most likely dead. Were any of the ladies tempted to just push him off a cliff? Well, I’m glad they didn’t because that wouldn’t have helped their cause.

OR MAYBE: Everett, because he is a nice person, helps the ladies climb up the steep, secret mountain trails safely, he lets them lead the way because clearly he doesn’t know his way around; he and Shuri help Ramona out because she is older, even with Wakandan treatments for aging joints and arthritis she’s still a little stiff, and Ramona tells him “Thank you” and looks him in the eyes when she does so. He catches Nakia when she slips on ice, “Thank you, but I am sure I can take care of myself.” “I know you can, ma’am. Just watch your step.” Everett wishes he and the others had better hiking gear and warm coats instead of just blankets. Shuri and Nakia catch Everett when he falls at least twice: he’s still recovering from his gunshot wound, and the altitude is getting to him. Everett and the three women don’t talk that much while they are hiking, they hold hands and pull each other up while going up the steeper trails. Getting up the mountain takes a team effort and Everett is a part of it.

Nakia; “You know, Okoye wanted to just leave you to die.” Everett: “That’s comforting.”

Of course I get the symbolism of Killmonger and T’challa fighting in the vibranium mine--that mine is literally everything that Wakanda is built on.

“Please stay--I know a way you can still fulfill your calling.” Nakia is like, okay, I’m not sure I believe you, lemme just kiss you.” T’challa is so soft I can’t even.

It is so cool that there are so many female lead characters that are powerful and influential. AND they’re warriors, how cool is that? I respect Nakia, Shuri, and Okoye so much. I might have more in common with them than I realize. More likely, they’re the ideal I should work for. Goes to show how badly I need a sequel.

The reason I like Black Panther so much is because I am white and this film gave me a way to empathize with the black experience. One of the superpowers of fiction is to be a medium to help us discover empathy for others.

It’s like what T’challa says to Steve Rogers in the Civil War mid-credit scene: his dad and the man framed for murdering his dad were both victims of a greater evil. Skin color, wealth, political status--there is nothing that makes that commonality invalid. And T’challa knew that he and his long-lost cousin Erik had a lot in common in spite of a lifetime of not knowing about his existence.

Every character in this film has a story that is beautifully told and I am here for every single one. (Maybe not so much Killmonger and Klaue)

If it’s not too much to ask, though, please be kind to Everett Ross, he is doing his best. He didn’t have to help T’challa take back his country, but it was his job anyway and he knew what T’challa and Nakia and Shuri were up against. (Plus they needed a gosh-darn pilot). T’challa, Nakia, and Shuri refusing his assistance because he was an ignorant outsider would have defeated the entire point of the the story. He is a better person for his experience in Wakanda, and the world is a better place for T’challa having saved his life at all. Everett is, at the very least, a role model for stepping up.

Everett also reminds me of a smol and determined epaulette shark--but then again, he’s played by the same actor who played Bilbo Baggins.

I GUESS some feedback on this post would be helpful. There are some parts where I need to be more blunt about my perspective in order to express my thoughts. Also my feelings about Bucky are kind of not in a good place right now.

#black panther movie #mcu rewatch #wakanda #shuri #killmonger #t'challa #Everett Ross #bucky barnes #meta #headcanons

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redgreenbluesforloco · 6 years

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Daisuke, Takahiko & Nobunari (3BK) Interview on QuadAxel Pt.1/2

This interview didn’t feel long when I read it, but it sure as hell does now that I’m trying to translate and format it, so I’ll split it in half :P

Some notes: I’ve honestly no idea how Takahiko came to call Nobunari “Naru-kun” but it’s adorable and I refuse to alter it, so Naru-kun = Nobunari. I had to let myself use lol and ahahaha for laughter (it’s what the magazine editors did!). Haven’t had anyone proofread it for me yet so there might be some minor edits later. Part 2 here

The Vancouver Team: An everlasting bond

Daisuke Takahashi, Nobunari Oda and Takahiko Kozuka, eternal friends and rivals who helped popularize the sport, discuss the first time they met, their memories of the Vancouver Olympics, future plans for their skating careers. [summarized intro]

Thank you for granting us this precious opportunity today. Is this the first sit-down with all 3 of you since the 2009 program (Figure Skating Opening of the Season Special by TV Asahi)?

Dai: Oh, is it?

Nobu: Yeah, we haven’t had one since then, right?

Dai: I guess not.

Taka: Right. Do you remember on that program there was a question about what Doraemon items you wanted? And when I answered, “The Dictator Switch” [“Dokusai Switch” a switch to erase the existence of bothersome people], you both went, “Wow, how scary!” lol.

Dai: I don’t remember.

Nobu: I don’t remember.

Takahiko: I remember very well.

Dai/Nobu: Ahahaha LOL

Anyway, I would like to start by asking you about when you first met. Between the 3 of you, were Takahashi-san and Oda-san the first to meet?

Dai: Wasn’t the first time we met at that competition in Kyoto?

Nobu: Yeah, the Western Japan Elementary and Middle School Championships.

Dai: Yeah! That was the first time I saw Nobu.

Nobu: Yeah, that’s right. My impression back then was, ‘Wow, there are some talented guys coming from Okayama.”

Dai: And then I started to commute to the Takatsuki rink, and we started talking in the 1st or 2nd year of Middle School.

Nobu: Yeah, it was around that time we started getting closer [talking more intimately].

What did you call each other back then?

Nobu: Everyone was already calling him Dai-chan back then.

Dai: What did I call Nobu back then?

Nobu: Didn’t you call me “Nobunari-kun”? Yeah, it was “Nobunari-kun” lol. Back then, Dai-chan already had the status of a junior champion. When his music came on during practice, everyone would scramble to get closer to the walls, like “I’ll get in trouble if I get in his way.” So I already had the image of him, like, “Wow, what an amazing person.” But even so, I still called him Dai-chan lol.

Dai: Everyone called me Dai-chan.

Nobu: Yeah. And then I think I first saw Takahiko at the Novice Japanese National Championships (1998). He’s two years younger than me, so he was in the Novice B championships. That was the first time I caught a glimpse of him.

Taka: Yeah.

Nobu: I had been hearing people talk like, “Kozuka-san’s son is so talented,” so I thought, “Ah, so this is Kozuka-san’s kid.”

Taka: When I first met Naru-kun it was at the Osaka Junior Nats (1999). You were there, right?

Nobu: Yeah, I was! I was eliminated from the preliminary rounds after the short program. My first Junior competition, I ended up 27th lol.

Dai: Ahahaha lol

Nobu: That was when I performed at a Junior event by invitation for the first time coming from Novice, and I was so excited to compete in Osaka, I ended up putting too much energy into everything and screwed up all the jumps lol.

Taka (looking straight at Nobu): You kinda always did that, you put too much energy into it lol.

Nobu: Yeah, yeah! That’s why I’m skating better now lol. Way back then it was like I’d get too tense.

At that time, were you at a point where you’d share lodgings and meet at competitions and stuff?

Nobu: I went to a competition in Belgium with Takahiko. That was my first international event.

Taka: Oh, that’s right.

Nobu: Takahiko had already gone to many international events and knew how to get by overseas, so he taught me all sorts of things. I was just about to start high school and I was studying for the entrance exam. While we were abroad, he’d always sit next to me and tutor me.

Dai: LOL

Nobu: I’d be like, “I really don’t get math!!” lol.

Dai: Really?

Nobu: He was always in my room, solving my math problems for me. He’d teach me math the entire time.

Dai: LOOL

Taka: I’d get lonely on my own, so we’d just stay together the whole time lol

Nobu: Takahiko’s mother (Coach Kozuka Sachiko) and my mother (Coach Oda Noriko) were really close, so we’d often have meals together, too.

Taka: We had waffles too, right?

Nobu: We did, we did!

Taka: They wouldn’t let us give any to the girls. We were told that it was only for the guys.

Nobu: Yeah, that’s right! We were with Aki Sawada and Nana Takeda and the others.

Dai: Ah, that’s nostalgic.

Nobu: Yeah.

Taka: And everyone’s gotten married already. It’s been a long time. And then, the first time I met Dai-chan at a competition, it was in Croatia, right?

Dai: Right. With Hirokazu Kobayashi and others.

Taka: Hirokazu was a senpai from my rink, so I became friends with Dai-chan through him.

Dai: Right, starting from there.

And when did you first start to become aware of each other as rivals?

Nobu: It was the season after I won the Junior World Championships (2005). Even if I wasn’t really aware [of a rivalry], people around me started comparing me to Dai-chan.

Dai: There was also the fact that it was the Torino Olympic (2006) season.

Nobu: And that spring I got into the same university (Kansai University), so that drew even more attention.

Dai: Right, yeah.

Nobu: And, when I was asked, “Who is your rival?” I’d answer, “It’s Dai-chan.” Because I knew that was the answer they were looking for lol.

Dai: And that was when we started appearing in competitions together more often.

Nobu: Right, yeah.

Dai: There wasn’t a lot of overlap during Juniors right? Because I went to Seniors early.

Nobu: We didn’t overlap at all.

Taka: At what age did you rise to Seniors, Dai-chan?

Dai: I think I was 16?

Nobu: At the Kyoto NHK Cup (2002) when Dai was competing, I was really excited to go and root for him. I was yelling, “Go, Dai-chan!” with everyone else from the rink.

Dai: Hahahaha.

Nobu: Now that I think about it, I didn’t run into Takahiko much at Junior competitions, right?

Taka: There was some overlap, but I messed up a bunch of things, so it was very scattered. I played soccer too much, I did too much warming-up…

Nobu: And you forgot your costume…

Taka: That was at Nats, actually!

Nobu: At Nats, huh!

Taka: Yeah, the Nagoya one (in 2006). That was so bad, man.

Dai: Ahahaha LOL.

As Takahashi-san and Oda-san were being called “rivals,” Kozuka-san joined in, and the three you of you went on to fight fiercely against one another for a long period of time. Looking back, what are your thoughts now?

Nobu: We were always told that we were “in a fierce battle against each other” but that’s not how it felt to us, right?

Dai: Right, yeah.

Taka: Yeah.

Nobu: Dai-chan was always great at the interpretation and steps, Takahiko had amazing skating skills, so what I felt the most was that I wanted to absorb their skills.

Dai: We were at the same rink so we had a lot of opportunities to watch each other train. When you notice the other person is working hard, it makes you work hard, too. So it was good to receive that kind of stimulation. The thing is, when it’s time to compete, you can only think about your own performance.

Nobu: Right.

Taka: Yeah, that’s right. When we were together in competitions, we weren’t that aware of each other, it was more when we were in different competitions and I heard someone got good results that I’d think, “I better do my best, too!” That was often good motivation for me.

Nobu: When I found out that people from other sports, both men and women, don’t speak to their rivals that much, I was surprised. After I retired, I realized that in figure skating the atmosphere doesn’t get tense like that.

Dai: That’s true.

Nobu: People are so surprised, like, “Wow, you get along really well.” And for us that was just normal.

Taka: Yeah, that’s normal.

Nobu: That’s why when people asked me about rivals, I think my true feeling was that it didn’t quite make sense.

Was that because you’ve been seeing each other often since you were little?

Dai: And I think it’s also because our sport isn’t 1 vs 1 [there is no direct confrontation].

Taka: Because it’s an individual competition, yeah.

Dai: You get your results from what you do on your own.

Taka: Since it’s a competition where judges decide the scores, it makes it easier.

Dai: Right, since other people are giving you the scores.

Nobu: Yeah, that’s right.

Dai: And it’s whether you yourself were able to get good results or not.

Taka: Sometimes you get results, sometimes you don’t. When you do, you’re happy, when you don’t, you’re sad…

Nobu: It’s all your responsibility. It felt more like fighting against yourself.

Out of the many competitions in which you were all together, which one left the biggest impression?

Dai: For me it was probably the NHK Cup in Nagano, when the three of us got 1st (Takahashi-san), 2nd (Oda-san) and 3rd (Kozuka-san) places.

Taka: In 2006, right?

Nobu: Right, all 3 of us skated the FS clean! I went after Takahiko, and I saw that he did so well and I thought, “Aaaah, I better work hard!”

Taka: That was when I came in 4th in the SP. Chengjiang Li was 3rd.

Dai: Chengjiang Li! Ah, that takes me back!

Nobu: I wonder how he’s doing these days.

Taka: Back then, during the press conference, somebody asked, “Are the rumors that you’re practicing a Quad-Quad true?” And he said, “Yes, I am.”

Dai: Seriously?!

Taka: Really!

Nobu: That time in Nagano, Takahiko and I went to the bathhouse every night, didn’t we?

Taka: Oh yeah! We did lol. We asked Dai-chan, “Won’t you come?” and he said, “My body feels sluggish, I’m not going.” Lol

Nobu: Oh yeah, yeah, we got rejected, didn’t we! We got rejected and went by ourselves lol.

Dai: LOL. Oh, but there was also Vancouver (Olympics 2010), of course.

Taka: Vancouver was so much fun.

Nobu: I have some hilarious memories from after the competition was over lol

Dai & Taka: LOL

Nobu: We kept using skype nonstop lol.

Dai: Even though we were right next to each other lol.

Taka: I was using Skype, and Dai-chan was like "What's that?" So I set it up, and it was like, "let's try it out, let's all try it." "There is also a chat function." "Let's try that, let's!"

Nobu: Even though the distance was like this [measures with his hands].

Dai: LOOL We were right next to each other!

Taka: Yeah.

Nobu: And we kept using the chat but somehow we were silent. No one would say anything.

Taka: We would just talk through the text chat instead.

Dai: Yeah, we were just quiet the whole time!

Nobu: That will always be funny lol

Taka: It was so funny, right? lol

Nobu: And then we went to the Olympic village to stuff ourselves with McDonald’s lol.

Dai: It was like, "Do we go?!"

Nobu: What time was that? It was quite late wasn't it. I feel like it was the middle of the night.

Dai: It was.

Taka: It was like 3 or 4AM.

Nobu: Yeah, yeah!

Taka: The McDonald’s was open 24/7, so we went to grab a bite.

Nobu: It was so much fun.

Dai: So much fun.

Taka: And then when we were going to support the girls at the ladies' event, we put on face-paint lol.

Nobu: We did, we did lol.

Taka: Dai was going to write Japan on his cheek, but he wrote it backwards lol.

Dai: LOOL Because I was writing it while looking in the mirror so I got it wrong!

Nobu: And we were like, "No, Dai-chan, no! It's wrong!" lol

Taka: Yeah, like, “That clearly just says ‘today’!” lol

Dai: “Today” LOL

(T/N: 日本 (Japan) backwards becomes 本日 which means “today”)

Was there a service in the Olympic village where you could get your face painted?

Nobu: Well, we decided we all wanted to paint our faces, so we bought art supplies and did it ourselves in the men's bathroom of the Pacific Colosseum (Sports Arena).

Dai: Wasn't it Takahiko who went to buy the art supplies?

Taka: Yeah!

Dai: That was a lot of fun. And at the closing ceremony there was a ball flying around for some reason lol.

Nobu, Taka: Ahahahaha yeah!!

Nobu: Before I knew it, we were chasing after it LOL. It was so cold that day, right?

Taka: Yeah, at the closing ceremony it was freezing cold.

You three chasing the ball in the closing ceremony became a hot topic among fans.

Dai: Really?

Nobu: I didn't think they would film that!

Dai: We didn't know, yeah.

Nobu: Chasing after a giant ball...

Taka: Like it was Sports Day or something.

Dai: We were running after it with all our might lol

Taka: We were so hyped up.

Nobu: Now that I think about it, we were so innocent when we did that, right? Even though we were all over 20.

Dai: Ahahaha I was well over twenty lol.

You were able to make such good memories because the three of you were able to go together, isn't that so?

Dai: Yeah, that's right.

Nobu: I don’t think we could even imagine not going together, all three of us.

Dai: Yeah, and not doing all this weird stuff lol.

Taka: Yeah, we wanted to go together.

The season before that (2008-09) was when Takahashi-san sustained an injury. What kind of effect did that end up having on Oda-san and Kozuka-san?

Nobu: That year there was the Worlds in Los Angeles (2009, when the number of spots for the Vancouver Olympics would be decided). Back then, I went thinking that we had to get the 3 spots also for Dai-chan’s sake. But then I just crashed and burned; I jumped too many times, and it was like, “Oh, crap, this is bad!”

Dai & Taka: LOL

Nobu: And then Takahiko really put in the work for us. Somehow we were able to save the 3 spots by the skin of our teeth, because our combined placements were exactly 13.

Taka: We were 7th (Oda) and 6th (Kozuka). That was really nerve-wrecking.

Nobu: If either of us dropped a spot, it’d be hopeless.

Taka: I was in the last group at the time, and Naru-kun was the last of the 3rd group.

Nobu: Yeah, yeah! And I thought I’d skated clean!

Taka: You even did a fist bump and everything.

Nobu: I jumped too much...

Taka: I can never forget the look on the coach’s face when you came back.

Dai: LOL

Nobu: And then I just watched the last group kind of like in prayer. It was such a feeling of relief when we just barely secured the 3 spots.

Taka: The Worlds from the year before (2008) was in Sweden and that was my first appearance at Worlds. And the year before (2007), it was just Dai-chan and Naru-kun, right?

Dai: Yeah, it was in Tokyo.

Nobu: Ah, I remember!

Taka: I was in the audience rooting really hard for you guys. And then Naru-kun found me and was like, “We got the 3 spots for you, kiddo, so do your best!”

Nobu: I wasn’t really in a position to say something so arrogant lol.

Taka: But I was thankful you worked so hard.

Dai: He worked hard.

Part 2/2 posted here: Their thoughts on the popularity of men’s figure skating, what they admire about each other, their views on their careers after retirement, plans for the future, how to contribute to the development of the sport, Quad revolution, Pyeongchang Olympics, what kind of ice show they would create if given the chance.

#fstranslation #Forever3BK #3bk #Takahiko Kozuka #daisuke takahashi #nobunari oda #vancouver olympics #2010 Olympics #Quadruple Axel

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nolookfive · 6 years

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i will be your home, keep you warm when it’s cold

okay so! this one is for @dmigod because i wanna make her cry, @fourdrinkamy for giving me the idea to roll with the life calendar thing and also @elsaclack because i had a mental block and then i went back to read her fics and motivation hit me like a ton of bricks so thank u wizard em! cya later if you wanna yell at me for this then you know where to find me.

Jake doesn’t understand how his life manages to find loopholes to screw him over. He’s been through pain before; the pain of his father leaving, the pain of being separated from Amy for six months in the inexplicably cold heat of Florida, the pain of being separated from Amy again in the hellhole that was prison. He knows Amy felt that same pain; she told him about it one Tuesday night after a long stressful day where nothing was going right and an emotional breakdown was on the cards after Scully spilled a jar of coffee beans everywhere.

He knows she felt it. And he knows, just like him, she hasn’t felt this type of pain before. And he wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, ever.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Exactly seven months and four days after their wedding, Amy sits on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the counter impatiently. Her hands twitch, resisting the urge to reach up and twist her hair into wild braids.

It wasn’t as if they didn’t want children. They’d had that talk well before they got engaged. It was more the fact that Amy wanted to at least become a lieutenant before they even considered trying. Jake was aware of this and fully understanding - he’s been around her life calendar for years now. He knows what her plan is and he respects it.

But things on her life calendar haven’t necessarily gone fully to plan. Marriage was further down the line and that happened sooner than she expected. And a baby? Well, to be fair, they hadn’t exactly been very safe lately. By the time her second alarm went off at 6:45am, Jake’s hands would already be tugging her underwear down her legs, his lips ghosting over her neck.

“Who cares if we’re not at work on time?” he’d mumble as her third alarm went off, capturing her moans with his lips. The only problem with that third alarm, though, is it would be the same time she takes her birth control. And when she’s preoccupied in...certain ways, she tends to be just a little bit forgetful.

But this is first time she’s been over a week late.

She lets out a huff, standing up to see how much longer she has to wait when he phone lets off a jarring ring, signalling the end of the two minutes. She quickly turns it off and takes a deep breath, reaching for the small white stick when suddenly the bathroom door opens and Jake comes barreling in.

“Hey babe, have you seen my-” he stops, his eyes immediately drawn to the packaging next to the sink and the test just out of Amy’s reach. She stares at him, panic setting in as she watches him process exactly what she’s doing.

“Is that - is that what I think it is?”

Amy swallows. “Yeah.”

“Is it - I mean, are you-”

“I - I don’t know. I was just about to check.”

He can tell she’s freaking out, her eyes as wide as a deer in the headlights. He cautiously takes a couple of steps towards her and reaches for her hand, his thumb running circles into her palm. She looks up at him then, her heart slamming against her chest, and she thinks about this minuscule piece of plastic sitting behind her, potentially holding a result that could change their lives.

“Hey,” he says softly, his other hand stroking up and down her arm. “It’s okay.”

“I...” she starts, then shakes her head. “If it’s positive - I mean, the life calendar-”

“Amy, the life calendar hasn’t exactly gone to plan, has it?” he interrupts, holding up his left hand pointedly, a plain gold band sitting on his ring finger. “I mean - we wanted this to happen at some point, right?”

“Right, but-”

“But what?”

“What if I can’t do it?”

Jake stares at her incredulously. “Are you insane? You’re Amy. Remember that jar of Armenian pickles Charles had in the fridge last week that he claimed was impossible to open?”

“Are you seriously comparing this situation to Charles’ lack of strength?”

“Oh my god.” Jake rolls his eyes. “The point is, you did what no one else could. You’re strong as hell. And if you think you can’t do that,” he points to the test, “I know you don’t like being told you’re wrong but in thiscase, you’re wrong.”

She studies him for a moment, then closes her eyes and leans against him, her forehead resting against his collarbone. “It might not even be positive,” she mumbles.

“Only one way to find out,” he replies, “do you want me to check it?”

“Yeah.” He pulls away, kissing her forehead and reaches around behind her, picking up the white stick. She’s scared, anxious, nervous, and somehow excited all at once. She watches him as he holds the stick up, his eyes scanning the length of it before looking intently at the spot that would change everything. His lips curl into a small smile as he turns the stick around.

And she’s met with the tiniest pink plus sign she’s ever seen.

“Looks like you’re gonna be a mom,” Jake says, watching her eyes well up as his smile gets bigger.

She can’t respond, the tears falling freely as she stares at the test incomplete awe. She has less than a second to compose herself before the excitement kicks in and she lets out a soft laugh, Jake’s arms going around her waist and pulling her to him tightly.

“We’re gonna be parents, babe,” he whispers into her hair, his lips pecking the skin behind her ear. She’s still speechless, wondering how two steps on her life calendar managed to happen in less than a year when she thought she’d had everything planned out. Jake leans back, his hands coming up to cup her face and kiss her gently. She melts into him, her hands curling against the collar of his hoodie, pulling him closer to her.

“We’re actually having a baby,” she says, more to herself as a confirmation that holy shit this is actually happening.

“Yeah we are.” Jake lets his hand drift down to her stomach. “You can do this, Ames,” he whispers, kissing her again. “I know you can.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

They tell their parents first, Jake’s in person and Amy’s over Skype. Camila Santiago instantly bursts into tears the second Amy holds up a picture from their first scan, their baby barely visible at only seven weeks but it’s there.

“Now, Amy, you need to start eating more fruit and vegetables. This way, your baby will be a girl and we need more women in this family, mija!” she cries, clapping her hands.

Needless to say, they ended that call fairly quickly(mostly due to Amy’s sudden lack of patience and the waves of irritation that have hit her in the last two days).

Karen and Roger are much more tame, letting out a collective gasp as Jake hands them the ultrasound photo. Roger slaps a hand against Jake’s back while Karen settles on the sofa next to Amy, studying the fuzzy print.

“Looks like you’re gonna be a dad just like me, bud!” Roger exclaims. Jake resists the urge to tell him to fuck off, ignoring the rage building up inside him when he shoots a look over at Amy.

“You’ll be better,” she mouths, giving him a small smile.

They tell Captain Holt next.

There was no build up to it, Jake had insisted that Holt doesn’t appreciate beating around the bush (Amy should know this, she’s halfway through binder number two of their mentoring program) so when they sat down in his office one Thursday morning, the easiest thing for all of them was to just throw it out there.

“Amy’s pregnant!” Jake blurts out. The room goes quiet, Holt looking back and forth between them, briefly glancing at Amy’s stomach hidden beneath her new navy blazer she intentionally bought one size larger.

“Congratulations,” he spoke, “make sure you take it easy from now on.”

“Don’t worry, babe,” Jake whispers as they leave his office, “he’s definitely stoked that his two best detectives got it on.”

“Shut up,” she groans, slapping a hand against her forehead.

And finally, they tell the squad.

Charles had organised another detectives-only weekend away, this time at a holiday home owned by Genevieve’s distant cousin. By this stage, Amy is nine weeks pregnant. She’s been feeling nauseous for the last week and a half, and every second day has brought her headache after headache. The small bump beneath her shirt isn’t super noticeable but she feels it, absentmindedly letting her fingertips trace over the hard skin when no one else is watching.

She’s sitting at the island in the kitchen talking to Terry about an old case when she glances over at Gina, who is staring at her with narrowed eyes. Amy instantly knows what she’s looking at, she can see Gina doing the math in her head - the sick day she had the week before, orders of decaf coffee, denying free sushi from the deli down the street - and Amy can almost see a literal light bulb flashing above her head. She knows.

Gina smirks, disappearing into the kitchen and emerging less than a minute later holding two full wine glasses. “Alright, girl,” she says, plopping down on the stool, “which Amy are we going to see this year? I’m personally thinking Nine-Drink Amy should come out of her cave. Don’t get me wrong, Eight-Drink Amy is an icon, but we are minus a horse so we’ll have to make do without her.”

Amy glares at Gina as she slides one of the glasses in her direction, knowing she has to think of an excuse and think of it quickly.

“Actually,” she begins, sliding the glass back towards Gina, “It’s...only 4 o’clock. Some would say it’s too early.”

It’s code. Don’t say anything.

“Too early? Come on, Santiago, we’re on holiday!” Terry exclaims. “Treat yourself!”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jake asks, a slice of pizza in hand as he heads towards the fridge for another beer.

“Just trying to offer old Amy here a drink but for some reason, she’s not in the mood for an alcohol buzz,” Gina answers, her voice threaded with tease.

Jake whips around, his cheeks full of the cheesy crust he just stuffed his face with. “Why-mmph,” he grunts, quickly swallowing. “Why you doin’ that, Gina?”

“My sweet Jacob, some of us come on these trips to relax. Much like Terry and Charles, I come on these trips to get away from my kid. But also, I thoroughly enjoy witnessing drunk Amy,” Gina explains, giving him a knowing look and Amy can see it click in his eyes.

“Now, Amy, are you sure you don’t want this wine-”

“Gina,” Jake says sharply, making everyone look at him. “Stop.” He circles the counter, his hands running up his wife’s back to rub at his shoulders. “Ignore her,” he whispers in her ear.

“Alright, what’s going on with you two?” Terry asks, his voice suspicious as Rosa and Charles walk into the kitchen for a refill.

Amy glances over her shoulder at Jake with a defeated expression. “Let’s just tell them,” she sighs.

Charles gasps. “Did you finally try that couples hair-washing class I sent you the link to? Didn’t I tell you, Jake, it’s the most erotic thing ever, Genevieve and I tried it and-”

“No, Charles, that’s gross. I deleted that entire conversation, even my phone was traumatized.”

Charles frowns. “So what is it? You’re already married. And Amy can’t be pregnant, Jake said that’s further down your life calendar and we all know how strict you are with that, there’s no way you could...”

He trails off when he sees Amy bite her lip, resisting the urge to smile. He sees Jake’s arms curling around her shoulders, hugging her from behind as Amy’s hand presses against her bump again, which is much more noticeable now that all eyes are on her.

“No way,” Rosa deadpans, the sound of Charles hyperventilating filling the room.

“You’re - but you - and Jake - and - parents?”

Amy nods. “I’m nine weeks.”

“OH. MY. GOD!”

And then he passes out.

“Cheers to that,” Gina says, raising her glass.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She’s ten and a half weeks pregnant and everything is fucking annoying, from Jake’s concerned gaze on the other side of her desk, to Charles giving her daily lists of multivitamins. She knew she’d feel a little tired but she had no idea that growing a baby would exhaust her this much and drain all of her energy.

“Can you guys please leave me alone, I’m fine,” she’d insisted, slumping in her chair and letting her eyes close for a second. The next thing she knew, she was being carried into her apartment and tucked into bed, her husband pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead and promising to call her later.

That was hours ago. The sunlight that shone through their bedroom windows had dimmed, the sky outside a deep blue with fluorescent spots of yellow from the street lamps below. She managed to get some sleep, cuddling the soft mink blanket to her chest as her hand runs across her stomach continuously, hoping her tiny nugget is as comfortable as she is right now. She’s about to doze off again when she hears the front door close and a set of keys being dropped on the bench. She waits for him to come to her, knowing that he’ll fuss over how she’s feeling and once again she roll her eyes and tell him to relax.

When he opens their bedroom door and peeks at her around the frame, the look in his eyes is mischievous. “Hey babe,” he says softly, “you feeling better?”

She stretches slightly. “Mmm, heaps better.”

“Good.” He pushes the door open, walking towards the bed holding a plain brown paper bag in one hand.

“Oh god, what is that?” Amy sighs as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not bad,” he starts, watching her as she sits up, “it’s just a present. For you. Well, for the baby. And us. More for us, I guess.” He reaches into the bag and pulls out the smallest police onesie Amy has ever seen, laying it flat on the comforter in front of them. She lets out a gasp, reaching forward and letting her fingers trace the stitching of the soft material, her eyes tearing up for the fifth time today (damn those hormones) as she picks up the matching beanie, nuzzling her cheek against the fluffy material.

“So...you like it?” Jake asks, adjusting his position to curl his arm around her waist.

“Babe, it’s so cute,” she giggles, “where did you get it?”

Jake shrugs. “Charles and I were bringing in a suspect for questioning and we passed this baby store. It looked like it had just opened so I thought I’d go in and have a look on the way home and...yeah. The girl that worked there practically threw it at me when she saw my badge, said it was ‘fate’ or something. I think she was a bit of a space head. Brooklyn is full of weirdos.”

Amy smiles, kissing his cheek. “Even if she is a space head, this is perfect.”

“Our baby is gonna be so cool,” he mumbles, leaning forward to rest his cheek against her growing stomach. “You hear that, kid? You’ve got a badass detective for a dad and the prettiest sergeant for a mom. You’re already awesome and you don’t even know it.”

Amy cards her fingers through Jake’s hair as he continues to talk to the baby, their baby, feeling her face wet with tears she didn’t realize had fallen.

“Fucking hormones,” she mutters.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She’s eleven weeks and three days when it happens.

Her eyes open wide, giving her no time to adjust to the darkness of their bedroom when she feels a dull but strong cramp in her lower stomach. She’s been feeling them for days now and all the baby books she read told her it was normal and just her body’s way of adjusting to the baby’s growth. She blindly reaches for her phone, the light of her lockscreen telling her it’s 1:49am. She groans quietly, rolling onto her side, hoping to relieve some of the pressure.

She’s about to fall back to sleep when it hits her full-force.

She sits up in bed immediately, her hands fluttering to her stomach as her face twists into a grimace. “Come on, kiddo, what are you doing?” she whispers to herself, rubbing her small bump delicately. She glances over at her husband sleeping peacefully next to her, his hair in wild tufts as he snores lightly.

Let him sleep, her subconscious tells her. It’s nothing.

She decides maybe going to the bathroom will help relieve the pain, quickly shoving the covers off her legs. She stands and the cramping suddenly feels ten times worse as she takes deep breaths, struggling to make it to the bathroom. When she finally gets there, she closes the door. Then there’s silence.

A few minutes later, she screams.

Jake’s awake now, shooting upright and instantly scrambling towards the direction of his wife’s cries, throwing the door open and freezing at the sight in front of him.

Amy is on the tiled floor, legs pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around herself, her small frame trembling. There’s toilet paper everywhere and her cheeks are streaked with tears and Jake is about to ask what the hell is going on when he locks eyes with his answer.

Through Amy’s legs, her pajama shorts are saturated with blood.

“I - need - I - something’s - wrong,” Amy gasps, squeezing her eyes closed in pain.

Jake snaps out of his daze and runs back into the bedroom, throwing on his hoodie and grabbing Amy’s fluffy bathrobe and a towel from the closet. He snatches his phone and his keys off the bedside table and sprints back into the bathroom, sliding down next to Amy.

“I’ve got you, come here,” he hushes her. He slings an am around her waist, lifting her up enough to slip the bathrobe over her shoulders and wrap the towel around her hips. “We’re gonna get you down to the car, okay? Can you walk?”

She takes a couple of steps, letting out a yelp and if Jake wasn’t holding her, she would’ve collapsed on the floor right then and there. “Hurts - it hurts - so bad - I can’t,” she sobs, her arms folding against her stomach protectively. “Jake - the baby-”

“Ames, the baby is fine, you’re fine,” he replies, trying to keep his voice as convincing as possible despite how much he’s panicking. He hooks his arm under her legs, picking her up bridal-style and carrying her carefully through the apartment. “Deep breaths, babe, you need to stay calm, freaking out is going to make it worse.”

He carries her out of the apartment, down the steps outside their building and sets her down gently to unlock the door from the passenger’s side. He quickly helps Amy into her seat, before slamming the door and running around to his side.

“J-Jake,” Amy stammers as he gets into his seat. He looks at her and she’s curled herself into a ball, still holding her stomach. She’s terrified.

“You’re alright, babe,” he assures her, his voice breaking as he starts the car, reaching over the console to grip her hand, “it’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He helps her back into bed with the promise that he’ll just be in the next room. She doesn’t say anything. She hasn’t spoken since they left the hospital.

He’s not surprised.

He calls her parents first, the words he speaks leaving an unfamiliar and unwelcome taste in his mouth. They promise to get on a flight to New York later that afternoon, her mother rattling off a list of rescue remedies. Jake mentally stores them in the back of his mind, wondering how she could possibly know all these things will help when she’s the one whose had a 100% success rate with eight kids.

He calls his mom next, the sound of her sympathetic voice breaking him down bit by bit. He balances the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pours milk into his too-strong coffee. “This sucks, Mom.”

“Honey, I’m so sorry. Do you need me to come over? Or do you want me to make some meals? I can whip up my infamous chicken and pumpkin soup? Amy likes that, doesn’t she?”

Jake rubs his eyes tiredly, the sun beaming through the kitchen window much too bright for 6:53am. “Actually, yeah. The soup would be great, thanks.”

“Of course, sweetheart. So how’s she doing?”

“She’s...” he falters and lets out a long breath. “She’s completely shut down. As soon as the doctor told us - I mean, she hasn’t said anything since they discharged her and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to help her or what to say or anything.”

“You just need to be there for her,” Karen replies as he takes his coffee into the living room and sits down, “she’ll talk to you when she’s ready.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“And how are you?”

Jake frowns into the receiver. “What do you mean?”

Karen sighs. “Jake, Amy’s not the only one in this. You have to take care of yourself too."

He considers her words for a moment. “I'm - it hurts, Mom,” he says honestly, “I mean, it wasn’t planned but we were still so excited and talking about all the things we could buy and looking at getting a bigger apartment and now it’s just...nothing.”

“I know, honey,” Karen says soothingly, “it will get better but right now, let yourself grieve. You’re allowed to.”

“Yeah. Hey, I’m gonna go see if Amy needs anything, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, I love you.”

He hangs up and once again he’s alone with his thoughts. He knows that at some point this morning, he’s going to have to go into the precinct and tell Captain Holt. They can’t just not go to work without an explanation. But when he tries to write a mental script in his mind of how to say it out loud, every option makes the situation more and more real. Captain, Amy and I need some time off. Captain, something has happened.

Captain, we lost the baby last night.

It’s the last one that gets him, makes him curse under his breath as he feels the tears roll down his face. He lets out a frustrated groan, wiping furiously at his eyes and picking up his phone to check the time. He stands up to make his way to their bedroom but when he turns around, Amy is standing behind him, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her fingers grip the edges of the material tightly, her eyes red from lack of sleep and pure pain as she watches him stare back at her.

“Hey,” he says slowly, “I was just coming to check on you.”

She doesn’t respond, her chest rising and falling with shaky breaths. It only takes him one step towards her for her to let out a sob that breaks his heart and he crosses the room quickly the wrap her in his arms, holding her tightly as her walls finally come down.

He lets her cry, says nothing as she hyperventilates into him, her hands clutching his shirt as he cocoons her, wishing he could protect her from everything that’s happened in the past few hours. Eventually he moves her to the sofa, lifting her legs over his lap, draping the blanket across both of them. Her sobs subside and the only noises she makes are quiet sniffles and deep breaths to steady herself. He stays quiet, waiting for her to speak when she’s ready and at least twenty minutes go by before she says anything.

“I don’t know what to do, Jake,” she rasps, her voice weak.

He presses his lips into her hair, trying to think of all the ways he could possibly take all of her pain and throw it a thousand miles away. “You don’t have to do anything.”

She lets out a breath. “I just - I don’t know why. They didn’t know why. They couldn’t tell us. I thought - I thought I was doing everything right. Why - what’s wrong with me?”

He pulls back and looks at her tear-filled eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Ames,” he whispers, stroking her hair gently. “Absolutely nothing.”

“You said I’d be able to do it and - and I couldn’t. I...” she trails off, avoiding his gaze as a fresh set of tears falls. “I couldn’t carry our baby. I lost our baby. This is all my fault.”

He tilts her chin up to make her look at him. “Hey, it’s not your fault, don’t say that.”

“Then why? Why couldn’t - why couldn’t I do it?”

Her voice is grief-stricken and he’s silent for a moment, trying to formulate a response in his head. “When I was 7, before my dad left, my mom got pregnant. Yeah, I know,” he says in response to his wife’s eyes widening. “I remember her explaining to me that there was a baby in her stomach and I didn’t really understand anything, except the fact she would keep telling me “you’re going to be a big brother”. And then one day, she didn’t pick me up from school. She got our neighbor to take me to her house until my mom came home. And when she did - even though I was young, I knew something was up. And when she told me...” he shakes his head, staring at the coffee table deep in thought.

“She said - my little brother, or sister, decided it wasn’t their time. That they weren’t ready to come into the world. And - saying it out loud now, I think that’s what happened with our baby.” He looks down at Amy, his fingers playing with the feathery ends of her hair. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Ames. You did everything right. Our baby just wasn’t ready.”

He feels dampness on the sleeve of his shirt and he knows she’s crying again, so he pulls her impossibly close to his chest, closing his eyes as he rests his cheek against the top of her head, feeling tears of his own fall free.

“Look. We can try again. We can wait however long you want to wait. We’ll stick to your life calendar. Either way, I’m here with you, I’m here for you. I’m on your team. We’re gonna get through this, I promise you.”

It’s quiet for a moment and he thinks she’s fallen asleep until she speaks.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, her long lashes fluttering against his neck.

He kisses her hairline, his arms tightening around her. “I love you too. Always will.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But they’ll be okay.

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake peralta #amy santiago #jake x amy #peraltiago #b99 fanfiction #my writing #ya hey even i am crying #and i wrote this!#goodbye!!!!!!!#the desktop preview is FUCKED i'm sorry idk how to fix it #maybe read it on mobile-only????

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