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padfootastic · 2 years

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so, for s&h sarurday, we’ve got outsider pov of mob boss sirius and a bunch of scary looking mafia underlings showing up to a school play with inconspicuous weapons to see kiddie harry dressed as a tree. confusion & ‘oh my god the boss has a what?’ ensues. slightly crack-y.

Clark Forrest hadn’t planned on going into this line of work, not when he’d graduated with an honours degree in Business Administration. But the economy was…not doing great, bills had to be paid, and he knew someone who knew someone who had very enthusiastically hooked him up with this job so here he was.

Applying his hard earned education to being the accountant for a mob boss.

If only his poor mum, may the Lord bless her soul, could see him now. She’d faint right back into her grave.

To his boss—Mr. Black’s—credit, he wasn’t that kind of mafia, the one with the indiscriminate killing and plucking toenails off and kidnapping children. Clark was sure there was some kind of…illicit activity going on - he wouldn’t be a mob boss if there wasn’t, would he? - but he hadn’t seen anything of the sort as of now, so he could happily go on believing nothing was amiss.

Well, unless you counted the occasional blood on the rug.

That - was clearly one of the more, uh, colourful activities Mr. Black engaged in. He tried not to think hard about it. It could always be red wine?

Was it really a surprise then, that Clark thought it would be something similar, when almost the entire, er, gang was called in for an important meeting?

“Alright, this one’s important so listen up,” Mr. Black ordered.

Now, here’s the thing. For those who hadn’t seen the man, it would’ve been very hard to picture the kind of—aura he had. Outwardly, he was attractive, almost unnaturally so, with high cheekbones, a sculpted nose, grey eyes that were known to inject terror into the hearts of the toughest of men. His hair was cropped close to his head, and he had jewellery pierced through his entire right ear. Tattoos ran down the length of his arms, creeping up the hem of his shirt to skirt around his jaw, peeks of ink around the ankle when he walked.

He looked dangerous, yes. No one would dispute that.

But he didn’t—feel dangerous. Not at first.

Because Sirius Black had an accent as posh as the Queen, with a pleasant smile adorning his face, like he’d just gotten back from a walk. Clark had been under the mistaken impression that the man wasn’t fit to hold the position he did - maybe he’d just gotten it through inheritance? a placeholder, perhaps? - because someone who drank their tea with more milk than tea in it, who sniffed delicately into handkerchiefs and said ‘excuse me’ when he burped—that didn’t seem like a mob moss, never mind that Clark’s only experience with the underworld had been in the form of smuggled DVDs and pirated clips.

It wasn’t until he’d seen what happened when someone defaulted on a payment that he realised exactly how deadly the man was. The screams from behind closed doors still rang in his ears sometimes. The unbothered expression of neutrality on Mr. Black’s face as he exited the room even more haunting.

Coming back to the situation at hand, though, Clark’s back had automatically straightened at Mr. Black’s tone. His brows were furrowed in a deep frown, lips pressed into a line, and he was looking at all the assembled members intently.

“Tomorrow, 9am sharp, not a minute before and not one after—You’ll be outside Collingswood Primary. I want all of you dressed casual. Jeans, jumpers, t shirts, you get it. If I see a single obvious sign that you’re packing, I’ll have you strung upside down from the London Bridge quicker than you can turn the safety off, get it?”

It took a second for Clark to realise he was actually expecting a verbal answer and he hastily added his agreement to the chorus of ‘yes, sir’ and ‘affirmative’ ringing around the room. Mr. Black stared at them for a few seconds longer—seconds that felt like they were stretched into hours. Clark could feel the sweat beading on the back of his neck, not even daring to blink as Mr. Black’s gaze skimmed over the room, only stopping on his for a millisecond. Finally, he nodded and gestured to his right.

“Lupin will give you the address and be your point man for the event tomorrow. We’re going to be undercover in public, which means subtlety and respectability. I expect everyone to show it.” With one final nod, he swept out of the room without a glance backward.

It was like a collective breath was released in that moment because Clark could feel his chest deflating, eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to understand what just happened.

Did the big boss just tell them to go incognito at a…primary school? One where actual, real kids went to study? Clark was confused because—he could’ve sworn they didn’t do that. Mr. Black hadn’t said it out loud but Clark had always gotten the impression that children were off limits. But that was clearly not the case here.

Maybe he needed to rethink his earlier ‘no kidnapping children’ conviction, and also his employment while he was at it.

Speaking of which, why was he there anyway? He was an accountant, had never been ‘out in the field�� so to speak a day in his life. He couldn’t even identify the parts of a gun if his life depended on it, for Christ’s sake.

Really, the only thing they all had in common was that they looked like they could blend into a crowd—as opposed to Mr. Black and a couple others who looked like they’d stepped off a biker gang catalogue at any given moment—which is, perhaps, why they’d been selected. All the better for going incognito.

“Alright lads, you heard the boss,” Lupin said, before rattling off the address for somewhere in Chelsea. Jesus. “Be there at 9 on the dot, you hear me? That’s when entry starts and it’s first-come-first-serve. Obviously, we want the best seats available. No excuses for being late because if you are, then that’s shop cleanup duty for a week. Alone.”

“But that’s a three man job, at least,” one of the others cried and the almost-sadistic smirk that flitted on the man’s face reminded Clark why, despite his mild mannered looks, he was one of Mr. Black’s main enforcers.

“Guess you won’t be late then, huh?” he replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Clark hastily swallowed all the questions he had at that.

The next morning, the sun was shining bright, the sky was blue without a single cloud and Clark was standing in front of Collingswood Primary—a large, sprawling brick structure with faculty members dotted around the grounds—at eight fifty seven, feeling exceptionally awkward in his polo shirt and khaki trousers.

He tugged at the collar as he surveyed the place. It was a posh neighbourhood, no disputing that. He couldn’t remember ever stepping foot in the area before today and it almost felt like even the air here was too expensive for him to breathe. It was making him even more nervous, then, to imagine what they could possibly be here for. Clark had spotted almost every single person from yesterday’s meeting scattered around the place.

McKinnon was leaning against a tree, phone in hand, and he was slightly envious at how comfortable she looked, while he was sweating in his loafers. Lupin, Meadowes and Longbottom were gathered around the far end of the lane, coffee cups in hand and periodically glancing around. Pettigrew was stuffing a bagel in his mouth, hunched over like he didn’t realise everyone could see him. Clark’s lip curled instinctively at the sight.

Another look around and he realised the man himself, Mr. Black, wasn’t here. Did that mean they had to do…whatever it was…on their own? He wasn’t prepared for this. He was just an accountant who’d taken a wrong turn in life and ended up in this position, both employment-wise and existentially, no matter how cushy the pay was or how many free coffees he got from the communal Keurig.

It was as he was spiralling in the thoughts of what could have been (what if he’d gone into trade school like his da wanted? what if he hadn’t failed third semester corporate finance and had gone into a different kind of cutthroat sector? what if he hadn’t thought a call centre was beneath him? what if—) that he heard a voice call out.

“Mr. Black! Welcome, welcome.”

His head snapped up just in time to look at the tall frame of Sirius Black standing beside a lady who was almost half his height—literally, the top of her blonde bun barely reached his chest—at the front gate. Mr. Black was dressed…differently. His usual leather-jacket-distressed-skinny-jeans look was switched out for a very respectable button down shirt and trouser, still skinny fit of course, and he looked—normal? Not like he was the head of the most terrifying organisation this side of the Thames, not even with the tattoos that were visible all the way from where Clark was standing. He could see him taking the old lady’s hand in a handshake.

“Headmistress Martin, you look lovely as always. I trust you’ve been well?”

Inexplicably, the lady (which—headmistress??), who must be as old as Clark’s grandmum, blushed. “I appreciate that, Mr. Black. You know, I’m glad to catch you here today, I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to make it.”

“As if there’s any way I can miss…” their voices trailed away as they made their way inside and Clark cursed the missed opportunity. He still didn’t know what was happening, and at this rate, his head was hurting because the most recent interaction was telling him there was something else at play here. It didn’t quite seem like they were here to kidnap kids for ransom or blackmail now.

Just as he’d shifted his worldview for the third time in so long, Lupin walked over the entrance and made a signal for the others to follow. Clark, being the closest, ended up directly behind him, which gave him the chance to…subtly listen—not eavesdrop, not his fault people talked too loud these days—to the man’s conversation with the teacher at the gate.

“Six for Harry Potter,” he said, handing over…tickets?

“I just saw Mr. Black go in too,” the teacher replied after writing it down in her clipboard. “Quite a popular kid, that one, isn’t he?”

“We’d like to think so.” Lupin smiled and walked in, seemingly familiar with the building and leading them like a line of ducklings to a door marked ‘Auditorium’. At this point, Clark was—yet again—calibrating his entire worldview. They were here for a…show? A kid’s show, at that? Were they going to drag a kid straight off the stage? Or, was he wrong, and were they here for a parent?

That would actually make more sense. Maybe they had a…client or someone who was hiding, but even cowards could be good parents, right?

He kept telling himself that as they took their seats somewhere down the middle, all in one row. He ended up squished in between Lupin and Longbottom, which was great, really. He could get all the inside gossip without any of the work.

“So when’s the kid coming up?” Longbottom asked, looking around curiously. “And where’s the boss sitting, anyway?”

“Sirius would be somewhere in the front row there. See.” Lupin pointed a finger towards the center of the auditorium, where a fancier set of couches were laid out. Mr. Black was sitting on one of them like he owned the whole place, with the Headmistress and some other distinguished looking officials in conversation beside him. “The lucky bastard, gets the good stuff while we’re stuck on these bloody chairs.”

Sometimes, Clark forgets that these two men went way back—no one else could dream of referring to the boss man like that.

“As for Harry, there’s some sort of a—choir, I believe? Then the play. Shouldnt take too long, it is primary school, at the end of the day.”

“Speaking of primary schools, do you know why we needed to bring our…pieces to one?” Longbottom questioned. Clark barely swallowed down the squeak that followed that line of query. He’d almost forgotten they were…packing. “Does Black think we’ll get attacked out here or something?”

“You know he doesn’t,” Lupin rolled his eyes. “But he’s not taking any chances when it’s coming to Harry. If you think you’re armed, you should’ve seen the assortment he strapped to himself today. If I didn’t know him, I would’ve had him chucked straight into a facility, I’m telling ya.”

“Mate, I know him and still feel the urge sometimes.” Both of them snort in unison at that and Clark is just sitting there, slightly terrified and mostly confused, at the turn of the conversation.

As the—program commenced, Clark keeps a tight grip on the handles of his seat, watching each child and member of the audience carefully. He doesn’t knew what he’d be asked to recount later, and he has no wish to make things harder for himself by losing himself in the spiral of wondering what the fuck was going on. His time at this particular…organisation had taught him two things, if nothing else: head down and no questions. It was how he’d skirted past everyone’s radar so far and he wanted to keep it that way.

The choir came up on stage and performed an—interesting variation on pop songs he’d heard on the radio. Lupin and Longbottom clapped politely when it ended and Clark joined in until the host on stage announced ‘Annual Play! Our little actors have put their heart and soul into this, so please, show them all the love you can’ which led to another round of applause, slightly more raucous this time. He could see Mr. Black was one of the more enthusiastic ones in the audience. Huh. He didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile so big before.

Just as he’s focused on now unnaturally white the man’s teeth were, Lupin leant forward to face their entire row.

“The boss’ kid is coming up now and he expects maximum participation from all of you.”

“The boss’ what?” Clark’s glad that McKinnon chose to voice what they were all thinking because he didn’t think he was brave enough for it, no matter how much he wanted to know.

“His kid, Harry. Keep up, Marlene,” Lupin sighed, like they were being the ones being unreasonable here and not the fact that an entirely new facet about their…organisation’s head had been revealed to them.

“Since when did Black have a child, what the fuck.”

“That’s not important, what is is the fact that Harry’s about to be on stage right now and if you get caught talking during his part, you bet your arse he’s gonna have you cleaning blood off the rug for the whole month.” With that, he turned back to facing the stage, considered the matter closed—no thought given to the others who were stuck in varying stages of disbelief and shock.

“How, er, how exactly are we supposed to know which one the kid is—and does he have a name?” Pettigrew asked, craning his neck around everyone between him—in the last seat—and Lupin.

“It’s Harry, didn’t you hear, Pettigrew?” McKinnon snarked.

“He’s just coming up, wait…” Lupin mumbled, looking intently at the stage where a bunch of kids dressed in colourful fairy tale costumes had arranged themselves. “There! That one.” He pointed towards the back corner of the stage where a small cluster of children were gathered. Clark squinted, trying to identify what was going on. Surely, Lupin didn’t mean—

“The tree?” Meadowes said, incredulously “That’s what we’re all here to see, a kid dressed as a common garden tree?”

Somehow, he didn’t think he could be more shocked and yet, when Lupin nodded, completely seriously, Clark was. His eyes zeroed in on the tree in question—not a hard task considering there was only one—and could just about make out a bunch of hair escaping the band sitting on his head. There was a pair of spectacles sitting on his nose, a bit too large in Clark’s opinion, and his face was pulled up in a wide smile. He was looking straight at the front row and even sitting as far back as he was, Clark could see the joy radiating off him. Cute kid, really, but did nothing to make sense of the befuddlement he was feeling.

Clark turned to his side, saw the varying expressions of confusion and shock lining everyone else’s face, and felt immediately gratified. At least he wasn’t alone.

He went through the rest of the performance barely registering what was happening, like moving through a fog, clapping when Lupin and Longbottom did—which was apparently whenever the tree, sorry, Harry so much as moved—and sneaking glances at Mr. Black all the other times.

It was astounding—the man was leaning forward, elbows planted on knees, an expression of complete rapture on his face like he didn’t want to be anywhere else except here, watching a kid dance around in a plastic shrubbery costume. He clapped frequently and loudly, even letting out a taxicab whistle one time that made Clark double take most comically. The guests on either side of him only smiled indulgently in his direction and that, more than anything, drove home how much of a regular Mr. Black must be among them.

An indeterminate amount of time later, the kids bowed, the host announced the end of the show, and everyone clapped harder than they had so far. Which was really saying something considering how much their group had contributed to the cumulative applause. And that’s not to even mention Mr. Black. But now, everyone was on their feet, and Clark could feel his palms stinging under the onslaught of his enthusiasm. Better that than be reprimanded later, though.

Once the cheers had died down and the host was finished with their closing credits, Lupin turned to them. “We’re going backstage, let’s go.” And promptly got up, walking down the aisle towards the stage. Clark blinked at his abruptness, used to it by now but still not quite, before turning to his other side where Longbottom was flapping his hand in a ‘well, go on then’ motion. He decided to listen and scurried away after Lupin, absently wondering if they looked like a bunch of ducklings following after mama duck. And wasn’t that a thought—the mighty thugs of the London underworld, relegated to animal metaphors.

“Wonderful event, Mr. Smith.” Lupin shook hands with an average white guy at a side entrance. “We’ll just go in here to see our boy, yes?”

“All…of you?” The guy asked, eyeing their procession dubiously.

“Well, of course, Harry’s our favorite little guy,” Lupin replied in the same pleasant voice. Clark didn’t bother to clarify that none of them even knew there was a little guy until an hour ago. If the boss wanted them to say his kid was their favorite, then that’s what they’ll say. It didn’t take long after that for them to be let in. Clark would be more worried about the school’s safety if he hadn’t seen Lupin walk circles around the smartest people he’d ever seen. School cops were no match.

“An’ an’ an’ did ya see the whole t’ing?” An excited voice was saying as they turned the corner. Clark craned his neck and felt his brows creeping up when he assigned it to their favorite little guy—Harry. Who was currently being cuddled—there was no other word for it—by Mr. Black. Harry had his arms wrapped around the man’s neck as he talked and Mr. Black was looking at him with a kind of laser focus Clark had never seen before. And considering he looked after their entire operation’s accounts, that was really saying something.

“I saw the whole thing, baby,” Mr. Black replied, voice soft. Clark and the rest of their entourage were frozen in their positions, not wanting to disturb their conversation. “You were beautiful.”

Harry bit his lip at that, eyes gaze falling to rest on Mr. Black’s collarbone rather than his eyes. “I was jus’ a tree, though, Siri.”

Mr. Black’s eyebrows turned down. “And you were the most perfect tree I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“But it—that’s—trees are boring. Anyone can be one,” Harry’s lower lip looked a bit wobbly there and Clark had just a second to despair, no matter that he was standing too far away to be expected to do anything, before Mr. Black took over, swift and practiced.

“Harry, my love, if anyone can be a tree, and yet it was you that was chosen, then what does that say about you?” Personally, Clark thought that bit of philosophy, while profound, was a bit too complicated for a child.

“But—“

“And,” Mr. Black gently cut in, “If you were boring, then I wouldn’t have cheered as hard as I did, would I? It’s a matter of pride for me that my godson makes such a lovely tree.” He tweaked the kid’s nose, making him let out a wet giggle. But, even Clark, inexperienced as he was around children, could see they weren’t out of the danger zone yet. The kid was still looking a bit troubled there. Clearly, Mr. Black had picked up on it as well because he turned to their little association with an expectant look on his face. Clark hadn’t even realised he’s noticed them but of course he did.

“And if that’s not good enough for you,” he continued teasingly, turning Harry towards them. “Then you can ask any of them and they’d say the same.” Mr. Black’s raised eyebrow was sufficient warning.

Harry, on the other hand, was unaware of the looming danger because he burrowed into his…parent? guardian? uncle? (Seriously, what was the relation here?) as he noticed the bunch of strangers standing there like idiots.

“Who’s they, Siri?” he whispered loudly.

“They’re my friends from work.” Clark pushed down the hysterical snort that wanted to emerge at that statement. “And they came here just for you!”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes—a bright emerald, now that Clark was closer—opened wide in surprise. “All for me?”

“All for you, baby,” Mr. Black reassured him before clearing his throat pointedly. Clearly that was the cue for Lupin, who’d been standing just as quietly, to jump in for he strode forward until he was right in front of the pair.

“Hello, Mr. Harry,” he offered a hand to the kid, who returned the solemn handshake with a grin tugging his lips. “I see you’re well.”

“You too, Mr. Loo-pin,” Harry giggled before leaning forward in Mr. Black’s arms. “Did ya see me pre-pef-peform?”

“I did, you were really quite something, kiddo,” Lupin ruffled his black hair, showing a level of familiarity Clark should’ve come to expect by now. “Thank you for letting me come.”

“But I din’t—“ Harry said, eyebrows furrowed adorably.

“We wouldn’t have seen such a great show if you weren’t acting in it, now, would we?”

“Hm.” While Harry seemed to consider that, Clark and the others had managed to get over their shock to make their way to their boss and his kid.

“Hello, Harry,” Meadowes grinned, bright and friendly, taking the lead. “You were so cool up there!”

The poor kid looked at her with rapidly reddening cheeks. Clearly he wasn’t immune to her charms either. Figures. “T’ank you, miss.” Clark could see Meadowes biting down on her lip, eyes softening in adoration.

“I thought you were the best one on stage, Harry,” Clark added, keeping one eye on his boss who was staring at all of them intently and another on Harry who couldn’t see to stop blushing. As he received another stammered thanks in reply, the others stepped up for their turn at congratulating the kid.

When all of them had finished their round of pleasantries, not that it was much of a chore—while a tree was certainly a forgettable role, Harry was adorable enough to win all of them over—Mr. Black smoothly stepped into the conversation. He ran a gentle hand over the boy’s unruly hair, smoothening it fruitlessly before tucking a few strands behind one ear.

“Will you believe your poor godfather now? Or do I need to shout from the rooftops?”

Harry swatted at his chest feebly, making a face at the gentle teasing. Despite knowing that this was just a kid—the boss’ godson at that—Clark held his breath in anticipation of how such an action would be perceived. Surprisingly (or perhaps not) the boss only grinned, a shocking display of emotions Clark hadn’t ever seen before today.

“So, ice cream in celebration then?” he asked. Clark, still stuck on the relationship reveal, almost replied in the affirmative before realising that would’ve been a supremely awkward thing to do. Clearly he wasn’t the one being asked here.

“Yes, please, Siri!” Harry chirped, bouncing a little in excitement. “Will—will your friends come too?”

“Will they, now?” Mr. Black repeated, looking at them with a raised eyebrow that communicated very well his feelings on the matter. The four of them, Longbottom and Lupin not included, immediately fell over themselves trying to communicate a variety of reasons for why they ‘couldn’t come, so sorry kid, maybe next time?’ in a way that didn’t hurt his feelings or get themselves strung upside down.

“Oh, otay then,” Harry blinked, looking a bit overwhelmed at the sudden onslaught directed at him. “T’ank you for comin’!”

Meadowes was unable to stop herself from cooing this time. Mr. Black snorted softly before inclining his head in their direction, saying ‘thank you’ and dismissing them in one smooth move.

Longbottom and Lupin stayed back, engaging Harry in conversation, while the others slowly walked away, trying to wrap their heads around the events of the day. He could hear snippets of Meadowes and McKinnon conversation, speculating on why they needed to be armed if they were just here to watch a kid’s play, and immediately increased his pace so he didn’t have to hear about things like that again. He really did not want to think about the unsavoury aspects of his job right now, not when he was equally baffled by everything.

Instead, he wondered if he should go job hunting again. All this stress surely wasn’t worth it, was it? Not if he wanted a place right next to his mother in the near future. Maybe he should think of going into the call center industry he’d written off earlier. It didn’t make use of his degree but it also didn’t have guns, the pay was decent, and there was no definitely no blood to clean up on the rug.

#sirius black #harry potter #remus lupin #good godfather sirius black #sirius and harry saturday #mob boss sirius black #an oc with the stupidest name on earth #literally used it as a placeholder but i can’t find anything better lol #outsider pov #look i finished it! a bit disjointed but the spirit is there i think #i started this like two months ago bc of this mental image of a bunch of scary thugs showing up to the school #for harry dressed in the most mundane outfit because sirius is a PTA Parent #and that fact remains true even in a universe where he’s a scary mobster #the ending is kind of meh but we’ve established i’m not good at those #but yeah. big terrifying man who’s super soft for his kid.#a+ concept. love to see it.#tumblr works #pen’s writing

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genevievemd · 2 years

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Long Story Short (1/4)

Chapter One: We Were Happy

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure), mentions of F!MC (Genevieve McClure) x M!OC (Patrick Bailey Word Count: 1461 Rating: G Category: Fluff, Ethan POV, Mini Series Trope(s): and an ex came back in the picture, and they were in a supply closet

Summary: ~Series: The four times Ethan met Genevieve’s exes. (In chronological order) ~ Chapter: Ethan is struck with jealousy when he sees the woman he desires with someone, he thinks, is new. Aka Ethan meets Patrick. (Set during Gen’s second year)

Warnings: none

A/N: What’s up party people? We’re back with a mini series. I was going to wait until TYB was completely over but inspiration for this chapter struck and so here we are. As with most things, this takes place in Saraland, because what is canon at this point. Also, every chapter is named after the Taylor Swift song Gen would associate with each ex, so feel free to listen while you read. Enjoy the pining in this chapter from doctor grumpy.

It’s most likely obvious to anyone that he’s staring at her, face twisted in annoyance or curiosity. Or both.

Taking slow deep breaths as he watches a certain blonde resident laugh, and touch, and talk with a tall dark haired man. Someone she clearly knows well.

A new boyfriend, perhaps. And old flame.

Whatever the case, it’s causing Ethan’s blood to boil, his face flash with jealously. A jealously he has no right to.

All they’ve done is kiss two and a half weeks ago, and again during their Mass Kenmore heist. Before that they were in a reset, and they have yet to discuss the earth shattering kisses. So, it wouldn’t be implausible that Genevieve potentially has a boyfriend now. And completely within her rights.

Because Ethan is still being a damn fool and avoiding what is most likely an easy conversation. Instead, he’s standing at the nurse’s station, watching the object of his every desire talk flirtatiously with a man.

“That’s Patrick.” Dr. Trinh appears at his side, handing the nurse a chart, knowing smirk on her face.

“Pardon?” He looks away from Gen quickly, eyes back on the chart he was supposed to be reading.

“You know, Patrick.” Sienna whispers the man’s name, as if to remind him of a fact he should know.

She tilts her head with curiosity when he still looks puzzled, lowering her voice even more. “Wait, you guys haven’t had the exes talk?”

“Why on Earth would I discuss my subordinate’s dating life, Dr. Trinh?”

“Cause you totally like each other.” Sienna shrugs, taking a new chart from Nurse Sarah. “Well, either way, that’s her ex boyfriend, Patrick. They dated in high school for two years and are still good friends. According to Mrs. McClure, everyone wanted them to get married one day.”

“Hm.” The information makes his stomach drop and his chest feel like it’s caving in.

Which only infuriates him more. He shouldn’t be thinking this way, whether they’ve kissed recently or not. Genevieve was supposed to be off limits.

“Go introduce yourself.” Sienna looks up at him, smirking. “I bet he already knows about you.” She walks away without a second glance, leaving him once again staring brazenly at Gen.

He watches her laugh again. The pretty sound echoing down the hall, and that’s all it takes for him to decide he’s had enough. He closes to file in his hand, stalking up to Gen and Patrick, heartbeat loud in his ears.

This may be the stupidest, more irrational thing he’s ever done, but Ethan can’t endure another second of whatever is happening at the end of the hall.

“You’ve never changed, Genny.” The boy pits his arm on her shoulder, the nickname Ethan knows she hates leaving his mouth with ease.

“Dr. McClure, the hallways are for walking not socializing.”

His aggressive tone makes Gen turn in his direction, eyes wide with shock. And something else.

Amusement, it would seem. If the slight upturn of her lips is any indication.

“Hi, Dr. Ramsey.” She extracts herself from Patrick’s hold, still smirking. “I was just catching up with an old friend between rounds.”

“And the hallways is the best place for that?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Ramsey. Genny’s talked a lot about you.” Patrick offers his hand in greeting.

At least he has manners, which is more than Ethan can say for the interns. And some of the residents.

“Has she?” He shakes his hand, his stomach swooping involuntarily at the thought of her discussing him with an ex.

“Oh yeah. She’s been obsessed with you for years.”

“Patrick!” Gen hits her friend’s arm, cheeks turning the most endearing shade of pink. “Shouldn’t you get back on the road. If I keep you here any longer your mom is gonna file a missing person’s report.”

“You’re right.” Patrick smiles, pulling Gen into a hug. “It was great to see you. Next time you’re in D.C. hit me up.”

“Will do.” She lets him go, waving as he walks to the elevators.

“So,” Ethan clears his throat, pulling at the lapels of his white coat. “Patrick seems nice.”

“He is.” She tilts her head, eyeing him curiously. “Si told you about him didn’t she? I saw you at the nurse’s station.”

“She merely informed me of the nature of your relationship with the man you loitering the halls with.”

“Loitering?” She has the audacity to smirk at him, eye brow raised. “Are you jealous, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I’m not jealous, Genevieve. I’m… I'm not entirely sure what I’m feeling, if I’m being honest. Although, I do know that I don’t enjoy seeing you laugh so intimately with someone else.”

“Hey,” The amusement leaves her face in an instant, replaced with something akin to patience. A gentle hand dragging down his until it reaches his hand.

Her fingers lace with his before wordlessly tugging him towards a supply closet. He should stop them from entering the dark room. It was neither the time nor place, but Ethan finds himself unable to utter a single word.

Instead, he lets her drag him into the closet and lock the door behind them.

“Why are we in a closet, G?”

“Because I didn’t want to finish what I was going to say in full view of the hospital. I know how much you hate gossip about us.” She smiles again, green eyes looking up at him reassuringly. “Patrick is my ex, yes, but now he’s nothing more than my very good friend who works for a medical device company in D.C. And…”

She takes his hand again, squeezing gently. “I don’t know how much Sienna told you, but he and I will never be together romantically again. That fizzled out when we were 16. He and I aren’t endgame.”

“Endgame?”

“You know, like, soulmates.”

“Right.”

Gen steps closer, and he can feel his heartrate increase. The smell of her perfume filling his lungs as if it’s some kind of toxin made to lower his defenses. Though she never needed help with that. Unfortunately for him, all she needs to do is smile at him and Ethan is a blubbering fool.

“I know we haven’t talk about the kiss at your apartment, or the one at Kenmore yesterday, but I’m not with anyone, Ethan, and I don’t plan to be. The only person I want to be with, is you.”

Her confession takes him by surprise, though it shouldn’t. She’s never been shy about where her feeling for him lie. Something he envies – her freedom to feel however she wants without fear.

There are no walls around her heart. No fortress he has to climb over, unlike her.

“I know you need more time, Ethan, and I’m willing to wait. For however long you need.” Gen leans up on her tiptoes, lips against his cheek with such delicacy.

As if he’s glass and she’s afraid she’ll shatter him if she presses too hard.

After a few seconds, she steps away, squeezing his hand before removing herself completely from his space.

Maybe he doesn’t need more time. Maybe the jealousy and insecurity he felt watching her with Patrick was a sign he was ready;. That they were in a place to finally see what had been blossoming between them for the past year.

“Genevieve,” Ethan reaches for hand, pulling her back to him. He takes ahold of her face with the same delicacy she’d just kissed him with, smiling softly. “I don’t need time. Come over tomorrow night. I’ll cook for you and we can talk.”

“Okay.”

He leans in to kiss her, relish in the touch and taste of her before they leave the sanctuary of the closet. But they’re halted by the screeching of their pagers.

“Damn it.” Ethan pulls away with a frustrated sigh, taking the offending piece of tech out of his pocket. “The senator is on his way. We should get to the office.”

“Promise to finish the moment we were totally just having tomorrow night?”

“I promise, Genny.”

“I like G better. I mean, you can call me Genny, if you want, I’ll allow it. But,” She reaches up to touch his cheek, thumb stroking gently against his stubble. “I like it when you call me G, cause no one has ever called me that before. It feels more special.”

“Noted. G it is. Come on.” He leads her to the door, propping it open to make sure the coast is clear before opening it completely.

As they walk back to the office, he waits for regret to sink in. For his mind to come up with an excuse to cancel they plans they made. But it never comes.

The only thing he feels is hope.

A/N: You know what actually happens tomorrow night? Gen almost dying.

Next up is Satan, aka Ryan Ozwell. That will be fun, you’ll get protective Ethan.

Hope you liked this first chapter! And a giant thank you to @jamespotterthefirst for letting me hop on the exes train with her. ILY Bree

(Tagging Separately)

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfictioln #ethan x gen #LSS series

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scribbleboxfox · 2 years

Note

Definitely not the friend of the person who sent the artwork with the chair–

Can confirm, she's been rambling on and on about your fic for weeks. Months. I decided I had to read it for myself, since she spoke so highly of it, so I started today. Somewhere around the seventh chapter now. I'm always cracking up at the notes at the end. For the record, you nailed Caboose. I could hear his voice more clearly than anyone else's.

That aside, I did have a real question. Figured I'd ask since apparently you're a super easy to talk to/contact (if my excited friend's notes about sharing the artwork have been any indication). I do not know how tumblr works, though. Fingers crossed I figure it out quick.

The actual questions:

How did you come up with the idea for your story?

How did you make it work? As in, how did you make a plot, stick to it, and then keep going–

How are you able to impersonate fandom characters so accurately and not fear being incorrect??? (I struggle with this, hence my not having written fanfiction in, like, ever haha)

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

AHHHH YES HELLO HI I'M SO GLAD YOU STARTED READING AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

I'm going to put my answers under a cut so it doesn't clog up people's dashboards. (Click on the "Keep Reading" link/button thing to see them!)

Gonna try to answer your first two questions together, since they pair up nicely.

Honestly, and this is going to sound silly, the idea for The Long Road Home sprung from a goofy one-liner that I thought up for Fox to say. More specifically; I'd come up with Fox as a way to give Locus a goofy sidekick that annoyed him but ultimately became his best friend. She was originally just a silly OC that I did some doodles of, and I wasn't planning on getting attached to her or Red vs. Blue. But then I imagined the stupidest, funniest one-liner I have ever come up with.

Unfortunately, said one-liner needed context. Over a million words of context, apparently LOL. So I started brainstorming, came up with a plot, and planned it out. It's hard to explain the exact technical work that went into building this thing, but I'll try;

Initially, I started by asking myself "where do I want these characters to end up, and how are they going to get there?" Then I determined the load-bearing plot points from there;

The characters meet Fox

She convinces them to work together with Locus

Locus earns some of Kimball's trust; enough for Kimball to let him help Fox on her crusade to find evidence against Hargrove that the UNSC will have to pay attention to

They go to Earth and Locus discovers the power of friendship

At the same time, Hargrove decides to continue his campaign to wipe out Chorus

[Insert other spoilery plot points here]

From there, I came up with a document that holds all the super important plot points and the order in which they happen, along with all the necessary sub-plots that help move the story along.

The way I format it is "Chapter Name: Plot point 1 - Plot point 2 - plot point 3" so I know what needs to happen in each chapter. I've included an image below that hopefully helps illustrate this a little better;

This was the first thing I did when planning my fic. It took me a while to finalize it; I didn't manage to get it close to the finalized version that exists now until around Chapter 14. Since then I've tidied it up even further as I've tightened up my overall story direction, and continue to do so every few chapters I write to make sure that everything that happens in future chapters makes sense with what's happened in previous ones.

TL;DR: this document exists for me to know where the fic is going and how to get there, and serves as a framework for the overall story as a whole.

The next step; which is more of a housekeeping thing on my part, is the chapter outlines. These basically serve as a rough draft and help me get all the "filler" down so I can use it to connect the stuff that happens in each chapter. To further explain; I outline the chapter scene-by-scene and include some of the more minute details that happen. I like to write these like they're a FandomWiki article about an episode of a TV show so I don't get too descriptive with them (they're rough drafts after all,) though I'll usually include pieces of dialogue that I think could actually work in the chapter, or serve as a means of getting an idea across.

Here's an image of what it looks like;

Since these are basically rough drafts, I like to use them to just throw down whatever ideas I can come up with, and then in the final draft (AKA the actual chapter) I iron out all the stuff that either won't work or isn't as good as it could be.

Both of these documents help me stay on track and keep me motivated. I find that the timeline document keeps me super excited about what's going to happen in future chapters, because I can just scroll down and see it. And the outline document allows me to throw out whatever ideas think will work on a chapter-by-chapter basis without my perfectionism kicking me in the head.

TL;DR #2: to actually answer your question about how I make it work; I found a technical method that works best for me (which I've outlined above.) Basically, I found a way to get down all the basic ideas for what I wanted to happen in my story. Then, before each chapter, I wrote outlines that define the exact execution of each idea that happens in that specific chapter. Utilizing both in tandem have helped keep me on track, and kept me motivated for what comes next in the story.

Hopefully that makes sense! :'D

As for how I handle character-voice... I've re-watched Red vs. Blue a few dozen times now, so I have some idea of the general cadence of the main characters (what they would say and how they would say it.) But honestly, the way I nail it down in my fic is I just...read their dialogue aloud. Or failing that, I'll read it in my head using the voice of the character I'm trying to emulate.

It usually takes me a few tries to be successful, and I'm honestly super happy that you think I nailed Caboose since I always struggle the most with him.

When all else fails though, I'll either re-watch the Chorus Trilogy or pull up the (incomplete) WikiQuote page for it. Since The Long Road Home takes place immediately after that part of the show, the dialogue from the Chorus Trilogy is the best reference for characterizing the main cast.

TL;DR #3: Research and references are your best friends when writing dialogue. I find that if I can't imagine a character saying a certain thing, then they either wouldn't say it the way I'm trying to write them saying it, or they wouldn't say it at all. Reading dialogue aloud can help A LOT with figuring out if something sounds right.

(But also don't worry about dialogue being perfect. In the more recent chapters, my characterization for some of the Reds and Blues has definitely slipped lol. I think, if you are going to try to write a fic at some point, the most important thing is that you love the characters and the media they came from, and that you're having fun overall!)

Thanks so much for all the questions! It always puts a huge smile on my face whenever anyone asks about my fic! :D

Have a great day! <3

#tlrh #ask #SORRY ITS SO LONG I TEND TO RAMBLE #also anyone and everyone can and SHOULD steal this writing process if they think it'll help them #though i cant say it'll work for everyone #i just have adhd and need STRUCTURE or else i'll keel over like a horse with a broken leg #ANYWAYS TY FOR THE ASK I OWE YOU MY LIFE

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rightnowyoucanttell · 4 years

Text

𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝘼𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙉𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 || .G.D.

(This songs an oldie, but It popped up on my random artist playlist, and I was inspired. Haha, enjoy ig..)

Title: Alone Again, Naturally

Summary: Veronica Chandler seems to be only destined for heartbreak. After a failed attempt to rebound on her toxic ex, she makes a routine trip to her local 24 hour Starbucks, in which she meets a handsome stranger.. and oh, who happens to be the spitting image to the photo of the tinder date who stood her up....

Relationship: Grayson Dolan and Veronica Chandler

Word Count: 2,034

Tags (*updated*) : @dzoint @graysavant @blindedbythelightt @tadadolan @heartofalionxo @beatement-l @grayswhore @tattoogray @saggitariusagirl

Author’s note: First, this is total shit, i’m sorry. Second, I did the stupidest thing of all time. I gave my OC the same name as the main character in the novel i’m writing on wattpad (to self plug, or not to self plug that is the question; i’ll take self plug for 100, Alex) why am i so stupid? Well, i'm too lazy to change it so.

Third, i was inspired when the twins talked about dating apps and just like idk where this came from, must be out of my ass because it’s shit.

I actually laughed at that...

Fourth, feedback is like the most important thing to me, like ever? So, feel free to lmk what y’all think, if this becomes a series I will be taking concepts.

Veronica Chandler is destined for great things. Planning her future, modeling and working as a struggling actress, she could go off and marry some lawyer. But, the only thing she did seem destined for was heartbreak.

Ronnie knew it had been too soon. Not even a month ago she had broken up with her ex, Jonathan. She also knew this, when she was attracted to a man on tinder with the same name, mostly because of the name. She wasn’t over the man who man who ruined her life to all hell. But, the comfort of a relationship was all she needed and desperately strived for.

Jonathan, was an artist, mad at the world needing to find himself. So, each night he did just so. Jonathan would go out to ‘find himself’ and along the way he found, Roxanne, Malibu, Dianne and Eileen. Jonathan drank, and he would physically and mentally abuse a good strong woman, who for the longest time couldn’t bring herself to walk out of his life.

Each time, from the first to the third she was too lonely, desperate and down on herself to let him loose. But, after he cheated on her with a married forty-year-old woman with four children, that was when Mama Chandler intervened and scared him half to fucking hell. That woman raised no fool, and if she did it was Veronica’s older brother, Noah. Veronica was just a sad young woman who couldn’t keep a man because they used her.

This night in particular was her rebound date at a local vegan restaurant. A fancy one. With velvet rugs, chandeliers, expensive wines, however with decently sized portions. Veronica stood outside waiting for Jonathan. Who was described in his photo as muscular, a builder with brown hair and eyes and often in there messages boasted about such muscularity.

It was dark. He planned to meet her at 5:30. It was 7:30. Groups passed her. Parties on the street began talking, while the mannequins in store fronts slept under the lights. But, Ronnie was sure, this guy was genuine, and would be the best rebound.

But, her plans and dreams were foiled when 8:30 hit, she decided to leave embarrassed and ashamed she thought it would turn out differently, she should have known. Her mosquito allergy becoming aggravated just as much as her. She sulked. She never really dressed to impress others, she wore heels, a leather jacket paired with a silk revealing top and boot cuts black jeans. That’s when the heaven on earth shone down upon her, a burning bush of sorts.

A 24 hour starbucks.

As she walked down the sidewalk slowly, she was tired of being let down; tired of catering to the whims of others, ready to return home and make a stray of financially irresponsible choices online, she entered through the glass doors and into the small shop in Hollywood. The cool yet humid summer air from outside was left behind in the warmth of the shop, that’s when she saw him.

A tall handsome stranger, brown hair and eyes, with muscular arms. She fell for him immediately, he was gorgeous. But, then. Veronica realized something, the same man, the handsome stranger, was either the same person or a bicep by bicep replica of the man she was supposed to meet tonight, at that Vegan restaurant.

The fire fueled deep down, but she ignored it when she got in line to the left of him ready for her Pink Drink and croissant so she could run to the nearest Ralph’s and purchase two tubs of strawberry ice cream, she’d be needing it. The line shifted. She shifted on her feet, he did the same.

Veronica tapped her foot. That’s when the stranger started talking,”Whoah. Slow down there ‘Miss i’m on a mission’.”

His voice was deep and hoarse, he sounded like he had been having a night himself. Veronica ignored the voice that in some ways drew her closer.

“I’m Grayson, By the way..” the named stranger drifted. That’s when Veronica snapped. The man was Jonathan or she thought, and he was ignorant enough to poach the woman he stood up, again, she thought.

“How can you be so arrogant and glib, after everything you’ve done?” Veronica whipped her head to the right of him snapping out of anger and then with no response

“Ah, she’s brave. Calling me arrogant and glib, without even knowing me, cool.” Grayson scoffed and nodded, shrugging it off, and moving forward in the line before stopping yet again.

Ronnie tapped her foot miserable an angry…”Without knowing you? I know you. Your the kind of guy who’s shows up a girl, and breaks the rules because you think it’s cute.”

“Do You think it’s cute?” He lanced over to her smirking a devilish smirk. She scoffed and crossed her arms with her jacket draped over one of them, shaking her head as the crazily long late night line, shifted forward. ‘Grayson’ may have won the battle by showing her up, but his blatant lies would lose the war to Veronica.

“Spare me your routine, i assume that’s what this” she gestured to Grayson,”-cut it out okay? Or, i’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Sorry, not into a relationship at the moment,” he joked before turning back to face the options board, even though his order was almost always the same. Ronnie rolled her eyes. Ronnie's eyes were tired. She felt physically ready whoop this man;s ass, but mentally and emotionally drained.

“And, by the way. No. I do not think it’s fucking cute..” Veronica replied after a few moments of silence. Veronica mumbled cruising, barely audible to Grayson. Veronica was so confused, and so irritated, she didn’t no what to believe. She sighed and went for her phone fumbling for her back pocket, and opening the tinder profile of ‘Jonathan’, “Explain this.”

The screen illuminated a photo of Grayson with the name Jonathan below it. He had still had long hair at this point, right before it’s annoyance shaggy length.Grayson was shirtless in the photo with a chain necklace around his neck. Grayson squinted to examine the photo on the app and chuckled as he passed it back to Veronica.

“You, my dear, got catfished. By someone posing to be, yours truly. I’ve never had tinder and haven’t used a dating app since I was like, fourteen..” Veronica rolled her eyes at his comment before scrunching her brows in confusion but not enough to continue to pry,”..don’t believe me? Search ‘Grayson Dolan’ on instagram or twitter, you’ll owe me an apology.” Grayson snapped as hurt in reply and turned away from the fabric keeping a distance between the two.

Grayson felt for Veronica, he could hear the pain in her silence, the sadness in her eyes, the facade of a mask she put on, even if he didn’t know her name, like her he had been pining for love. The same night he had been dumped via text by his ex girlfriend, also his ghost of days of business past, ex- assistant, before Sterling. He should have known it was a mistake, and Ethan warned him several times, but much like Veronica with OG Jonathan, he blamed love for his feelings.

Grayson was tired, wanting to head home with a cup of joe, but this unidentified juliet, across from him caught his eye, and there was no turning back.

The line shifted. Hesitantly she opened instagram and search the name and she stopped, in her tracks. She owed this man apology, Grayson Dolan, he was a real guy, with a huge following however she never heard of him. She followed him, sighed and put her phone back into her pocket.And yes, he was good looking, she fell for the looks a little more than the name.

“..i--i’m sorry. Guess you were right, I was wrong..” Veronica managed to croak out. Grayson’s phone notified him from his pocket, he checked it smirked, followed her back and placed it back into his pocket.

Grayson looked over to the brunette Brazilian to the right of him. She tapped her foot nervously, as she picked her brain for a better apology. She felt herself loosen, knowing he was just trying to help, and didn’t stood up. Her demeanor changes, this man was a kind stranger who just happened to be the man in the photos she was catfished with, the real Grayson did nothing wrong.

“-., so this Jonathan, what happened?” He asked looking into her dark brown eyes, meaning it. Wanting to know everything about the stranger that made him want to know here. She laughed flashing a smile all the while. Her laugh, Grayson thought. The way she talked and laughed, when she was enjoying herself, it was all so lyrical, it made him want to laugh.

He looked at Veronica, like, really looked at her. The way the lighting reflected on her sparkly eyeshadow. Her dark green eyes, her long luscious and free riding dark brown hair, that had been straightened from its naturally curly form.

“..Well, I uh, met him on Tinder and he stood me up. I just got out of a nast relationship and he was my rebound, but he’s probably some weird guy living in his mother's basement-” she sighed opening up to him. She smiled at her own comedic relief comment. Hiding behind humour was something she did.

Grayson laughed, becoming serious,”I’m sorry, that sucks. What about your ex?”he pried further, there were only three people in front of them, all by themselves, swarmed by the world living in their phones.

“He was a cheater, a drinker and beater, who just so also happened to be named Jonathan..” the negative memories stirred up again in front of her. The pain on her shoulder came back, so did the reminiscence, drawing and pulling her into a melancholy flashback.

~~~

"Where would you like me to go, hmm? Ronnie!" he shoved her to the ground and she fell backwards dislocating her shoulder. She winced in pain, it had pulsated throughout her body. She knew she had to do this, for herself, the well being of herself for once. Did she want to? No. It scared her. He scared her.

Once he got the clout he wanted he changed, he was living off of her earnings, living in her apartment at the time, using her car, and she was forced to nod and smile along with it like some big ugly joke of a play.

"How about for starters-" she managed between heavy sobs of pain and trying to prop herself against the reclining part of the sofa she was thrown in front of,"..hell? Take your toothbrush and your shave kit, and try some bleach in your cereal, i'm done. Okay? Go away, J!"

~~~

Ronnie was back to reality when she heard Gray's voice,"..Safe to assume you have a type, then?"he asked really looking at the beautiful woman in front of his eyes.

“Yeah. I try so hard but,”Veronica felt sad,” but, i’m never the one.” she felt even sadder memories of her ex flashing before her, she shrugged it off and continued,”…alone again, naturally, I guess.”

Grayson and Veronica were now the first in line,”Hey, let me buy your drink. Maybe we could be alone again, together…” Veronica smiled, and nodded.

“I’d like that..”

~~~

Later that night the two walked into the humid, yet comfortingly cool, heat together side by side after a two-hour conversation just on life.

“I, uh, better walk to my car.” Veronica said in front of Grayson’s porsche. Her jacket was around her shoulders and covered her arms,”I had fun, tonight” she held out a starbucks napkin she secretly wrote her number on, the wind tossed it gently back and forward. He smiled and breathed out a friendly, good night. He hated to see her go so soon, but would love to watch her leave.

“Wait, I never got your name-”he hollered down into the cold night on the streets of Los Angeles. Veronica turned around and continued walking backwards, her hair following and tracing her every move.

“It’s Veronica.” she breathed before giving him one last look with her deep green eyes and turning back down the sidewalk, heading to her car and driving into the night.

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

Should I make this a series? If so, what to name it, i’m thinking lyrical and each chapter is a song name? lmk.

AHH i'm nervous to post this, but fuck it, right? No day but today.

i’ll stop.

#grayson dolan #Ronnie loves Gray #grayson bailey dolan #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan x oc #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins #ill probably delete this in the morning #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fandom

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

Text

We Do This to Live Ch. 5

Chapter Five

Summary: On Earth-198742, there are no heroes. There’s humans. There’s mutants. There are even some that fall somewhere between. But when Boliver Trask manages to get the Sentinel program signed, it’s up to a thief and her brilliant sister to find those that still believe in something more - something good. And maybe, along the way, they’ll get the chance to save mutant kind.

Pairings: Rogue x Remy, Marie x Shuri (eventually), Geneva x Bucky (eventually)

Word Count: 3475 words

Warnings: Violence? Cussing? That sort of thing?

Masterlist to OCs - Masterlist to Other Works

Previous Chapter

---

“Y’the only t’ief crazy ‘nough t’steal more than is asked o’ya.”

Geneva shrugged from her spot on Marie’s bed. She had come home only a handful of hours ago and while she knew she should rest, her powers were matching her emotions. A constant hum was in the back of her ears and her nerves felt particularly prickly. Until she found out what all of this new information meant, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. “T’anks for takin’ a look.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Marie was impressed that in the last twenty-four hours, Geneva had not only caught Jean-Luc up on everything that had happened, but she’d duplicated the contents of the flash drive. It was sneaky…underhanded…and absolutely something Marie was proud of. “Don’t t’ank moi yet.” She clicked on a file. Lab results, videos, photos – everything one could ever hope to find – popped up over the multiple screens. Marie raised a brow, finding a particularly interesting piece of information. “This project was terminated ‘cause the mutant escaped.”

Geneva bit her lip, taking in the x-rays that showed a metal skeleton. A shiver ran down her spine. “What was his name?”

Marie glanced back at the redhead. She knew Geneva had always been hesitant to learn about more of her kind, but it seemed like she was shedding that fear as she got older. “Uh…” She looked back at the information, eyes flitting from each piece of the puzzle until she pulled up the patient’s name. There was a small photo with it. “James Logan Howlett.” Shock washed over her as she told Geneva, “He was military. Part o’that Cap’n America’s Howling Commandos.” A couple lines further down and she realized why this guy was so important. “His mutation was enhanced healin’. No way o’knowin’ ‘ow old the homme really is.”

The familiar creak of her bed let Marie know that Geneva had moved, no doubt standing behind her. The two stared at the sleeping face. A patient used for experimentation and yet…he looked so peaceful in that single image. Who knew what drugs were in his system?

“Ca va,” Geneva muttered, resting her arms on the back of Marie’s chair. “What else?”

Marie exited out of the Weapon X file. “T’ought y’said there were five files.” She glanced at Geneva. “There’s only four.”

“One o’them needed voice recognition t’even move the damn t’ing,” Geneva admitted, running a hand through her hair. “Was called the Sentinel Program.”

Marie’s nose scrunched. “Weird.” She clicked on the Avenger file. Scrolling through the files, her eyes widened. “Oh, mon dieu.”

“What?”

“Shush.” Marie kept scrolling, utterly amazed at the amount of information Geneva had gotten her hands on. “Gen, y’managed t’get the file on all the Avengers and what happened to ‘em. Not the bullshit the media gave us. The real story.”

“Sonovabitch…” Geneva’s eyes sparked a little brighter, excitement coursing through her at the idea of such important information. And she was the one who found it.

A knock came from the door, earning two sets of curious eyes as it opened. Rogue peeked her head inside, leaning against the doorframe. If she had opened it even half a second earlier, she would have caught sight of all the information the pair had been looking at.

Instead, she saw the inner workings of Essex Industries.

Closing her eyes, Rogue took a slow breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marie…”

“Technically not a government organization.” The excuse tumbled from Marie’s lips effortlessly, as if well practiced and thought out.

They had a deal. Marie could hack away to her heart’s content – but she had to stay out of government business. It wasn’t that Rogue and Remy weren’t proud of her capabilities. They just didn’t want to bring unwanted attention their way.

Rogue forced her shoulders to relax as she looked at the girls. “Just be careful.”

Marie threw a thumb’s up her way as Rogue stepped inside. Geneva, ruffling the tween’s hair, looked at her mom. “Somethin’ up, Mama?”

“Your grandfather told Rem and I how your first mission went. Wanted to congratulate ya.”

Geneva grinned, her powers shimmering under her cheekbones. “Merci.”

Rogue chuckled as she sat on the foot of Marie’s bed. “He also told us how Marie helped.”

Marie tensed, looking over her shoulder. It wasn’t a secret that Geneva and Marie hadn’t been seeing eye to eye. If she didn’t know better, Rogue would comment about how much she loved to see them spending time together once again.

But Rogue was a very smart woman. She knew to keep her mouth shut. At least regarding their mended friendship.

“I wanted to talk to you two ‘bout that,” Rogue told them, bouncing her leg as Marie spun in her chair. “Your dad knows that you’re talented, Gen. We’re not doubtin’ that,” she assured her daughter. Just like she had been at Geneva’s age, the teenager was still self-conscious about her own talents. “But where ya might not think everythin’ through, Marie does.”

Marie shrugged. “What’s your point? ‘M a phone call away. She’ll be fine.”

“We don’t want it to have to be a phone call, Marie.” Rogue sighed, looking between the girls before settling her gaze back on Marie. “I know bein’ a part of the Guild isn’t what ya want. And I don’t blame ya at all. This won’t require you to do anythin’ you don’t already. But when Geneva goes on assignments, we’d like it if ya worked together. Someone needs to have Gen’s back and know what to look for.”

Silence fell in the room. Rogue knew it was a hard sell and understood why. With what had happened to Henri, Marie didn’t trust Jean-Luc or the Guilds. She hardly trusted her uncle, Remy.

But…

“I don’t want anyt’in’ t’happen t’Gen. If my ‘elp can benefit ‘er then…” Marie shrugged. “Ca va. ‘M in.”

Rogue looked at her daughter. Geneva simply shrugged. “Sounds like fun t’moi.”

That night, the two were in Geneva’s small house. Her projector illuminated a blank wall, showing them the videos she had stolen.

There was Dr. Strange’s arrest. The Eye of Agamotto had been glowing so brightly against his chest, refusing to leave its owner. They took his cloak though, no matter how feisty it had tried to be.

Charles Xavier’s students being arrested, despite their age. The school being shut down. Xavier being injected with so many needles, so much medicine, that he looked like a husk of the brilliant telepath he had been.

There was a clip of Natasha standing trial, being asked questions she refused to answer.

Another with Stark in the same predicament except…he spoke too much. His confidence screamed arrogance to those deciding his fate. They couldn’t trust him.

Both walked out in cuffs.

Geneva remembered learning about them in school. Photos of the infamous Black Widow and Ironman, teachings of how they were traitors to humans.

“We should show this to Pere ‘n’ Mama,” she whispered, absentmindedly drawing circles on her inner knee.

Marie looked back at her. Her cousin, the mutant, looked so terrified. Curled against the wall as if everything she had been taught was a lie. The media had told so many stories about the evils of mutant-kind. Of the Avengers. It was easy to lose track of what you were supposed to believe. Marie remembered a time where Geneva refused to believe heroes even existed. As far as she knew, the redhead still clung to that belief. To her, the only ones that were good were her own parents.

“We can’t, Genny,” Marie told her, smiling at the annoyance that flashed across her face. It was better than the fear. “Y’pere wouldn’t let y’go on more missions. Y’know that.” Pausing the clips, Marie turned to face her entirely. Geneva’s eyes, staring so intently at the pale images, finally looked at Marie. “’M gonna be helpin’ now. Y’know that too. This way, we can keep learnin’ the truth. If we get enough, we can stop SHIELD.” She took Geneva’s hand in her own, not bothered by the slight shock that tingled her palm. “We gonna do this toget’er. Y’not alone.”

Geneva blinked, her eyes finding their hands. “’M not a hero, petite. Not tryin’ t’be one eit’er.”

Marie nodded. “I know.” She gently squeezed her hand. “And y’don’t ‘ave t’be. Just gotta promise that we do this together. Just us.”

Bringing Marie in to help Geneva provided an almost-guarantee that their daughter was going to be safe. Where Geneva didn’t naturally over-think, Marie did. She knew the security guards’ schedules. She anticipated changes whether they occurred or not. While Geneva was smart in her abilities, there were cracks that Marie managed to fill in.

They worked well together. Naturally performing like a well-oiled machine.

Knowing and seeing that, Jean-Luc sent Geneva on more missions. Bigger and higher stakes that made stealing a few files look like nothing. Not that Jean-Luc believed so. A single promise to Marie had Geneva gathering as much information as she could, sidelining it and keeping it under wraps from the man in charge of it all.

He had no idea that any inkling of HYDRA existed.

Or that he kept sending her in the middle of it.

“This ‘as t’be the stupidest idea,” Geneva muttered, knowing Marie was listening on the comm.

“Jeez, tell moi ‘ow y’really feel.”

Geneva snorted as she stepped into the service elevator, janitorial clothes hanging loosely off her figure. Her hair, tucked behind her ears and hidden well under the company hat, was kept out of sight and mind. It was a fair enough disguise. People were leaving to go home at about this hour. It meant less disturbances. On paper? It totally made sense.

In person? Dressing as a janitor to slip in and out of Pym Technologies? It was slightly more terrifying. A single ding came from above and she stepped out. Just ahead, two workers were hanging a new sign.

Trask Industries.

Nodding to the boys, she kept walking until she came across the janitorial closet. The ID card deftly slipped between her fingers as she asked, subtle accent perfectly intact, “Didn’t think to tell me Trask bought this place?”

Silence.

Geneva opened the door as she asked, “Marie?”

“I didn’t know.”

She hesitated, barely able to gather any sense before she was tugging that blasted janitorial cart out of the closet and down the hall. Her nerves were going haywire as she trudged along. This hadn’t been a part of the plan. Breaking into Pym’s was one thing, but Trask? Alexander Pierce’s best friend?

“Breathe, Genny. It’s gonna be okay.”

Geneva snorted. “Easy for you to say.” She visibly relaxed when that sign was finally out of sight. From here, she could at least pretend it didn’t exist. She could act as if she wasn’t walking into a warzone entirely unprepared.

The doors opened with a hiss. She slipped inside, the doors closing behind her. Metal walls surrounded her, long labs stretching here and there. A quick glance to the last specialist was enough for Geneva to focus on taking out the trash.

“T’ink this is the most I’ve seen y’clean after someone else.”

Geneva wanted to snap at that, but she knew better. Each table had a small trash can next to it and by the time she had gotten to the fourth, the dweeby scientist was finally leaving. She set the bin down. As she looked up, a loose strand of hair fell free. She was alone.

Well, sort of.

“What’s the passcode,” she asked as she walked to the back of the room. There was a second door made of heavy metal. A keypad too. On the other side, something that might help them with sneaking just a little bit more. Geneva glanced through the window. No doubt it was thick glass. Probably bullet-proof.

“135081965.”

The keypad beeped with every input, followed by a much longer one as the door unlocked itself. “Any tricks I should know ‘bout?”

“Shouldn’t be, non. The glass’ll be thick, but y’powers should be able to handle that.”

Geneva chuckled as she took the hat off, shoving it in one of her many pockets. “Should bein’ th’key word, right,” she muttered, almost closing the door before stepping further inside.

The room was massive, bigger than the one before. It made no sense to her. The glass bubble, thick glass secured by metal, was the only thing in the room. And its contents were the smallest thing she’d ever seen.

“There’s no way that’s an actual suit.” Geneva circled the glass.

“It’s called the Yellow Jacket.”

Geneva looked up, bright eyes sparking a little brighter. But... Who the hell? There was no one in the room. “Marie? T’ought y’said no tricks.”

“I got nothin’.”

“Oh! Sorry. Uh…give me a second.”

Geneva’s jaw ticked, fingers crackling with electricity. A static filled the air and prickled her skin before a figure appeared in front of her. A red suit, silver helmet and red lenses, and…was he just small?

“I’m Ant-man.”

“What’s happenin’, Genny?”

Geneva didn’t say anything to Marie. This was the first time she had ever really crossed paths with someone that wasn’t…normal. “I – I’m Geneva.”

“Gen, what’s goin’ on?”

He tilted his head. “That’s your alter-ego name?”

Geneva’s brow furrowed. She shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Oh!” He pressed a button and Geneva curled her fist. She couldn’t help it. It was simply instinct. But seeing the helmet disappear, she was met with a…surprisingly kind face. Well, there was no way the guy was a thief or assassin. “I’m Scott.”

Definitely not an assassin.

“Geneva, be careful. You don’t – “

“Guessing we’re after the same thing?” He pointed to the suit between them. Something so small and so protected. Just how powerful was the thing?

Geneva took the comm out of her ear. She could hardly think with that thing in her ear. Shoving it in her pocket, she dropped the fake accent and told Scott, “’Fraid y’not the one that’s goin’ t’walk away with it.”

Scott huffed. “Look, we’re both thieves, right?”

She shrugged. “Eh. Maybe not on the same level.”

And with that – the lights flickered off.

Geneva’s eyes lit up, glowing in the new darkness. She recognized the whizz that came from Scott’s helmet, but paid him little attention. He wasn’t where her focus was needed. Fingers brushing against the glass, she watched it tremble.

But before it could shatter – something small and heavy hit her stomach.

Geneva’s back slammed into the wall. Fluorescents shattered above as Scott reappeared. Now – between her and her prize.

A hand pressed to her abdomen, she asked, “Were y’just petite?”

“Did you do that?” Scott’s hand pointed to the ceiling.

It seemed to dawn on them at the same time. Maybe this wasn’t going to be an easy assignment for either of them.

Geneva dropped low. Her staff extended. Swiping at his legs, she smirked when he landed on his ass.

Scott groaned. “You’re not a normal janitor, are you?”

“What clued y’in?” Her eyes sparked a little brighter and her staff lit up, crackling with her powers.

She swung for his head. He rolled, shrinking down to an impossibly small size. Geneva hopped to her feet. “Where the fuck…?” She looked around, desperate to catch sight of any sort of movement.

Something.

Anything.

She felt the tug at her wrist. A twist and jerk forced her hand behind her back. Pinned between her shoulders. Geneva hissed. She stumbled towards the wall, her hand pressing against the metal before her jaw could.

“Sonova…” She growled. Electricity shimmered over her hair, flying towards the lights. They burned ever so bright.

“Ah, fuck!”

There he was.

Her power surged through her pinned arm and –

ZzZzAP

Scott flew through the air. She spun, watching a small dent appear in the metal protecting the yellowjacket’s case. He grew in size, twitching here and there. The sparks of electricity still dancing on his suit zapped through the air, seeping once more into her skin.

Her veins and scars lit up as she threw a punch. There was too much going wrong with this assignment. She needed to wrap it up. Marie’s warning now long forgotten, Geneva aimed for his head. He dropped, vanishing once more as her fist, and her powers, shattered the metal and glass.

An alarm rang.

Scott reappeared behind her as the door swung shut. Locked.

With no way out.

“Ya sonova – “ Geneva turned towards him, eyes wide and panicked as Scott’s helmet vanished.

“I didn’t do it! You did!”

“Y’coulda let moi hit ya!”

Scott huffed, crossing his arms as if waiting for her to realize how ridiculous that sounded.

“I know ‘ow it sounds and ‘m not takin’ it back.” She turned away from him. Pressing a hand to the door, she focused on her abilities.

That was when the room’s light went red.

“Whoa.”

Geneva looked over her shoulder. Scott’s attention was still focused on her, staring at her appearance. “What?”

“Well, when the lights went red, it…” He pointed to her skin.

Geneva followed his gaze. Her skin, once glowing brilliantly, looked as normal as it possibly could. Her brow furrowed. The familiar buzz in her ears…the tingle to her skin…Those things she had grown so used to…

It was all gone.

She stumbled then, exhaustion tugging at the corners of her eyes. Scott stepped forward, offering her a hand. “Hey, careful.” He helped her lean against the wall, oblivious to the gas that was appearing through skinny vents. “Are you okay?”

Geneva blinked slowly, looking around. Her comm link. She needed – Her eyes drifted to the gas. Squeezing his hand, she nodded towards it. Their fight forgotten, survival seemed far more important. “’M powers make moi so…”

“It’s okay. I understand. You’re a little battery, aren’t you?” It was a lighthearted joke, something to make her laugh and hopefully wake her up a bit. He glanced at the gas, noticing how it started to fill the room. His helmet appeared, a barrier for him though he couldn’t do anything for her.

“Y’should…” She coughed, resting her head against the wall. “Go. S’meone is bound t’show up and there’s…” Another cough, this time followed by a yawn. “No point in us both getting’ caught.”

“You were ready to kick my ass a minute ago.”

Geneva shrugged, offering a weak smile. She saw his eyes through those weird red lenses. He was concerned and she appreciated it. “That was a minute ago. Sil vous plait, go.”

Another minute passed. A part of Scott didn’t want to leave her. It seemed inhumane. If this was still Hank’s building, he might consider it, but the whole reason he was here was because of Trask. The man was changing everything. He had a plan. He had power. And he had had enough of both to push Hank out of his own company.

But if he stayed…what would happen to Cassie?

“I’m sorry. I – “

She shook her head, pushing his hand away. It was then he noticed how green her eyes were. Like pretty jewels. “Don’t. Jus’ go.”

Scott took a step back, shrinking just in time for the door to open. He stumbled back, feet brushing against the vent just as the door opened. Geneva seemed to be drifting between consciousness and sleep, eyes barely able to stay open. With one last apology, Scott stepped through the vent, making his escape.

Geneva allowed herself to smile, relieved that at least both of them wouldn’t be caught. Competition was one thing, but prison? No, she wouldn’t wish that on anyone. She looked up, nodding slightly as masked guards came in. And right behind them, someone much smaller stepped inside.

Trask.

She grinned. “Y’lot shorter than I ‘magined.”

“And you,” he told her, voice muffled by his own mask. “Were almost smarter than I anticipated.”

Marie sat in her chair, curled up to look as small as possible. The shouting down the hall did nothing to ease the tears slipping down her cheeks. Sniffling, she wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked to the News.

“After apprehending a mutant thief, Boliver Trask has looked to SHIELD in hopes of fast-tracking his newest creation. With long-time friend Alexander Pierce holding office as Secretary of SHIELD, it appears this mutant’s actions were all that was needed to fast track what they are now calling the Sentinel Program. SHIELD officials have plans to introduce these creations to our larger cities first and - ”

She turned the screen off. Head hitting the chair behind her, Marie listened to Remy and Rogue screaming at each other. Shouting blame. Shouting worries.

Another sniffle as Marie stared at the ceiling.

What was going to happen to them now?

Permanent Tags:

@butcherofblackwater

#marvel au #xmen au #mutant ofc #marvel ofc #xmen ofc #original female characters #geneva lebeau #marie lebeau #oc x canon #canon x canon #oc x cc

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itsallabigmess · 5 years

Text

Boy Next Door

This scenario was requested by the lovely @jalapeno-princess

A/N: You know, Jinyoung became my writing muse but lately Mark is really doing anything he can to claim the spot.

Ashley, you asked for fluff with maybe some smut but I got the choose the plot. So I’m just gonna give you some cute Neighbors AU. I hope you like this one.

Also, I always try my best to not describe OC’s body, so anyone who reads my scenarios can try to see themselves in OC’s place (’cause I know a lot of fic readers like to do so) but in this one, the OC is Chubby (purposely).

(I also know there are a million of fics and stories with the same name, but honestly, I couldn’t think of a better one. So yeah, it is what it is.)

But even so, I just hope anyone who reads it can enjoy it.

You stopped for a full minute before climbing the few steps to your building. The sight of a man sleeping right at the glass door making you wish you had accepted your friend’s invitation to sleepover at her place. But after the unpleasant evening you had, you wanted nothing more than to wear some comfy clothes and enjoy the comfort of your bed.

A deep breath later and without much of an option, you moved up, mentally ready to throw the shopping bag you carried at the man’s head if he tried anything. But as you got closer and the light sensors noticed your presence, you realized the man was no strange at all.

“Mark?” you called the name of your next-door neighbor. His head was leaning back against the wall, the hoodie covering half of his face as his arms hugged his backpack tightly. You called him a few more times before dropping the shopping bag on the floor, moving close to give his shoulder a not so gentle shake. It took you almost a minute to make him wake from the deep sleep he somehow put himself in.

“Are you drunk?” you asked once Mark was standing, watching as he stretched his body and grunted in complain.

“No, just tired,” Mark smiled shyly, pulling the hoodie down and ruffling his already messy hair. “I’ve been taking double shifts all weak.”

“And resting on your bed wouldn’t feel better than sleeping on the street?”

“I got myself locked out,” he sighed, looking at his own feet as if it was the stupidest thing on earth. “And apparently, my roommate isn’t home. His boyfriend is in town, and he’s not picking up his phone, so I guess they are just out partying.”

“Wanna crash on my couch until they come back?” you offered, reaching for the keys on the back pocket of your jeans, watching as Mark fixed the strap of his backpack in one shoulder and reached to catch your shopping bag.

“We keep a spare key hidden in a hole over the door frame, but thanks.” He smiled. “Besides, you seem like you are going to have company,” Mark shook the shopping bag lightly, nodding and the pizza box you held with your other hand.

“Oh yeah, I have a pajama party for one ahead of me,” you said trying not to sound so annoyed. The cute guy walking on your side didn’t need to know that drinking beer and eating pizza alone on your couch wasn’t exactly what you expected of your Friday night. Even though it wasn’t exactly a surprise that things headed that way.

Mark waited until you opened your door before giving you the bag back and thanked you with the brightest smile someone could give. It was enough to make your evening better, even if just a little. A feeling you always had any time you saw him. But it didn’t take a full minute, you already unpacking the content of the bag over the countertop of the kitchen when you heard a knock on your door.

“Is your couch still available?” Mark asked, his face completely red.

“You couldn’t find the key?” you asked, giving space for him to enter.

“Oh, I found the key,” he said, heading straight to of the barstools you had, dropping the backpack over the counter. “But I also found my roommate completely naked going full in on his boyfriend, also naked, on the couch I plan to burn first thing in the morning.”

You tried to control a laugh to the sight of Mark burying his face on his palms, fingers pressing his eyes as hard as he could in a futile attempt to erase the traumatizing image he witnessed just a minute before. You catch a beer bottle inside the fridge and taps on his shoulder, Mark gladly drinking half of it in a blink of an eye.

“I’m glad a bought more,” you take a sip of your own bottle after raising it in his direction in a silent “cheer”.

“Is it really okay for me to sleep here? You look like you are about to meet someone.” he gestured at you with the bottle in his hand.

“If you mean I look good, thanks.” You smiled, moving the now open pizza box to Mark, encouraging him to get a slice. “But no, I just came back from somewhere, actually.”

“A date? Was it bad?”

“The worse, but I’m starting to get used to it,” you shrugged it off. “Look, you are not gonna sleep in my couch with those clothes after sitting on the street.”

You left mark alone for a couple of minutes and came back holding a clean towel and some sweaters you were sure would fit him more than fine. With a mouth still full of pizza he winked at you and headed to where you pointed your bathroom was, the sound of water running reaching your ears a minute later.

When he met you again, you had already prepared the couch for him and put away everything you had shopped, leaving only the pizza and another beer bottle for Mark over the counter. You told him to make himself comfortable as you headed for an also needed hot shower.

It was the first time Mark had been inside your apartment. Ever since you moved to this building over a year ago, you seemed to always bump into him in the corridor, at the laundry room, or even at nightly visits to the market close by. Mark had always been friendly and even though he was not the most talkative person on earth you always seem to have something to talk about. Even if it was just about food.

You never had a deep conversation before to think of yourselves as close friends, but you sure felt at ease with him. Or so you thought until you left the shower and felt conflicted about what you should wear. If Mark wasn’t there you would put yourself in some shorts and a bed shirt, or maybe just stay in your underwear. But having someone, some guy that you found highly attractive on your living room made you strangely self-conscious.

When it felt like you were taking too long you put yourself in a pair of plaid pants and some loosen shirt and tried to push away any unnecessary insecurity. After all, you were just being a good neighbor. Not trying to impress him in any way. Not that you felt like you could do such a thing.

“So, you want to talk about it?” Mark asked casually after devouring another slice of pizza, cleaning the grease off his fingertips. “The date… You seemed upset.”

“Did I?” You kept your eyes on the bottle in your hand, surprised he had noticed the feeling you tried to hide. You gave a little shrug, taking a sip. “It was just… It was a blind date, and I guess I wasn’t what he expected.” You said, remembering the disappointed look on your date’s face once you introduced yourself. “He acted like he didn’t want to be there the whole time but also didn’t know how to just leave so I did him the favor. It’s fine…” You said after receiving a long look front Mark, feeling some form of pity in his sight. “Honestly, wasn’t the first time, but I decided it’s gonna be the last. I’m done with blind dates.”

“You went in a lot of those?”

“A few. Most of my friends are dating now and I guess I don’t look the most comfortable when they start with all the pda,” you scoffed, another cold sip sliding down your throat. “So they’ve been trying to introduce me to all these guys but none of them seem to like the fact that I look like… me.” You said, looking down at your own body, the curves of your belly well apparent under the fabric of your shirt.

“I’m starting to think your friends don’t really like you,” Mark pointed out candidly, making you laugh.

“Yeah, I guess they are just so used to me, they forget not everyone is into dating people like me.”

“You are right, some guys really don’t know how to date smart, funny, cute girls.” You looked at Mark to see him smiling gently at you, moving his bottle to bump against yours delicately before you two drank what was left inside, a tingling forming on your cheeks by his compliment. “You know you are all that, right?”

“I know,” you answered, your voice sounding a bit too low. “But sometimes it really pisses me off how people like to remind me that I don’t look like they think I should.”

“Y/N, if I dated you, I would make sure to tell you how gorgeous you are every day.”

You straightened your back, eyes as wide as they could be. You questioned yourself if what you heard was actually said by him or if the beer was starting to bring the secret, silent crush you nurtured for Mark to the surface. You turned your face to him just barely, having a glimpse of his face covered by soft tone of pink.

“Mark, if I knew you were going to help inflate my ego, I would have invited you for a pizza a long time ago.” You tried to say jokily, in hopes to break the tension that was starting to form between you too.

“I mean it, though,” Mark smiled, the flush on his cheeks being replaced by a little smirk. It made you confused, your head tilting to the side as you watched his hand moving closer over the counter, almost enough to touch yours.

“But you wouldn’t date, Mark.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you turned completely to him, baffled that he couldn’t see how what he was stating was stupid. “Mark, you look like you could be on the cover of a fashion magazine while I,” you waved your hands to your own body, ignoring the frown forming on Mark’s face “I look like… the girl next door who was just dumped by another date.”

Mark giggled, maybe of what you said, or maybe at the expression you were making, shaking his head. The sound would usually make your heart flutter but instead, it made you annoyed. A guy like him would never date you. You were sure of that. Hell, you had an entire month of dates with guys that didn’t even look as great as Mark and still dumped you before anything could actually happen.

“Let’s be honest, Mark. You would feel embarrassed about having me by your side,” you emphasized.

“How can you think that?”

“Just another thing I heard before,” you let your head fall, the memory of another excruciating date coming to mind.

“Okay, can I address that?” he said, his knees pressing against yours, fingers moving to lift your chin until your eyes met his. “For me, you are just perfect.”

And before you could protest, Mark was leaning over you, his lips pressing against yours, warm and soft. You can’t say you haven’t thought about it before. How it would be to kiss him. To touch him. But so sure that it would never happen, you were too shocked to return the kiss.

“Would you mind…” you stutter once Mark parted the kiss, his eyes still focused on your lips. “Would you mind doing it again?”

Mark smirked and you anticipated for his mouth to meet yours again. But instead, he got up from the stool, placing himself in between your legs. Your eyes followed his hands moving up and down your thighs and hips, before moving up to your waist, back, reaching your arms and placing it around his neck.

You felt your entire body heat up as his gaze traveled from your eyes, to temples, cheeks until finally stopping at your parted lips, Mark lowering his face to finally taste you. You let yourself relax this time, your legs closing around his hips as he pressed his upper body against yours, the action contrasting with how languid the kiss was.

It lasted minutes but it might as well have lasted hours. Mark felt and tasted better than you ever dreamed, and you could easily see yourself losing any notion of time and space under his touch.

“Believe in me now?” Mark asked breathlessly, his lips moving down your face until they could find your neck.

“I don’t know,” you sighed in pleasure at the feeling of the tip of his tongue drawing circles on your skin. “Maybe you just don’t want to sleep on the couch.”

Mark laughed against the crook of your neck, leaning back to look at you. “As tempting as I feel to be in your bed,” he sighed, cupping your face “We still have to figure out a few things before that.”

“Like what?”

“Like where I’m going to take you tomorrow night,” Mark smiled, the tip of his nose brushing slowly against yours. “You haven’t been treated right and I need to fix that.”

You smiled against his lips before releasing the embrace you still kept with your legs around him, Mark stepping back after dropping a last smooch on your cheek. He helped clean the kitchen and proposed watching a movie before you went to bed, the tiredness he had when you first met him earlier that night being pushed to the side so Mark could spend a few more minutes with you.

And while you were sitting side by side at the couch, his arm behind your back, finger drawing little circles on your shoulder, you started to overthink about how the night turned out. Mark never looked at you differently, he never mentioned about you two hanging out alone, even if as just friends. You knew he had a shy personality but by how he kissed you just minutes before, it was hard to believe he wouldn’t make a move on anyone he was interested with. Even if a subtle one. And he was definitely not subtle about sticking his tongue on your mouth.

It made you anxious and nervous about how the ways this, whatever this was, could go wrong. By the little you knew of Mark, it was hard to believe he would just play with another person emotions.

But then again, you didn’t know him that well.

“You won’t make me fall for you just to break my heart, will you?” you asked, feeling a cage form around inside your chest, squeezing your heart tightly. Having bad dates, that you could handle. Being heartbroken, not so much.

“You see,” Mark said gently, his palm once again reaching for your face. “We still have a lot to figure out. You don’t even see how you could be the one breaking hearts here.”

“I don’t even see how you could ever fall for me,” you admitted, your insecurities speaking louder than anything else.

His thumb moved lightly over your cheek, Mark pressing a small kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry, I’ve been heading that way for a while now.”

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chenria · 4 years

Text

OC interview

I was tagged by @highexarchs and @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth... so I am doing this for Brianne. And I am tagging whoever wants to do this...

name ➔ She puts the tankard down and glowers from across the table. “Who wants to know?” With a sigh she rolls her eyes. “Fine... Brianne Evervale, at your service.”

are you single ➔ She snorts, it’s not an amused sound, more a mix of annoyance and reluctance. “Sure, you could say that,” she just mutters and waves for another beer.

are you happy ➔ “If I get to drink quietly without being asked weird questions...” Her eyes are dark when she looks at you from across the table.

are you angry ➔ “Not yet... here to tempt me?”

are your parents still married ➔ Brianne glares at you. “Well, my parents were still alive when they died... so they never separated if that answers your question?”

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “Silvermoon City, you know, that place nobody goes to anymore because ugh... I swear, if I see one more magic broom I use it and shove it up someone’s...” She stops herself by taking a swing from her new arriving beer.

hair color ➔ The laugh is humorless. “You suddenly lost your eyesight?”

eye color ➔ “Sin’dorei green... duh” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

birthday ➔ “Old enough to know better but apparently still too young to not make stupid mistakes.

mood ➔ "Peachy,” she just growls.

gender ➔ "I don’t see why that’s any of your business, pal...”

summer or winter ➔ “Does it actually matter?” She looks out of the window of the bar. “War knows no seasons...”

morning or afternoon ➔ She shrugs. “Nights.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ There is just a “hmpfing” sound coming from her, it sounds rather annoyed.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Stupidest concept ever made up by some goblin I suppose to sell some candy and flowers or whatever.”

who ended your last relationship ➔ “Hmm, let me think,” Brianne said without actually thinking about it. “I would say I did, he would probably tell you he ended it... let’s agree that it’s over.”

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “I would have very much preferred to break his bones. Don’t know about anyone’s hearts...”

are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No, but some people are.” She shrugs and drowns her next thought in beer.

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Loki,” she just states and points at the fox sleeping on the chair next to her.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “If so they were secret enough not to let me know,” she mumbles into her glass.

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ She just stares more into her glass without saying anything.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ “Neither. It’s not worth it.”

lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Cold beer. I want to see you at the frontlines trying to brew tea... the next orc would just crush your cup and make you look like a fool. No thank you.”

cats or dogs ➔ "Foxes are like the perfect alternative. Not as slobby as a dog and not as indifferent as cats.” She pets Loki between the ears and for the first time a fond smile plays on her lips.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ The smile fades away quickly. “War never leaves room for many friends.”

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “If you consider a wild night out hunting Alliance in the dark... yes, that sounds fun.”

day or night ➔ “Are you even listening to anything I say? I already told you earlier that I prefer the night.” She shakes her head and you notice she is growing impatient.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “When my parents were still alive I had no reason to sneak out, later there was no reason for me to care if anyone noticed.” She shrugs.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Why do you think I would tell you if I had?” she asks in return with a frown.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ There is no answer to this question because Brianne pointedly ignores you.

wanted to disappear ➔ “I did for several years actually. You could try it, too...”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ "I fell for both and learned the hard way that you can still end up with a knife in your back. So neither.”

shorter or taller ➔ “Taller, sheesh... if anything taller. Because shorter would raise the possibility it’s a gnome or a goblin and... nope.” She shakes her head and shudders at the thought alone´.

intelligence or attraction ➔ “You know, sometimes I think life would be easier of not everyone was such a smartass...”

hook-up or relationship ➔ “If anything the occasional hook-up is bound with a lot less difficulties than relationships with guys who suddenly realize they might have a small problem with the faction you belong to.”

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ “Parents are dead, as I said before. Listen, dammit. My brother... he’s surely somewhere...” She shrugs and doesn’t elaborate further.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ A humorless laugh escapes her. “Yeah.”

have you ever ran away from home ➔ “If fleeing because it was destroyed is the same to you as running away...”

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Of bars? Oh, more often than you might think...”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Good think I have no friends that I could hate,” she just says.

who is your best friend ➔ “Loki.” She looks fondly to her fox once more.

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “My fox is a good friend, thank you for asking.”

who knows everything about you ➔ “I do and that’s enough,” she just says and rises from her chair. Loki instantly gets up to his feet as well. “Thanks for paying the tab for me.” With a wink she leaves the bar.

#wow headcanons #wow oc: brianne #oc interview

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idealmadman · 4 years

Text

R U L E S

*Semi-Selective/Private blog. Please message me first if you’d like to Roleplay! I just like to get to know the person behind the mask (haha) before I start writing with them.

*No Callout-Culture is tolerated. If you don’t like how I write or what I write, you’re free to block me. I honestly don’t notice half the time unless you’re loud about it. But if you make a Callout Post, I have a right to defend myself and will do so if it’s needed. I also know drama, especially Roleplay drama, is the stupidest thing on earth. It will always be tagged so that people who don’t want to see it can easily breeze past it!

*Debatable about NSFW. I’m not sure? If someone wanted to write NSFW, it’d probably be done privately. I really only write that stuff with close friends.

*Heavy topics including mental illness and gore and trauma for Roleplay is welcome! It’s literally my muse’s job to interact with these things, so I don’t mind them. Not gore obviously but if it comes up I’m usually fine with it.

*No OCs or non-persona characters, please! Just a personal preference of mine.

*Bro I’m pretty sure that’s it. Writing is a creative platform and I’m willing to experiment! As long as you’re kind and you want to write with me and have fun, I’m gonna be on board. The most vital part of my rules is the fact I’m semi-selective, so keep that in mind. I don’t mind writing with multiple versions of the same muse, but I’d like to get to know each person a little first.

*As the man says himself... it’s open! My DMs and askbox, that is.

A B O U T

*Hello! I go by Red on this blog, so there’s a name for you. I’m also a guy and go by he/him, so there’s that as well

*I should be able to reply semi-frequently, but I’ve got a job and pets to take care of and my own personal hobbies, so it depends! You can always DM me a reminder though, I don’t mind.

*Timezone is PST! So if you’re wondering if it’s super late for me. There u go!

*I’m 18. So, full disclosure, sometimes I like NSFW and by the Law I can write that shit. But also, again, I’m usually not comfortable with writing NSFW with people I dont know and I’m not totally solid on how I feel with Maruki and NSFW yet.

*hoo hoo! that’s it. thank you!

#RULES tag #ABOUT tag

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athena1138 · 5 years

Note

3, 7, 9, 12 for Asena or Marynn

By “or” you mean “and” right?

3. If they made a five song playlist, what songs would they want on it and why?

Oof, yeah I deserved that lol

Asena

The Devil You Know by Kovacs, because though she’s a very controlled person, she just wants to go apeshit every now and then, and something about Kovacs’s voice just touches that emotion in her. Plus Kovacs is really attractive

Hallelujah I Love Her So by Hugh Laurie, because she likes swing-y music like that, and it’s hella relatable

Soon We’ll Be Found by Sia, because it’s a good, slow kitchen-dancing beat

The Way by Kehlani, because it’s fun to sing, and it’s a good degree of pop but it isn’t too over the top in any one direction of emotion so she can jam to it p much whenever.

Tous Les Mêmes from Stromae, because Stromae’s voice, French, the presentation and representation of gender fluidity, the duality of man, the entire fucking thing is a masterpiece, and it’s fitting that Stromae gets his stage name from Maestro. (And his design brand name Mostrae, but eh)

Marynn

Tough Lover from Christina Aguilera, becase... cmon.

Voodoo by Godsmack, because even though she’s never pursued it, she’s a little interested in magic, and she’s also smol and angery and it satisfies.

Midnight by Swingrowers because it’s a hella beat and 11/10 can get TURNT UP.

Money by Ivy Levan, because firstly, angery, secondly, the video is a MOOD, thirdly, Marynn is pretty much all about the money (albeit, so she can help others, but still.)

Secrets by Mary Lambert because it... it all applies, pretty much every word.

7. Out of an impulsive decision your OC dyes their hair and gets a whole new outfit, what do they now look like?

Ooh

Asena would dye her hair a bright fire-color, like yellow at the ends and bright orange at the top in a sort of ombre, 2-tone gradient type thing.

like this

(And an undercut isn’t... out of the question.) In-game, she’d switch it up from the white-tunic and brown-pant type of Inq. clothes to something more dramatic, like a long coat that cinches at the waist and a big shiny belt which she’d hang a sword that she’ll never use off of. In-story, she normally wears pretty down-to-earth shit outside of work (hoodies, jeans, expensive but not ugly sneakers.) She might upgrade a little, invest in some nicer jeans, start wearing boots, skip the hoodies and go for tank tops and things to show off her amazing mascles.

Dying Marynn’s hair would be tricky because her beard grows in so fast, it would have to either go with it, or she’d have to keep up with shaving and that’s a Chore(tm.) She might dye it a dark green

like this

Firstly, a new wardrobe for Marynn would have to 1) be functional for her efforts as a rogue, and 2) she’d like to have clothes that actually... fit? Her pants and boots are literally just human clothes because she couldn’t find any dwarven shit in a decent price range after leaving Markihm. The tits-out look is a favorite, for obvious reasons, but she might invest in something a little more reserved? If she’s dying he hair green, she might want it to be a warm color so she doesn’t get washed out, maybe a maroon-ish dark red? Probably a tank top, and a black cloak that she’ll almost definitely have to hem to her height, and black pants with well-fit boots for a change.

9. Your OC makes a poster and ships it to their best friend, what does the poster have on it and how does their best friend respond?

Asena’s best friends are Gemma and Bull. For Gemma, it’d be a play on the Fine Dwarven Crafts Direct from Orzammar, except it’d be a picture of Gemma’s face on it because Gemma is a fine Dwarven craft and is from Orzammar. Gemma would lose her shit and hang it on her door. Bull’s would be a little one, just a quick doodle of his and her horns that says “horns up” between them, maybe with a bunch of little symbols to represent the Chargers scattered about. He’d love it and probably keep it folded up in his pack.

Marynn’s non-Flora best friend was this one waitress named Ingra who’d worked at her father’s tavern with her for years, and she’d send her something with a stupid limerick on it, like a super detailed drawing of a lovely sight line and the limerick would say something like, “There once was a girl from Markihm, who decided to leave on a whim. She traveled so far, met a cute girl in a bar, who said her beard needs a trim,” with a little angry face at the end. The friend would hang it in the tavern bc Marynn was well-liked by pretty much everyone who frequented lol. FOR FLORA THOUGH? Bruh, it’d be a drawing of a bunch of flowers scattered about and at the bottom it’d say something stupid and corny like, “They told me to get you a rose so I got you a whole damn field” because she’s really bad at the flirting but fuck she wants to try so hard. How she reacts? Hopefully well? :D?

12. If your OC has to describe their best friend, how would they describe them?

Asena frequently describes hers lol. Gemma is a tiny, irresponsible, foul-mouthed, asshole of a woman, but gods she’s so easy to love. Bull is the same, but taller.

Marynn would say Ingra is one of the stupidest bitches in all of Markihm, hands down dumber than the barrels of ale she serves every day, and she loves the fuck out of her. Flora? Marynn would just kinda... break down because Holy Fucking Dumathoin, she’s incredible.

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nataliesewell · 6 years

Text

monster prom pop quiz results

I was bored, so I decided to try and record all the questions and answers in Monster Prom’s Stupidest Pop Quiz Ever(tm). It’s really likely I haven’t found them all, so I’ll come back and add to this from time to time.

The pop quiz consists of three questions; the first two go towards determining your highest stats at the beginning of the game, while the third chooses your possible prom date (this isn’t set in stone; you can still try to pursue a different character in the actual game). The order of the questions is randomized.

Other links: Vera Walkthrough

You can find the questions and their results under the cut!

stat questions

What is your spirit emoji?

a. Caucasian guy with a turban because fuck stereotypes. +CREATIVITY

b. Octopus emoji. Best animal on Earth. I know 5 mixed drinks, 3 drug cocktails, and 17 sex positions that involve one or several octupi. +FUN

c. Snowman, because that motherfucker is in the middle of a blizzard and he’s fuckin’ smiling. He doesn’t give a fuck about blizzards. And he has a kickass hat. +BOLD

It’s your chance to fix global warming. Go ahead!

a. Global warming isn’t real. I invented it, and now science is claiming authorship because science is a lame copycat with no original ideas. +CREATIVITY

b. Nah, the world is doomed. But I’ll start investing in ships and start a profitable business for the “soon to be covered by water” world. +WEALTH

c. It’s time to be a real hero: I’ll lead a mission to the sun in order to... invite the sun to the party of its life! We’ll have so many hilarious misadventures that the sun will eventually become... cooler. ;) +FUN

Be a visionary: what will the next big social media craze be?

a. Bull$hit: it’s Facebook, but each time someone shares news that isn’t supported by real facts, they’re taxed, and the money goes to the people exposed to that bullshit. +WEALTH

b. Greek Agoras: like literal Greek agoras re-instated in our cities. Places where philosophy and arts are discussed by the greater minds. That’s the social media I want to log into! +SMARTS

c. Rbert: from now on, a socially awkward guy named Robert will do everything he’s commanded to do through the app by its users! +CHARM

You wish you were raised by...

a. A mysterious old man who saved me from the streets in order to raise me as his disciple in the ancient ways of rad DJing! +FUN

b. A pack of wild wolves... who also happens to be tech moguls who own some of the most profitable companies of Silicon Valley. They would be kick-ass role models AND wild wolves! Sick! +WEALTH

c. A really progressive marriage between a kick-ass venomous snake and... actual fire. I love fire and I see no issue with being raised by it. +BOLD

You build a 100ft statue commemorating an event so that in 1000 years archaeologists can learn something about the people of our time. What does the statue represent?

a. That glorious instant when your friend stopped you from texting embarrassing stuff to your ex while hella drunk. +FUN

b. That mind-blowing twist in your favourite TV show that clearly changed the life of everyone forever, unlike all that boring stuff they show on the news. +CREATIVITY

c. Your least favourite political figure... being devoured by rabid rhinoceri... which are also covered in badass tattoos. +BOLD

Which is the coolest mythological creature?

a. The invisible hand of the free market. +WEALTH

b. A sphinx... who’s super turnt up and ready to party! And she raps all her riddles (she still kills you if you don’t answer them correctly... but she raps the riddles)! +FUN

c. This weird creature I drew when I was six and which is clearly super derivative from other mythological creatures... but it’s super cool and it’s my OC and my spirit animal, okay? +CREATIVITY

You’re elected president for a day. What’s the first law you pass?

a. You can deduct taxes by writing sonnets instead. Amount of taxes deducted are calculated based on the beauty of the sonnets. +CREATIVITY

b. Trivia fact: presidents don’t pass laws... so is this a trick question or are you just being an idiot? +SMARTS

c. One dollar bills will now include a picture of me and the inscription “Beware: Too Much Awesomeness.” My presidency might last a day, but my fame will last forever! +CHARM

A radioactive possum just bit you... what superpowers did you get?

a. The superpower of always choosing the right combination of emojis to get the desired reaction from all people: seducing my loved ones, burning my enemies, settling an argument, and even conveying complex emotional thoughts. +CHARM

b. Uh, probably rabies? I’d go to a hospital immediately. +SMARTS

c. The incredible power of writing fanfiction so compelling that the actual creators of the TV shows decide to go with my ideas and crazy ships. +CREATIVITY

School is outdated and lame. We need a new school subject asap!

a. Critical thought. I mean... damn, this country could really use a subject like that in schools. +SMARTS

b. Turning people into your puppets through emotional warfare and deception 101. +CHARM

c. How to correctly punch a crocodile without terrible consequences. +BOLD

If you had to have sex with animal... which animal would it be?

(You don’t get six answers; the three answers you get are randomized.)

a. A great white shark. I have to fuck an animal, let’s at least make it a story worth telling! +CHARM

b. A swan. They’re classy. Plus it reminds me of that myth of Leda and the Swan, so at least by bestiality standards it has a certain chic appeal. +CREATIVITY

c. A human being, because I’m the kind of douchebag who loves to find loopholes in stupid questions like this one. +SMARTS

d. A purebred horse. At least I can keep his semen and sell it. It’s worth a lot! Who said there was no silver lining to bestiality? +WEALTH

e. A dolphin. They’re the only other animal that fucks just for pleasure, so at least we can both do our best to have a good time, right? +FUN

f. No on can make me fuck an animal. If I fucked an animal, it’d be of my own free will. As a matter of fact, I already have fucked an animal, so the joke’s on you, pal. +BOLD

The coolest reality show would be...

a. Twelve experts on the various arts of seduction live in a house where they must face a common challenge: seducing a potato into marriage... somehow. +CHARM

b. Eight rich people fight in weekly challenges to see who’s the best at giving money to you. +WEALTH

c. People in various positions of power must face all sorts of questions relevant to their field, and if they fail, they lose their jobs... and society wins. +SMARTS

You get the chance to produce a movie. It’s based on...

a. The most influential Russian novelists of the XIX century... have gone nuts! They don’t remember anything about last night and now they can’t find the manuscript of The Brothers Karamazov; and Dostoyevsky has to deliver it TODAY! +FUN

b. Two cool guys walking away from rad explosions. And they don’t look at the explosions. THEY DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE EXPLOSIONS! They reflect on life and love... AND IT IS SUPER DOPE AND KICK-ASS BECAUSE THEY DO SO WALKING AWAY FROM NEVER-ENDING EXPLOSIONS! +BOLD

c. Something about superheroes, but with a love triangle between a beauty yet somehow relatable girl (maybe she’s always stating she’s a mess?) and two of the super hot superheroes, which are also like vampires or pirates or both. Instant hit! +WEALTH

Democracy is just broken. What would be the best way of choosing the leaders of modern society?

a. Whoever can play the most heartbreaking violin solo wins. +CREATIVITY

b. You put all the candidates in an empty room... with a wild grizzly bear. Whoever kills the bear should be our president. If everyone dies, then it’s obvious: the bear should be our president. +BOLD

c. We create a reality show called “America’s Next Top President” where the candidates compete in all kinds of physical and mental challenges. Voter turnout would increase and we would turn a profit on it! +FUN

If you could put a curse on your worst enemy, what would it do?

a. I’d curse them to fall in love with a wonderful person and be happily married before they realize that all this time... their partner was a wild panther in disguise! Then the panther viciously devours my enemy. Classic! +BOLD

b. The curse of always meeting obnoxious people at parties who are super into new fad diets that feel the need to explain them in detail. +CHARM

c. You can’t rely on the effectiveness of a curse. I prefer to take care of my enemies the old-fashioned way: by exposing them to unsafe doses of radiation over the course of several years. +SMARTS

What would be the coolest prize you could find in your box of cereal?

a. A tiny piece of sharp metal, so every scoop will be full of thrill and danger! +BOLD

b. The phone number of the sexy tiger on the front of the box. He’s so passionate about breakfast and health that he’s surely also a grrreat lover. +CHARM

c. A sample of a more nutritious breakfast option, so people are encouraged to stop eating that colorful crap. +SMARTS

What inanimate object do you think would make the best girlfriend or boyfriend, provided you went criminally insane?

a. A human-size pillow depicting a character created by myself. As a matter of fact, I have all the needed paperwork and I’m only waiting for the conservative narrow-minded laws of our country to finally step forward into waifu and husbando territory, as was clearly intended by God. +CREATIVITY

b. A dildo, duh. +FUN

c. An ATM. Sugar baby life, here I come! +WEALTH

Which god do you pray to each night before sleeping?

a. Praying is kind of lame. I have a group text set up with some deities: Dionysus, Bastet, Loki... coolest cats in town. +CHARM

b. Praying is for fools. I took some compromising pics of a god molesting a tree, and now I blackmail him for whatever I want. A lot more effective. +SMARTS

c. Oh, I pray to all kinds of gods. I have this business where people pay me to deliver their prayers every night. I’ve even started to look for a Chinese factory to outsource the prayers. +WEALTH

prom date questions

What is the sexiest type of knowledge a lover can have?

a. How to set stuff on fire. ❤️DAMIEN

b. All the principles to build a financial empire. ❤️VERA

c. Lyrics to all Disney songs. ❤️MIRANDA

d. Obscure 80s movie trivia. ❤️LIAM

e. Sports things. ❤️SCOTT

f. How to make a killer cocktail out of anything. ❤️POLLY

Your partner just gave you a cool gift for your anniversary but you totally forgot! Quick, come up with an idea for a great gift!

a. The head of their fiercest enemy. ❤️VERA

b. A silly toy that makes silly noises. ❤️SCOTT

c. The abstract concept of gratefulness. ❤️LIAM

d. A pony. Always a pony. ❤️MIRANDA

e. Anything on fire. Or a weapon. No, no: a weapon on fire. ❤️DAMIEN

f. Anything capable of leading them to an overdose of some sorts. ❤️POLLY

What would be a deal-breaker for a potential lover?

a. The person lacks taste. ❤️LIAM

b. The person is mediocre. ❤️VERA

c. The person is a coward. ❤️DAMIEN

d. The person is boring. ❤️POLLY

e. The person hates the outdoors. ❤️SCOTT

f. The person lacks manners. ❤️MIRANDA

What would be a killer accessory?

a. Sunglasses... at night. ❤️POLLY

b. A fabulous purse made from the skin of your worst enemy. ❤️VERA

c. Coolness itself. ❤️LIAM

d. Fancy brass knuckles. ❤️DAMIEN

e. A necklace with your own name... in case you forget! ❤️SCOTT

f. Shiny armor. ❤️MIRANDA

The world will end tomorrow... What will you do today?

a. Nobody ends the world but me! I’ll end the world today. ❤️DAMIEN

b. It’s okay! We invented the apocalypse to take care of the overpopulation of commoners. ❤️MIRANDA

c. I’ll finish my novel... whoever comes after the end should know my legacy! ❤️LIAM

d. 100 push-ups... no, no 200 push-ups! ❤️SCOTT

e. They always tell you the world is ending... I’ll profit on other people’s hysteria. ❤️VERA

f. I always party as if there were no tomorrow... so who cares? ❤️POLLY

Which criteria would you use to name your children?

a. Meh... no name? It’s just too much work! ❤️POLLY

b. I will research for a name that is pun-proof and joke-proof. No one will pick on them. ❤️VERA

c. A non-heteronormative name to give them freedom to define themselves on their own terms. ❤️LIAM

d. Just a swear word. ❤️DAMIEN

e. My name + “II” (the Second). ❤️MIRANDA

f. Something simple and friendly, like Bobby or Mary. ❤️SCOTT

If you were an ice cream... which flavour would you be?

a. Double creme de la Gruyere and meringues. ❤️LIAM

b. Spicy chocolate. No... chocolate on FIRE! ❤️DAMIEN

c. Success. ❤️VERA

d. Tequila and coke. ;) ❤️POLLY

e. Rainbows and gummy bears. ❤️MIRANDA

f. Meat! ❤️SCOTT

What would be your dream first date?

a. An art exhibition experimental enough to give you a seizure. ❤️LIAM

b. A sweaty and manly wrestling match. ❤️SCOTT

c. A professional meeting where you charm your date with some astonishing business advice! ❤️VERA

d. A wild party in international waters. ❤️POLLY

e. A lovely walk in the forest... after rescuing your date from a dragon! ❤️MIRANDA

f. Crimes. ❤️DAMIEN

You find a genie in a bottle. You can ask for whatever you want. What do you ask for?

a. A rainbow that you can eat! ❤️MIRANDA

b. I don’t ask for anything. I drink the genie from the bottle. I can grant my own wishes! ❤️DAMIEN

c. Before asking for anything, you try to negotiate up to the three standard wishes. ❤️VERA

d. Infinite confetti! ❤️POLLY

e. ...His friendship! ❤️SCOTT

f. Him to not be so cliched. Genies and wishes... so mainstream! ❤️LIAM

What would be the most appealing in a love partner?

a. A big... horn. ❤️DAMIEN

b. Sharp wits. ❤️LIAM

c. Kawaii eyes. ❤️MIRANDA

d. A very tsundere personality. ❤️VERA

e. Soft fur. ❤️SCOTT

f. A taste for party. ❤️POLLY

#monster prom #damien lavey #polly geist #vera oberlin #miranda vanderbilt #i'm also trying to do a 'walkthrough' for the events #i've only done like vera's and it's.... A Lot lads #long post for ts

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pigstepmp3-moved · 5 years

Text

an excerpt of a thing that i may or may not continue some day, feat an All Knowing oc and oblivious dumbass buck (which, lets be honest, is a daily mood for him)

Buck’s best friend from childhood, Eleanora, is coming to California to visit, and Buck is both excited and terrified. Excited because they’ve always been thick as thieves, practically siblings with how close they are to each other, and he’s missed her a ton, despite how often they still talk on the phone. Terrified because she’s probably got a plethora of stories about him from their youth that are sure to be so embarrassing that Buck will wish that the Earth would open up and swallow him whole. And she’s sure to unleash those stories if he introduces her to his friends. So against his better judgement, she decides to introduce her to Eddie on one of her first days in LA.

Buck decides to invite the both of them to his new apartment, figuring that that’s a nice, safe environment for Eddie and Eleanora to meet. And of course, Eleanora’s running late. But Buck isn’t surprised at that, she’s always been notorious for constantly being late to things, so he asked her to come over an hour earlier than he asked Eddie to come over. And somehow, she’s still late. Finally, twenty minutes after Eddie’s arrived, there’s a frantic knock on Buck’s front door. He excuses himself from the pleasant conversation he had been having with Eddie to go and open the door.

“Okay, before you say anything, I know that I’m phenomenally late,” Eleanora says the moment the door opens. She reaches forward to give Buck a quick hug before brushing past him and into the apartment. “I’m trying to get used to LA traffic, but it’s, like, a million times slower that rural Pennsylvania, so it’s a real struggle.”

“I told you not to get a rental car,” Buck says with a roll of his eyes as he leads Eleanora to the kitchen where Eddie’s waiting. “But noooo, you’re much too good for Uber.”

“Literally shut up, I do not need your sass right now,” Eleanora says with a playful glare thrown Buck’s way before setting her purse on the kitchen counter. She turns to face Eddie now with a broad grin, holding her hand out for him to shake. “Hi! I’m Eleanora Lawrence.”

“Eddie Diaz,” Eddie says with an equally as broad grin, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

She realizes that she recognizes that name when she lets go of his hand. She recalls many a conversation spent listening to Buck sob about how in love he is with his straight best friend, Eddie Diaz. Finally getting to see this tall glass of water in person? Well, Buck’s feelings are totally understandable. If she’s being honest, though, she never really bought the “straight” thing. She might have stalked Eddie’s Instagram once or twice, and the pictures he’s posted? She’d never in a million years believe that he’s anything but bisexual. He just has that aura, she guesses. “Ah, Evan’s mentioned you a couple times,” she says, slyly winking at Buck. Though she could very easily tell Eddie how many times “a couple” really is, she knows how much it would hurt Buck. “You’re the, umm, the single father right?”

Eddie laughs breathlessly at that, quickly ducks his head for a moment. “I’m, uh, married, actually,” he explains, perhaps a bit awkwardly.

Eleanora’s a little taken aback at that. She glances down toward Eddie’s left hand, and unless invisible wedding rings have become a thing, then there is no way that said marriage is going to be lasting much longer. “Right,” she says after a moment, narrowing her eyes a little. “Well, I’m sure your husband is a very lucky man.” She refuses to believe that he could possibly have a wife.

“Uh, I actually have a, um, a wife,” Eddie says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Screw “a little” taken aback, Eleanora is fully and entirely taken aback at that. Her eyes trail down Eddie now, fully taking in his appearance. Denim jacket over a flannel shirt? Yeah, no way in hell that he’s even slightly straight. Her eyes trail down even more, and they narrow a little when she sees that his jeans are cuffed. He might as well have walked right up to her and yelled that he’s bisexual before even saying his name. “Uh-huh. Right. Well. I’m sure your wife is a very lucky woman,” she finally says before turning to look at Buck. “Hey, Ev, I just realized that I’ve gotta talk to you about something, could you come with me real quick?” She doesn’t bother to wait for a response, just grabs Buck’s arm and pulls him out of the kitchen and into a hallway that’s just out of earshot from Eddie. “’Straight best friend’ my ass,” she says immediately.

“Nora, what the hell are you talking about?” Buck asks. “He’s straight, dude. Like, super incredibly straight.”

“I’m sorry, have you ever looked in his direction? Denim jacket? Flannel? Fucking cuffed jeans? That man is the most rockin’ bisexual I’ve ever seen, and I am including you and me on that list of ‘rockin’ bisexuals’. And my God does he have a preference for men,” Eleanora replies fiercely.

“You’re insane,” Buck says simply, sparing a quick glance toward where Eddie’s standing around awkwardly in the kitchen. “There’s no way he’s bi. And even if he was, he wouldn’t have a preference for guys, shut up.”

“Oh my god, you are the stupidest, most oblivious man I know! I’ve known him for like five minutes now, and the entire time I’ve known him, he’s looked at you like he wishes I wasn’t here so he could fuck you!” Eleanora grips Buck’s shoulders tightly and shakes him a little as she speaks. Buck blushes a little at her words. “If that man turns out to be 100%, completely and entirely straight, I will eat my own wedding ring.”

“You’ll eat your wedding ring,” Buck says flatly. “Good luck explaining that one to your husband.”

“He’ll agree with me, if anything, because anyone with eyes can see that that is a rockin’ bi man!” Eleanora says as she lets go of Buck’s shoulders. “But there’s not gonna be anything for me to explain because I’m not gonna eat my ring! Because he’s not straight!”

Buck stares at her blankly for a moment before shaking his head to himself. “Yeah, uh-huh, okay. Whatever you say, Nora.”

“Dude, I am dead fucking serious. If I don’t see that guy kiss you at least once by the time I go back home, I will be severely disappointed.”

Buck gives her an incredibly unimpressed look. “Well, that’s not gonna happen. Sorry, but I live to disappoint,” he responds before turning and heading back to kitchen. Eleanora frowns before scurrying after him.

#i've got a vague sort of idea for how i'd end this #but i have no idea how i'd actually get to said ending #but whatever! :shrug:#kendall writes

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arc-17 · 7 years

Text

Yet another tag game! :)

I Love these!

Thanks @pb-boeboe and @choicesjam for tagging me!

Star Sign:

Cancer 🦀

Height:

6′0″

Sexuality:

Mostly straight, cis, whatever its called.

Phone Wallpaper:

Basic background, something can still read icon text on.

Ever had a teacher crush:

Nope.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years:

Probably right where I am now. Life hasn’t really changed in 10 years for me already. Maybe I’ll have a house though.

If you could be anywhere else right now where would it be:

Hmm… if real life…Flying. Anywhere doesn’t matter. Or… in rain forest in Puerto Rico or riding a horse up a mountain in Montana. Or maybe on a beach on an Island in the South Pacific. Or looking out over the highlands from castle in Scotland. Or maybe SCUBA diving in the Red Sea…

Lots of travel dreams lol

If NOT in real life…

The city of Keldabe on the planet Mandalore, Lothlorien in Middle-Earth, La Huerta in Endless Summer… to name a few.

Coolest Halloween Costume:

Omg… um… since like, Halloween is second only to Christmas in my favorite holidays its hard to pick just one! Examples though would be The Lone Ranger, Zorro, and Obi-Wan Kenobi when I was a kid. More recently would be my fantasy elf OC, a Roman Tribune, Sky Captain, a classic Pirate, Cassian Andor from STAR WARS… ok yeah this is the short list.

Favourite 90s Show:

Animated: Pretty much all Disney’s such as Duck Tales, Darkwing Duck, TaleSpin, Chip n’ Dale’s Rescue Rangers, the Aladdin TV series etc.

Live action: StarGate SG1 hands down in first place. Followed by The Pretender, Diagnosis Murder, Walker Texas Ranger, Quantum Leap and Murder She Wrote.

Last Kiss:

Funny story on that…

Haven’t ever kissed.

Ever Been to Las Vegas:

Nope

Favourite Pair of Shoes:

A perfect tie between two.

First is a totally awesome pair of Chelsea Boots by Magnanni. Sharp looking, soft yet durable leather and comfortable since day one. No break in period. Which considering I stand a lot when I am working, and wear a suit, there’s rarely a day that I don’t wear them, yet they don’t show the wear.

Second is my Converse Combat Boots.

Again, comfortable from day one with no break in, can forget I have them on and they have killer traction and grip on ANY surface. Even Ice or slick hard floors. They look like they have been through shoe hell, (suffs, mud, dents, scrapes, etc) but they will keep you warm or cool and safe no matter what.

Favourite Fruit:

Watermelon and Apples!

Favourite Book:

Waaaay too many to list. But a sampling being Lord of the Rings Trilogy, A Higher Call, Last of the Mohicans, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s court, Around the World in 80 Days, Horse Soldiers aka Twelve Strong, and the list goes on…

Stupidest thing you’ve ever done:

Oh gosh… there’s… been a lot. LOL

Umm… I’d say locking myself out of the house, then having to outthink myself to break into the house, after I just spent a long time securing the house and making it break in proof… without causing damage. Which I did… it was… amusing to say the least xD

Tagging people I wanna get to know better :)

@freshman-imagine-that @endlessflame @endless-vall @jakestan @kathleen-kitty @choicesaholic @avengingalec @estalasquinn @valentinagreaves @kennadavenportgayle @kenjkats @raventear @the-light-of-stars @kamilah-sayeed-xoxo @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @lacksubstance

And anyone who reads this,

Consider yourself tagged!

#tag games

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a-mad-scientist-approaches · 7 years

Text

Multiverse is a Curse Word (7)

*Dances weirdly* Got another chapter done! Hahaha I’m insecure about this one!

Adeline Marks is @hntrgurl13‘s incredible OC, and the Dimension Jumper and Drifting Dimensions AUs (which this fic may or may not be a part of) are also hers.

The Adrift AU, the closest thing I have to a soulmate, was made by @the-subpar-ghost. Go find more of this stuff.

The wonderful Addiford ship is due to @scipunk63. More cute moments await!

Here you go, @thejesterlyfictionista and @deadpool-demon-diva!

AO3 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Chapter 7: Suspiciously Auspicious

Another item flew over Addi’s shoulder, making a crunch as it landed in the leaves near the riverbank.

“Should we be worried?” Mabel asked Ford as they watched her rummage around in her bag. When the environmentalists had left, the three of them had returned to their default campsite, and Addi had unveiled the sheer amount of technology she possessed. Most of it was impatiently strewn around them.

“No, most of this is useless. I’ve been meaning to clean out.” Addi said in a muffled voice. “If you just put it in this, we can sell it to someone the next time we come to a market.” She tossed back a small sack.

Ford picked up a transmitter. “This could be useful,”

“It only contacts the resistance,”

“Into the bag it goes!” Mabel decided, snatching it from him and throwing it in with enough force that it shattered. No one objected.

Most of the other objects were to do with the resistance as well, and Ford did not blame Addi for the vehemence of her search. Years worth of things piled up in the sell-bag.

“What about these?” he asked curiously.

Addi spared a quick glance at the white, pebble-like things in his hand. “Locators. Hopefully I won’t be giving any more of them out. They go with – this!” She pulled one last piece out of her bag.

It was a stick. A thick, rectangular, grey, metal stick, which split into three thinner metal sticks and formed a tripod when set up properly. Addi took out her own usual transmitter and opened it up to replace the cracked endo-ergon crystal inside. Then she plugged it into the top of the tripod, and a blue light began to pulse slowly from it. All in all, Ford had seen more impressive things.

His opinion changed when she told him what it was.

“It’s a portal beacon,”

Ford was sure he had not heard correctly, and his disbelief must have shown on his face. “A what?”

Addi laughed. “It’s not really as convenient as it sounds, unfortunately. It homes in on those locators, if they’re turned on. I’ve given a couple out to some former resisters over the years, so I’ve always got a place to go if I need to lie low. It needs about ten hours to charge up, but hopefully a portal will open up tomorrow and take us somewhere safe.” Pleased, she looked over at them.

Mabel and Ford were sitting in stunned silence.

“How the heck do you have so much cool tech?” burst out Mabel. She turned to Ford. “And how come we don’t?”

“I actually picked a lot of stuff up in a dimension that was in a permanent state of exponential technological advancement.” Addi answered. “People gave me spare parts out of charity because they considered me too helpless and primitive to fend for myself. That experience was humbling, but also,” she made a face, “very, very annoying. Stupidest place ever.”

“So you can actually navigate the multiverse?” clarified Ford.

“Well … kind of. It’s not perfect by any means. I put most of it together myself,” Addi admitted.

“That is absolutely amazing,” he said, while staring at her, faintly mesmerised. She was absolutely amazing.

Addi went pink, but smiled happily.

“Awww, you guys are so cute!” Mabel said, pressing her palms to her cheeks and grinning as wide as she could.

“Are you going to do something every time Addi and I … are affectionate towards each other?” Ford asked his niece wearily.

“I’m sorry Grunkle Ford, but yes,” Mabel said joyfully.

⃝

The sunset was turning the pink sky a blood red colour, darkening to maroon. At Mabel’s insistence, Ford left her cooking the food over their fire, and went to sit beside Addi, who was checking over beacon.

“Hi.” she greeted. “I heard you were ordered to come over here and ‘cuddle’, was it?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Can’t disobey orders, Stanford,”

“Um, okay then,” He awkwardly placed an arm around her shoulders. How have I forgotten how to hug? Thankfully, Addi didn’t seem to mind the hesitation, and she leaned them both backwards until they were lying and staring up at the emerging stars, then shuffled closer so her head was lying on his collarbone. Okay, okay, this is nice, just be normal.

“I would say we should search for constellations, but this isn’t Earth, and I don’t know any,”

“Well, there’s a sort of squashed pentagon over there,” Ford volunteered, pointing with his free arm.

“That can be the Broken Home. Y’know, it actually looks kind of similar to this one cluster right above your house,”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. If you go up on the roof near the attic window, and you look straight up, there’s a whoooole bunch of messy shapes between the trees,”

“I can see you are an expert stargazer,”

She laughed at that, and he felt a bit more comfortable. “It was nice spending time up there,” she said, and there was a wistful tinge to her words, “but the company’s better here,” she finished warmly, and kissed him again. Fortunately, his mind did not temporarily short-circuit this time. In fact, he was finding he seriously enjoyed it when she did that, and he was already certain that he did not want these occurrences to stop.

“Food’s up!” called Mabel. “If you’re done with each other, that is. HEY-OH!”

She’ll stop doing that, Ford thought as they broke apart and went back to the fire. She’s just excited because it’s new. She’ll stop tomorrow. Probably.

He was wrong, as it turned out. She stopped within the hour.

The sky had fully darkened to a deep maroon, and Mabel had started to go very quiet as he and Addi took out the blankets. The silence now becoming deafening to him, he crouched in front of where she was sitting and asked what the matter was.

“I - I don’t want to go to sleep.” she said hesitantly. “Can I keep watch? It’s just … I had nightmares last time.” The admission finished in a mumble.

Ford felt a rush of understanding. He should have expected that the many events of the day would not be enough to permanently distract his niece from the trauma of yesterday. Now that things were beginning to die down, it should have been a given that she was thinking about it all over again.

“I don’t think a watch is necessary tonight. The most we’ll have to worry about is some disgruntled scientists.” Addi said kindly. “We’re safe here.”

Mabel did not look convinced. How many times have I told her that, and we turned out not to be? Ford wondered sadly. The last was at the resistance base.

“Would another family hug pile help?” he tried. Mabel was a very tactile person, so he was certain it would, but she all she responded with was a discouraging shift in position.

“I know that it’s hard,” he said softly, “but you will get through this. Believe me when I say that there is nothing capable of taking down your spirit, Mabel.”

She seemed to untense slightly, and gave a ghost of a smile. “But what if I have another nightmare?”

“Then we’ll be here for you.” Addi answered simply. “Right here.”

Mabel moved into the woman’s waiting embrace, and Ford joined soon after, draping a blanket over all three of them.

“The stars are nice,” Mabel said quietly, and Ford was glad to hear her voice slurring.

“Mhm. I named those squished ones over there the Broken Home,” Addi smiled.

When there was no answer, Ford thought Mabel was already dreaming, but the sleepy reply did gradually make its appearance.

“Looks like it’s bein’ fixed to me,”

⃝

Addi was awoken – for good this time – the next morning by faint sounds coming from the portal beacon. Mabel had only woken up twice during the night, and both she and Ford had been readily available.

Slowly, Addi disentangled herself from her friends. They both groaned and burrowed deeper into the blankets at the removal of warmth. Mabel turned away from the suddenly chilly morning to face her uncle, who brought her closer to himself more out of a desire to combat the cold than anything else. It was cute, regardless. Looking down at the little family, she had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky so quickly.

Thooomp, thooomp, went the portal beacon. She checked it, and was happy to see that it was fully charged. A portal would be on its way to opening, then.

Time to see an old friend. Hopefully one who also wanted to see her.

⃝

… Bill Cipher was close behind her, but she wasn’t scared for herself; she just needed a little more time, and then Ford would be home, gone through the portal …

… she was playing with Shifty, and he was morphing into a new shape – a little boy with blonde hair and six fingers …

… another boy, with Mabel’s face, was excitedly brandishing a DD&D character sheet at her, while behind him a man with Ford’s face rolled his eyes …

“Marks? Marks!”

Addi’s feet thudded into the black ground, which looked something like solidified lava. The part she was standing on was rock, but all around her were brightly-coloured knee-high plants, sprouting a number of fruit and flowers each.

“You made it! Addi, you actually made it! I can’t believe it!” A strong hug tackled her, and she managed not to flip whoever it was to ground. This is a nice hug. Not an attack-you hug.

When the person pulled back, she found herself staring into a brown-skinned, long-haired, familiar human face.

“It’s been, what, three years?” asked Julian.

Adeline could do nothing but gape at him. She grabbed his arms, half-returning the hug to make sure he was real. A flood of outrage and delight filled her up.

“I thought you were dead!” she half-yelled, half-laughed eventually.

“What? Why?”

“Because those killer mushrooms were everywhere!”

“But I sent you an invitation, didn’t I?”

“No! What invitation?”

“To this!” Julian gestured backwards. A crowd of people, most of them Julian’s large extended family, were staring at them in mingled horror and fascination. They were gathered around a priest dressed in white, who was holding a squirming baby over a basin of water. “We just baptised my son!”

“You had a baby?” But Julian’s eyes had moved over to Addi’s uncertain companions.

“You have a kid too?”

Not bothering, or wanting, to correct him, Addi pushed away as Julian simultaneously did the same to her, and they both went to greet each other’s respective families. Starting, of course, with the kids.

⃝

Ford was not sure how to react when Addi’s friend practically dived at Mabel, picked her up, and swung her around. Did he draw his gun and start shooting? Did he ignore the display and follow Addi? Did he join in and dance madly with the man? He opted to just stand there and attempt to figure out what the hell was happening.

Laughing uproariously, and confusedly in Mabel’s case, the man finally set her down. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Mabel. Mabel Pines,” she matched him smile for smile.

“How old are you?”

“Twelve,”

“And how long have you been Addi’s kid?”

“Um … a few days?” Mabel looked happy at being referred to in that manner, although bewilderment was still present in her expression.

Noticing this, and also Ford’s stiff form, the man quickly introduced himself. “Forgive me, I get overexcited sometimes. I’m Julian, a friend of Adeline’s. I’m thirty, my son was born six months ago, and I’m recently married,” Mabel giggled at his euphoria.

Addi’s voice floated over the amiable chatter of the crowd. “You married Clive?” Ford saw that she had appropriated the baby from the priest.

“Finally, right?” a man who was presumably Clive answered.

Julian was shaking Ford’s hand, and waiting for an introduction.

“Stanford Pines,” he said quickly.

Julian nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve heard Addi talk about you. In mixed tones,” he added, but more out of honesty than hostility. “Come on, let’s go celebrate!”

⃝

Julian’s house was made of rich brown wood, in a toroidal shape around a stone central pavilion. It was so large that everyone who was at the baptism could have a guest room. Furthermore, the whole area stood at the base of a volcano. Clive, who seemed to have a slightly more level head on his shoulders despite his insistence on only wearing the brightest clothes possible, assured Ford that it was inactive.

Julian introduced him and Mabel to his entire family. Either days on this planet were shorter than usual, or this dimension was out of sync time-wise with the previous one, but by the time they were done the sun was setting in a normal blue sky.

Darkness fell quickly, and all the guests were enjoying themselves, languishing on couches and deckchairs in the pavilion. Mabel found several other children approximately her age to play with, and they were running around engrossed in a game.

Julian sat Ford down at his bar, where Clive was making Addi a drink.

“Want one Stanford?” he asked.

“I don’t usually-”

“Ford, it’s okay.” Addi reassured him, looking into his eyes earnestly. “I promise you, you don’t have to worry here. We can afford to unwind for one night, and besides, Clive’s drinks are to die for.”

“… alright, I’ll try one,” Ford agreed reluctantly. One would be fine, maybe two, if it was good. He did not like to let down his guard too much, ever, but if Addi knew these people, and they were no longer resistance, then it would most likely be fine. Besides, he could already tell that this place was safe. In addition to Julian’s trustworthiness, the tour he had taken Ford on had revealed a substantial security system and at least one armoury.

“Where’s my baby?” Clive asked Julian as he whipped together ingredients so fast they blurred.

“With your sister. They’re lighting the lamps,” Julian nodded to where a woman was patrolling the perimeter of the pavilion, bouncing the child gently as she turned on gas lights. Ford’s eyes drifted across the entire scene. It was filled with (admittedly tipsy) laughter and conversation, but most prominently it was completely relaxed. Every person here trusted everyone else. The only negativity had come in with him.

Which is why he downed the drink in one as soon as Clive gave it to him. On a whim, he chose to completely trust these people. He regretted it. The drink, that is.

Addi almost spat out her own drink laughing at him. He should have noticed she was sipping it. Julian and Clive made no attempts to hide their own amusement as Ford choked and coughed, trying to reopen his windpipe and stop the godawful burning all the way down his oesophagus. Shit. Clive did not mess around with his alcohol.

“Oh dear, looks like the little man’s crying.” said Julian. Ford glared. “No not you.” he added impatiently, and hurried over to his sister-in-law and upset son.

“Must be getting tired,” Clive informed the other two, “we’ll go and put him to bed. Be right back,”

He opened one of the many doors that ringed the pavilion and led his husband and child into the hallway beyond. Before the door shut again, Ford and Addi heard Julian say, “We should have another one,”

“God no,” was the reply, “I love you guys, but one was painful enough.”

Addi made a very good, and sincere, replica of Mabel’s reaction to public displays of affection. Ford smiled, but then felt another unwanted pang of concern. He stood up and moved to another space on the outskirts so he could see Mabel more clearly. The group of kids was now sitting on the ground, playing Duck, Duck, Goose.

“She’s fine Ford,” Addi said, now leaning against the wall with a faint smile, “and she’s going to continue to be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” She rested a hand on his arm comfortingly.

Ford nodded, and made an effort to relax again. “Alright. I know this is a good place, and that these are good people, and I doubt anyone is coming after us right this second,” he reassured himself.

“Well, anyone other than the usual mix of demons, police officers, governments, criminals, and resistances,” Addi amended dryly. For some reason, this too helped assuage his fears. He laughed.

It might have been the genuinely pleasant atmosphere of the place, or (very likely) whatever Clive’s drink was doing to him, or the fact that he had not had spent much time with Addi all day, but for whatever reason he was suddenly compelled to do something reckless: he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her intensely. To his relief, she did not object.

The feeling of her fingers running through his hair was electric, and the world felt like it was dissolving around him when she refused to pause like they had before. He traced a hand up her back, gently stroking a scar whenever he came to one, and he guessed she enjoyed that because she kissed him breathless and somehow pressed even closer to him than before. He was light-headed with happiness, and probably alcohol, and … and to his utter embarrassment he had forgotten they were still relatively in public.

He felt Addi smiling uncontrollably as she pulled him through the nearest doorway.

⃝

Early morning grey light filtered around the edges of the door to outside, waking Ford up. He found he had a slight headache as he eased himself out from under the covers, but hopefully that would soon fade.

Let’s see …

He had gone to check on Mabel at some point, and she had not even noticed that they had disappeared. Apparently she had been too busy playing. He was not sure why he had not put her to bed then. Hopefully she had gone to sleep at a reasonable hour.

“I’m going to check on Mabel,” he said quietly, giving Addi a kiss on the cheek before searching for his boots. A huff of laughter escaped her.

“Again? She’s going to start wondering what all the fuss is about,”

“What do you mean?” Ford asked, struggling with a sock.

“Well, I’ve been to see her three times, and I heard you get up at least double that last night,”

Weren’t we supposed to be having a night off from worry? “I don’t remember any of that!” Ford said indignantly.

Addi snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “lightweight” as he took his coat and left the room.

Julian was eating cereal at the bar, and waved at him as he approached. He was grinning mischievously.

“Have fun last night?” Clearly enjoying Ford’s discomfort, he continued without waiting for an answer. “You must have. Unbelievable as it seems, I guess there are more interesting things to do than talk to me. We came back out and you guys were gone! I wonder what you were doing,” he sniggered.

Stubbornly not reacting, Ford asked where his niece was.

“You put her to bed a few hours ago. That room over there,”

A few more memories trickled back as he walked across the pavilion. Now that he thought about it, Mabel’s expression had appeared carefully neutral when saying that she had not been aware of his and Addi’s absence.

Another memory nudged at him, quietly, as if not wanting to be noticed. He had gone back to their room and curled up with Addi again. There had been something he wanted to say to her, just three small words that felt enormous, but she had kissed them from his lips before he could complete them. Probably for the best. He had obviously still been feeling the aftereffects of Clive’s culinary creativity. Then again, Mabel had started saying she loved him barely a day after knowing him. Maybe it was different for adults.

He knocked softly on Mabel’s door and entered. She was sleeping peacefully in her bed at the opposite end of the room, but woke up immediately when the light from the doorway fell on her.

“Just me,” Ford reassured her quickly.

“Oh, right. This is definitely a surprise.” Her light tone did nothing to erase the fact that her hand had automatically and unmistakeably reached for a weapon. “I’m okay, nothing bad’s happened, and playing games was fun.” She had clearly gotten into the rhythm of the questions he asked.

“Good, good.” He knelt beside the bed, not quite sure what else he was here for. “Did you sleep okay?”

The instant he asked, his mouth went dry. No, of course she didn’t, she hasn’t been able to since the resistance. What had he been thinking? He should have been here for her, she was supposed to be his utmost priority at all times, and he had just … forgotten about her. The slight tension in her nod made him disgusted with himself.

He did not think his thoughts had shown on his face, but Mabel sometimes appeared to be psychic in the way she could read people so thoroughly.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she conciliated hurriedly. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Buuuuut,” she sighed, “today’s my birthday.”

“It is?”

“I think so.” There was a wan smile on her face now. “I wonder what Dipper’s doing.”

“Probably sleeping, if it’s as early over there as it is here,” The joke had come out of nowhere, and one thing was for certain: his niece was not going to be sad on her birthday.

“Thirteen years old! That’s a milestone to remember,” Mabel’s smile became more alive with every word. “I guess I should up your education standards, now that you should be in eighth grade,” That elicited a groan and an eyeroll. “You’re fitting into your role as a teenager well.”

Finally, a laugh. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and said, “I suppose you’ll be wanting your present then,”

“You got me a present? But you didn’t even know when my birthday was!”

“Well it had to happen sooner or later, didn’t it? Wait here,”

He darted over to Addi’s room, and more specifically her bag of full of technology. There must be something in there she would like. As he rummaged around under the confused gaze of its owner, he found the perfect thing.

How often had Mabel griped about losing her grappling hook?

⃝

Well. Her uncle seemed even more excited about today than her, which wasn’t that hard, to be honest. Dipper would be waking up soon, probably to presents from Stan, Wendy, and Soos. Or at least, that’s what she hoped. She had no idea what the aftermath of the portal incident had been like on their end. Maybe they were all too busy working to fix it to celebrate, or maybe Dipper wasn’t even in Gravity Falls anymore. What had he and Stan told their parents? Had they told them anything? Dipper and herself were supposed to be going home soon. How were they handling that?

Was she ever going to get home? Was her twelfth the last birthday she got to spend with her brother?

Ford’s return banished her thoughts. “Here! It’s also from Addi.” He dropped a sleek black gun into her lap. She could feel the reluctance rising in her stomach, but she also didn’t want to seem ungrateful. The last thing she wanted was another way to hurt people.

“You cock it like this.” Ford demonstrated pulling back the barrel casing until it clicked. When he released it, it snapped forwards and four quarters of the case separated and came back together in a blur almost too quick to process. They formed a disc in front of the barrel. “Then you just pull the trigger,”

Realisation dawned on her. “Wait … is this …” Ford grinned and nodded, “an old-fashioned listening device?!”

The nods changed to shakes. “What? No, it’s a futuristic grappling hook,”

“No way! That’s even better!”

“Much better!”

“We need to test it!”

“Indeed we do!”

Mabel was out of her bed and into her clothes in seconds. As she thrust her free hand into her uncle’s and charged for the door, something fell out of the man’s pocket. They both looked down at the small white pebble lying with far more presence than expected on the floor.

“A locator,” Ford said in surprise.

“You must’ve accidentally kept one of Addi’s instead of putting it in the sell-bag,” Mabel suggested.

“Yes …” Ford frowned at it uneasily. “I must have …”

Mabel tugged on his hand. Seeing her eagerness to go, Ford reinstated the smile on his face, and she could see him pushing whatever negative thoughts he was having away for her sake.

“There’s an old rockslide site near the volcano that Clive pointed out to me. I think that will be a good testing ground,” he informed her.

“Sounds good to me! Rockslide, volcano, grappling hook. Very auspicious!”

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