#and ye sent buster call after her anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grantcontrol · 3 years

Text

Heartless, Swarmless ◈ Anton ⁺ Eilidh

Timing: Some time last week Location: White Crest National Park Parties: @braindeacl & @grantcontrol Summary: Anton and Eilidh meet for the first time and end up going on a trip because of some overgrown spiders. Now they know how a hairball feels. Content: Insect, spiders, vomit (not theirs), a lot of cursing

“This better not be one of those prank calls.” With an annoyed groan and a mildly disinterested sigh, Anton begrudgingly parked the white van with his company’s name in bold letters on its side into the otherwise empty designated parking space of the White Crest National Park. He faintly remembered his late grandfather taking him to this place when he was just a tiny tot, though for the life of him, he could no longer recall anything else about that visit. Park’s big, that about sums up all he knows of the place now.

Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions received the call while he was about to Netflix and chill, and while their so-called employer insisted on staying anonymous on the other end of the line, the Girl verified that whoever they were, they had already paid in full. Online. Anton wasn’t too savvy about how that whole thing worked but he trusts the Girl in these matters. Why would she lie? She was getting her pay from the same account, and as much as she doesn’t respect him, at least not on the surface, she can’t deny that they both need the money. Besides, he had already seen the same zombie movie at least three times.

Dragging himself out of the vehicle, he took his time making his way to the back of it where his tools waited for him. Most of it was standard exterminator gear. The rest? Just a few contingencies from his less public career as a pest hunter. Also a jar of peanut butter, but that’s not for him. “Where do I even fucking start?” He wasn’t even inside the park yet when he started complaining. Overgrown spiders. That’s what the caller said they were. The size of a dog? Anton already knew what they actually were. His late grandfather hated the damned things, and there was no doubt he’d hate them, too. If he even gets to find them.

It started with a deer. A family had been perusing about one of the main trails. One of the supposedly safe trails. They had stopped to gaze upon a grazing doe. The child had begged and begged and begged to be placed on their father’s shoulders, and they got their wish just as the deer began to move. The small group watched in awed silence as she inspected the forest floor, searching for her next meal. But before she could find it, the forest floor made a meal of her. It opened up wide, gripped her tight, and pulled her below. Similar instances followed, and the Park was sent into a frenzy. Eilidh, naturally, made herself involved.

Talks of eradication filled the office. But they were too afraid to state anything plainly, too afraid to even admit that they knew what truly lurked within the nearby wood. Eilidh was more direct. “Fuck no.” These creatures, these carachs, only crime was existing in view of humans. It was clear her perspective was not the majority. The carachs posed a threat, and while it had yet to be acted on, they would not wait until it was too late. Eilidh offered a solution. Let her try. The Park was full of restricted areas away from any wandering pedestrian. Away from this potential threat. They could be relocated there. Let her try.

So, she would try. Alone.

Whatever. Less eyes meant she could utilize all of her abilities. After taking a moment to secure some supplies, which became nestled within her backpack, she headed off onto her task. And was immediately struck with the sight of Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions glaring back at her. “Those cunts!” Someone must’ve called while she was distracted, because no one had made any clear moves to dissuade whoever the vehicle belonged to, for it sat undisturbed. “This is a National Park, you don’t call a fucking exterminator!” She yelled at one of her coworkers who made the mistake of walking by. They simply stared with frightened eyes, having no clue what she was talking about. With a frustrated shout, she ran over to the car. When a man, supposedly the owner, came into view, she pointed threateningly. “No! No! Fuck off! We don’t need your kind of help!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! That’s not a very warm welcome.” On any other day, Anton would’ve smirked at the sight of a tiny angry person screaming at her, what the much taller man definitely finds hilarious. For some reason. But today was not one of those days. Anton was tired. Anton was exhausted. Anton just wanted to get this job done. “What seems to be the problem, ma’am? We’re just responding to a call.”

Yes, he was, but no, he already knew what the problem was. The damn carachs, of course. He should’ve expected they’d find their way to a place like this, a place big enough where they could hide somewhere and eat something without the prying eyes of the more mundane humans. Unfortunately, the eight-legged freaks must’ve messed up, one of those mundane creatures saw them do something, and now Anton and his need for money was caught in the middle of the overgrown spiders and whatever the heck this small but pretty attractive woman’s problem was.

“I’m Anton. Anton Grant.” He thought introducing himself would make any difference, offering her one of his patented charming smiles that didn’t actually have that much of a success rate, if only serving to catch others off-guard for a brief moment or two. He doubled down with an extended hand, his dark brown eyes moving from her towards the other park personnel whose own curiosities lured them to this less than pleasant encounter.

“Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions, the best pest control service in town, by the way, is here to help. Someone called about…” He looked around them before leaning in for a whisper. “...a spider problem…” He then moved back to resume the normal volume of his voice. Just in case one of those other personnel would end up a potential customer. “We’re here to take care of it. Professionally.”

Out of a misguided attempt to sound professional, he emphasized the pronoun we throughout his spiel, even though it was clear as day that he was alone.

Eilidh rolled her eyes, not feeling any guilt for her outburst. “Respond to another call.” She wasn’t even given a second of trust before she was undermined by this outsourced ‘help.’ While she truly loved her job and the opportunities it presented to her, sometimes she hated the other people involved. Even though most were relatively sympathetic, there was still a clear bias against the supernatural. Even with visitors outwardly acknowledging the dangers, if someone cried monster too many times, the monster must be dealt with. Often cruelly. Always have to keep up pretenses. Even here.

As ‘Anton’ flashed a smile, she only blinked in response, already trying to forget the name. His hand extended forward, perhaps in an attempt at peace. Eilidh chose the opposite. Her own palms placed firmly on her hips with no want of moving. The effect was lost as another took his offered hand, whether from genuine interest or to alleviate some of the tension set ablaze by her passions. Didn’t matter either way. Angry eyes locked onto them and fearing they too would get caught in the flame, they yielded, taking a step back. The two of them still had an audience, but a ring of emptiness encircled them. A distinction between onlooker and participant.

A spider problem. The way it was spoken, as if a secret, like so many that filled this town, showed her he was probably aware of what truly lurked out there. An actual professional. Or an overconfident fool. So, either someone who could actually do damage, or someone whose death would add more fuel to the fear. Neither alternative would be beneficial. “Look, I ‘ave the ‘spider problem’ handled. So, get the fuck out of-”

She was interrupted by a voice from behind. A superior. They informed her that the Park was exploring all the options given to them. And that if her idea worked, the exterminator wouldn’t need to do his job anyway. Said in a way that was clear they wanted to scream fuck just as Eilidh had and will again, but professionalism prevented such a thing. Pretenses, pretenses. So, her options were clear. Work fast, and maybe, maybe be able to save some of the carachs… Fuck, she didn’t even have a clear plan! But the other conclusion was all the carachs dead, for she wasn’t fast enough.

She looked at Anton. Then bolted into the woods.

There is no other call. Anton wanted to just dryly tell her the truth, that his line of work wasn’t as stable as hers, and because of that, he needs to respond to every call he gets. Otherwise, his late grandfather might start haunting him, too, for letting his business go down the drain. Like his body. The past few weeks were pretty good for Bug Busters Pest Control Solutions, though, which was a little odd to think and smile about right then and there, considering he technically should thank all the bugs and rodents he had to put down for always keeping him warm and fed.

“Okay…” The lady was as rude as she was cute confirmed. Fortunately, she wasn’t the only park personnel around, and he gave the more courteous one a nod and the most charming smile he could ever muster. A stolen glimpse of the still infuriated rude woman, however, slowly chased that smile off of his face. Like she chased the other employee off. Without even moving. Damn, she’s good. He’d almost believed that she did have everything under control, too, because despite her size and her rudeness, her fire reminded her of someone else’s, someone who proved him wrong and handled herself beyond his misinformed expectations. But then someone else stepped forward and corrected her. Oof.

“Well then, I guess if there’s nothing else…” He almost gulped when she looked back at him, his mind already wincing even though it was just one look. The last thing he needed was to get slapped, punched, or even kicked between the legs. He’s suffered all three before, in public, so he was always wary of those possibilities. Still, he had a job to do, especially now that the rest of the park seems to be on his side more than hers. “I’ll just—” He cut himself off when she bolted into the woods. Okay… I guess she really hates my guts. Turning to the rest of the personnel, he just offered them a shrug before calmly walking behind her, as another quickly briefed him on their spider problem.

She ran. And ran. Eilidh wasn’t even sure what she was going to do when she got to her destination. But she knew how to run. So, run she did.

A patch of dirt caught her attention. Small circle of brown contrasting the great expanse of green. It hadn’t been there the day before. Odd. Curiosity compelled her forward, and curiosity paid off. As a foot just barely pressed upon the transitional point between grass and ‘dirt,’ the ground stirred, revealing it wasn’t ground at all. The carach was only the size of a football, but it attacked her with the ferocity of a lion. Fangs pierced her leg, injecting it with a paralyzing agent. But as it worked its way through her body, it couldn’t take hold. She knelt down, the carach still clinging to her leg, as if waiting for its toxins to strip her of all movement. She simply held it in her unaffected hands. It lurched forward, and after a moment of struggle, it escaped from her. It returned to its burrow. She fished out a tarp from her bag. Repeating the previous steps, the carach was once again in her grasp, but before it could escape her, she wrapped the tarp around its body, securing the ends in tight fists.

It fought. Desperately. Holes formed in the tarp as its eight legs went haywire. But not enough to fully rip. After a tense moment of struggle, on both the carach’s and Eilidh’s part, all motion ceased. Acceptance. She picked up the makeshift carach carrier. The contents gave one last struggle before calming again. But this all wasn’t a victory yet. She started running again, but slower, taking care not to jostle her unwilling companion. After a satisfying amount of distance was achieved between her last and current position, she opened the tarp. The carach sprung forward. When it landed, it immediately took off. Time to see if this would work. She watched as the creature scurried for a minute, before settling into the ground just as it had been when she first found it. Success!

She should probably get more tarps. Bigger tarps.

Turning back to where she came, she headed back for more supplies.

Into the Woods was a movie Anton enjoyed, though not everyone shared the notion. As he made his way through the park’s main trails, where the supposed tragedy had happened, Anton couldn’t help but hum along to the titular song that he was playing through his phone. Once he was where he thought he needed to be, the exact spot where the carachs consumed their hapless victims, he warily took out his spear and started prodding the forest floor. Since the eight-legged freaks were fond of burrowing into the ground, with their abdomens mimicking piles of leaves, or even rocks, it was the best option he had to draw them out. If his spear made contact with any part of them, especially their abdomens, then they’d spring up, almost instinctively, but instead of pinning him to the ground, they’d be wrapping their long, spindly legs over his spear, and that would expose them, ripe for the slaying. “I’m such a freaking genius.”

Except, geniuses should have expected that there would be more than enough carachs to deal with, and some of those would be bigger than a mouse. It took Anton a couple of pokes on the ground but he managed to draw one out, a small carach, and immediately pierced it in its stomach. Carachs were venomous creatures, after all, and in this case, it was either them or him. He's been paralyzed by their bite before. Fortunately, he's never experienced the second type of carach venom. Until now.

At first, he thought it was just adrenaline rushing through his veins, the excitement of surviving an otherwise dangerous encounter. But then his heart beat continued to race, and faster it did so. "What the hell?" Taking a step back, he tried to force his eyes closed before opening them in a misguided attempt to "see better". He could feel his pulse now, his very heart breaking, as a vision of his daughter being taken away from him while he was utterly helpless, locked behind bars, trapped in a cage like some animal, haunted him in daylight. Looking around him, he realized his vision was also starting to blur. Panic was setting in. “Fucking spiders.” He uttered, cursing them, before dropping to the ground face-first, clutching his chest, struggling to reach something, someone, but he was alone. “Can’t believe... I’m gonna die... To these smug assholes…”

The two intercepted as she was on her way back to the main building. Barely crawling around on the ground, Eilidh almost missed him. She considered pretending she did. No one else was around. The forest was so, so, so big. And she was so, so, so busy. Who would fault her? But as a large carach made its move towards the easy meal, something inside her pushed her to act.

Skin crashed against exoskeleton, the force from her lunge sending both her and the carach falling into a nearby bush. As she tried to get her composure, she was met with long, sharp legs beating down on her. Enough to break skin, muscle. Enough to pierce through a chest. She punched one of those legs, enough to contort her wrist into a weird angle. She snapped it back into place. In a brief opening, she sent a kick into the hard abdomen hovering above, with enough force to shatter bone if she were human. The carach shivered and leapt back, unnerved by the attack on its vulnerable spot. Eilidh was free.

She rolled from the bush, using the propulsion to end the motion in a kneel. She unsheathed the dagger from her thigh. While she wanted to help the carachs, like hell she was going to let herself be a punching bag. The two watched each other, neither wanting to make the first move. The carach was the first to bow out, choosing to save its energy for easier prey. It disappeared behind the trees. For now.

She inspected the damages. Tears and rips littered her clothes, some even threatening to make her ‘indecent.’ Hidden within those tears were gashes and cuts that had already shown signs of healing. Could’ve been better, but not bad. She turned to the downed man. “See? I have it handled.” Part of her wondered if he could even hear her in his current state.

Even as he writhed on the damp ground of the national park, the feeling of death’s cold, icy grip tight around his panicked heart, Anton could not rein in a playful smirk, his dark brown eyes delighted at the sight of Eilidh, especially the ‘aftermath’ of the battle.

“O-oh, hey!” He twitched under her feet, jaws and hands clenching as he tried to fight the carach’s venom. “You came looking for m-me? I was definitely wrong: ...you do c-care.” He tried to flash her his most charming smile yet but could only muster a weak one, barely a smile, more a wince or a grimace than anything else. “What are you?”

The “fractoxin” that was coursing through Anton’s veins might be dangerous in large doses, but the exterminator, despite how things appeared at the moment, was still a pest hunter, born and trained to deal with such monsters. As such, his body was a little more resistant to these things compared to that of regular humans, still not as resistant as what Eilidh was apparently, and he healed a bit faster, too. It helped that the predator only injected him with a small dose, enough for the sensation that tricked him into believing he was already at Death’s door when once again Death dared not have him anywhere close. Probably preferred a warm meal to a cold one.

It took his body some time to fully heal, though a sense of disorientation, dizziness, and a modicum of weakness still remained over him. Most hunters, at the realization that a small angry woman just saved them from a hungry carach, especially a pest hunter, would have been much warier at their presence, if not a little more apprehensive. Anton was not like most hunters, however, and he was more excited, if not simply interested, at the unexpected turn of events.

Dragging himself to a nearby tree for a much-needed rest, gasping for air every now and then as he clutched his arm throughout, he gestured to where the dog-sized carach disappeared into with a smile. “That thing can’t roam free in the park... You know that, right? Unless you find a place for it, for them, more innocent, stupid people will die.”

Her eyes squinted at the question. What are you? Eilidh could tell he was still fighting off the effects of the toxins. Perhaps he was even in a state of mind to not remember her words. But she refrained from the truth, or any type of answer. She went back to inspecting her clothes, trying to see what could and couldn’t be salvaged.

Hunger crept up inside her. Forming in the gut, then working its way until it resided deep in the mind. Not enough to make her lose control. But enough to be a constant thought in the back of her head. While the attack was brief, and she would walk away with no scars, the exertion still had a price. She stared off into the trees, thinking about what her next meal would be, when Anton’s words brought her back.

She thought about the tarp idea, then gave her body one last look over. The idea might work for all the little ones, but the one she just faced? No. It would tear anything she could find in short notice into confetti. Fuck. She wracked her brain for another idea. But her knowledge on the creature was limited, her experience even less so. So, nothing immediately came to mind. She couldn’t just tuck her tail in and give up, though. Not yet. Think, think! A scene from earlier replayed in her mind. One of her coworkers had described one of the gruesome deaths. A missing heart was one of the details. Hearts. That might work.

“Wait here.” She turned to leave but stopped halfway. While he seemed to be in better shape than before, it was clear Anton was in no shape to defend himself. One more departing thought. “Try not to die.” Into the treeline. She was gone.

Several minutes passed, and when she returned, she seemed in much higher spirits. Her clothes, on the other hand, had a new layer of dirt on them. One hand was red, stained in blood. Cradled in the hand was a heart that had recently lost its beat. “Don’t ask.” She lifted her hand. “They like hearts, yeah?” Without a word of explanation, she headed in the direction of where the carach had disappeared into, eyes intently facing the ground.

“Yes... Carachs eat hearts, and will often lay their eggs in empty chest cavities... Where did you get that?” Anton squinted at the bloody muscle she held when she returned. He had followed her when she disappeared, dark brown eyes on her like a moth to flame but made no effort to move, taking instead the opportunity to rest a while. He was already back on his feet, stretching his limbs and massaging his joints, when Eilidh came back.

“You know, it’s actually quite the theme since one of their two types of venom, fractoxin, gives their victim this feeling of heartbreak, and in large doses, that feeling becomes more of the actual thing.” With his hand rhythmically but softly tapping his chest, he mimics the sound of a heartbeat, once, twice, thrice, slowing down as he goes, before making the final one more of an explosion, a heart exploding, the complete opposite of what happens when the heart stops. “Some people actually farm the tiny ones. For the fractoxin. Sells good money in the…” He cuts himself off, finally realizing that he’s been explaining too much, especially to someone he wasn’t sure yet was of the same community. ...supernatural community.

“Wait!” Anton instinctively followed her when she started to leave, grabbing his spear along the way. He didn’t even get to tell her of their proportions and exoskeleton, how injuring them without a sharp weapon like his would be tough. Those legs, not unlike hers, were pretty damn dangerous, too. Is she also a climber? “We need to strike them in the stomach, where they’re vulnerable! Or toss them into the sea or at least a nearby lake!”

When he caught up with her, his eyes grew wide in horror. Well, more of surprise than actual fear. Anton didn’t fear a lot of things. Or at least he tells himself that every time he goes to sleep. Some glowing rift in time and space, an interdimensional portal of sorts, from which a slime-covered overgrown spider, most likely the same one that tried to eat him earlier, was struggling with its two free legs to pull itself away? Anton didn’t fear that. Definitely not. He gulped. “...or that. That looks like a good place to leave them in.”

Eilidh took note of the information he freely offered. Fractoxin. Nice to put a name to what she assumed the smaller carach had shot into her leg. Seeing an example of the effects, she wasn’t surprised they farmed for it. Just concerned about how it was given… or taken. Concern for another time. The mention of a freshwater body was interesting. She had been under the—misguided it seemed—impression that only salt water affected carachs. Looks like she had some reading to do.

He seemed to know a lot about carachs. Was it a result of having to adjust to White Crest, or were supernatural creatures his real targets? Either way, she stored the knowledge for future use. But the context it was given brought her eyebrows down, scowl forming. “There’s no we. I’m trying to relocate them. Or did that fractoxin fuck with your head?” She flicked her hand at him, meant to emphasize her point. But the motion caused a few drops of blood to be flung out. An apology wasn’t given.

The sight before her made all sourness inside her crumble away. A giant, glowing gash hovered just a few feet away. It was like the very universe had been wounded. Or perhaps it was more like a mouth. A mouth that was in the middle of a meal. Ensnared in slime, a poor carach tried to free itself from its great maw. Its remaining legs scurried desperately against the ground. Puncture marks littered the soil before it, yet it did not, could not, move forward. Only enough strength to keep it in that same, desperate spot. But that strength was waning, and it started to slip. Slip. Slip. In one last attempt, it stabbed the earth with all limbs, keeping it in that desperate spot. A second passed. Strength failed it once more. It was sucked into the wound. Gone.

Eilidh blinked. Turning to Anton in the brief calm, she broke it with, “Do you think-” Something shot out at her. It gripped her tight, trapping her in that very same slime. Before she could even attempt to free herself, the world around her became a blur. It exploded into lights as she met the same fate as the carach. By the time she could process what had happened, she found herself tumbling, tumbling, tumbling down a wet tunnel. She grabbed a knife. Made it pierce into her new surroundings. The descent abruptly stopped. But she would not find peace. Just as the knife struck, a loud rumble shook the tunnel, carrying Eilidh along for the ride. It almost caused her to lose grip as moisture perforated everything. But her hands managed to hold firm. While the sound was all encompassing, based on the vibrations on her legs, she could tell it came adjacent to her. She looked up. Light shined down from her. But it came and went. Almost flashing, but not quite. She stared harder. Something disrupted the light on the edges. Something pointed.

Teeth.

“Oooooh, ya think you’re gonna eat me, huh?” Pulling out her other knife, she stabbed it just above where the first was struck. Her world shook again as the great sound pierced into everything. But still, she managed to hold. And so, she started to climb up.

Anton has had blood splattered all over his face before but not like this. Never like this. Eilidh was not a gentle “first time”, he frowned, heaving a sigh as she continued to be rude at him. If he had the time to think, maybe in a few hours after this hellish encounter should he survive, he would realize that her reactions were perfectly normal. From the way things have developed, she did not seem like she was, well, normal. His late grandfather had told him stories about certain “weirdness” in White Crest, though for his part, Anton has had encounters with sentient creatures other than humans and hunters, creatures that pretended to be normal but weren’t, with some of those encounters even...intimate.

Shaking his head vigorously, he tried to shake those thoughts off, away. Now was not the time to go down “sexy memory lane”, Anton, he cursed himself in his head. Half-expecting Eilidh to lecture him yet again, he was caught surprised when she cut herself off, and in a split-second of panic, he found his hands dropping his spear, instead instinctively trying to grab at the strange woman, trying to pull her back to safety. There were no other thoughts that cluttered his mind. In that moment, he was focused on doing one thing and one thing alone: Not let the angry woman get taken by the interdimensional reproductive organ, as if she were a baby about to get reabsorbed by Mother Space-Time. “Fuck!”

Alas, Anton was ill-equipped to do that one thing. He found his hands slipping, the blood on hers not helping one bit. He managed to stand his ground, however, keep himself from falling back, to the ground on his ass. In one fluid motion, he gritted his teeth, furious at his own failure, before grabbing his spear and chucking himself into the portal. If the Girl was here, she would’ve described it as yeeting.

Through the tunnel, he flew, though his eyes were closed as he tried his hardest to keep himself from screaming, barely succeeding. When it was all said and done, he landed with a sloppy thud a few steps behind Eilidh, a few seconds after her, like something just spat him out, his flavor a little too much for the universe's palate. “Well, that was a trip.” He quipped as he grabbed his spear tightly, having done the same as her, pierced what he could of the so-called tunnel to keep himself from getting swallowed by wherever, or whatever, he had been spat out into. Eyes adjusting to the blinking light from up above, he found the familiar form he had tried to save but failed, following right after her, using one of the many small knives he always had on his person whenever he was on a job. “I fucking hate this town.”

It took them some time, not helped by the fact that they were going against the grain, or something resembling that in wherever they were, but they managed to find solid respite from all the chaos and confusion. At least what resembled respite in wherever they were. Anton had learned not too long ago to abandon what he knew of mundane physics, which wasn't much to even begin with, when things like this were concerned. The exterminator may be one step above the mundane, but he was not a magic man, a spellcaster, and with the exception of the gifts he had received as a hunter, some he was born with, others he was trained for, he wasn't that far from being mundane himself. “Where the hell are we?”

Right as he asked that, the entirety of the tunnel shook again, as if an entire world was breaking in of itself. Anton turned behind him, his instincts telling him that something was about to happen from that very direction. “Uhh… Macleod? You might want to grab hold of some—” And just like that he was spat out again. Like a fish bone caught in a massive velvet worm’s throat. “I really fucking hate this town.”

While her ascent had started strong, the progress was… lacking. It was hard to climb a mountain when it was covered in slime and tried to buck you off like an angry horse. To make matters worse, the flesh wasn’t always so firm against her weight. Sometimes a puncture accidentally became a slash as it gave and she slid. Eliminating much needed progress. And further accelerating the bucking. Every motion had a consequence. The biggest would be found in letting go. “Fuck!” Again, she stabbed the flesh. “Fuck!” Again, she tensed as everything around shook violently. “Fuck this!” Again, she pulled herself up.

There was commotion from above, something that disturbed the light that was her destination. It rapidly grew until it became a man tumbling toward her, which she narrowly dodged. The whatever-the-hell the two were stuck in gave another shake, this time not caused by her. Once motion ceased, she dared a glance down. Anton looked up at her. Not knowing the noble origins of his arrival, she assumed he got taken off guard, same as her. “Really? I’d love to be in town right now, to be honest. Not this shit.” Especially since she had plans. Oh fuck, right! She had plans! Hopefully she wouldn’t keep Milo waiting too long.

With a small burst of determination, she continued upward. But her arms started to shake under the stress. Moisture punctured through her hands, her clothes, everything. It was suffocating. All encompassing. Like the cave. No, no, no, no, no, no. She needed to get out soon, wherever this was. “We’re on our way to be dinner, is what.” Her previous fire was starting to die. She was trapped. She was trapped again. Again. Trapped. Again. She needed her bliss. She needed her bliss. An unsteady hand searched desperately for it. “Fuck you, cunt!” She barked up at the taunting light.

The use of her name triggered something within her, her lost bite. “Who the hell told you-” She looked down, but Anton did not hold her attention for long. The same mucus that coated the walls of their prison was bubbling below them. Closer. And closer. One second it enveloped Anton. The next, herself. And finally, the two were flung onto solid ground.

Ground! Precious ground! She started kissing it passionately. But something was off. Pulling back, she stared down at the grass. Except, it wasn’t really grass. Deep inside, something told her what lay before lacked life. Lacked a soul. She looked around. Everything was like that. Trees covered the area, but she felt no comfort with them. Clearly distressed, she rapidly flung her head around, searching for something, anything. But her, Anton, and that thing, they were the only creatures to be seen. No buzz of an insect, song of a bird, or rustle of leaves. Just hollow trees.

Small hope was found when that same glowing gash came into view. Except it looked like it had been reflected into a mirror. Reversed, like a door. It must be a gateway! “Look!” She pointed it out to Anton. “Let’s get the fuck out-” The massive creature spewed its inner contents all over the ground again, and Eilidh had the misfortune of being covered in another layer of muck and gunk. It seemed like her torment would be coming to end as the flow slowed when thunk —something came crashing into her head. She fell onto her back with a squelch, the projectile landing right beside her. A key. Something seemingly small and inconsequential, but as she stared, her pupils dilated. Inner voice told her to take it, take it, take it! Following her impulses, she snatched the thing and struggled to get back on her feet.

The moment he felt something gross begin to swallow him up from beneath him, Anton immediately closed his eyes and held his breath. He knew that whatever would follow would be nothing he would enjoy, and he has enjoyed a plethora of questionable things, both morally and legally. He was right, for once in his life, and although it was technically not the worst thing he’s bathed himself in, he was relieved to find himself on solid ground once more, trying his best to get the gunk off of him properly. For fuck’s sake.

It didn’t take him long to notice that something wasn’t right. Because it never really is. Shaking as much of the disgusting muck off of him, off of his clothes, he squinted as he wiped his eyes off of them as well, only to be greeted by not even a buzzing bee. Wasn’t it bee season? From everything bee-related that has happened to him in the past few weeks, his train of thought would be understandably logical. Yet nothing else was logical about where they were. At least the Girl isn’t here. That must be why it’s so quiet, so peaceful, so bliss— His train of thought was derailed when he laid eyes on the fucking thing that ate them. “What the hell is that thing? Jabba the LSD Hutt? That better not be a bug, I swear to god.”

Anton wouldn’t even have noticed the portal if Eilidh hadn’t screamed at him, his entire attention on their would-have-been predator. At the very least, he saw it coming, the creature puking yet again, allowing him to avoid most of the vomit that unfortunately Eilidh could not. Oh, man, my shoes. He whined in his head when a splatter of gunk from Eilidh flew on his shoes, which were already covered in more muck not too long ago. Then he realized something: His hands were not holding anything. Ah, fuck. His dark brown eyes wandered from them to the giant worm thing. It’s fucking stuck in its throat, isn’t it? That would explain its continual vomiting. That and the many stabbings Eilidh did on its insides.

Turning towards Eilidh when something hit her on her head, Anton finally caught a glimpse of the portal, that interdimensional moo-moo. Fuck it, we’re out of here. Not even hesitating to leave Eilidh behind, the exterminator wrapped his hands around her waist and just freaking hightailed it out of there, using his newfound adrenaline to yeet them both out of the gloomy hellhole like a pair of slippers his mother used to aim at his head whenever he became too annoying to deal with.

Unfortunately, Anton was never a trained wrestler and both of them were more or less slippery from the giant creature’s vomit, so he struggled to keep his hands and arms around her, exerting more effort than was necessary, his face contorted in pain. “We’re gonna live past forty!” He screamed to keep his mind on something else.

The next thing he knew, he was lying down on his back, his vision a little blurry. He could almost take a nap then and there, his body exhausted. But then he remembered what just happened, the absolute grossness of it all, and did otherwise. Wiping more of the puke from his face, he just laid there, dark brown eyes staring at the sky, wondering if this was all worth anything. “Being alive takes so much effort.” He groaned. Oh, man, my spear.

Before she could fully rise, Eilidh felt hands on her. Instincts taking over, she struggled against their hold: fists struck against his back, legs kicked at his thighs. A scream rumbled in her chest, ready for release. But as Anton headed for the gateway, slipping and sliding along the unsteady ground but onward all the same, she realized what was going on. Oh. Confusion froze her, and amusement at his shitty attempt to navigate against all odds made her unsure how to react. The scream died before it began, and her limbs calmed: acceptance.

Facing opposite their retreat, she was able to fully focus on the creature for the first time. Under different circumstances, she would’ve been fascinated by the size, the beautiful colors, the entrancing eyes. Instead, she just looked at it with mild curiosity, dampened by frustration. It looked, no, glared back. It still quivered and rumbled from the ordeal, but it was quickly gaining composure. And was prepared to dish out some much needed punishment. From a protrusion on its head, the slime from before shot out, meant for them but it missed its mark. Instead, a tree a few meters from them became engulfed. The ooze shifting into a crystal prison was the last sight she saw before entering the gateway. Then everything blurred. And then became blinding.

Despite being able to focus this time, the second go-around was still as disorienting. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of lights. Crashing into the ground snapped them back open. She flopped on the hard surface like a dead fish; the impacts sounding just the same. She came to an ungraceful stop. Eyes quickly inspected her surroundings. A moth flew above nose. Life! The sight made her almost cry. She looked on further, up to the lively trees dancing in the wind, to the beautiful stars twinkling at her. Wait, stars? When did it become night time? Who cares, they were back. “Fuck whatever that was,” she grunted. “And don’t grab me like that again. That was terrible.” Despite her words, there was a hint of a chuckle on her lips.

The two enjoyed the well-earned peace, just laying there.

Which was the perfect position to avoid the slime projectile. It sped pass from above, missing them by a few inches. A bitter whisper hissed out of her, “Chan e seo a-rithist…” She turned her head just in time to see another mass of slime shoot out of the gateway. When that also failed to make contact with either of them, a third rocketed by. “Looks like someone’s pissed.” After the fourth slime also missed its target, the attempts ceased. But she doubted the creature gave up so quickly. She swatted at the closest thing of Anton’s she could, his shoes, in order to get his attention. “Get behind it.” She pointed at the gateway. With no idea how long this standstill would last, there was no time for explanations. Rolling onto her stomach, she quickly crawled, like a competitive baby, until the quieted rift was behind her. Supposedly safe—as long as the gateway only worked one-way—she finally rose to resting on her knees.

The motion jostled the mysterious key in her pocket. She suddenly remembered its presence. Right. That. A chill ran up her spine at the thought of it. With a shake of her head, it passed. For now.

For a moment or two, Anton felt relieved at the sound of Eilidh’s voice, so relieved in fact that a short-lived chuckle escaped from his lips. Then he made the mistake of running his gunk-ridden hand over his mouth. Fucking hell. At least he still had the wits to NOT accidentally taste the damned thing. Gross. His brain was too distracted by the combined effort of what the fuck just happened and what the hell was still on him to realize the day had abandoned him, throwing him to the mercy of the dark night sky with only a spattering of stars to keep it all appropriately beautiful.

Catching a glimpse of Eilidh’s hand, Anton turned towards her, wary about getting slapped for all his trouble. Then he found himself immediately surprised when he noticed more of the slime flying through the air. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Monkey see, monkey do, and Anton was on his belly before he knew it, crawling behind the portal. “Your park is super weird, lady.” Although he didn’t remember outright Eilidh’s suspiciously defensiveness towards her name, his subconscious helped him make the better decision to go with something else than his mispronounced rendition of what her parents had given her.

Once behind enemy lines, or at least the enemy’s line of sight, he helped himself off the ground, though only sitting to catch his breath for a few seconds, a much-needed respite from everything else that had happened. His dark brown eyes wandered over Eilidh, his ears catching the brief jostling in her pocket. For another moment or two, he just stared at her before breaking out in laughter as the portal started slowly collapsing in on itself, as if it was never there, as if it never tried to be their grave.

“Well,” He groaned as he forced himself back on his feet, battered and bruised. “I guess that’s that. Client only made mention of a single overgrown spider, and from the looks of things, that’s been taken care of.” He offered her a hand to help her back on her feet as well, more out of instinct than anything. As a pest hunter, Anton knew full well how it was better to fight together when there were more than one of him instead of doing otherwise, and both of them on their feet could prevent more surprises. “All’s well that ends well…”

By far, this was ostensibly the weirdest shit that has ever happened to Anton since he moved into town. The insect monsters were a given, considering his family’s history, but an interdimensional portal to god knows where and that freakishly massive monster? Now those would make for a great story. Now, however, he needed a bath and maybe dinner. He wondered if the Girl, the receptionist he inherited from his late grandfather, had already closed the office. She probably did, considering how she never liked to wait for him. Besides, she probably had more homework to worry about. Guess it’s dinner alone again. Beer and something that’s definitely not soup. He’s had enough soupy shit for the day.

Eyes locked. Body motionless. Eilidh’s fingers curled around the remaining dagger. Eyes focused. Body tensing. A predator ready to pounce. The gateway shifted; movement at last. But she was ready this time. Lifting her dagger, she—

The gateway disappeared.

Ah.

Laughter filled the air. In that moment of bewilderment and relief, Eilidh couldn’t help but offer her own. Everything was funnier when you were tired and a touch delirious. But it died in her throat when she remembered who she was laughing with. A cough replaced it. Her hand went to the ground. It played with the soil which had previously been bathed in otherworldly light. Otherwordly. The dirt rested on her fingers, unaware and uncaring of what had played above it. It sprinkled back to the rest of its brethren.

Gateways didn’t just appear. And there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. There must’ve been something that caused it, right? Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; if there were secrets she would have to dig, perhaps literally. Maybe this was a special place, where the separation of this world and not was thin, easy to bend. Or tear. Her back straightened, searching hands retreating back to herself. An apology to the area lay on her tongue. But, wait, shouldn’t the Park know about something like that? Well, there were a lot of shoulds the Park refused to do. In fact, Anton just alluded to one of them. Despite her efforts, the carach died anyway. But a sense of defeat failed to find her. There was a silver lining. Its death provided nutrients for that massive creature on the other side of the door. Maybe they were connected. Like that fallen carach, maybe it used the gateway as its trapdoor. Hidden, until unsuspecting prey stumbled by. Maybe it sealed the gateway when the prey started biting back. Maybe, maybe.

Ignoring the offered hand, she stood, a dull ache pulsing through her limbs, but it was ultimately fatigue that wanted to pull her back down. “Are you gonna mention the giant caterpillar, or just claim all their hard work?” A twinkle of mirth lay in her eyes, but buried in exhaustion. Not really caring for an answer, she shooed him away with a flick of her wrist. “Bye now.” Hopefully he’d actually leave this time, his ‘duty’ fulfilled. She returned to surveying her surroundings. But gravity wanted to return her to the ground. And hunger told her to run, to hunt. She debated if it was worth looking for answers, or to just go back to her place, since she wasn’t in the mood for—Dance Macabre! Fuck! She fished out her phone. Her newly broken phone. Gunk seeped into every crevice, leaving nothing untouched. No matter how many times her thumb smashed on a button, no light came. Milo would just have to have fun without her. She stuffed it back where she found it with a huff.

Camel’s back officially broken, and curiosity no longer able to fuel her, she decided to leave the questions for another day. Let the Park fence off the area for some bullshit reason, and she’ll sneak in with the darkness of night to keep her secret. Either to find answers or wait and see if anything unfolds. But for now, as crickets chirped, and foxes chittered, and the breeze whistled by, reminding her she was alive, surrounded by life. It was time to return to her roots.

Retrieving her bag, she took off. Muscles cried at the strain, but teeth chattered in excitement. The thrill of the hunt. After a distance, her tattered clothes proved too restricting, the coat of slime stiffening, as if it too wished to turn crystal. So, she removed the garments. Naked under the starlight. And kept running. Running. Searching for prey.

[END]

#wickedswriting #. ˋ ◈ ᵃⁿᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗ ››› c ˋ .#. ˋ ◈ ᵃⁿᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗ ››› para ˋ .#. ˋ ◈ ᶠᵉᵃᵗᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ››› eilidh macleod ˋ .#braindeacl

15 notes · View notes

hqxreader · 4 years

Note

OFC I LOVE THEM TAYLOR <333 🥰🥰🥰 your writing always makes me happy! these let me check up on ur hydration journey too 😤

So hear me out part 3 of saichi n idol reader

Sachi’s with a new intern and he notices hes a y/n stan and he says I can help u get tickets to their next fan meet if you want and hes like “OWO PLS DO U KNOW HER? IS IT TRUE SHE DATED YOUR BROTHER” and now Sachi has gotten enough of it and goes “she’s dating me not my brother” and the intern is like ‘Yeah dont we all wish that’ and continues his rounds. Then later on y/n comes in with her groupmate’s pupper like ‘owo they vomited on shoot bby pls help’ and ofc our baby saichi does and is like ‘Kiss me as payment then’ then y/n is like ‘????’ but kisses him anyway in front of the intern qwq (sprinkle in a i love you, puppy/peanut and I will be the happiest person) am so sorry taylor head empty only thoughts of the underrated king Sachi vmwlkfopwf pls just tell me if ur sick of it I don’t wanna be a bother ;;;;

AHH I’M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE THEM 😭😭😭 lemme go wipe my tears away real quick, damn onions. Went to the barn today so I’m staying hydrated 👍🏼

Peanut is used specially for the other Sachi series (i need a name for that, maybe i’ll just call it peanut or something idk y’all, hirugami fic series can’t stay forever) SO I used puppy instead! That’s so cute too 🥰

Series Masterlist

Sachi’s new intern, Endo, was a pretty good kid overall, he listened to instructions, remembered what he learned in school and what Sachi had been teaching him. Sadly that was just vet stuff, when it came to other matters he was something else.

Sachi noticed when Endo was fixing his shoe laces he was wearing a pair of your socks that has little pictures of you on them. ‘You had a sock line..?’ he thought before pushing it away. “Hey Endo,” he spoke up, “Are you a fan of y/n?”

Oh the boy went bonkers over you. “Oh my gosh yes!! She’s so beautiful and such an amazing kind person...” he continued to ramble off about you and your talent. Sachi knew more about you than just that, but he just smiled and nodded along with the young adult.

“Well hey, I can probably get you some tickets to her next fan meet if you want to go-”

“-WAIT REALLY DR. HIRUGAMI YOU COULD DO THAT FOR ME??!! YOU KNOW HER??”

“Well yeah, we’re-”

“-OH MY GOSH I FORGOT THAT’S RIGHT!! IS IT TRUE SHE AND YOUR BROTHER DATED??”

Poor babes take 1,000 (more like 3 but yeah haha)

At this point Sachi’s fed up with people asking him if you and his brother dated, you said on live tv that you weren’t, hell you even said you were dating him! What was the confusion about?!

“No, Endo, she really is dating me, not lying.”

Our (not so favorite cause course our favorite intern is María <3) intern just lightly punched his shoulder, “you’re pretty funny Dr. Hirugami, we all have dreams. Alright, I’m gonna go finish my rounds for the animals in the back, see ya!”

He wants a new intern.

~little time skip thanks to Sachirou being the amazing man he is~

Sachi’s in his office doing some paper work when he gets a knock on the door. He tells the person to come on in and to his surprise and delight, it’s you!

You come in with a little pooch and explain the story of why you came in to see him. “We were shooting this one scene, and Buster got sick in the middle of it, I told the crew I knew a great vet that would fix him up, and they sent me on my way here. So um.. can you help?”

Sachi couldn’t resist when you gave him puppy dog eyes, and he wouldn’t have said no anyway. “Of course, let’s take him to an examination room and see what’s going on.”

After the little pooches examination, Sachi tells you there’s nothing he can honestly do since the dog ate a bunch of gross stuff, you’ll just have to wait for him to puke it all back up.

Once you two figure out everything you should do to help the dog out, you step out to into the hallway and then you remember a detail of how the vet system works, “Oh yeah, I need to pay you for this, I guess just go to the front desk?”

When Sachi sees his intern standing a little ways behind you reading a file, he smirks, “Nah, a kiss is all the payment I need from you.”

You were a bit concerned, a kiss? Really? But you went along with whatever your boyfriend had planned and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Just a kiss?” “Yup, just a kiss.”

So you two kiss (i’m sorry i can’t write a halfway decent kiss if it were to save my life) and when Sachi pulls away, he whispers, “I love you, puppy.”

You feel your face warm up and just as you’re about to respond, I wonder who interrupts

“WOAH! DR. HIRUGAMI, YOU WEREN’T LYING EARLIER! WAIT, L/N Y/N OH MY GOSH!”

Sachi leans his forehead against yours and mumbles, “This is my intern, he adores you, please give him tickets or something, he’s even wearing your darn socks.”

and you can’t help but laugh, gotta love the idol life.

I hope you enjoyed! 💕

Taglist: @akasgisrightsactivist @yams046 @sunarincakes @kkoalaworld @sachirou-senpai @osamusriceballz @edvigelacivetta @tris-does-stuff @ylxxia @kageyuji @isentsworld @aaakaaashii @ahkaahshi @sachrious @pretty-setters

#marshmalloriz ⛺️#can't wait to see what ideas you have for part 4 #i'm loving this!#hirugami sachirou #hirugami sachiro #hirugami #hirugami sachirou x reader #hirugami sachiro x reader #hirugami x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq x reader #taylor attempts to write #might have a bunch of grammar mistake #half asleep

60 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Take it Slow - Part Eighty-Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You were thankful it was the weekend so you didn’t have to miss work because your fever did not break over night. Harry did have a photoshoot, but he called Mariah and she was able to cover for him. You told him over and over to just go and that you’d just be sleeping it off, but he wouldn’t allow it.

“It’s not like I have the flu, I’m not even throwing up.”

“But your forehead is hotter than shit, so I’m not leavin’. These people know Mariah, s’not a big deal.”

“But you won’t get paid for it, and-“

“Y/N.” He snaps. “M’takin’ care of yeh.”

“I don’t want you to get sick too.” You pout.

“I’ll be fine, I don’t really get sick.” He shrugs. “Now, I want you to drink your tea and relax. It’s rainin’ a bit today so you’re not even missin’ out on any nice weather.”

“M’so cold.” You shiver.

“Let me get some more blankets, hold on.”

He goes into the guest room and grabs the comforter. He throws it over you and helps you get cozier.

“Thank you, I’m sorry.”

“Babe.” He chuckles. “Don’t be sorry.” He strokes your head. “Alright, so you ate your toast so that’s good…got fresh tea…took some Tylenol…I’m gonna leave yeh be, do some work up in the loft. My phone’s with me, just text me or call if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay, thank you.”

He kisses your hairline and heads out of the bedroom. Buster sits up in the loft with Harry, although he won’t stop whining.

“Buster, I know mummy’s home and you wanna see her, but she doesn’t feel good.” He strokes the top of his head. “Isn’t daddy enough?” Buster yips and licks Harry’s hand. He chuckles and strokes him one more times. “Should we go check on her? Been and hour and she hasn’t called f’me.”

Harry and Buster go down the stairs and head to the bedroom. He opens the door slowly and sees you passed out, and curled up with your baby blankets snuggled to your face. Harry thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and if you didn’t look so terrible he definitely would’ve taken your picture. He smiles and leaves the room.

“She’s just fine, Buster. Let’s take you out for a walky.”

When Harry gets back from taking Buster out, he hears things coming from the kitchen. He pushes the door open and crosses his arms when he sees you out of bed.

“What are you doin’?” You jump and turn to look at him.

“I got hungry.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” You shrug. “Y/N.” He sighs. “Let me make yeh lunch. If you had just waited you would have seen I was going to bring you some soup.”

“Stop treating me like a baby. I know how to take care of myself.” You pout. “I needed to get up and stretch anyways.” You grab the pot you were looking for and put it on the stove.

Harry sighs and walks over to you. Before you know it, you’re being scooped up, and carried off to your bedroom. You don’t even fight him, it felt nice to be snuggled a little. He sets you back down on the bed.

“I’ll make your soup.”

“Will you come cuddle after I eat? Need cuddles, Harry.”

He smiles and nods before leaving the room. He cracks open the can of sodium filled noodle soup he knew you were craving and pours it into the pot. After five minutes it’s just hot enough and he pours it into the bowl. Harry has Buster lay in his dog bed while he goes back into the bedroom.

“Here yeh go darlin’.” You take the soup from.

“Thank you.”

“I just need to finish some things up, and then I’ll come lay with you for a bit, okay?”

“Okay.”

After an hour, Harry finished up on the photos he was editing. He couldn’t just not work while he was home. You perk up when you see him come in again. He gets on the bed and crawls towards you. He wraps his arm around you and you snuggle into his chest.

“Needed cuddles, hm?”

“Mhm, it’s the best medicine.”

You were cute when you were sick, and he couldn’t stand it. He smiles as he rests his chin on your head. He swipes the back of his hand across your forehead.

“You’re still really warm, Y/N…”

“I know.”

“You eat all your soup?”

“Yup.”

He was trying to think of what else he could do for you. But when he feels you nestle in further to him, he knew he was doing exactly what you needed. You just wanted to be held and caressed by him. Your stomach started to feel weird though.

“Oh no.” You say to yourself. “Harry, I think I’m going to-“ You clasp your hand over your mouth and you practically jump off the bed.

You just make it to the toilet. All of the soup you had came up. Harry rushes in as you flush the toilet. Your hair was already up, so he didn’t need to hold it back for you. He grabs a rag and runs it under the cold water to press to your forehead. When he’s done you stand up and brush your teeth.

“Guess it’s a stomach bug, great.” You groan.

“Soup was probably too heavy on your stomach, I’ll stick to toast and tea.” He rubs your back and helps you back into bed. He drags a bucket over just in case you won’t be able to make it to the bathroom next time.

It seems like every hour you had to throw up. You threw up until nothing but bile was left. You had started crying because the heaving was killing your stomach. Harry hated seeing you like this, and so did Buster.

“Here, I ran down to the corner store and got you some Gatorade.” He says handing it to you, but you shake your head. “I know you don’t wanna keep pukin’, but this’ll give you some strength back, I promise.”

You take slow sips of the Gatorade as you sit on the bathroom floor. Harry sits down next to you and tries to soothe you.

“I never get sick like this. Colds here and there, but I don’t get this at all. I get a flu shot every year.”

“S’not the flu, it’s a little bug…” He looks over at the tub. “Hey, why don’t I run you a nice, hot bath, hm? I’ll put some bubbles in it too. You can just sit and relax. Would you like that?”

You nod and he gets up to turn the water in the tub on. You were able to keep the Gatorade down for now, but you weren’t going to hold your breath. You watch Harry put the bubble bath into the water. He helps you up and you get all your clothes off. You sigh when you sink into the warm water. He goes into the bedroom to grab his glasses and a book, and sits on the floor next to the tub, leaning back against it. Buster comes trotting in and lays next to Harry.

You reach a hand out to play with Harry’s hair and he moans softly, closing his eyes to enjoy it. You can your arm around him as he reads, and you feel your eyes get droopy. When he hears your soft snores he turns to look at you.

“Babe?” He nudges you.

“Mm…”

“Can’t have yeh fallin’ asleep in there, c’mon.”

He wraps a towel around you and lifts you out. He puts one of his t-shirts on you and gets you into bed. He grabs the thermometer and sticks it in your ear.

“Hm, temp’s finally goin’ down. Maybe you just needed to throw it all up.”

“Maybe. Now I just feel tired.”

“Throwin’ up all day can do that.” He strokes your cheek. “Want some more toast?”

“I never want to eat toast again.”

“I’ll get some crackers then. See if we can keep that down.”

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have passed out after you took more NyQuil. You felt weak from throwing up all day yesterday, but all in all you were feeling better. You didn’t have a temperature anymore, but Harry still wouldn’t let you do much. At least he let you out of the bedroom today.

“I just wanna go out on the balcony, it’s so nice out.”

“Alright.” He follows you outside and you both sit down. Buster sits between the two of you.

“He’s gotten so big, I can’t believe it.” You sigh.

“Don’t think he’ll be gettin’ much bigger at least.”

“Any word on how Eliza May is doing?”

“Oh sure, she’s great, so is El. They’re all just tired.” He takes his phone out. “Lou sent along some pictures yesterday.” You take his phone from him and look through them.

“She’s so tiny!” You squeal. “So precious.” You hand his phone back to him.

“So, you’re really feelin’ better?”

“Mhm, much. I can’t thank you enough for being so good to me yesterday.” You reach your hand out to hold his. He happily takes it.

“Don’t need to thank me, it’s all just part of it.” He shrugs.

“Part of what?”

“This.” He gestures between the two of you. “Like, it’s just what you do when you love someone. You’d do the same for me.”

“In a heart beat, doll.” You squeeze his hand.

It was officially September. Sarah and Niall’s trip to Ireland went really well, and while he was out there, he asked her to move in with him. She of course said yes, and was so excited. Her and Rachel sobbed on each other for nostalgic purposes, it was an end to era. But Rachel could afford her apartment on her own, and she was sort of used to living by herself anyways. It was a really easy move. All Sarah needed to bring with her was clothes and some other small things.

Labor Day Weekend was rolling around and you all were trying to figure out what you wanted to do. Seth was having party at his apartment, and it would be nice to be outside instead of stuffed into someone’s apartment.

“You’d like his place, he has a pool and a small yard out back.” You explain. “It’ll be more chill than the fourth.”

“Alright, yeah, let’s go.” Harry says.

“Are you sure? We can find something else to do…”

“No, I think it’ll be fun. Besides, Niall, Mariah, and Isaac will all be there.” You smile at him and get ready for bed. You turn over and he taps your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

You hadn’t had sex since you had gotten sick, just wanting to make sure you wouldn’t pass anything along to him. He looks at you with his bedroom eyes and it send a surge through you. You roll onto your back.

“Is the store still closed, or can I come in?” You burst our laughing and pull him onto you, opening your legs up.

He dips his head down and kisses you, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip.

“Mm, before we get started, you can’t leave any visible marks on me.”

“Why the fuck not?” Oh great, aggressive Harry.

“It’s one thing with our close friends, but…I don’t know…I don’t want Isaac seeing, or any random person that also might be there.”

“Or Seth.”

“Harry.” You roll your eyes, and he snatches your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger so you’ll look at him.

“You’ve been so good about not doin’ that.” He makes a tsk tsk noise.

“Doing what?”

He smirks at you and shakes his head.

“I’ll take my rings off, but hand’s goin’ right around that little throat of yours.” He sits up and takes his rings off, setting them down on the night table. Your heart was beating really fast. “That alright with you?”

“Do I have a choice?” You smirk.

“Course you do.” His features soften. “M’not gonna force you to let me choke you.” He chuckles.

“You’re doing a lot of talking, and not a whole lot of choking.”

His mouth falls open and you start giggling. He lifts your shirt off and kisses down your stomach, and down to your center. He looks up at you while he makes light licks up towards your clit. You grip the blankets, and then his tongue is plunging inside you. His thumb rubs circles on your clit, and one of your hands tugs at his hair. He groans against you, and your hips buck up towards him. He lets you grind against his face, not something he always lets you do since he likes being in control of your orgasm. He looks up at you and is elated. Your head was thrown back and you were biting your bottom lip, just going to town on his tongue.

You gasp when he pinches your clit, and then rubs it furiously.

“Oh my god, oh my god, fuck! Harry!” Music to his ears. You come all over his tongue and he laps it up.

He gives you a minute to catch your breath before spreading your legs back apart. He thrusts into you and you grab at his biceps to keep yourself steady. You don’t stay like that long though. He grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders. Your back arches from feeling him so deep.

Not that you didn’t always enjoy sex with Harry, but you were really feeling it tonight. You wanted to feel more. You reach for one of his hands. He thinks you just want to lace your fingers together, but you pull his hand towards your throat. He drops one of your legs so he can lean in easier. He gets a really good grip on you and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

You were going to come again, any second really. He he was hitting your g-spot, and everything just felt amazing. He feels you tighten around him and you gasp as you release. He lets go of your throat to help you get some air. You reach up and grab his face to bring towards yours. You slot your mouth over his and his thrusts become quick and sloppy.

“Fuck, Harry.” You wrap your legs around his waist, and his come shoots inside you.

He collapses on top of you, and you hold him close to your chest. You kiss his hairline over and over and he whimpers as he pulls out.

“You could’ve stayed inside longer.” You say softly.

“I know, but I really need to wee.”

You laugh as he gets up and shuffles into the bathroom. You use it next and then you both get settled. He rolls over so you can spoon him, and you nestle in close to his back. He holds the hand that’s draped over his side and presses it to his stomach.

“Love you baby.” You coo.

“Love you too.”

The next day around 11AM, you, Harry, Niall, and Sarah all drive together to Seth’s. Rachel and Mariah would be meeting you there. It was hotter than a mother fucker out, so you knew you’d be swimming. You had a white tank top on with some jean shorts, a cute on piece on underneath.

Plenty of Seth’s friends were already there, and so was Isaac. They both smile when they see the group of you show up. Rachel and Mariah had already arrived as well. Seth comes over to greet you all.

“Hey!” He hugs you, maybe a little too long for Harry’s liking, but then lets you go. He shakes Harry’s hand.

“I made that taco dip you like so much.” You smile and take it from Harry.

“You’re the best! Wanna bring it inside for me? You can just stick it on the table. I’m trying to keep the food out of the sun.”

“Good idea.”

You and Sarah go into the apartment together to set all the food you brought down.

“Grab a chair guys, plenty of places to sit. Obviously not as big as my parent’s place, but it works. Feel free to jump in the pool too.” He smiles and walks away.

Harry and Niall find a place to sit. You and Sarah walk back out with drinks for all four of you. You kiss Harry’s cheek and then go to say hit to Rachel and Mariah.

“You look cute.” Rachel pats your bum and you giggle.

“Thanks! These shorts suit me, hm?”

“Yeah, they look comfy too.”

“They are! Got them through StitchFix believe it or not.”

Harry looks over to see Isaac and Seth sharing a wicker love-seat. Seth has his arm around Isaac’s shoulders. Everyone seems really chill. Rachel and Mariah pull up chairs so they can sit with you all, and you plop down in Harry’s lap. He wasn’t expecting it, but he was happy about it.

“I don’t know how you two can sit like that, it’s way too fucking hot.” Sarah laughs.

“Didn’t you know, we need to be touching at all times.” You say sarcastically and everyone laughs. You turn to look at him. “You’re not too hot like this are you? I’ll move-“

“Nope, wantcha right here.”

“Y/N, when does Nannie come into town?” Rachel asks.

“Oh! Not for a couple of weeks. Did you all want to come over for New Year’s dinner too? My family will be there of course, but I know with school starting it’s not easy for you guys to zip home.”

“Are you making brisket?” Sarah asks.

“What the fuck else would I make?” You chuckle. “Of course!”

“Then I’m there.”

“Will your mum make that dump cake?” Niall asks.

“Obviously.”

“Then I’m there too.”

“Yay!”

The only person that knew about the full plans of that weekend was Niall. Harry had even barely told Louis. He was desperately trying to keep everything under wraps.

After a few drinks, you were ready to go for a swim. You were sweating way too much for it to be comfortable anymore. You get off Harry and take your tank top off.

“Ow, ow!” Sarah says and you flip her off.

“Oh, shut up. Are you gonna swim with me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

You flip your hair over and throw it up into a bun, next you take your shorts off.

“I can’t remember the last time you wore a one-piece, it’s cute, but I’m surprised.” Rachel says.

The three of you walk over to the pool.

“I sort of needed to. I had marks on my hips, and I have a really fresh one right here.” You tap near your left ribs. “He listened to me last night, but attacked me this morning in the shower.” You sigh. “Oh well.”

They both giggle at you and you all step into the pool. You all sigh with relief. Isaac comes into the water with you all.

“Hey Isaac.” You say.

“Hi girls, mind if I join you?”

“Not at all!” Sarah says.

“It was just getting way too hot.”

“Agreed.” You say. “So, you looked real cozy with Seth.” You smirk.

“We’ve been very cozy.” He winks at you. “It’s only been a few weeks, but I really see this turning into something.” He says quietly. “He’s like a really good cook.”

“I know.” You and Sarah say at the same time, and both burst out laughing.

“Oh that’s right, you slept with him too.” He laughs.

“Only for a semester. Y/N got that D for an entire school year.”

You splash at her and look over to the boys to make sure they didn’t hear.

“Can you maybe not? He’s in a good mood, and I don’t need him getting all…dominant.”

“You do know how toxic that sounds right?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, Y/N…since when are you afraid of Harry?” Rachel asks.

“I’m not afraid of him, I just don’t want to cause any unnecessary drama. No one needs to be reminded that I used to fuck our party host.”

“Why not, it’s fun to talk about.” Seth says as he sits at the edge of the pool. He pulls Isaac to stand between his legs, facing away from him. Isaac leans back to rest his forearms on Seth’s thighs. “Ohhh, that’s right, your boyfriend might get a little jealous, my bad.” He smirks.

“Leave Harry alone.” Isaac pouts up at Seth. “He means well, he’s a mooshball at heart.”

“It’s true…he’s very sensitive.” You look over at him again. He was laughing over something with Niall and Sarah. “So can we cool it with all that?”

Everyone agrees and shrugs it off. The conversation goes back to something lighter. Seth says something that makes everyone burst into laughter, especially you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and had tears streaming down your cheeks. It made everyone else laugh even harder.

“On that note, I’m gonna fire the grill up.” He stands up.

“Do you need help?” Isaac asks looking up at him. Seth crouches in front of him and shakes his head no. He kisses him quick on the lips, stands up, and walks towards the grill. Isaac turns back to you three. “God, he’s so hot.” You all giggle.

“So, how often does that happen?” You ask.

“Plenty often.” He smiles. “He’s a really good kisser. Never dated a guy with a lip piercing before, it’s cool.”

“Dated, so you’re dating?” Rachel asks with a smile.

“I guess so…I mean I’d say we’re seeing each other, right?”

“Oh for sure.” Sarah says. “I mean, he openly kissed you at his party. If that’s not a signal that he’s taken, I don’t know what is.”

Niall, Harry, and Mariah all come towards the pool and get in. You feel giddy when you see Harry sort of sweaty with his shirt off. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him.

“It’s not your birthday anymore, so that’ll be enough of that.” Sarah says.

“Jesus, Seth can kiss Isaac, but I can’t kiss Harry?” You ask, letting go of him.

“Kiss? Yes. Tongue fuck? No.” She chuckles.

“My tongue wasn’t even leaving my mouth!” You laugh.

“I can vouch for her, it was a closed mouth kiss, Sarah. But I’d be happy to-“

“Nope!” She dives under the water and swims away. Niall follows her.

The rest of you laugh.

“Does she seriously have a problem with PDA? I don’t wanna make her uncomfortable?” Harry asks you.

“No, I just think that anytime she sees us go at it she remember that time you sucked on my neck so hard my skin popped when you let go and it freaked her out.”

“Ohhhhh.” He looks at Isaac. “So, you’re havin’ fun?”

“Mhm, lots.”

“He’s treatin’ yeh nice and all that?”

“Yes, Dad, he treats me real nice.”

“Oi, I’m just makin’ sure, don’t get your knickers twisted.”

“You know what I think the problem here is?” Mariah starts. “Isaac’s fullest attention used to be yours, and now it’s not and I think you’re a little jealous.” She smiles.

“Me?!”

“God, who else?”

“M’just lookin’ out for my friend.” He crosses his arms.

“But there’s nothing for you to look out for.” Isaac says. “Although, I haven’t minded the extra attention from you.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing to look out for?”

“I mean, he’s genuinely a really nice guy.”

“It’s true, Harry.” Rachel says. “I’ve known Seth a long time, and never have I ever seen him hurt someone he’s dated. If things didn’t work out, it was usually because of the other person, not him. God, Y/N, do you remember when he found out Mel cheated on him?”

“That was not good, not good at all. It was a miracle we got him to stop crying.”

“What stupid bitch would cheat on him? To give up a dick like that?”

Our jaw drops and you start laughing, so does Rachel.

“What are you admitting to, exactly?” You ask him, giggling.”

“Shut up.” He pouts. “Answer the question.”

“He wouldn’t have sex with her. It was our freshman year, and he hadn’t had sex in general, and she didn’t feel like being patient. She was a stupid bitch.” You explain.

“Did you beat her up?” Harry jokes.

“No, but I should have!”

“I would’ve paid money to see that. She knew better than to come around us again.” Rachel says.

Eventually you all get some food, and the day goes on. Harry notices various point of you and Seth chatting and laughing. He’s shocked when he’s not even a little bothered. For the first time in his entire life, he felt safe and secure.

Later on, Harry finds himself in the kitchen making some drinks when Seth walks in.

“Hey, man, having fun?” Seth asks him with a smile.

“Yeah, thanks again for havin’ us.” Harry smiles back. “Things seem to be going well with you and Isaac.”

“Yeah! He’s really great. Thanks again for being so cool about Y/N wanting to set us up.”

“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t super comfortable with it at first…given your history.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But you seem to make my friend happy, so…” He takes a sip of his drink. “And you do throw a pretty good party.” He smiles.

“Thanks.” He grabs a fresh bowl of chips to bring outside. “I do really like Isaac, I’m not going to do anything to hurt him. I just wanted you to hear that from me.”

“I appreciate that.”

Later that night, Seth gets a fire started. You had all changed into somewhat warmer clothes. You were sitting in Harry’s lap, feeding him a s’more. Some of the chocolate gets on his chin and you suck it off discretely. He feeds you one, and you both giggle, trying not to make a mess.

Harry was really proud of you. You stuck to drinking seltzer water all day. You made it look like an actual drink so no one would say anything to you. You had started to level out from your meds, and things were getting better for you mentally.

“Went on a drink run.” Sarah says, handing you a cup.

“Thanks.” You smile. You sip on it without thinking and cough it up when you taste the vodka.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been drinking vodka tonic’s all day…” She frowns.

“I…uh…” You get off of Harry, and walk towards the house. “I have to go to the bathroom, excuse me.” Sarah looks at Harry.

“She’s…not really able to drink alcohol right now, but she doesn’t really want everyone knowin’ why, and it’s not what you think.” He smirks. “So get that thought out of your mind right now.”

“Well, if she’s not pregnant, why wouldn’t she be drinking?”

“Does she need a reason? Can’t a person just decide not to drink?” He sighs. “I’m gonna make sure she’s alright.”

Harry goes into the house and finds you in the bathroom. He closes the door behind him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I genuinely needed to pee. What did you say to her?”

“I just said you weren’t drinkin’.” He shrugs. “I assured her it wasn’t because you were pregnant, so don’t worry about that rumor getting’ started.”

“Thanks.” You smile. “I just don’t want them knowing…not yet anyways. I don’t want them looking at me any different.”

“I know baby, you’ll tell them when you’re ready.”

He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

A couple of hours later, and you’re all ready to head out. You give Seth a hug goodbye and thank him for a great time. You and Harry sit in the backseat of Niall’s car while him and Sarah sit up front.

“That was a lot of fun.” Niall says. “Feel like I never left the pool.”

“It was definitely nice to have a place to cool off today. I’m glad we didn’t decide to just have a party at our place.” Sarah says.

“Our place.” You giggle. “Love that for you guys.” Sarah turns around to you and gives you a beaming smile.

When you get home you say goodnight to your friends. You couldn’t wait to see Buster. He had spent the day with your mom. He yips at the two of you when you walk in and you rub his belly.

“My good boy.” You coo.

Harry wraps his arms around your waist and spins you around.

“What are you doing?” You laugh.

“Nothin’, just love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

He sets you down and you look at him. You cup his face and pull him down to you. You kiss him and lace your hands through his hair. His hands slide your butt and he gives you a squeeze. You sink further into the kiss.

“Hey, um, how tired are you?”

“Not very, why?”

“What if…I went and took a shower?” He rubs the back of his neck.

No matter how many times you two did this, Harry was always bashful when he asked for it. You thought it was cute. You bite your bottom lip and look up at him. You pull him back in to kiss you, sticking your tongue in his mouth, making him groan against you.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #fluff #smut #enjoy!

214 notes · View notes

damfinofanfiction · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7: The Shoot (V.2.)

The note is at the end of this chapter

Gail walked into Benjamin’s Photography studio and looked around the place. It had the size of a warehouse. She had a dress borrowed from a friend laid on her arm and had brought makeup to use on the set. With her free hand, She waved to Benjamin, who was still setting up the equipment.

He then noticed the refined curls on her locks, “Darling your hair looks ravishing!”

“Thank you, I was just at the salon.” Hesitant to put her things down and getting ready, Gail informed him, “I have this dress for the shoot. Do you have a changing room?”

He pointed to where it is, “Yes, it is to your left.” She thanked him as she walked to the door.

Having already mounted the equipment, Ben saw Gail emerge from the room in a dress printed with large roses and with light makeup on her face. Ben liked what he saw on her, took the stool for her to sit on the backdrop.

When she sat down, he told her, “How about you try several different headshots to find out which is best?”

"That would be perfect.," Gail nodded. She and Ben were discussing each pose before proceeding with the photoshoot.

As he instructed her, Gail turned to her side looking up, and then a flash came from the camera. When she turned her head to the camera, she smiled a bit. Flash. Turned all of her to the front. Flash. Got up to lean on the seat. Flash. After all that, Gail was feeling hot from the lights. Ben gave her a paper cup of water for her to drink.

After she took hydrating sips she asked him, “Do you have any more ideas?”

Ben took the now empty cup from her when he suggested, “How about you show some more skin?”

Shocked, she shook her head, “No!”

He took his hand on her shoulder, “It’s only the shoulders. Take those straps down.”

She brushed it off, “No, that’s not the image I’m going for, Ben!”

He implored her, “Ladies like you pose nude in photos.”

“Ladies like me?!?” She stood in retaliation. “Is this what the photo session was about? Me out of my dress?”

He shouted, “No, I’m only helping your damn career!!”

Seeing Gail upset, he realized he had offended her profession. He stuttered, “I-I didn’t mean that.”

Fumed, she declared, “We are done here.”

She went to the dressing room to collect her stuff she didn’t bother changing back because she wanted to leave immediately.

Ben grabbed her arm, but she brushed it off, “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. Can I at least make any amends?”

Before storming out, she requested without maintaining eye contact, “Just send me the photos as soon as they’re developed so I know what I’m looking at, and don’t talk to me again.”

**************

One month later.

Caruthers was helping Buster get dressed for the Seven Chances cast party. It has been usually possible for him to dress up on his own, but he was not accustomed to putting on a tuxedo without help. Earlier today, Keaton was informed that he and his wife Natalie will be riding with her sister Constance, nicknamed Dutch, William “buster Collier, and his mother-in-law Peg Talmadge. The elder sister, Norma, and her husband Joe Schenck were at their place setting up the party. Keaton didn’t mind riding with the former two as Collier was his friend and Dutch treated him as a brother, but Peg was harsher than her husband; she wished her daughter would've chosen a better suitor than a man who made a living by throwing himself to get some laughs. Anyway, he was relieved to have finished his least favorite movie. But hoped it will be profitable enough for his next feature.

He heard a few knocks from his bedroom door, “Yes?”

His other butler called through the door, “The Vehicle has just arrived.”

When Keaton started working on his tie, he said, “Tell ‘em I’ll be right over.”

Soon as he exited the room, Natalie came out the door next to him wearing a rose-colored evening gown with pearls dangling on her chest. Her handmaid carried the hemline of her dress so she wouldn't trip down the stairs, while Buster followed them. He and Natalie bid good night to their young sons when their governess brought them from their playroom. The governess, who was holding the year-old Robert, and the oldest son, Jimmy watched the parents leave the mansion for their ride before she took them to their nursery.

As the car drove through Muirfield road, Buster had a chat with the other Buster while the missus converses with his in-laws. When Dutch pardoned herself out of the casual talk to cuddle with Collier, Keaton made a move by placing his hand next to Natalie's, having them touch. Even though she almost flinched, she didn't want to be interrupted.

After she finished her, she whispered to Buster, “I wish you wouldn’t try to touch me.”

He replied, “I’m still your husband aren't I?”

“It's a good thing or you'd be out with someone else.”

They both knew if they were going to fight it wouldn’t be the place and time since they’re in a crowded vehicle. Buster soothed her, “But I’m here. That’s all that matters.” He was going to put his hand on hers, but backed out at the last minute. He added, “And thank you for coming along.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s at Norma’s, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And besides, Mother thought if I went with you, the guest would see how we were doing.” Natalie looked out the window.

Crestfallen he asked, “Are we okay?”

After a pause, she replied, “It depends.”

Buster got her attention back when he nudged at her, telling her, “You look lovely.” Though with a stern face, she took the compliment. Natalie lent her hand for him to kiss it, then she gently whisked it away, having no more than one.

When the Keatons arrived at Joe and Norma’s residence, they pretended to be an ideal couple as if nothing was wrong between them like Buster always wished for.

*****************

"Hey, give her a free ticket," Sally demanded to the ticket vendor, although Gail mentioned beforehand she didn’t mind.

The vendor shook her head, “Sorry, It's against policy.”

“She’s in that movie.” She pointed to the lobby poster of Seven chances.

Gail added, “It’s only a bit role.”

The vendor asked, “Were you an extra?

Gail answered yes. The vendor said, “I still won’t allow a free ticket, but you can pay half.”

After receiving her ticket, Gail and Sally went to the theater and sat down. The Pianist started playing when the film started. The audience and even Gail were surprised to see that the Prologue was in color, but grew confused when the rest of the film was played in black and white. They were amazed at the camera tricks which has always been a favorite for her. There are plenty of laughs throughout the feature, especially when Keaton’s character James wanted to get married by 7 pm to inherit millions of dollars but his proposals always fail. She felt bad for the main character. When the brides’ scene played, Gail was looking out for herself. She pointed Sally where she was. Gail always loved seeing herself in a film. When she started watching films, she imagined herself as a character in that film, but now she appeared in several shorts a year though she was in the background. At the end of the film when it was thought that James failed to get married in time and sulks in shame. Gail almost cried, but then lights up when he finds out the actual time and marries his beloved sweetheart in time. The audience was enabled to applaud as the end title came on.

With the picture over, the friends got up from their seats to leave, but stopped when they saw Benjamin in the theatre as well. “I thought I might find you here,” he said with a sheepish tone.

Gail had not spoken to Ben since the photo shoot, and he kept apologizing to her. She still avoided him. He even sent her flowers to win her back. When he sent her the photos for her to look over, in a note that came with it, he recommended the one where she looked up with the spotlight shining on her. Gail did write back saying she liked that one too.

Gail was less angry than the last time they saw each other. she asked, “How did you know we’d be here?”

“You usually come here whenever a new movie is released, including the one with Keaton. Can we talk?”

“Well, not here.”

The three walked to the nearest drugstore where Gail and Ben sat at a table by the window. Sally was by the checkout, purchasing cookies while keeping an eye on them like a hawk.

“Look, I was an ass that day. I should’ve never offended you and your job.”

“I promised my grandmother, I would never let California change me. I didn't want to alter my image.”

Ben nodded in agreement, “I was merely trying to help you advance your career.”

“And I do appreciate it.”

He took her hand, “There is another reason I wanted to see you.” When she asked why. He told her, “I will be going to New York City for business next Monday.”

“How long?”, she sat up straight.

“If something happens, a month."

“That seems long. I think that’ll be plenty of space.”

“If you want I will write you as soon as I get there.”

“Sure, I never got to thank you for the headshots.”

“You’re welcome. I made more copies so I could send them to the studio.”

“That’ll be enough.”

Gail hugged Ben goodbye when he got up from his seat and he waved to her while leaving the drugstore.

Sally took his now empty seat, “Did you two break up?”

Gail slouched as she replied, “I’m not so sure. We didn’t bring that up.”

The blonde took a sandwich cookie out of the package, “Hey, Bae, do you want a Hydrox cookie?”

She accepted the treat and ate it. Contrary to their talk, Gail was unsure about her future with Benjamin but at least he was trying his best.

Note: I have written an alternate scene where they go to a cast party instead of a premiere since it was actually held at the Capitol in New York. I kept the original for archival reasons. Chapter 13 is at the beginning stages but I’m afraid that I have another case of the writer’s block. i’m hoping to get it done at least before I go out to another vacation next month. if you have any ideas and questions, let me know and hope you enjoyed my chapters.

#Buster Keaton #buster keaton fanfiction #buster fic #buster keaton fandom #buster #actor RPF #silent era #silent comedy #silent film #Seven Chances

3 notes · View notes

desperationandgin · 5 years

Text

The Beat My Heart Skips (Market Price One-Shot)

Rating: General Audiences

Also Read On: Ao3

Summary: Jamie attempts to surprise his pregnant wife with the foods she craves.

A/N: From a prompt @smashing-teacups sent me like 8 months ago! This is also my dear BFF’s very BELATED birthday fic. ilu so much <3

I adjusted a little but I hope the spirit of the prompt lives on!

The Beat My Heart Skips

The texts from Claire had started at two in the afternoon while he was at Lallybroch, deep in planning the next few weekends’ worth of farmer’s market details.

Burgers for dinner? 😘

He’d replied he would pick them up from her newly-declared favorite place for burgers, and promised chips to go along with them. A half-hour later, the next message arrived.

thinking more about the pork rolls we had the other night.

He’d replied:

Instead of the burgers?

Think so. Sorry. Baby’s picky 🤷‍♀️

It made him smile, swiping to the home screen only to see the latest in his growing collection of photos featuring Claire’s belly. The bump was only clearly visible when she was unclothed, but it was there, a swelling proof of life, and he’d found he could stare, stroke, and murmur to that growing roundness for hours on end. He’d finally responded with a quick dinna fash and assumed that would be the end of it.

He was wrong. The next messages had come in rapid succession, mildly alarming until he could read them.

I think pizza would be better

Remember the burritos we had at Mazama?

Jamie, I don’t know what your child wants…

Kebabs??

Would you like to contribute an idea?

Thumb hovering over the phone, he’d tried to decide if he should pick one thing from her list, or offer something completely different. He’d decided, in the end, to go with a solid favorite.

Thai noodles, Sassenach?

The three telltale bubbles had appeared, then dropped, then appeared again before another text came through from his wife.

That sounds good too.

It was the ‘too’ that convinced him of what needed to be done.

You only need to be prepared with an appetite when I’m home. 5p. No later.

Now, he’s sitting in the passenger seat of his sister’s mini-van while Jenny drives.

“How many places is it, total?” she asks, glancing over.

Scrolling on his phone, he counts aloud. “Six. No, seven. I need more ice cream.”

“Alright, weel, we have to be strategic about it. Ice cream last, obviously. Then I’ll just drop ye back at yours and both of ye can come over tomorrow for Sunday supper. We’ll finish the plannin’ then, ye get your car, all done.”

Jamie looks over at his sister, impressed. “Thought it all out, have ye?”

“If you take a pregnant woman hot, fresh food that’s been left to steam in its containers only tae go soft and damp, she’ll throw it at yer heid. Trust me.”

He snorts. “Should I ask Ian?”

“He’ll no’ bring me soggy chips again, I’ll tell ye that much.” Jenny pats her own very round belly. “Learned wi’ the last bairn.”

Suitably impressed (and making mental notes he never knew he needed), they make a plan beginning with pizza and ending with a very quick stop inside a corner shop for two containers of Neapolitan. By 4:45, Jamie’s outside of his home, hands loaded with takeout bags. Leaning down into the open car window, he holds up his bounty.

“Thank ye, truly. I owe ye, Jen.”

She waves him off. “Ye’ll babysit soon enough.” Her face softens, though, and she meets his gaze. “Da would be proud. Mam, too.”

Lowering his head, Jamie swallows, but when he looks up again, there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I always hope, but hearing it from you, especially, is important.”

“Why me?” she asks as he steps back.

“On account of ye bein’ the wee ball-buster in the family,” he teases fondly, thanking her again before watching her drive safely away. Juggling bags and keys, Jamie lets himself into the house, calling out.

“Sassenach?”

“In here,” she calls from the living room, and he ducks into the kitchen.

“Stay there, I have a surprise for ye. And dinnae try to peek, ye’re no’ verra sneaky anyway,” he says in return. As he sets everything up along their counter, buffet style, he can hear her moving about.

“I assume this surprise is in regards to food,” she deducts.

“Always kent ye should ha’ been a detective,” Jamie smirks, able to hear her huff from the other room. “I’m almost done, ye can bide a second longer.”

“One,” she says pointedly. “Your child is starving.”

“I’ve noticed ye tend to refer to the bairn only as mine when ye cannae make your mind up about something.”

Her voice is closer when she speaks. “That’s because you’re stubborn,” Claire retorts, standing directly out of sight.

“Oh, am I the only one?” he asks as he finishes by propping the pizza open. “I always thought ye were a relatively patient woman, Sassenach, until I got ye wi’ child.”

“I am bloody patient! It’s the only reason I haven’t stepped foot into the kitchen to throttle you yet.”

He can’t help but laugh silently for a moment, drawing it out a few seconds longer before finally poking his head around the corner only to come face to face with her. “Alright, a nighean. Ye can come in.” Stepping aside, he watches as she enters, taking in the sight of her realizing what she’s seeing.

“I figured we could make a good go of it, and now we have plenty for tomorrow,” Jamie explains.

Claire stares at the bounty in front of her in stunned silence before looking up at her husband. “You went to all of these places?”

“Aye. Well, me and Jen. Ian was home and she was desperate to get out of the house for a bit anyway. So she drove me around, and now you and the bairn have whatever ye’d like. Including more ice cream.”

Too moved for a moment to say anything, she simply blinks at Jamie, afraid to open her mouth because she’s sure she’ll cry.

A good thing, then, that he knows to step forward, reaching out to rest his hands at her hips. “I wanted ye to have whatever you wanted, Sassenach.”

That does it: the flood gates open (because hell if she has any control over her hormones anymore) and she finds herself cradled to his chest. “I cannot believe you,” she mumbles into his shirt affectionately, arms looping around his waist.

“I do try to keep ye guessin’,” he murmurs into her hair, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“Do you also plan on helping me eat all of this?” She pulls back after placing a soft kiss to his chest before getting a plate and trying to decide what to attack first.

“Oh, aye, I’ll be eating plenty. I’ve been eying a burrito since we picked them up,” he promises, having no intention of letting his wife eat alone. Pointing out the different varieties as she picks and chooses, he loads a plate for himself and takes it to the living room, settling with her leaning against the arm of the sofa sideways, legs across his lap.

Bringing a forkful of noodles to her mouth, she pauses to look at him. “Thank you, Jamie. For indulging me.”

Balancing his plate with one hand, the other squeezes her calf. “I figured if ye’re going through all the trouble of making a person, Sassenach, the least I can do is feed ye what ye want.”

When she smiles, it’s as though his entire soul flares with warmth, and it’s difficult to take his eyes from her.

Which is why he sees it the instant all color drains from her face. What happens next requires zero communication as she sits up, he takes her plate, and her legs swing from his lap. Within thirty seconds, she’s in their bathroom bending over the toilet, vomiting. Wincing in sympathy, Jamie simply stares for a moment at the two plates full of uneaten supper in his hands.

Putting the dishes on the coffee table, he rises and makes his way to the bathroom to join her, reaching out to hold her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry, a nighean.” Jamie’s always very aware that he’s the one who did this to her anytime she’s miserable, and it makes him regret being quite so boastful about it.

When her stomach finally calms, he stands with her and leans against the doorframe as she rinses with the mouthwash that is now a permanent fixture on the countertop instead of tucked away in the medicine cabinet.

And then he watches as she begins to cry, confusion making his forehead furrow, wondering what this new mood swing is and how to handle it. Reaching out for her, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her in an attempt to soothe as he rubs her back. “Dinna weep, lass,” he murmurs, more concerned as she clings to him tightly.

“Fuck, Jamie,” she manages, sniffling when she finally pulls back, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand.

“Likely no’ right now,” he tries to tease gently as he lifts a hand to stroke her cheek.

She doesn’t even react, simply chooses to ignore him and move on even as tears brim on her lashline. “I can’t eat any of that food right now.”

“I realized it soon as ye got up from the couch,” he points out, kissing her forehead.

“But you went to...Christ, how many places was it?” she asks as new guilt washes over her in an irrational wave. “And Jenny was with you,” she laments.

He doesn’t know how to fix this, exactly, and so he simply guides her by the hand to their bedroom to avoid the smell of various foods in the front of the house.

“Mo nighean donn, why would Jenny be put out? She’s been pregnant a dozen times, she kens how it goes,” Jamie points out gently.

“It was so thoughtful of you. I wanted to be able to enjoy your effort,” Claire admits as his arms encircle her.

“Ye still can when ye feel like eating. All of it will still be there, Sassenach. Doesna matter if we eat it this evening or tomorrow.”

“You aren’t annoyed?” she asks, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“Only at yer hormones, but no’ at you,” he promises with a kiss to her knuckles, over her wedding ring.

“Well, I’m annoyed at my hormones too,” Claire exhales, recovered now from the bout of tears but not the nausea as she lies down on the bed properly. “When your aunt called, she said being sick all the time is the sign of a boy.”

“Should ask Jen, she might have some light to shed on it, havin’ had both,” Jamie suggests as he lays propped on his side and pushes his hand under her shirt to lightly stroke her stomach.

Closing her eyes, she concentrates on the feel of his touch rather than the vertigo. “Do you want to find out what we’re having, or let it be a surprise?”

His fingers still for a moment before continuing as he ponders her question. “I never considered it. Does it matter to ye, for decorating and buying things?”

“Not particularly. There aren’t very many things that can truly be left a surprise in life.” She can’t help smiling at the idea of it, of not knowing until their child is in their arms.

The look on her face makes it clear her mind is set, and Jamie drops a kiss to her abdomen. “We’ll leave it a mystery then, Sassenach.”

“We’ll have to pick a name for either scenario,” she points out, taking deep breaths in and exhaling slowly as she wills away her symptoms. When Jamie doesn’t respond right away, she cracks one eye open only to find him lost in thought. A hand lands in his hair, gently scratching his scalp. “Where’d you go?”

He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “I’m here,” he promises with another kiss. “I was only thinking...if it’d be alright wi’ ye...we could name the bairn after my da.” When he chances a glance up at her, his eyes are suspiciously damp.

If ever there is a key to getting her nausea to dissipate, it’s the sight of her husband’s vulnerability. Her hand shifts from his hair down his face to cradle his cheek. “Brian,” she murmurs, nodding her agreement. “And if it’s a girl?”

He’s quiet, ghosting his lips across her skin now, trying to will her hormones to settle for a while.

“Hmm. Weel, there’s always, simply, Brianna,” Jamie suggests.

Claire tries it on her tongue, adding a second name. “Brianna Ellen Fraser. Or Brian Henry Fraser. What do you think?”

Scooting up on the bed now, he pulls his wife close, needing to kiss her ring again, to say a silent prayer for the love of this woman. “That ye’d honor my parents that way, Claire-” It makes him more emotional than he would have ever imagined, the way his wife’s heart shows itself.

“I thought, since we’re having - what was it, ten by your last count? - since we’re having ten children, the second could be named after my parents,” she suggests, knowing it will happen now that she’s said it.

“It’ll no’ be ten if ye feel like this every time,” he says with equal parts concern and frustration that his wife simply can’t eat when she’d like.

“Jamie,” she murmurs, gliding her thumb across his jaw. “This amount of illness is normal. And it’s getting somewhat better. Today was unfortunate,” she allows, a hint of apology in her tone.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” he assures her as he sits up, leaning down to drop a kiss to her forehead before finally standing. “Now we have plenty for breakfast and lunch. If ye dinna mind noodles before ten in the morning.”

She chuckles, the waves of nausea somewhat less turbulent. “If my stomach can manage, then so will I.” But she already knows the noodles will never make it to morning. She’ll be awake at three in the morning, eating when her hunger finally kicks in.

“I’ll go and put everything away, then we’ll see if ye’ll do wi’ a bit of light reading,” he offers. He’ll also quickly eat while he isn’t in front of her.

“Reading in bed?”

“Aye, I’ll no’ make ye move,” he promises, reaching out to cradle her cheek before stepping back.

“Then you’ll know where to find me when you return,” she says lightly with a small, fond smile.

“Which is exactly where I want ye to be, incidentally.”

She chuckles, waving playfully at him to go. “I’m looking forward to reading your next pick.”

Before he can make it out of the room, she calls him back.

“Aye?”

She takes a moment to look him over, still in his jeans and button-down from the day, curls askew and his scruff just past its normal length.

“I’m very madly in love with you, you know.”

When he smiles he ducks his head, and the way his ears turn bright red makes her want to laugh in sheer delight of him.

“That’s verra good, Sassenach. On account of I happen to be mad wi’ love for ye myself.”

“You’d better go, before you say something very Jamie Fraser and make me cry,” she warns with a more playful smile at the end.

He can’t help doubling back, this time to kiss the soft round apple of Claire’s cheek before nuzzling it with the tip of his nose.

“I’ll bring ye back a ginger ale.”

When he finally leaves her to rest, Jamie puts everything away in record time - except for the noodles. He places them in a separate container and sets it in the fridge with a sticky note on top.

For the bairn xx

#outlander #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander fic #my fic #market price

178 notes · View notes

busterkeatonfanfic · 4 years

Photo

Chapter 3

The third glass of whiskey at lunch was a miscalculation. He felt a little too unsteady on his feet as he walked into the barber shop set and they weren’t filming any pratfalls today, so he couldn’t play it off as that. He put an extra stick of chewing gum in his mouth just in case the first stick and brushing his teeth hadn’t concealed the smell of the drink on his breath, and tried to keep his gait steady. At least he’d be sitting for most of this scene.

Reisner was fussing over the props with the workmen, telling them some sign wasn’t straight. “Buster, where do you want these?” said Bert, gesturing to the barber chairs where he and his girl were destined to reunite. “Do you want them farther apart than this? Closer? Or what?”

Buster shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs. “They look fine to me. Maybe a little closer.”

“I mean, are the cameras going to have enough room?”

“Bert, they’re fine,” he said. “Move them a little closer together if you want. You know I trust you.”

Bert nodded and wrestled the other chair forward a few inches. As he wrestled, he said offhandedly, “You sure scared Nelly, didn’t you?”

Buster had no idea what he was talking about. “Nelly?”

“The prop girl, Nelly.”

“I’m not following.” Behind him and to the side, men bustled lighting into place.

“The new girl I’ve got in the prop house. I sent her to ask you about the chairs. She looked like a ghost when she came back.”

A second ticked by, then another. Then another. He still wasn’t—

Realization landed like an oversized prop anvil. “Ah, hell.”

“What?” said Bert.

“That was your prop girl?”

“Yes. What did you say to her to make her look so white?” Bert gave him a knowing look.

“Nothing!” Buster said. He’d been acting and ad-libbing his whole life and he wasn’t about to stop now. “She got a little tongue-tied and I filled in the blanks. Thought she was coming to ask for her big break in the movies, you know how they corner me about that stuff. I must have embarrassed her, I guess.”

Blame that third glass of whiskey. It had made him dopey and loose, thrown off his judgment. There was a feeling in his stomach right now that he didn’t like, a sizzling sense of shame. It was a feeling that hung around too often these days in one form or another and he was getting sick of it. It wasn’t his fault. Nine times out of ten when there was a woman under the age of forty in his dressing room, she was already naked or willing to be. The other times, it was the age-old hard-luck story about needing a break. He’d had perfect reason to assume both motives. It wasn’t his fault.

The shame niggled. Oh yes it was.

He tried not to dwell on the fact that he’d insulted the girl’s looks on top of it all. In truth, there was nothing wrong with them. She looked fine, just not suited to pictures was all. With the whiskey freeing his tongue, he’d thought nothing of answering honestly. Now the terrible coarseness of his remarks was apparent.

The shame went on niggling him until the cameras began rolling and he lost himself where he always lost himself, facing down the cameras with a stone face.

By the time she’d gone to bed, Nelly’s humiliation had invited a friend along: anger. She knew that men were frequently cruel, licentious, and crude, but she’d never thought in a million years that Buster Keaton could be counted amongst them. All of it was a damnable lie, the wife and the children and the sophisticated parties, and most of all the sweet trepidatious Buster of the films. He wasn’t Rudolph Valentino’s Sheik or John Barrymore’s Don Juan, not her favorite character or star in other words, but she’d always found him charming; what girl didn’t? She had to wonder—were they all like this? Did Valentino have a nightly habit of robbing women of their virtue? Did Barrymore delight in dressing down girls until they felt about as small and as low as a bug?

She rolled onto her side fitfully, fuming. It now seemed like a mistake to come to California. Perhaps it was just better to turn tail and go back to Evanston rather than spend another day in the employment of a man who had belittled her ambitions and her looks before she had a chance to get a word in edgewise. She could maybe work herself up to a couple starring roles in local productions, retire at the height of her career, marry, and host garden parties and luncheons for the Women’s Auxiliary Club just like her mother and aunts. Of course, the thought wasn’t a serious one. She was being paid a handsome twelve dollars a day, far more than she’d ever earned as a part-time governess in Evanston. She’d swallow her pride, finish out the picture, and use the experience as entrance into another picture, maybe not a laugh feature next time.

She let a fantasy of John Barrymore rock her off to sleep. Although she’d never seen him in Hamlet , she’d clipped a picture from the production from a magazine and glued it into her scrapbook: dark clothing, brooding brow, those strong hands that could clutch a girl and make her swoon. After Steamboat wrapped up, she’d return south to Hollywood and finagle her way onto the United Artists lot, where she would be cast as Katherine to Barrymore’s Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew . The last thought in her mind before she drifted off was of Barrymore’s big hands tearing the blankets off of Kate as she lay in bed, declaring them unfit for such a woman as his wife.

The memory of what he’d said to the prop girl bit at Buster like a flea all the next morning. As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, his traitorous mind would wander to the incident and he’d be reminded unpleasantly of what a low thing he’d done. He stuck to one whiskey at lunch, even though he would have preferred a second. He tried calling Nate at the Villa, thinking that hearing her voice might provide some kind of consolation. The phone just rang and rang, until finally Edwin picked up and told him she was with Dutch.

At last, his conscience pricked him so much he left his dressing room early. He peeked in the canteen and cheers of “Buster!” erupted from the extras and the crew. He gave them a wave of acknowledgment and left. The girl wasn’t there. He exited and headed toward the prop house. Feeling slightly shy in addition to remorseful, he swung open the door when he got there. The prop girl didn’t notice him over the sound of the radio. She had her back turned to him at the workbench and was crunching an apple and reading a book.

“Hello,” he said.

“Jesus Christ!” she said, nearly startling out of her skin and whipping her head around.

Her swearing made him feel better. In his experience girls who swore could take care of themselves, which meant that maybe he hadn’t crushed her underfoot like a flimsy petunia blossom.

She blanched when she realized who it was. “Oh. Mr. Keaton,” she said. An expression resembling dislike settled on her face.

He couldn’t blame her. He crossed the room and swung himself onto the workbench, dangling his legs. “I insulted you yesterday,” he said, studying her face. Despite the dainty little mouth she’d drawn on with lipstick, she couldn’t hide the fact that her lips were full. Her brown hair was done up in earphones in a faux bob. She reminded him a little of Evelyn Nesbit. Now that he had a good look at her, without the glaze of whiskey, he doubly regretted what he’d said about her looks.

She stared straight ahead, expressionless, the apple forgotten in her hand. She still seemed a little nervous around him, but there was a set to her jaw that told him he was not going to be forgiven easily.

“There’s baseball practice tonight at seven. You’re invited,” he tried.

She finally met his eyes. “I have plans.”

“Okay,” he said, conceding. “You’re angry with me. I get it. Look, I was out of line yesterday. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for opening my big fat mouth. I was way out of line.”

She merely looked at him.

“I acted disgracefully. There’s nothing wrong with your looks. I never should have said anything, I never should have—” He couldn’t bring himself to mention that he assumed she’d also been looking for sex. “I’ve been out of sorts lately and, look, I won’t start making excuses. It was wrong, plain and simple. I made assumptions and I shouldn’t have. What’s your name? Nelly?” he said, pressing. He wasn’t going to let up until that flea he called his conscience stopped biting.

“Nelly,” she confirmed in a flat voice.

“Let me make it up to you, Nelly. Do you want to be an extra today? I’ll ask Bert to give you the afternoon off.” He could almost see her internal struggle. She set her half-eaten apple on the workbench and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t want any favors,” she said, staring ahead.

She was a proud one. It should have annoyed him, but he found himself admiring her stubbornness. Anyway, he had a lot of practice in Natalie cracking tough nuts. He hopped off the workbench and sank to one knee, propping supplicating hands on her knee. “Please?”

She drew in her lips and he could tell she was trying not to smile. Ah, sweet victory.

For his pièce de résistance, he broke into song. “ I can hear the robins singing, Nellie Dean. Sweetest recollections ringing, Nellie Dean .”

Nelly succumbed to the smile. “Alright,” she said, shaking her head and trying to hide it.

“Good,” he said, getting to his feet. He crossed the room and poked his head into the area where all the costumes were stored. Although the film was ostensibly set fifty years ago, all of the women’s costumes were of the latest fashion. He thumbed through the rack and pulled out a few dresses halfway before selecting a pink sleeveless one embroidered with burgundy flowers. “Wear this,” he said, walking back into the main room and handing it to her.

She looked surprised. “Are you sure?” Her eyes told him she still didn’t trust him.

“Of course I’m sure. Go dress and I’ll walk you to the set.”

Looking now as though she especially didn’t trust him, she nonetheless went into the costume room and closed the door behind her. She came out less than a minute later. She looked just fine—maybe not like a leading lady—but just fine. The shame nipped him again and he scratched it off, reminding himself that he was making it up to her.

“Sure you don’t want something nicer for the shoot?” he said, noticing that she was wearing flat brown Oxfords.

“Oh, they’re fine. I don’t suppose the cameras will be anywhere near my feet.”

When he stepped closer to her, it clicked; she was a couple inches shorter than she’d been yesterday. He’d made her embarrassed of her height and she switched shoes. It was another reminder of how rotten his words had been. No taller than he was, she was certainly not a giant. He even had an inch on her, give or take.

“Do I need to put on more makeup?” she said.

He shook his head. “No, you don’t need to wear any if you’re in the background. We have to do it to stick out,” he said, indicating his powdered cheeks.

“Alright then.”

“Hold on a minute.” He ripped a piece of paper from a steno pad on the workbench and wrote, Stealing Nelly for the afternoon. Will return her in a timely fashion. -Buster. He set the half-eaten apple on top of it for a paperweight and offered his arm to Nelly. She just stared at it and then at him. “I’ll walk you to the set,” he explained.

She continued to look unsure as she accepted it, but his conscience felt much lighter as they left the prop house together.

The bright lights agreed with Nelly. They probably wouldn’t have appeared particularly bright to any proper budding starlet, but that Buster had made her an extra for a day, that she would actually be on film and tens of thousands of people would see her, was exactly what she’d been hoping for when she’d taken a train from Evanston to West Hollywood to Sacramento.

It turned out that being an extra involved a lot of standing around waiting for direction while the cameras tracked the exploits of the main characters, namely Buster and his mouse-sized co-star Marion, whom everyone called Peanuts. The scene was about missed connections; Buster, encountering his girl on the street, tries to apologize to her. She ducks in and out of the telegraph office, debating whether to accept, then follows after him as he trudges away from her.

Peanuts needed the benefit of multiple takes. Buster was flawless, Nelly thought, in every one. Her role was to be one of the town inhabitants walking down the sidewalk. It was hot in the early afternoon sun and she was grateful that Buster had picked out a sleeveless dress for her. She tried to act casual while strolling back and forth and not get distracted by the action further down the sidewalk where Buster and Peanuts were.

After the scene had wrapped, the director and Buster moved onto the next one: Buster walks dejectedly up the street and a car whizzes his carpetbag out of his hands and onto its running board. She and the other extras gathered in a small crowd facing the car to watch. Behind the scenes like this, she began to see how the gags were accomplished. For this one, the camera tracked Buster on the left. When the car came into frame, it obscured most of his body. Because of this, the audience couldn’t see one of the actors in the car pluck the carpetbag from Buster’s hand in one fluid movement, which left him bag-free and bewildered after the car had passed. The hand-off was invisible. This scene took only a couple takes. Buster was all business in between, telling the other actors and the director in a serious way what he thought the scene should look like. It was all so fascinating to finally be on the inside and see the nuts and bolts. She watched carefully, trying to commit it to memory.

For the next scene, the carpet bag was meant to tumble off the running board and trip up Buster, who was running at top speed after the car. It took around three or four takes for the bag to fall satisfactorily into Buster’s path. Each time it did, he would somehow tumble head over heels to miss it. The first time he accomplished the stunt, the extras hooted and broke into clapping. Buster flashed a quick smile, clearly pleased, and Nelly joined in the applause. No matter how many times he vaulted over the bag, going briefly vertical, she couldn’t tell how he did it. After that, it was back to the sidewalk for her even though she was too far in the distance, she thought, for the cameras to see her at this point.

After some time had gone by, Buster announced that it was a wrap. So that was that. She looked around at a couple of the other extras for guidance, wondering what came next. The logical thing to do would be to return the dress and finish out the rest of the day in the prop house, so she decided just to slip away rather than reveal herself as a rookie by asking. As she turned at the corner near the facade of the Western Union Telegraph building to take a shortcut, the sound of hurried footsteps made her look over her shoulder. It was Buster. The extras turned to look at them as Buster came to a stop. Nelly felt herself pale a little as she faced him. For all her bravery in the prop house earlier, she was still far from used to him.

“Coming to practice tonight?” he said, a little out of breath.

She was surprised. She’d assumed that the invitation earlier had been flippant. “I can’t,” she said, before she had time to think about it. She had a hard time reading the answering expression on his face, but she thought it was puzzlement. “I have plans.”

However thrilling being an extra had been, part of her had not forgiven him. When she’d stepped back and looked at her torso in her bureau mirror that morning, all she could think about was his comment about her bosom being too big and her needing to lose twenty pounds. The words still felt like salt in a bleeding gash, even if he clearly did wish to make it up to her. Anyway, she wasn’t fibbing about having plans. She’d agreed to play blackjack with Joe and Maggie, the owners of the house on 22nd Street, that night.

“Well, alright then,” Buster said, with a nod. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure,” she said, feeling an upwelling of all sorts of emotions: regret at turning him down, pride at her own resolve, anxiety that he might decide to can her if she continued to rebuff him. “Thank you for letting me be part of the picture.”

“No problem.”

She nodded at him and they parted.

The worst of the confused feelings had faded by eight that evening when she was at the leather-top folding table with Joe and Maggie in their sitting room, regaling them with stories from the day. By now, they knew that she was employed in the prop shop and not as an extra, so the fact that she really had been an extra that afternoon was of the utmost interest to both. She went over every detail, keeping back, of course, yesterday’s ignominious encounter with the picture’s star. As the conversation waned and they settled into the game of blackjack, she felt positively luminous. Not even Mary Pickford, she thought, could feel as famous as she did tonight. (Watch Steamboat Bill, Jr. here.)

#Buster Keaton #Silent Film #Golden Age Hollywood #Actor RPF #RPF #Fan fiction #Fan Fic

9 notes · View notes

ick25 · 4 years

Text

Rockman.EXE Axess Episode 1 Review.

Presenting Rockman’s new Style... Change.

I can’t promise that I am gonna review the rest of the episodes of Axess nor will I make it very long since I have already stated that this is my least favorite season, but this Corona Virus situation is already driving me crazy so I might as well vent my frustrations here.

Fun fact:

This season never aired in Latin America so I had no idea that there were more seasons beyond the virus buster episode. I watched it in English thinking that it was an episode from the first two seasons that I missed, it started with the same made up intro from the last season, but to my surprise the episode opens in Net City, something I don’t remember ever seeing in previous episodes, and then I saw Megaman’s art style and my confusion became excitement right before I heard the English dub the made me cringed so hard that it almost ruined the show for me, until the writing did that later on. (But I like Rockman’s english voice, it’s kinda hot n.n)

Episode tittle: Cross Fusion!

The episode opens with Rockman fighting two Navis at once in the Net Coliseum, and I’m already loving the art style and how they don’t show his face during the battle until Netto’s voice tells him that he already got their battle pattern. It was like they were saying, “ It’s him! it’s the Rockman you know and love after so long! And he looks slightly shinier too”!

BTW, I’m watching this with Spanish subs, that were sadly not made by yours truly.

Anyway, Netto sends the long Sword and the Yo-yo chips that appear with a new cybernetic themed background and... WOAH WOAH WOAH! TWO DIFFERENT ART STYLES IN THE SAME EPISODE?!

You thought I wouldn’t notice?

Not even five minutes in and this episode is already hitting me with inconsistent art to save in animation, which wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t noticeable.

Rockman defeats the two Navis and returns to Netto who gives us but a glimpse of the new PET design before the tittle card appears.

But worry not, for the next scene shows us what the Advanced PET model looks like with this short and kinda lame commercial.

“Believe in the heart of the chips”, it’s the vibe I’m getting here.

And I also never thought it would be possible for the Spanish subs to write something dumber than “Plug-in your heart”. (It’s roughly saying, “Do plug-in into your heart”)

We then join Netto skating with Meiru on her scooter who is basically shaming him for acting weak in his battle until the end, and do you see something wrong with this image?

That’s right, good ol’ Rush is there on Meiru’s scooter for no reason, except to remind me that Rockman will never materialize in the real world like him.

Then they bump into Chisao, yes, Chisao, who wastes no time in telling the audience that Dekao is in Jawaii for some reason.

What little Mr. exposition forgot to tell us is why is he there instead of Dekao.

Netto and Meiru invite Chisao to go with them to Scilab, which is now gonna be a very recurrent place, to deliver a bag to Netto’s dad who is in Japan working on something, and once he’s done he’ll go back to abandoning his family to travel the world.

He is working on a top secret experiment, so everyone is of course invited to watch it.

These are Officer Mizaki and his Navi Prismman, who are not gonna be important until very later in the season where they’re affected by this show’s equivalent of drugs, but right now they are gonna remind us of the dangers of human trials.

Eguchi Meijin makes a comeback, since the last time we saw him he was making a late advertisement for Battle Network 3 in episode 51. He tells Netto and the others that the experiment is called Cross Fusion and that it is the next step after the Virus Buster episode where Dr. Hikari brought a bunch of cyber data into the real world, which is bringing a Net Navi into the real World through its operator’s body? That was already possible without the human body!

What is the purpose of Cross Fusion then? Other than to turn the series into a superhero kind of show for western audiences.

There is no real explanation of why they want to do this or why Cross Fusion is the only way to achieve this purpose. Why not simply materialized the Navis like in the last episode? You can’t really argue that it was the viruses intervention that made this possible, because a “good” scientist would try to reproduce this result without risking the life of a human being, there certainly must be other ways to do so.

It seems that the only excuse they have is that Netto’s dad was not aware that this event happened because he was asleep during the entire episode, and if Netto never mentioned it even once.

“I wanna risk my life too since that experiment reminded me how cool it was when Rockman materialized back in Jawaii when your Dimensional Core program was corrupted by viruses, so I would most definitely die just to see that happen again.”

Dr. Hikari: O_O

Yuichiro obviously denies his son’s suicidal request but just then, viruses take over Scilab, and the room they are in is locked down with the ventilation system sucking in the air giving them 15 minutes before they run out of oxygen.

We cut to a commercial break where we see a spoiler of Netto getting his wish right after his dad said no.

It’s just Rockman with a different outfit design and brown hair and eyes.

As per the norm, Netto and Meiru plug-in their Navis with new animations that are gonna be recycled since they changed the art style once again.

Rockman and Roll are sent into the computer via infrared beams and we see that the computer is full of Mettools and Spikey viruses, while showing us Roll’s bum for some reason.

I feel robbed, I want my Rockman butt shot!

Time to change the art again.

Here is something new that I like, they are now showing how the Mettool viruses can block shots.

This probably means that these are high level Mettools since those are the ones that block attacks in the games.

I also like how they get creative with the chips they use like the Aqua Sword.

Even Roll’s Aqua Tower looks more powerful.

You almost feel sorry for those viruses.

They even make the Black Hole, a chip I find pretty useless in the games, look epic.

Or maybe I’m just not using it right.

They keep running out of air, and once again Meiru has to show that she is the weakest of them all by fainting right before Roll is attacked by a Fire Dragon virus. Netto’s dad catches Meiru and manages to plug-out Roll just in time so... Oh, hmm, that doesn’t look right.

It would be fine if she was his daughter, but that isn’t the case so it just looks wrong. Adult men shouldn’t be holding little girls like that! O~O

Rockman then avenges Roll with another cool Aqua Sword animation.

https://66.media.tumblr.com/0ee15af9e77ae94c845bcdf6895629db/tumblr_n3ipukz8hC1rzkxhio8_250.gifv

Sometimes screen shots can’t do a scene justice.

More Spikey viruses appear and the culprit is then revealed, a new Navi named Savageman AKA Beastman.

Stop holding her like that, it’s weird!

Rockman attacks him with his cool Aqua Sword move, but he only deletes the Spikey viruses around him. Then he uses his Rock Buster and starts shooting at Beastman who isn’t affected by any of them.

I’m sorry? What Beastman is saying here is that to him, Rockman is just a puppet being controlled by a human, showing us that the anime is once again differing from the games, but I’ll talk about that later.

Netto hears that they only have 3 minutes left of air and decides to destroy what we learned from the first season by suddenly making him an expert on Program Advances without the help of the Aqua Custom Style, this time it’s the Z- Cannon or Zetta Cannon.

I honestly like the new animation for the Program Advance, every time Netto inserts more than one chip they appear as little blocks piling under each other until the third chip comes in and pushes the first block up. This easily shows how the chip programs are compatible with one another since that is how a Program Advance is activated.

The Program Advance seems to be effective as Beastman logs out, the computer is back to normal, the room opens up again, and the day is saved... Or so we thought!

This is were the episode starts to feel a little rushed. Right after this we get another mysterious figure who clearly isn’t the Navi we saw watching Beastman’s performance just a couple of minutes ago.

First episode and we already have two more bad guys introduced? And to make things worse, this second villain shoots some type of missiles from outer space that surround Scilab and traps it inside a Dimensional Area.

Yeap, that’s right, the Dimensional Area Netto’s dad is still working on has somehow ended up in the wrong hands, and they made it even better! Because get this, not only does it allow viruses to materialize in the real world, but Navis as well! Cross Fusion has already become pointless! However, the show doesn’t see it that way.

The Mettool and Spikey viruses, along with Spark Bees this time, begin destroying Scilab. Since they are all inside a Dimensional Area, Netto remembers what Meijin said before and decides to go try his luck with Cross Fusion to save everybody, and runs downstairs to get a Synchro Chip.

Considering that Cross Fusion is still being tested, would this be considered something brave or very stupid?

Netto encounters the Mystery Navi from before who is stealing all the Synchro Chips, and tries to Ash Ketchum his way into stopping him.

Seriously, what is it with young shonen protagonists and trying to attack a powerful non human antagonist face on?

After that failed attempt, Shademan calls Beastman who also materializes to destroy what remains of Scilab while he runs away with the Synchro Chips, except for two chips that he clumsily drops when grabbing them all with one hand. Netto sees the chips and decides to use them to fight Beastman, and what surprises me here is that Rockman doesn’t really object to this despite knowing that it could be dangerous, and he has always been seen as the smart one.

Obviously, Cross Fusion is a success as we get the typical anime transformation sequence, but to be honest, I’ve seen better.

No, the first statement is more accurate. This is a fusion.

And this one too.

Two different characters that merge together to create an entirely new being that shares traits from both predecessors.

No, in fact, It is not Netto turning into Rockman, it’s just Netto in Rockman’s clothing. The only difference here is that Netto fights more aggressively than Rockman.

Except for that time Rockman stabbed Stoneman in the eye, he never really maims anybody.

After this, Netto tries to use a Battle Chip but forgets that you need a PET for that, a PET that disappears somewhere after Cross Fusion. So he decides to use the Rock Buster, but since they’re in the real world, the buster gets a super boost that sends Netto flying, with the shot leaving a hole not only on the building, but on Beastman himself.

So... I love seeing shots of Rockman’s muscular body, but when you give it to Netto it just doesn’t work for me because you know his body doesn’t look like that, making this feel out of nowhere.

Also, “Flipante”? I’m pretty sure these subs are from Spain because they use a lot of words that I’ve never heard before.

Since Beastman was maimed and mortally wounded, he runs away, the Dimensional area disappears an the episode ends with Netto back to normal with his PET reappearing again, him fainting, Rockman calling out to him worried that he might be dead, and an aerial shot of a partially destroyed Scilab.

What do I think?

Well, if you read my previous post, “The problem with Megaman NT Warrior Axess”, you already know my main issues with this season, starting with how different it was from the first one.

Like I mentioned before, Axess never aired in Latin America so it took a while for me to realized that there was another season. I got used to watching reruns of the first season over and over again because of how much I loved it, and after I watch this episode for the first time, in English, I was very, very confused at the end. I immediately felt that something was wrong, that the show was gonna be different and I wasn’t sure if it was gonna be a bad thing or a good thing. It turned out to be both because the writers couldn't settle on a tone for this new season, so I was ambivalent from beginning to end.

I’m just gonna mention the good things. The general animation is way better that the majority of the episodes in the first season, the new visuals give it a more cybernetic feel to it which goes perfectly with the theme of the show. Roll and Meiru do more in battle, even though Meiru is still the weak girl character that needs to be saved by a big strong man, ew. The new PET design and the infrared beams they use to send the Navis into the Cyberworld is much more futuristic than the cords from the previous season that are vulnerable to being cut, which, again, is very fitting to the theme, as well as the animations when inserting chips and activating P.As.

The idea of Viruses and Navis materializing in the real world is revolutionary, I just don’t like how it is set up.

The Advance PET was introduced in Battle Network 4, while Beastman appeared in Battle Network 3 as a World Three Navi and having an operator named Inukai. Here, however, Beastman is a solo Navi that is called a Darkloid, and instead of being man-made, Darkloids are portrayed as A.I beings that were spontaneously created from...Bug frags, I think? Yeah, that’s another thing I don’t buy from Axess.

The mystery Navi is Shademan who was introduced in Battle Network 4 and is in fact a solo Navi, but he was created by Dr. Regal, the other mystery character that appeared, but Shademan is also a Darkloid here.

Say what you want about Forte and Gospel, but their origins are purely man-made and make sense, and even if viruses and bug frags are also man-made, having something instantly created out of Virus remains doesn’t make sense unless a higher power is involved, which hasn’t really been specified in Axess.

If you are one of the few people who read my posts, I appreciate your support and are free to share your opinions too.

#MegaMan NT Warrior #rockman.exe axess #megaman battle network #anime #dub vs sub #spanish sub #my review #ick25

25 notes · View notes

oingos-bitch · 4 years

Text

Another JoJo Mall Fanfic™ -- Welcome to Bath & Body Works (Part 1)

Beware of Part 5 & Part 2 spoilers!

This couldn't get any more awkward.

Half an hour into the mall's grand opening and there hadn't been a single soul that so much as wandered into the shop by accident; from the way that Mr. Jonathan had described it, they had anticipated a flood of people. Yet here they all were, each subconsciously claiming a corner to stand in, hoping that at least someone, anyone would care to break the heavy silence. Ten more minutes passed and their prayers still had yet to be answered.

Caesar got to work wiping an imaginary stain on the counter, Lisa Lisa soon jumping on the bandwagon and dusting the displays, Trish and Giorno mindlessly arranging the candles by scent, then by colour. They were two hours into the day when they finally heard a pair of heels clicking across the floor and through the door. Everyone's head whipped around to greet the customer.

"Welcome to Bath and Body Works! How may I help you?"

Suzi Q. staggered backwards. "Wow, I didn't expect such a warm welcome! Thank you!"

Lisa Lisa groaned inwardly at the sight of her. Trish walked towards her. "So, what may we help you with today, ma'am?"

Lisa Lisa looked away so as not to witness her crew's reactions to her reply.

"Oh, I'm not a customer, I'm gonna be working with you guys!"

Trish's jaw dropped. "S-So you're not a customer?" She repeated.

"Afraid not, dear. I'm sorry for arriving so late, I got lost on the way! I hope there wasn't too much trouble while I was gone!"

Caesar was the first to laugh. Trish was the first to sob.

'You have no idea.'

Suzi just knelt down to comfort Trish when Lisa told her to ignore it and get ready; while the former maid was busying herself with putting on her smock, they once again noticed the sound of shoes.

"Let me guess, you're supposed to work here?" Caesar grumbled.

"Uhhh....No?"

He snapped his head up at breakneck speed to see a bewildered lady clutching a few handbags. He couldn't believe his eyes. They had a customer? They had a customer! After two painstakingly long and boring hours, they finally had a customer! He had to choke back a relieved chortle, forming his leftover grin into a kind smile.

"Ah, excuse me miss, I did not mean to say that. Now, what may I help you with today, signorina?"

Confusion gone, the lady lifted a scrap of paper up to his face.

"Uh, Miss? What may we help you with?"

"Well, you can read, can't ya? I have a coupon for 30% off o' Boardwalk Taffy Fine Fragrance Mist, an' I want exactly three o' those."

"..."

"Hel-loooo?~ Is anyone home? Get me my Boardwalk Taffy Fine Fragrance Mist."

Great. The first customer of the day just had to be one of these, God couldn't let them have a break for just one second, could he? Not even after..

Caesar froze. He didn't want to think about that anymore. This was supposed to be a new chance at life, not more torment --

He straightened up, plastered a saccharine smile onto his face, and gingerly took the coupon from the woman's hand.

"Of course, sorry about that, Ma'am. I'll go get that for you right away, feel free to shop arou-"

"Ya don't have to tell me twice." Her shoulder pushed past him as she made her way to the discounted soaps.

Poor Caesar scrunched the paper in anger. 'You barbarian motherfucker.'

He made his way to the fragrance table. Meanwhile, Trish rearranged the candles for the fourth time, unaware. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder.

The pink-haired girl turned around. "Yes, Ma'am? How may I help-"

"Save it," the lady held up a manicured hand, "I just wanna know if you have any more o' these." She waved a soap bottle in front of Trish's face.

"Uh, Miss, could you please hold the bottle still? I can't read it very well."

"Read it? Shouldn't ya have it memorized? Some wonder employees they have here." She snorted.

Trish wisely chose to stay quiet and read what she could before excusing herself and returning with a similar bottle.

"Here you are, Miss."

The woman took one look at the bottle, scrunched up her nose, threw her streaked hair over her shoulder, and jutted out her chin.

"Do I look like a Japanese Cherry Blossom kinda gal? I clearly wanted Buh-lack Cher-ry Mer-lo-uh." She slowed her words. "Japanese Cherry Blossom is for little girls who like to play dress-up and pretend they know a lick about the world of fashion and fragrance."

Her thin red lips curled up into a sour simper. "Kinda like something you'd wear."

Trish opened her mouth to speak when the customer brutishly pushed the bottle into her hands. "Here, in case ya need a reminder."

Trish exchanged a glance with Lisa Lisa as the crass woman sauntered off to another display; normally they'd say something about this sort of thing, but since this was the mall's opening and she'd most likely drop a really bad review, they decided to suck it up and spare Mr. Jonathan any heartache.

'She's headed to the counter now, anyway.'

'WAIT, THE COUNTER.'

Trish spun her head around to she who was managing the counter, hopefully it wasn't who she thinks it is --

And what do you know? It was. Giorno stood listlessly behind the register. Anyone of them could've chosen to do what is basically the most exciting job right now, and yet no one except Giorno fricking Giovanna chose to do so?! Trish winced in anticipation, everyone else had a mutual understanding of how to best deal with today's customer, but she knew for a fact that Giorno wouldn't be so merciful with her.

Thankfully she snapped out of it and went to go retrieve the soaps from the stockroom before the lady opened her mouth again. Speaking of the lady, she finally stepped up to the register. Oddly enough, she didn't treat Giorno with the same hostility as everyone else, oh no. In fact, she was outright flirting with him.

"Hello signorina, I trust that everything was to your satisfaction?"

"Well, it would be if only you could satisfy me," she winked.

Unfazed, Giorno began to scan the items she picked out. "Do you have a Loyalty Rewards account with us?"

"No, but if I'm loyal to you would you give me a reward?~"

He nodded, "Anyone who signs up for the Loyalty Rewards will get numerous specials and coupons sent right to your phone. You can sign up today for free."

Blinded by his beauty, she absentmindedly drawled out her e-mail and other information, all the while sneaking in perverse comments. Trish held back her vomit as she dropped the soaps onto the table.

"Oh, there's the soaps I was waiting on! Fine-uh-lee. Do me a favour and ring these up for me, baby cheeks?~"

On the outside Giorno skrt skrt, but on the inside he hurt hurt. He now joined Trish in the silent ritual of spiritual bonding that was holding back the hellish torrent of vomit they'd spill into the toilet after this encounter.

Words cannot describe how relieved he was when the time came for her to swipe her credit card and pay. Now he'd just need to bag up her stuff and send her on her way, hopefully never to be seen again.

If only it were that easy.

The card reader made a small, jarring ERR, startling Giorno out of his daydream. He looked at his screen, 'CARD DECLINED.'

"I'm terribly sorry, but your card seems to be declined, Madam."

"HUH?! No it sure as hell isn't, lemme see," she craned her neck to read the computer screen. She began to hastily pull a myriad of receipts and whatnot out of her purse to find her phone.

"It can't be, I swear Bernard just got paid today..." She grumbled. At last, she victoriously held up her phone and punched in Bernard's number.

"Bernard... HIIIIII, SUH-WEE-TIIIIIE!~ How are ya? Uh huh, so listen, I'm out shopping for some stuff.... Of COURSE I'm having fun, thank you ba-byyy! But, there's a little uh-oh, my card got declined for some reason! It's not your fault, I know you just got paid..."

"....Whaddaya mean it's gone??" Her face slowly morphed from shock to worry to anger.

"I TOLD you NOT TO USE THE COMPUTER WITHOUT ME. I know you're a businessman and all, but se-ri-uhs-ly, Bernard, how many times has someone stolen from your account? Do you know how EMBARRASSING that is for me?? Don't ya love me?"

The rest of the crew tried their best to look away. They busied themselves with patrolling the store, hiding in the stockroom, anything, all of them choking back laughter at the scene. Meanwhile, the customer raged on, further damaging Bernard's nearly deaf ears.

She solemnly hung up. Turning around, she calmly glanced at Giorno before furiously shoving the bag's contents onto the ground along with a slew of curses. Of course, her grand debut was not complete without her kicking a few displays, huffing on her way out.

Lisa Lisa held the phone in her hands to call security, only for Giorno to stop her and gesture to the register.

The declined card still remained in the card reader, and Lisa Lisa watched in awe as he transformed the plastic to a small butterfly. A familiar face appeared not long after.

"Have..Have any of ya seen my card?!"

"No, Miss, I'm afraid we haven't. If I remember correctly, you placed it into your wallet."

"Well... If ya say so, honey bun."

Once she was out of earshot the whole shop erupted in laughter. Caesar was the first to crack, and soon he doubled over in pain from laughing so hard, Trish following along with tears streaming down her face. After a solid ten minutes of ugly cackling they tried to compose themselves, Caesar having to sit down until he could move without hurting.

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

Lunchtime rolled around without a hitch. Caesar waved to the others, "I'm going out for lunch, anyone want anything?"

"Where to?"

"Rainforest Cafe."

Lisa Lisa snorted. "Nice. Can you get me the Spicy Stir-Fry, please?"

"Okay. Anyone else?"

"What's Rainforest Cafe?"

Lisa Lisa stared at Trish and Giorno with wide eyes. "You've never had it before? Why, it's one of the only places that even resemble gourmet at this fast-food-filled hellhole."

"But there's also a Dave & Buster's..."

The Hamon trainer dismissed them with a wave. "Go on now, both of you, and don't come back until you're educated in the world of mall cuisine."

"And I want some Daytona Beach Wings from Hooters, please!" Suzi added as the trio headed out.

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

"The Anaconda Pasta sounds promising... I suppose I'll have that."

"And I'll have the Aloha Shrimp and Salmon, please."

"And the Spicy Stir-Fry and MoJo Bones for me, thank you."

"Alright...Will that be all?"

Caesar nodded.

"Okay, your orders should be out in a bit."

Trish eyed the waiter as he walked away.

"His hat's so tall... What weird fashion..."

Giorno looked around the place as he waited. The decor was cheesy, as he expected, but the menu didn't seem all that bad. The waiters' uniforms could use a bit of work, and maybe start regulating haircuts? That short guy over there could not have a more unflattering hairdo.

'WAIT.'

Unfortunately for him, he locked eyes with the short waiter, whose mouth dropped in utter shock. Even from across the room, Giorno swore he could hear the sharp gasp and the soft thud of the waiter's pen hitting the floor. Said waiter drew his hand up to point at the blond boy.

"Y-YOU! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO STOLE MY LUGGAGE!"

#o shit i wrote something #Another Jojo Mall Fanfic #mall fanfic #mall au #stands exist #jjba fanfic #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure battle tendency #vento aureo #koichi hirose #giorno giovanna #trish una #lisa lisa #caesar zeppeli #it pained me to write that lady's dialogue #spoilers #part 2 spoilers #part 5 spoilers

3 notes · View notes

ssttitdramon · 5 years

Text

Steddie (Soft Energy)

@richiefairchild @just-another-shipper-01 @agressivebabyslug and I were at it again, tackling another underrated ship~

Eddie would go birdwatching with Stan and genuinely be interested

He asks all sorts of questions and immediately makes a mental note of which birds make Stan’s eyes light up

They’d get all excited when they finally find the bird they’ve spent hours outside for

Eddie insists on using and reapplying sunscreen and Stan just nods and listens to Eddie stress rant about skin cancer for 10 minutes

They would both listen to each other talk for hours, whether it’s birds or interesting developments in medicine

When they move in together, they keep the place organized, clean and most of all, comfortable

Super classy husbands

With lots of plants around the house, great for “clearing the air”- they don’t like the noise of an air purifier anyway

There are a few walls around the house with bird wallpaper- it looks great just trust us

They’re both sentimental and keep childhood stuff on shelves and tables

Stan framed this sweet letter Eddie wrote to him when he went of to summer camp one year

Eddie made a puzzle of the two of them together too :’)

At some point we agreed their place would look like an old person’s house, but really nice

One of them gets up early, grabs a giant blanket and migrates to the couch

The other will flop on top of them and they’ll snooze for “five more minutes” while they wait for their tea/coffee before heading off to work

Stan will play some soft jazz as they get ready and they’ll remind each other not to forget their stuff + make dinner plans

On weekends, whoever gets up first will make a huge breakfast to surprise the other- Eddie likes Stan’s pancakes and Stan likes how Eddie makes coffee

They like to slow dance together on date nights, they’ll have classical/instrumental music or sometimes Eddie’s favorite showtunes that Stan only secretly likes cause they remind him of Eddie

In fact, Eddie likes to play them while he showers and Stan will be washing the dishes and quietly sing along

“Aha! Caught ya singing to this!” -Stan will deny it forever and roll his eyes

After dinner they’ll go out for walks just to clear their head and spend quiet time with each other

If something’s up, they’ll patiently wait for the other to finally speak up and they’ll even quietly settle on their front porch swing, usually good for whenever they feel trapped inside the house and they’d like to listen to frogs and whatnot in silence

Stan is respectful and understanding of Eddie’s anxiety and fears, so he knows when Eddie just needs his presence

Sometimes they’ll lightly bicker just to amuse themselves. Plus, Eddie’s such an argumentative dude that will sometimes need to talk his energy out and Stan always goes along with it, resulting in the most weird back and forth fits

Anyone walks in as they’re going at it, they’ll hear Stan say the funniest comeback with a straight face and Eddie doing the same -it will confuse them

They’ll immediately have each other’s backs when it comes to arguing with someone else. Even if they disagree with each other they’ll still gang up on the other person- it’s intimidating, I would not recommend

They don’t do much for Valentine’s day + they’ll usually stay in for their anniversaries and spend some time together, with the exception of a camping trip every four years on their anniversary

When they do go out to eat, they like to try new stuff, or at least Stan does- he’ll walk into any place and order the first thing he sees

Meanwhile, Eddie gets dragged along so that he can “broaden his options” according to Stan. Eddie won’t admit to it, but going to new places has helped him slowly get over his food anxiety. He still can’t help but to overanalyze the menu and will have Stan ask about certain ingredients

At restaurants, if one of them did not get their order right, the other will immediately let the waiter know and ask for the right order

“Send this back please. He did not want the pickles.”

Afterwards, “Eddie, you’re not allergic. You just hate them, don’t you?”

“I could be allergic. Are you accusing me of lying, Stanley?”

“Me? Accusing you, my dear husband? Never!”

When they go camping on their anniversary, it’s usually a new place every time as well. Eddie gets anxious and was reluctant to go the first time, but seeing Stan’s eyes shine as he plans out their weekend and the peaceful look on his face during their trip makes it all worth it

They’re like kids again once they’re out in nature, Stan’s got his eyes on the trees and Eddie’s back to asking questions about everything- nearly scares off the birds

Stan’s likes to tease Eddie about being shorter when there’s only one (1) inch of a difference

Stan doesn’t like pet names for himself, especially not the typical babe/baby stuff, but sometimes Eddie will slip “love” here and there and Stan feels all warm inside and nearly combusts… 😳 this is fine 💕

Stan is a little shit that likes to see Eddie get flustered, so when he sees Eddie get ready he’ll have a huge smirk and will start calling him handsome- shameless flirting and compliments just to make him blush

Eddie swore up and down he was allergic to peanuts, but one day he just ate one and he came out Okay and Alive. Stan always brings it up whenever Eddie is being stubborn about trying something new. So, one night as they’re talking and falling asleep, Stan whispers “Good night, Peanut” and Eddie nearly melts

The only other solid pet name they have for each other is Veery, the name of a forest thrush that stuck in Eddie’s head during a camping trip and would continuously repeat it to himself. Throughout the trip, they’d refer to each other as Veery only.

They are totally soft uncles when it comes to Ben and Beverly’s kids and compete against Bill and Richie to be the kids’ favorite uncles

Always reassure Bev that her kids will be much more safe with them than they are with Bill and Richie

And they are!

Initially, Eddie was a bit awkward about it, but eventually he warms up to them and doesn’t mind answering their billion questions

Stan is excited from the start, he likes to listen to the kids talk about their cool interests and every time they come over they bake something new together

Yes, they go wild with frosting

Trust me, all four of them, Bill + Richie and Stan + Eddie, will spoil the hell outta those kids

Beverly sees right through them, “They’re just using you to get stuff, they only say you two are the favorites cause they wanna go to the movies this weekend.”

Neither of them care

“Richie, stop spoiling them.”

“Ah, so Stan sent you, hm? Well, tell that sucker- Bill and I are taking them to Dave and Busters tomorrow.”

Ben and Bev’s babysitter decision making boils down to “Sugary uncles or chaotic uncles?”

They decide to hand them over to Mike this weekend. He’ll take them around his farm, let them feed the goats, cook a big meal for them and read them stories

Once the kids are back to their usual two sets of uncles, they claim Mike as the ultimate favorite uncle

They’re all hurt and will send a flow of salty texts in the groupchat

Mike is super humble about it, but the other four are pissed

“All those times we took them out for laser tag and ice cream… and they pick MICHAEL?”

Any time the kids ask either of the four for something at the next gathering, they just say “Why don’t ya ask your favorite uncle?😪”

Mike finds this funny and he’s lowkey proud he’s got them all ticked off over the opinions of kids

#stanley uris #eddie kaspbrak #stan x eddie #steddie #it 2017 #big braincell time #this one was def a favorite of mine

28 notes · View notes

blessedbucky · 5 years

Note

Spotify no. 24 pls :)))

ASDKJALFJSKDFJ SO I TOTALLY THOUGHT THIS ASK WAS SENT TO MY OC STORY BLOG SO GUESS WHAT NONNY YOU GET A GREAT SONG AND SOME WRITING!

24. Love Like There’s No Tomorrow by The War and Treaty

Lovin’ every night and day

Lovin’ all our troubles away

We gon’ love like there’s no tomorrow

When he wakes up, sweat soaks his skin and the sheets. His throat isn’t sore, though, and he can hear Steve snoring in the nursery. He must’ve had a nightmare, too. Woke up in the middle of the night and went to work himself to sleep building the crib. Maybe scratching an outline of a mural on the walls. Bucky didn’t scream which says a lot about how much he’s healed here. It was that dream. It’s been the only dream that’s still guaranteed to make him scream. Well, not anymore, thank God.

Quinn is propped up on an elbow, hand pressed to his bare chest, face pinched in worry. He takes a deep breath, closes hie eyes, slides his metal hand over his, and uses that to ground himself. He has to use the metal hand because it’s a gamble, touching her hand that will be cooler than he’s used to. A reminder that this is both Quinn and not Quinn. The serum hasn’t fully kicked in. They can tell that it’s started to happen. Her body temperature slowly climbs as time passes by, the biggest indicator since she’s not actively in battle anymore.

“Bad dream?” Quinn asks like it’s not completely obvious.

“Worst one,” he answers, voice cracking. He forces his body to relax back into the sheets. Quinn shifts away from him and he opens his eyes to watch her carefully turn over and reach out to turn the lamp on. She won’t sleep until they’re both back in bed with her. She doesn’t say it, but he knows she’s still terrified of the Quiet. It was a fear she never could shake. “Sorry I woke you, baby doll.”

She smiles a little, but her eyes are tight with worry. “Call me that while you can, buster.” She’s picked up on what helps them best. She moves his hand down to her stomach that’s starting to swell. “Because pretty soon, we’ll have an actual baby doll.”

“No, that’s my baby.” His expression softens as his heart swells. She’s here. He and Steve are here. They have a baby on the way. This is all they wanted and she reminds him of that. “And you’ll always be my baby doll.”

Quinn stares at him, steel blue eyes unreadable now. She reaches up to gently press her thumb at the corner of an eye. He and Steve are older now. In more ways than she can think. It bothers her, from time to time. No, not that. Not exactly. It reminds her of what they did and that’s what really bothers her.

“Can you tell me about the dream?” Quinn finally asks, so timid it breaks his heart. She’s tense and he hates that he’s made her scared. “I’ve heard things, y’know. I…I hear y’all…when you think I can’t. I know…there’s butterflies?” He shudders and her grip on him tightens, like she’s afraid he’ll run off on her. “It’s about me, isn’t it? About…the other me?”

Bucky takes a deep breath, releases, and then wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her down. She puts her head on his chest and he runs his hands through her hair when he answers, “Yes and no.” He pauses. He and Steve swore not to talk about this with her, but it kills her more not knowing. It’s putting a wedge between them and her, but Steve doesn’t want to admit it. “It’s how all dreams are, y’know. A weird mix of a bunch of shit.” She hums in acknowledgement. “But, yeah, it’s—it’s you and me, dancing. You, me, and the baby,” he corrects. Briefly touches her belly again to mean she’s pregnant in the dream. “There’s this…swarm of butterflies. I can’t see you, but I’m still holding your hand, and when I pull you back, I’ve got a knife in your heart.” She doesn’t need to know what’s real and what’s not. The butterflies, his knife being plunged into her heart—that happened.

“Can I tell you something? And promise you won’t be mad?” Quinn tilts her head so she’s peering up at him. He nods silently. “Sometimes, I wish I’d thrown myself off a cliff after you two died.” He stays quiet because, honestly, it’s a thought he’s indulged in more than once. Here and in the future. “There wouldn’t be anymore pain for any of us, y’know. I mean, an ache. A hole. Cracked souls, but…I lived with it—“ she cuts herself off and flushes.

“But we couldn’t live with it,” he says cheekily. He isn’t mad. It’s true. “That’s the reason we’re all here, remember?”

She turns her head away, toward the wall, and admits, “I don’t know if I’m worth all this, Bucky.” Familiar fucking words. He had said the same exact thing to her, seventy years in a future he’s not sure exists anymore.

“You are, Quinn. You really are.” A tear rolls down her cheek and he wipes it away with a stroke of his thumb. “C’mere,” he demands softly. She does what he asks and moves up until her face hovers over his. He takes her cheeks in his hands, wiping away each tear that falls. “The truth is that we could’ve lived without you, but what kind of life would’ve that been? That’s what we asked ourselves. It wouldn’t be much of one. Life is give and take, but ours? In the future? It kept taking and taking and it finally took you. We did what we needed. We made the world as right as it could be. We left people behind—good people—that we knew would keep the world safe. They’ll be fine without us, okay?”

“And what about if this world needs us?” This is why they don’t like to talk about where they came from. This is a question they hoped she would never ask. Because Steve and Bucky decided to be selfish. They don’t care what happens to any world, so long as Quinn and their little family is safe. But Quinn dies for the world and she’ll hate them if she knows they stopped caring about doing the right thing a long time ago.

“That’ll be up to you,” Bucky answers. At first, he thinks it’s a lie to pacify her, but he realizes it’s the truth. Not only are he and Steve not the men to make her bow down and submit, she wouldn’t do it, anyway. “We’re the ones following you now.” She closes her eyes and leans her cheek further into one of his hands. “For right now, let’s focus on here and now. Don’t think about the future because it won’t ever be the same as it was before, not after what we’ve done.” Gently, he pulls her down again and presses a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “We love each other. I love you more than the universe.”

“For now,” she grumbles. “Until the baby is born. Then, you’ll kick me to the curb.”

“If I’m kicking anyone out of the house, it’ll be Steve so I have you all to myself. Then, I can make as many chubby, little babies as I want with you.”

Quinn ducks her head and giggles quietly. There’s a grin on her lips. The world is exactly as it should be.

#OOPS #just gonna reblog this on my story blog now.....#not the standard unit series #my writing

13 notes · View notes

sweets-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Retribution 1

Title: A new day

Wordcount: 3448

Warnings: Death, Violence and Micah

Summary: Josephine Espinosa is a young adult that runs a gang of outlaws.(in fact shes the youngest in her gang) She used to be a sharpshooter for the Del Lobo gang in New Austin but now she's out for revenge when the leader of Del Lobo killed her father and husband. Now with her new gang, she makes Del Lobo and other gangs live a living hell in any way she can. The only gang her and her posse have yet to piss off is the Van Der Linde gang. And even though Arthur knows she lost her husband a little over a year ago he can't help but like and enjoy everything about her. Even if she sees them as just friends.

AN: Here is a fic about my RDO Oc Josie. Her and her posse like to get into sheningins despite her dark past, So I hope you enjoy.

Tags: Let me know if you wanna be tagged.

_______________

“Oi, You said the coach would be here.” Irish groaned from his hiding spot. I tried my best to ignore it but Hair had to voice her opinion.

“Oh shut up. It’ll be here. My sources are never wrong.” She mumbles the last bit more to herself but everyone still hears her.

“I’m pretty sure you said that for the last job you were in charge of too…” Jenessa rolls her eyes. I was honestly a bit surprised she voiced her opinion instead of staying quiet with me.

“Ya, Why are you part of this gang if all ya information is shiet? I agree with this random lady. Who are you anyway?”

“Oh dear lord, shut up.” I snap, “Sometimes sources are wrong. Irish you literally just sit at camp and do nothing until I call on you.”

“Well…. Someone has to guard camp…”

“That’s Cripps and Buster’s job.”

“Buster is a feckin’ dog!”

“Shut up it’s coming…” I groan as I spot the coach.

Thankfully, everyone shuts up and crouches lower as it approaches and pulls our bandanas over our faces. I could see it had two riders one their horses on either side. As it neared us I noticed the two riders fall off their horse.

“Uh…” I begin as suddenly a voice is heard near me.

“Alright, gentlemen…” An oh-too familiar man walks up to the coach with guns drawn. He’s back up by two broad looking men and I have to force down my eye roll. “How about you show me and my friends what you fine men are carrying today.” Dutch Van Der Linde smirks.

“Hey!” I stand up despite Jenessa trying to pull me back. “This was our job. I know you assholes probably saw us.”

The coach drivers seem like they’re about to have heart attacks as they see two gangs bicker over who’s going to rob them.

“Miss Espinosa maybe it ain’t the best time…”

“Shut it, Morgan. Alden gave us this information.”

“How funny, Alden gave us this tip too.” Dutch smirks with his pistol still pointed at the driver. “Miss Espinosa, how about you and your…” He glances back at my gang, “Posse join us at our camp tonight. We’ll be celebrating our great haul today.”

I can tell he’s trying to be a gentleman but I don’t fall for that shit. Jennessa walks up and places the goods from the coach in my hands as I smile sweetly towards the men. “Thank you for the invite. We’ll arrive at nightfall for the celebration of our haul.”

Dutch’s smirk dropped and he looked back at Arthur and I believe Charles as they tried not to laugh. “Hey now, you can’t do that.” Dutch stammers as I whistle for Willa.

“I just did Mr. Van Der Linde. We’ll see you at your party tonight, you’re still near Blackwater?”

“Yup, we’re there.” Arthur smiles and waves towards my gang.

“Thank you!” I call one last time before we ride off leaving Dutch very annoyed.

___________

As we ride into camp Cripps doesn’t look up from his work but we are greeted by an eager Buster.

“Hola perrito, mi amor.” I smother him with kisses as Cripps cringes.

“I don’t know how you pet that thing.” He grumbles.

“We got the stuff,” I say to change his mind.

“Oh great, maybe I can get some real food for us.”

I roll my eyes and walk up to an unexpected guest grabbing a bowl of stew. “What are you doing here Jerry?”

“Josephine! I’ve returned!”

“From where? Hiding from the job we just did?”

He acts shocked as Irish walks by rolling his eyes. “I would never! I had an engagement in Saint Denise.”

“Buying more clothing is not an ‘engagement’ sir. If you aren’t dedicated to this gang I may have to let you go.” Jerry’s shock becomes real as Jen walks up and hands me my cut. “Make sure to put some in the camps fund,” You glance at Jerry, “Don’t give him any. He’s gotta learn.”

Jerry pouts and puts his hands on his hips. “I… I’m technically your senior.”

“Being old is the only thing you have on me Mr. B, we are going to a gang’s camp tonight to rub in their face that I won today. So you can join, or disappear again. Your choice.” I

smile sweetly before walking to my tent.

I lay on my cot and groan as I hear someone walk up. “What!” I say a little louder than I meant.

“I’m leaving,” Jen says, leaning against the post.

I sit up and look at her. “Again? Where?”

She shrugs and stands up straight, “I’m going to go get some stuff for the camp.”

“You are one of the only helpful people in this gang… aside from maybe Hair. So, yeah, go but don’t be too far. I know you’re just doing it to get out of tonight.” Jen gives me no emotion what so ever but nods and leaves towards her horse. “Have a safe trip.”

She raises her hand and waves without turning around towards me.

“Is this a bad time?” Irish asks.

“Yes. It’s quiet time.” I groan and lay back on my cot.

“I just wanted to say ya got a letter.”

I don’t get up and keep my back to him. “Uh… Sorry Irish, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m tired. Can you leave it side table there? I’ll check it after I rest.”

“Sure.”

I hear him place down the letter and walk away. I let out a long sigh. I didn’t really want to read the letter. Just in case it was bad news. I wasn’t ready to lose anyone else. And Manny’s health wasn’t doing well in the last letter my mother had sent.

I hear Buster whine at the side of my cot. I take him as a sign of encouragement and get up and walk to the letter. It’s a bit bigger than the last one. When I pick it up I notice that something thicker than normal paper is in it.

I glance at the letter first;

Dear Daughter,

It was so good to hear from you. Your gang sounds like an… interesting bunch of outlaws. And it sounds like you are doing the lords work, trying to taking out the rest of Del Lobo. Though, I have never condoned revenge.

You’re boys ask about you daily. Little Artie is talking more than Manny. Manny has been getting slightly better now that we can buy proper medicine. I hope once he is well you are able to come home.

I love you Mija but know revenge isn’t always the way to go.

I await your next letter.

-love your mother

I let out a sigh of relief at the mention of Manny’s improvement. I glance under the letter and see a photograph of my two little boys. Now two, they still looked exactly alike (duh, twins) but Artie had on small glasses. I had wondered why they suddenly needed extra money. They both looked so much like their father that I had to put the photo in my bag so I wouldn’t begin to cry.

________________________

At the Van Der Linde camp, the day was not doing very well.

“I can’t believe you let a kid take the money.” Micah groaned again, “And Josephine of all people. I ran with her for a bit ya know.”

“I heard you ‘ran’ with her for a week before she kicked your ass out for being an idiot.” Arthur chuckled.

“Women giving orders isn’t a good thing. They start thinking they have rights and shit.”

“I heard she threatened to shoot you and you ran with your tail between your legs,” Lenny adds.

“I heard that as well, thank you, Lenny.” Arthur smiled.

Before Micah had a chance to respond horses riding into camp put everyone on alarm until they noticed who it was. Josie hopped off her horse and pulled off a crate that was attached to Irish’s horse.

“¡Hola! I bring gifts.” She puts on the table and smiles and a few of her members place down more. “I felt a tiny bit bad about taking today’s prize. Even if it was mine, to begin with.”

“Miss Espinosa, I honestly didn’t think you’d join us,” Dutch says exiting his tent. “What did you bring?”

“I bring a peace offering of Moonshine from out speakeasy, which you will still never be told where it is. But my guy there made extra so I brought it.” Josie smirked. She knew Dutch had been wanting at her business for a while. But he hadn’t been so lucky as to get more than just tastes like this.

“Well then, I guess we are indeed having a party tonight.” Dutch sighs. “Everyone, Josie and her gang are guests tonight! Let’s show them a good time.” He turns to Josie with a grin, “Is moonshine the only thing you all brought tonight?”

“Of course not!” Irish speaks up, “We brought our amazing personalities.” The girl Hair rolls her eyes as Irish takes a long swig of the moonshine. Arthur always kinda loved Irish’s thick accent. He used to be an O’Driscoll before they kicked him out and tried to kill him for being ‘too Irish.’ Josephine had shown up when they were trying to beat him to death and saved him. Josie says he can be annoying at times but when the time comes he always has her back.

Arthur notices another older man placing down more moonshine. His name is Jerry B. Josephine won’t say his last name because she says she’s pretty sure it’s fake and won’t give him the satisfaction of saying it. She’s told Arthur how he tends to be a lot like Trelawny, minus magic tricks, and being helpful.

Hair walks up and hands Arthur a jug of moonshine. “Josie said to help pass these out.” She mumbles before walking away. Hair was Mexican and native. She had dark skin and unruly curly hair which she refused to ever comb. Arthur saw it combed once and was later told it was because Josie had Jen hold her down so she could comb it.

Josie walks up to Arthur and smirks. “Hello, Mr. Morgan.”

“Miss Espinosa, how are you?” He asks as he takes a swig.

“I’m very well, we made over a thousand today.” He smiles and lets her have her moment. He knows how she tends to get a little competitive, though she’ll never admit it. Though both their gangs don’t know the two of them tend to hunt together. Charles accompanies them once in a while, but it’s mostly just the two of them.

“Damn. How much you keepin’?”

“None. I’m sending anything I made to my boys. It’s their birthday coming up.”

“Why don’t you go visit?” Arthur is already feeling the moonshine. He had forgotten how fast Josie’s liquor hits.

“Ah, I want to. But New Mexico is so far. And… I’m afraid Irish will kill Cripps if I leave them alone for too long.” Josie looks at her feet and sighs.

“Well, ask Jen. I’m sure she’d help. She’s pretty loyal to ya.”

“Not sure why to be honest.”

Arthur pats her shoulder, “Now why would you say that?”

She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow, “I’m eighteen. I’m the youngest in my gang and somehow in charge.”

Arthur shrugs what Josie said off and smiles, “You gotta caring heart for an outlaw. It makes people follow ya.” Josie eyes Dutch confused as he’s dancing with an already drunk Molly. Arthur catches on and laughs, “Dutch ain’t too bad.”

She glances at him in disbelief, “When was the last time you all did your ‘steal from the rich to give to the poor’ shit?”

“Alright, you got me there.”

“I’ll think about goin’ to visit though. Thank you, Arthur.” Josie smiles at him before walking to the rest of the party.

_______________

I sit down at the fire near Javier as he sings songs in Spanish. “Aye! Josie, sing with him.” Sean yells from his spot next to Irish.

“You think cause it’s Spanish I know it?” Sean doesn’t reply. Just smirks as he takes a drink. “Okay, so I do, but I’m not going to sing. I can’t.”

“No, she can sing! She sings to her damn dog all the time, she does!” Irish slurs.

“That damn mutt is still alive?” Micah groans.

“Do you just have to ruin every gathering?” I ask with a smirk. “Lighten up, you grumpy ass. It’s a party.”

As the night goes on I find myself with Abigail as she puts Jack to bed. She tells me about the joys (sarcasm) of a three-year-old.

“I hope I’m able to be back to them by that age.”

She glances at me and gives me a sad smile. “Have you taken time to grieve?”

Her question throws me off a bit. It had been almost a year since Pedro and my father were killed. I remember sort of crying after it happened. But at the time my first thought was getting my mother and boys to my mother-in-law in New Mexico. “I probably did.”

I can hear her huff a laugh, “Josephine, I don’t think ‘probably’ means you did.” She places a hand on my shoulder, “It’s okay to cry. Even if you’re a bad and tough outlaw.”

“I’ll let it all go one day, I got too much work today first.”

“Well, even if you are part of another gang. I’ll always help ya out if you wanna talk to someone.”

“Thank you, Miss Roberts. John behaving?”

“God, don’t even start.” She sighs and walks away from me leaving me with a smirk.

______________

“Irish.” I kicked his side. He had been passed out on the ground for a good ten minutes. “Let’s go home. We overstayed our welcome.”

“Camp is so far though.” He mumbles before passing out again. I had to get back to camp but as I looked around all three of my partners were passed out somewhere.

Mr. Matthews sat at a table reading near a candle. “Mr. Matthews, may I leave my idiots here for the night? I have to get back to my camp.”

“Of course, don’t worry about them. We’ll send them home once they wake up tomorrow.” He lights his pipe and sets his book down. “How has your… mission been? Arthur tells me you took out two entire factions of the Del Lobo last week.”

“They’re like the O’Driscols. They just have more and more men. I have to take out Alfredo if I’m ever to make a dent in them.”

He thinks for a moment before glancing back at me, “Talk to Marshal Tom Davies.”

“Wait, how do you know a marshal?”

“New Austin runs a bit different than up north. He’s gotten me out of a few close calls.”

“New Austin scares me a bit,” I admit out loud making him chuckle.

“I’ll let him know you might need his help. He’s been going after that gang for a long time so he might enjoy some… unorthodox ideas.”

I nod a bit in agreement before smiling, “Thank you, Mr. Matthews.” I dig around in my bag before finding my money. I take out fifty and hand it to him. “For your troubles with my people.”

He gladly accepts it and slips it in his pocket. “You ride safe now.”

“Always.”

______________________

(all conversation is in Spanish I just am not ready for translating)

“¡Mija!” My father says as he shakes my shoulder. Pedro quickly reaches for his pistol before realizing who it is. “We have to go.”

“Why?” I ask rubbing my eyes.

“I shot at them.” He says hurriedly as he throws our clothes into a suitcase.

“What? Papa, what do you mean?” He doesn’t answer but puts my guns across my shoulders and starts putting my gun belt on for me.

“Grab the boys. All of us must leave tonight.”

Pedro and I share glances as we each grab a boy from their bed. “Pedro, hold my guns. I’ll wrap them on my back.”

“Yes, my love.” He says as he shifts Manny to one hand and holds on to my guns. I quickly get both six-month-olds comfortable and wrapped on my back. Pedro holds on to my rifle but I grab his sawed-off just to have some sort of protection.

“Now Papa, please tell me what happened.”

“I shot one of Alfredo’s men.”

“Why?” He and my mother grab a suitcase and he shushes me before opening the door to our hut in Thieves Landing. I slip on my shoes and wish I had put on pants. Del Lobo’s did not like women wearing pants for some reason.

“We must be quiet, I will explain it all later-”

“Ah! Arturo! Why don’t we have a chat.” Alfredo says as he and some men step out from the shadows. All of us are grabbed and dragged into the middle of the community. “Josephine. Do you know why you are here right now?”

“I don’t…” I mumble.

“Well, I found out that you all wanted to leave. So when I told your father no he shot one of my best men.” I shut my eyes in disappointment. My father always had an anger problem. It’s probably where I got it. “Now. I get it. You and Pedro are parents now. But, you especially know way too much. And I can’t lose my best rifleman… er, woman, I guess.” The whole time Alfredo is ranting he’s walking back and forth between us with a gun in his hand. “What do you think I should do, Josephine?”

I open my mouth to answer or beg but before I can say anything he fires his gun and my father’s body goes limp next to me. My mother cries and reaches for his body but Alfredo stops her, “Do not move!” I can feel the boys starting to wake up on my back. I glance at my father’s body and see the bullet hole in his forehead. I’m trying my best not to ob but I can feel the tears.

“Head for a head, yeah?” He jokes to his men who all laugh. “He only killed one man, but maybe I should kill two of you…”

He glanced at my mother who was still sobbing with her face into the ground. “No!” I speak up turning his gaze to me. “Let her go with my sons. You can shoot me.”

“Josephine…” Pedro begins next to me.

“Shut up Pedro. She’s an old lady, Just let her and my boys go. You can shoot me.”

Alfredo did not expect me to offer myself. “Kill my best shooter? I would never forgive myself.”

He turns away to pretend to choose. Pedro and I both eye the sawed-off in the dirt in front of us. We look at each other and he gives me a sad smile and mouths for me to run as he reaches forward and fires at Alfredo.

Alfredo ducks but his arm still gets hit and the chaos begins. I lunge over my father’s body and grab my mother’s arm. “Mama let’s go!” I yell as the gunfire starts. Pedro tosses me the sawed-off and pulls out the pistol he had hidden as we begin shooting our way out.

We somehow make it to the entrance of the camp and I whistle for Willa as Pedro whistles for his horse. As we wait I begin shooting at lanterns and starting as many fires as possible as the rain begins to fall. As soon as she’s close I push my mom on to her and turn to check on Pedro. As I do the world seems to slow down as I see him standing still with Alfredo holding a gun in his face.

I reach for my pistol but I’m not fast enough. Alfredo says something that I can’t hear to Pedro and then fires into his head. I scream and begin firing wildly towards Alfredo. The three men around him drop but I sadly miss him. My whole world seemed to be crashing but at that moment I didn’t care until I heard small cries on my back and I was brought back.

Alfredo is aiming a gun at me but I shoot it out of his hands as my mom yells at me to hurry. With tears blinding me I somehow make it on to Willa and we take off leaving everything we know behind in the flames.

____________

Let me know what ya’ll think!

#rdr2 #rdr #rdr2 fanfic #rdo #rdo oc #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x female oc #arthur morgan (father)#AO3 fanfic #ao3 #Dutch Van Der Linde #hosea mathews #Micah Bell #r*#red dead redemption 2

3 notes · View notes

vagrantblvrd · 5 years

Text

Complications (1/1)

Summary: The Vagabond has his phone.

Notes: Working on clearing out my WIP folder and found this which is a missing scene from A Better Place to Land based on an exchange with @miss-ingno. XD

(Read on AO3)

The Vagabond has his phone.

It’s...Gavin doesn’t know what it is, because it’s not as thought he could just make a phone call what with being tied up as he is. (Tied up, caught. In a bind, a pickle, all those lovely little sayings and turns of phrase that add up to trouble of the worst sort.)

Gavin is bored, though.

Hours of staring at blank walls and nothing to let him know what it is the Fakes want from him. (Everyone wants something in this city, and you don’t go abducting someone if you don’t think you can get your money’s worth out of them.)

He enjoyed the oh-so-charming company of Rimmy-whatsit until he was called away for some bit of business and the Vagabond had taken his place.

Waltzed on in pretty as you please and leaned up against the wall in front of Gavin to pull Gavin’s own phone out of his jacket pocket. And then he had the nerve to set to work trying to unlock it.

Puzzling away at it like it’s the daily crossword, an occasional hmph or huh or hmm to go along with the whole production as though Gavin’s not right there in agony over how terrible a job the man’s doing. (He’s been at it for absolute ages tap-tap-tapping away and no sign of progress to be seen!)

He doesn’t stalk over after failing to crack Gavin’s password for some length of time. Doesn’t loom or threaten or anything Gavin was expecting out of him. He’s not even looking at Gavin, focus on Gavin’s phone and the oh so challenging...challenge of unlocking it.

It feels less like mockery at this point and closer to gloating over the fact they’ve caught Gavin when everyone else in this godforsaken city hasn’t.

It’s just…Gavin doesn’t even know, and that’s even more maddening.

Gavin’s about to offer a hint, bit of a suggestion to help the man out when his phone rings.

It rings.

The Vagabond cocks his head, thumb hovering above the screen. Slowly looks at Gavin.

Gavin, for his part, is frozen in the chair.

Blood gone cold and all that because -

Gavin isn’t the sort to assign unique ringtones to his phone contacts. Doesn’t see the point, but as with anything there are exceptions.

“Queen fan?” the Vagabond asks, so bloody amused because he doesn’t know and now Gavin’s really in trouble, isn’t he, if this contact is calling him.

Finds out the spot of trouble Gavin’s gotten himself into this time and Gavin almost wishes the Fakes had killed him.

“Er,” Gavin manages, voice gone a little croaky on him. “Best not answer that.”

Still a chance he can slip this past them and all, if the bastard lets it go to voicemail. Convince them he misplaced is phone or some such afterwards, assuming he’s still alive by then. (Slim chance, but all Gavin has at the moment.)

Gavin’s not that lucky though, is he?

First he can’t avoid getting caught, and second, the Vagabond really is the bastard the rumors make him out to be because he chuckles.

This quiet little thing, still so damn amused as though Gavin’s obvious dread is just that entertaining – and he answers the damn phone.

Has been playing Gavin for a fool because he just taps in the password easy as anything and unlocks it to answer the phone.

“Hello?” he says, perfectly polite in a too-bright tone of voice.

Retail Voice, Gavin thinks dimly, reminded of his own he’d adopted years ago now, long before he threw himself into this terrible life of his.

Gavin can’t see the Vagabond’s grin under the mask of his, but he’s certain the smug bastard is enjoying Gavin’s clear discomfort over the call. Laughing his little black heart out as he watches Gavin squirm -

Until he isn’t.

Goes stone-cold still, doesn’t he. Frozen to the spot and all that out of shock or something close enough to it anyway.

It’s hard to be certain with the mask and wonky lighting, but Gavin’s swears the Vagabond’s eyes widen.

Which, given who’s on the other end of the phone call isn’t that shocking.

“...Meg?” he asks, stunned, surprised.

Clearly not expecting this turn of events.

Gavin – Gavin would like to know how the bastard knows Meg, but given their line of work it’s not too difficult to guess. (Small world, for people as skilled as them. Of course their paths would cross at some point.)

Gavin refocuses his attention on getting out of his bonds because there’s no way Meg hasn’t guessed something is wrong. Hasn’t figured out Gavin’s gone and gotten himself into the trouble she warned him about, so.

Yes.

He listens with half an ear to the Vagabond’s side of things as the man shakes himself out of his initial surprise and holds a conversation with Meg. Voice rising and falling, exasperation accompanied by hand gestures he glimpses from the corner of his eye.

“Do you mind?”

Short, sharp bark of the Vagabond’s voice has Gavin giving the man an incredulous look.

Not to be rude, but he’d rather take his chances with the Vagabond and the rest of the Fakes than face Meg’s wrath and all that. (Safer, too.)

He’s got one hand free of the ropes and is working at undoing the knot on the other and close to freedom (escape) and the damned Vagabond expects him to stop just because he says so? (And so rudely too.)

“Well, I mean,” Gavin says, trying for a pleasant little smile. Wouldn’t want to bother the nice Vagabond while he’s on the phone and all, be a nuisance. “You’re a bit busy, I thought I might make myself scarce to give you some privacy?”

That nets him a disbelieving look from the Vagabond, followed by a frown as he tips his head closer to the phone.

Meg, and oh dear God, Gavin is surely dead this time. All the good-will he’s built up with her smashed to smithereens thanks to his idiocy.

“She wants to talk to you,” the Vagabond says, calculating look in his eye as he walks over and takes in the results of Gavin’s escape-in-progress.

Gavin eyes him. The phone in his hand. Looks down at the tangle of his bonds he’s still working his way free of.

“...I’d rather not?” he says. “Bit tied up at the moment.”

He hadn’t meant to make a joke of it, but he’s not at his best.

The Vagabond growls, shoving the phone at Gavin and Gavin...Gavin sighs because it seems as though there’s no escaping his fate.

Takes the phone with his free hand and smiles as he answers. Uses that to help get his cheer on as he greets Meg.

“Ah, hello, Turney,” he says, and winces because that was not the best route to take. “Er. Meg.”

There’s silence, edged with razor blades, and then a very put upon sigh from Meg.

“Hello, Gavin, she says, bright and bubbly. “How are you this fine day?”

Oh, that’s not good at all, is it?

There’s a specific edge to Meg’s voice, this what did you do now? that doesn’t bode well for him the next time they happen to meet.

Speaking of -

“Are you at the airport?” Gavin asks, straining to hear a voice in the background that sound suspiciously like a boarding announcement. “I thought you were on a job?”

Meg hmms, and Gavin can imagine the expression on her face at the moment.

“I was,” she says, twittering little laugh because she’s in public and can’t lecture him the way she so clearly wants to. “But them Mariel sent along an interesting tidbit of information about things in Los Santos and I finished things up here early.”

Gavin frowns, eyes flicking up to see the Vagabond watching him. Curious tilt to his head and this...it’s not amusement to him anymore, but something else Gavin can’t quite place.

“Ah,” Gavin says. “I see.”

Meg is silent, waiting for Gavin’s confession which is bad. Means she’s well and truly annoyed with him, tipping towards angry.

“Well,” he says, and doesn’t know how to continue, or even if he should since he’d just be digging the hole he’s found himself in deeper. “Yes.”

The Vagabond snorts, having moved on from mild curiosity and back to amusment.

“You know, love,” Gavin says, because the man has been nothing but irritating about this development. “I’m sure the Vagabond could tell the story far better than I could.”

The part where they caught up to him, at least. Everything else Meg will squeeze out of Gavin himself when she gets back to Los Santos. (Which going by the boarding announcements being made, will be soon enough.)

Meg hmms again, that thread of oh, you are in for it buster not directed at Gavin this time, which is a good sign.

“Play nice until I get there,” she instructs, tone brooking no argument. “And put him on the phone.”

Well, it’s not as though Gavin had much choice in the matter anyway, but the thought of her rushing back to Los Santos to save him from himself is reassuring.

“Of course,” he says, and the smile that tugs at his mouth feels genuine. “Have a safe flight, love.”

He’s laying it on thick, but he’s also learned it’s one of the best ways to soothe her frayed temper. (Oh, she knows what he’s doing, but seeing as she allows it she can’t be that bothered.)

“Charmer,” she murmurs fondly.

Gavin laughs, looking up to find the Vagabond still watching him – bit creepy that.

“She’d like to have a few words,” he says, and laughs again at the way the man’s eyes narrow behind his mask, gaze darting to the phone Gavin’s holding out to him like it’s a venomous snake. “Quickly now, she has a flight to catch.”

He gets another little growl for that, and then the Vagabond’s plucking the phone out of his hand and turning his back to Gavin to talk to Meg.

Gavin glances down at his bonds, half undone and sighs to himself.

All that work of getting himself loose (half-loose?) and for naught, since Meg seems to think it’s a better choice to go along with whatever the Fakes want with him than escape their clutches.

The Vagabond makes this – he whines like a child denied a treat – and glances over his shoulder at Gavin – but then he goes quiet.

Nods his head along to whatever Meg’s telling him and sighs, as though she’s asking something inexpressibly terrible of him.

“Fine,” he mutters sulkily. “No killing.”

He's still looking at Gavin, something accusatory about it now, like this is all Gavin’s fault. (Which. Not entirely wrong.)

Several minutes go by with the Vagabond making these little noises of agreement and capitulation before he hangs up, wishing Meg a safe flight as well, and then he just.

Stares at Gavin.

Puzzling through the hows and whys of how in the hell Gavin met someone like Meg, let alone counted among the select group of people Meg’s fond of. (Enough to speed up her schedule, risk botching a job for.)

Gavin’s aware his association with Meg will complicate matters once the Fakes get around to whatever they plan to do with him, but that’s not his problem, is it? He didn’t ask to be abducted and carted off to this bland little hidey spot of theirs, after all.

“Well then,” Gavin says, not sure what else to say. “I did tell you not to answer.”

#ragehappy #A Better Place to Land #vagrant fic

23 notes · View notes