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kohanayaki · 2 years

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.:Survive the Tide:. (Eddie Munson x Reader) Ch 2

You and Eddie inevitably grow closer over the next few months after agreeing see one of his shows at the Hideout. Things seem to be looking up, until you hear the sound of police sirens racing past your house and make the mistake of turning on the news.

LINKS: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

___________________________________________________

Ch 2 .:When the World Comes Crashing Down:.

You cursed silently as you passed classroom after classroom, heading straight for the second floor hallway. Of course, the one time you agree to pick them up on a work night they forget.

As you approached the old theater room you could hear voices muffled through the door, becoming clearer as you walked up to it.

“. . . a dull booming in the distance. Echoing, roaring like thunder, and seemingly closer by the second.”

You stopped as you recognized Eddie's voice, purposefully deepened and exaggerated for the narration. Even though you were rushed and irritated, the sheer enthusiasm in his voice made you crack a smile. You quietly opened the door open to see all the members of the Hellfire Club gathered around a long table with Eddie at the head. Everyone was leaned in, listening so intently that no one even noticed you step inside the room.

“You realize too late that this is no natural disaster,” Eddie continued in an ominous tone, “they're footsteps. Something is coming, about to crash right through that door. The sound gets faster, louder, and you realize with horror there's nothing you can do to stop--”

BANG!

A collective shriek of terror followed by utter chaos erupted in the room as you slammed the door behind you. Mike bolted right out of his chair to snap his head in your direction, and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you as his hair followed the movement two seconds later. Lucas' chest was heaving, his forehead pressed against his folder on the table. Eddie nearly jumped four feet in the air, now perched with his arms around his knees on his 'throne' which you recognized from the list of missing items from the drama department prop shop.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/n)!” Dustin wheezed, one hand grasping at his heart through his Hellfire shirt and the other braced against the table to just barely keep him upright in his seat.

“Serves you right,” you chuckled, “that's what you get when you're late.”

“Shit!” Lucas' eyes widened as he eyed the clock, scrambling to get his folder and figures into his backpack.

“Yep,” you said, “five minutes or I'm leaving your asses here, you're gonna make me miss my shift.”

“Woah, hey,” one of the members you didn't recognize objected, his initial shock now replaced with annoyance, “this session doesn't end until 9:00. That's the way it's always been.”

“Gareth, I really wouldn't push it,” Dustin whispered loudly as he packed his things.

As soon as you turned to Gareth, he seemed to wilt like a weed.

“Listen,” you started, your eyes narrowing, “they should have told you they had to bolt an hour early, because I told them days ago. Their parents are still at their jobs, I have to get to mine, and it looks to me like you weren't in the middle of combat, so pausing your game here should be no problem. Don't these stories span, like, months or something?”

“If they leave, we'll finish the session without them,” Gareth said, gathering the little courage he had left, though his wavering voice betrayed him.

“Ordinarily I'd agree with Gareth the Great,” Eddie said, a small tinge of his D&D voice present, “but if three members are being swept away, that leaves you with an incomplete party, and there's no chance of you advancing this quest without facing certain death, mutilation, or both. We wrap for tonight, gentlemen.”

The sighs of relief from Lucas and Dustin clashed with the groans of disapproval from the others as they were excused. Meanwhile, Mike was looking between you and Eddie and back again, wondering what sort of spell you put him under.

“Usually wouldn't have done that, but you caught me on a good day,” Eddie turned to you cheekily.

“Could've fooled me,” Mike muttered under his breath.

“This is clearly showing an intrinsic female bias,” another one of the older members hissed.

“Being ready to adapt to any situation is a part of pursuing adventure,” Eddie countered, “That's what you said, wasn't it? Or should we assume from now on the words of Frank the Fearless mean nothing? They clearly forgot to tell us about the change in schedule, and (Y/n) has to. . .”

He looked at you expectantly, gesturing for you to say something under the table.

“I've, uh, got a night shift at Valestro's-”

“There you go, see? Perfectly reasonable excuse,” Eddie said quickly as he vaulted himself over the table, “I can't let the kids walk home in the dark, and I'm definitely not driving them back in my van 'cause I've got enough rumors to worry about-”

“You just think she's hot,” Mike rolled his eyes.

“Alright, out,” Eddie said, hiding his flustered face as he pushed them through the door, “away, you little gremlins.”

“Let's go,” you said, grabbing your keys from your pocket and about to follow them until Eddie's voice called out after you.

“Hey, uh, wait!”

You turned around, exasperated and about to tell Eddie you didn't have time to talk, but the look on his face and the pleading glimmer in his eyes made you falter. Damn it. How the hell was he so cute? You cursed internally, looking down at your watch.

“You've got 45 seconds.”

He grinned in victory and your expression softened.

“You said you worked at Valestro's?” he asked, “That's the restaurant across the street from The Hideout, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well, The Hideout is where my band plays Tuesday nights, so you should come see us sometime. It'll add a nice touch to the crowd of sad dudes sitting alone drinking tequila.”

“I. . . actually get off early on Tuesdays, so I might just take you up on that,” you said.

“No shit?” Eddie beamed, “guess fate works out like that, huh?”

“Oh, now you're not in a rush,” Mike calls out to you sarcastically, his voice carrying from the other end of the hallway.

“Get in the damn car!” you seethed, making all three boys dash through the door and run off towards the parking lot.

“I gotta run,” you said, “but I'll see you next week?”

“Promise?” Eddie teased.

“On your alive grandmother's grave,” you smirked, recalling his earlier words and giving him a little salute wave before taking off down the hall. Eddie watched your retreating figure, waiting for you to fully round the corner before spinning on his heels and punching the air in victory. He made a silent vow to give you a show come Tuesday night.

And boy, did he deliver.

_______________________________________________________

The Hideout was definitely not what you expected. From the outside it just looked like any other shitty dive bar in Hawkins, but as soon as you stepped inside you felt like you were entering a whole other world.

Blue and purple neons illuminated the space, casting colorful shadows against the black brick walls. The huge mirrors set up on either side of the bar made it look like it went on forever, reflecting the lights in an infinite tunnel. You looked around in wonder, passing through groups of dancing patrons as you made your way to the other side. You realized there was a door leading to an outside venue with tables and chairs, along with a modest-sized stage that was connected to the interior. As you looked around, you realized that Eddie definitely undersold the audience when he invited you; there was actually a decent crowd already gathered outside.

There were a surprising amount of people around your age that you recognized from a few rival high schools and small colleges nearby. You couldn't really pin any one aesthetic to the group. Each person was dressed like they were going to drastically different parties but talked among themselves like they were all old friends. The mix of subcultures wasn't anything that would happen at Hawkins High, and it was honestly refreshing to see. Everyone was wearing what they felt their best in, whether that was a skintight black dress and six inch platforms, or a pastel sweater vest and Reebok sneakers.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't dress up a little for the show too. You wore your white Van Halen shirt to stay comfy, but you'd chosen the perfect shade of red lipstick to best compliment your skin tone; the same color as the patent leather skirt that hugged your hips perfectly. The chunky black boots you wore added a few inches to your height and a little boost to your confidence.

The band was met with a few cheers as they ran onstage from inside, and you grinned as you saw Eddie. He was wearing a black W.A.S.P shirt tucked into quite possibly the tightest pair of leather pants you'd ever seen. The denim jacket he wore had the Metallica logo on the back, with blue bolts of lightning painted up the sleeves.

You watched his eyes sweep over the crowd, and as they finally landed on you his expression lit up immediately. You shot him a smile back, waving as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. They introduced themselves as Corroded Coffin, and you chuckled. Despite a few of the members changing, the name was still the same as that fateful day at Hawkins Middle School.

As soon as they began to play, something in the room shifted. You could feel the pulse of the drums in your chest, the beat rising up through the floor beneath you. It was impossible not to get swept up in the energy of the crowd. The people that were excited to see them before were even more hyped up, and the people that had reluctantly been dragged out were fully invested now.

When Eddie started his solo, it was like he transformed in front of you. Watching him move with the music and interacting with the people standing in the front row; fingers flying across the fret board, skin glistening with sweat, ecstatic expressions only fed by the adrenaline of the crowd. You were watching him be truly in his element, and the only thought you had was how lucky you were to witness it. Eddie had always been someone that was true to himself, but seeing that be met with enthusiasm instead of ridicule made you inexplicably happy.

As he got to a particularly brutal tapping part he raised his guitar nearly level with his face, brows pinched in concentration and mouth hung loosely open. You watched in amazement as he played— every note crystal clear, not a single beat behind. His solo ended with a note that you were sure nearly snapped his whammy bar clean off, and the crowd went absolutely wild; you included, as you screamed and cheered as loudly as you could for him.

Eddie beamed at the crowd, ecstatic but also exhausted. As the rhythm guitarist continued to play the melody, Eddie took the few precious measures he had off to grasp at the bottle of water behind his amp, twisting the cap off and throwing it somewhere behind him before downing nearly all of it. Most of the water spilled out over his mouth, running down the column of his throat. He tossed the now empty bottle over his shoulder, untucking and lifting the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face before jumping back into the song just in time for the final chorus.

Fuck.

That shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Now you knew about a few tattoos that you didn't before.

The band kept the energy up for the whole set, never letting the ball drop until their explosive finale. The members grinned at each other, high fives and congratulatory slaps on the back going all around as the crowd went crazy.

“You've been a great fucking audience tonight,” Eddie said into the mic, “thank you!”

And with that, he jumped off the stage and into the crowd. People were calling over to him, trying to get his attention, but his eyes were only on you as he made his way through the waves of people.

“So?” Eddie said, covering up his buzzing nerves as he finally reached you, “not too shabby, huh?”

“You were amazing!” you said breathlessly, “All of you were. And you completely lied to me about the crowd you get, by the way.”

“Well the college kids don't usually come out, but I guess tonight was our lucky night,” Eddie smiled bashfully, instinctively moving to fiddle with his hair. It had taken everything he had not to look right at you for the whole performance— a task he was mostly successful in, but damn it was hard. You looked incredible.

“Do you wanna come over for a drink?” he asked, surprising no one more than himself as the words came tumbling out before he knew what he was saying. “I know it's late,” he backtracked quickly, “and you probably have stuff to do-”

“Sure.”

Eddie froze in place.

He definitely hadn't been expecting that response; that much was obvious from the gigantic mess in his trailer that reared its ugly head when he opened the door. He turned over his shoulder, flashing you a shaky smile.

“Just a minute,” he said, quickly disappearing inside and closing the door behind him. You laughed to yourself as you heard frantic shuffling followed by a loud bang! and a muted 'fuck' from inside. You jumped as the door practically flew back open.

“Welcome to paradise,” Eddie said, slightly out of breath, “Just, uh, clearing the runway for you.”

“Such a gentleman,” you said with a playful curtsy.

“I know! Somebody had to acknowledge it,” he grinned.

You followed him through the trailer to his room, helping him carry in some of his equipment from the show. He gestured as an offer for you to take a seat before disappearing into the kitchen, and as you situated yourself on the edge of his bed you took the time to look around. It was a small space, but he'd definitely managed to make it his own. The walls were covered in overlapping metal posters, and you could see the evolution of his music taste as the older era Van Halen and Black Sabbath posters peeked out from underneath the ones of Dio, Merciful Fate, and Judas Priest. Bits and pieces of his personality were scattered around, from the open notebook scrawled across with tabs and lyrics on his desk, to the stack of faded horror comics in the closet. You found yourself smiling before you knew it.

Eddie swiftly broke your train of thought when he returned with two cans of beer and tossed one over to you. You caught it with one hand easily, cracking the tab and taking a generous sip.

“I've got whiskey around here somewhere, but I'll be a good samaritan and warn you that it tastes like farm tractor gasoline,” Eddie said with a sincerity that made you smile.

“Oh, wait a second!” he snapped his fingers, and you craned your neck from the bedroom to see him open the cabinet under the kitchen sink, producing an expensive looking bottle of tequila. “A little gift from my law-abiding uncle,” he said, grabbing two shot glasses from the shelf above.

“I couldn't,” you said. That bottle looked way nicer than anything you've ever had.

“Oh, but you could,” Eddie said, coming back to the room and holding out the now-filled shot to you, “Come on, as a thank you for coming out to see us tonight.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, O chivalrous dungeon master?” you smirked.

“You caught me,” he said, “the dark lord demands another sacrifice, and they're usually more willing when they're sloshed.”

“Give me that,” you laughed, his smile mimicking yours as you took the glass from his hands.

And with a small toast, you both knocked the shot back. You exhaled, feeling the warmth travel down your throat. It was just as smooth as the gold label made it seem. As you moved to set the empty glass down, his gaze caught yours for a moment. You felt your cheeks warm, a fluttering feeling low in your stomach, and you couldn't be sure if it was the shot or the way he was looking at you.

You cleared your throat, hoping it would do the same to your head, and rose from your seat to set your beer on the shelf over his bed along with the shot glass. As you did, you noticed an unusually blank spot on the wall; your curiosity was quickly satiated as Eddie took his beloved guitar out of its protective case from the show and promptly hung it back up among his posters and band fliers.

“It's beautiful,” you said.

It really was; the unique angular cut and red crackle pattern across the sleek black finish felt so quintessentially Eddie. True, you had noticed the instrument during the show, but to be frank you were much more focused on the player.

“Thank you kindly,” he said with a little southern accent, tipping an imaginary hat.

“Mind if I try it?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

As soon as the words left his lips, Eddie gave himself whiplash when he realized how quickly he'd responded. Why the fuck did he just agree to that? He couldn't have been that drunk yet. He'd hardly let anyone even touch his guitar before. He was about to take it back until he saw you, the strap already around your shoulder and your fingers running gently along the frets.

And just like that, he melted.

You stared down at the guitar in your hands, clearly well-worn and well-loved. The wood of the first five or so frets were faded from use, small nicks and scratches littering the body. Slowly, you began to finger pick a simple tune. Since it wasn't plugged into anything the notes were tinny and quiet, but Eddie stared at you in wonder all the same.

“You play?” he coughed out, taking another swig of his beer to both settle his nerves and keep himself from rambling.

“A little,” you smiled up at him, “My mom taught me.”

“No kidding?”

“I definitely owe my taste in music to her,” you said, carefully placing the guitar back on its wall mount, “She has this huge record collection I used to play through all the time.”

“Well, I doubt I have as many as your mom,” Eddie said, reaching under his bed, “but I've got a pretty decent collection myself.” He produced a large black storage box and flipped the lid up proudly, revealing vinyl sleeves packed up to the brim.

“You're a Bowie fan, right?” Eddie said, fishing out his Aladdin Sane record and turning it over in his hands, “Y'know he's in a movie coming out in a few weeks, it's called Labyrinth. Not really sure what it's about, but it looks cool as hell.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” you said, “I think he's playing some kind of goblin king?”

“Of course he is,” Eddie chuckled.

“We should go see it.”

“Huh?” Eddie blinked, looking over at you.

“The movie,” you laughed as he turned red, “together.”

“Oh,” he said dumbly, “yeah, sure! That'd be, uh-”

“Fuck!” you cursed. Okay, maybe the tequila caught up with you faster than you thought it would. As you reached up for your beer you ended up misjudging the distance, knocking it over onto you before you could properly grab the can. You staggered back, trying to wipe what you could off your shirt, but to no avail. The material was thoroughly soaked with shitty alcohol, the smell and the way it made your shirt cling to your arms and chest making you cringe. Not only were you doused, but the rest of the can had spilled onto the carpet.

“Shit, I'm so sorry,” you said, grabbing the can and tossing it in the trash, running into the kitchen to grab some paper towels.

“No harm done,” Eddie said, getting up from his seat, “records are intact, and this isn't the worst thing to happen to this floor, trust-”

He stopped in his tracks as you returned from the kitchen with the towels, starting to sop up the beer from the carpet. Your white shirt had become pretty much transparent from how wet it was, hugging every curve of your body like a second skin, and your red lace bra showing very clearly through the fabric. The buzz starting to kick in definitely made his reaction time slow in tearing his eyes off you, grateful you were just as inebriated so you didn't see him staring at you like a creep. He turned his back to you, taking as deep of a breath as he could while being inconspicuous.

'Jesus Christ, get a hold of yourself man!' Eddie mentally kicked himself.

He was better than this.

He turned back around to you, only to find you now on your knees as you tended to the spill, your skirt riding up your thighs.

No he wasn't.

“Um. . . I, uh,” Eddie spluttered, gently taking the paper towels from your hands, “I'll get this, don't worry.” He rose, looking around his room and grabbing the nearest shirt in his closet, “Here, that can't be comfortable,” he said, handing it to you, “You can borrow this for now, bathroom's around the corner.”

You stared up at him from the floor, eyes wide, and he swore he nearly lost his shit right then and there. Moving before he could do or say anything stupid, he helped you to your feet and into the bathroom. Eddie whipped around as soon as the door closed, first taking some deep breaths to calm himself down but eventually resorting to frantically pacing while mouthing 'what?!' over and over when that ultimately failed.

When you eventually exited the bathroom he quickly moved to sit down on the couch, acting as natural as he could. It was at that moment Eddie realized he'd made two severe miscalculations.

One, the shirt he'd handed you was his Hellfire t-shirt. And two, the bra you were wearing was soaked through, so you'd taken it off.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“. . . I need a cigarette,” he said, more to himself than you.

“We can move outside if you want,” you said, “some fresh air might be good.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice strained as much as his pants. God, he felt like such a loser.

You were right, the fresh air was nice, but it did nothing to clear his mind.

He tried not to stare at the way your plush lips wrapped around the cigarette as he lit it for you, but his head was spinning, and not just from the alcohol.

As he moved to light his own, a dull spark emitted from his lighter as he flicked it, then fizzled out. He tried again, but no flame came up.

“Damn,” Eddie cursed at the lighter, “Really? You're gonna bail on me now?”

“Empty?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I'll be back, I've got another one somewhere-”

“Wait,” you slurred, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket as he was about to get up, “Here.”

He stared at you in confusion and you chuckled slightly, placing the dart between his lips. Eddie's hair stood on end as you leaned in, your eyes never leaving his as you just barely pressed the lit end of your cigarette to his. Eddie managed to force some air into his lungs, his pulse racing in his ears as he sucked in, the embers from yours lighting his. He stayed there frozen as you grinned, exhaling the smoke as you pulled back from his face.

You were going to kill him.

He couldn't get you out of his head. You'd ended up talking for hours about everything and nothing, and he found his tongue to be unexpectedly loose with you, even as as he sobered up to drive you home. You were too easy to talk to, and hilarious, and witty; he couldn't remember the last time he laughed this much with anybody. As he lied awake, staring at the ceiling of his trailer that night, his thoughts were only ones of you. In only a handful of interactions you'd completely captivated him.

Little did he know, you were thinking about him just as much. Spending time with him felt easy; your conversations always flowed so naturally, and he never seemed to drain your social battery even during your off days. Without even noticing, you felt more like yourself when you were around him; he made you bold, your actions when you were tipsy in his trailer making that obvious, even if they made you embarrassed now.

“He's nice,” Chrissy said, snapping you out of your trance.

“What?” you said lamely, “who?”

“Eddie. I noticed you've been hanging out a lot recently,” Chrissy said with a small smile, “Sorry, you were starring.”

“I was not,” you huffed, averting your gaze back to your sandwich. The basketball team had practice during lunch today, so you and Chrissy were able to sit together at one of the back tables without having to deal with Jason, who she was still inexplicably with. You could see Eddie sitting at his usual Hellfire Club table from where you were, passionately talking through his latest campaign ideas with Mike as he used his hands to gesture wildly for emphasis.

“He is nice, though,” you grinned.

“Yeah, we talked for the first time today, actually.”

“So that's why I didn't see you during free period earlier,” you chuckled, “where were you guys?”

“Uh. . .” Chrissy faltered, “Sort of, well. . .the woods, I guess?”

“The woods?” you laughed, “What, were you buying off him or something?”

When you were met with silence on Chrissy's end, your eyes widened.

“Wait, really?”

“It's nothing,” she said quickly, “It was just weed, and I ended up not buying it anyways, and. . .”

She trailed off, her gaze planted firmly in her lap. You could tell something was wrong. Chrissy didn't have anything against drugs, but you knew she avoided both smoking and drinking because of the habits that ran in her family. You never thought she would turn to any kind of substance because she was stressed, even if it was just weed; she told you she never wanted to rely on something like that.

You carefully took her hand in yours and squeezed gently, a silent system you both came up with when you were younger to ask if the other was okay. Chrissy's breath shuddered in her chest, her eyes turning glassy as she slowly shook her head 'no.'

“You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to,” you said softly, “Just say the word and I'll change the subject, but if you want to talk about it, you know I'll listen.”

Chrissy shut her eyes, gathering herself in a few deep breaths, and you waited patiently for her response.

“My dad went out of town for work again,” she said quietly, “so it's just me and mom at home.”

You let the weight of that sink in before turning to face her.

“You know you're always welcome to stay over at my place,” you told her, “I mean that. For as long as you have to. If you need anything, just call the house.”

“Thank you,” she said, managing a smile, “But I'll be okay.”

And that was the beginning of the end.

That night, you planned to finally go see Labyrinth with Eddie like you'd talked about, and you were anxiously looking forward to it. He said that he would meet you at the theater after Hellfire Club was over around 9:30, but he never showed up. At first you were hurt, thinking that he had ditched you on purpose, but you figured something important probably came up; you'd ask him about it the next morning. You never got the chance. You heard the police sirens fly past your house, and it didn't take long for the news to spread to every ear in Hawkins:

Chrissy Cunningham had been murdered.

You had gone about the next three days as usual— waking up, taking a shower, and heading downstairs. You'd watch TV for a while, read, listen to music, and go to sleep; numbly going through the motions of your life. With your parents away on their business trip, it was just you and your empty house. The phone rang a couple of times, but you never answered. It came to a point where you became unsure of how much time had actually passed; the minutes, days, and hours blurring together. You just felt nothing.

You directed your unfocused gaze into your bowl of cereal, your first meal of the day despite it being 11:00 at night. As you brought a spoonful up to your mouth, you suddenly found it difficult to breathe. You stared at the box, a distant memory slipping through the shallow cracks of your mind against your will.

One of the first times Chrissy came over to your house you were in the third grade, and you remembered her staring in wonder at the food that you had in the house— chocolate bars, pizza bagels, sugar coated cereals— all things she admitted to never having tried before because her mom didn't let her. You still remembered the twinkle in her eyes when she tried Fruit Loops for the first time, and how you'd always sneak some to school in a plastic bag to give to her at recess.

As you swallowed your bite your vision blurred, eyes stinging, and it was then that you realized you were crying. You dropped your spoon back into your bowl as a sob racked your chest, and you finally allowed the first grieving tears to spill from your eyes after days of keeping yourself together.

You had stayed there at the table, despair clawing at your stomach until something else replaced it. Rage, flickering like a flame in your belly and growing by the second. You wanted revenge. You wanted justice. You wanted to hurt whoever did this to her.

And then the news came out that she had been found in Eddie Munson's trailer, the #1 suspect for her murder, and the world came crashing down around you. Which brought you here, sitting on your couch in front of the TV in utter disbelief as the chief of police held up Eddie's picture.

“The suspect we're currently in pursuit of is Eddie Munson. All Hawkins residents are advised to stay inside their homes past dark. If anyone has any information on the whereabouts of the suspect, contact the police immediately. This is an extremely dangerous individual and should not be approached alone-”

The sudden, loud knock at your door almost sent your soul into the stratosphere.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, gripping at your hair in an attempt to calm down. You still hadn't processed everything that happened, let alone the news you just received.

“Just a second,” you called out, or at least you thought you had. Your words sounded like they were far away, barely coming out as a whisper. When the second knock came you jolted at the sound, swallowing hard.

“I said just a second!” you shouted. You turned the TV off, getting up from the couch and forcing a shallow breath into your lungs as you opened the door.

Your eyes widened as you saw who waited on the other side.

“Please don't freak out,” Steve said. Nancy, Robin and Max stood off to the side. Next to them were Lucas and Dustin, who kept glancing over their shoulders nervously.

“What the hell are you all doing here?” you asked, your head swimming.

The group turned to look at one another, a silent agreement made as they slowly moved apart to reveal a very disheveled, very nervous Eddie Munson standing behind them. He offered a small wave.

Your blood froze.

“No wait, (Y/n), please!” Steve wedged his hand in between the door as you immediately tried to close it.

“These fingers will come off, Harrington,” you hissed, feeling tears burn behind your eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait-”

Steve groaned in pain as you stomped hard on his foot, shoving his hands out of the door before slamming it shut in his face.

“(Y/n)!” Steve said desperately, pressing his forehead against the door as you locked it, “Please, just listen to us, we need your help.”

“Go away,” you pleaded, your voice hoarse, “just get the fuck away from me.”

“(Y/n), Eddie is innocent,” you heard Dustin say, “We know that he is. The thing that killed Chrissy. . . it was from the Upside Down.”

The quiet that followed was suffocating; it seemed as though even the crickets and cicadas had stilled in the wake of it. Steve sighed, lightly punching the door in defeat. Then the sound of a lock and chain being undone split the silence like the crack of a gun, making everyone startle slightly. Steve stepped away from the door just as you opened it.

“Get your asses in here,” you said wearily, “Now.”

Read Chapter 3 Here!

Taglist: @bloodyziggy, @getosugaru, @httpjiikook, @castiels-lilass, @bubblebuttwade, @slvtherinseeker, @lune2u, @dontcallmesavvy

List is always open~

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season 4 x reader #billy hargove x reader #reader insert #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Text

The Darkest Timeline, Part 5

"What if you took her home?" Alex asks Kara.

Kara's eyes widen sharply. "Lena's apartment is the first place Lex will look for her!"

Rolling her eyes, Alex huffs. "I meant your home, Kara."

"Oh."

"Think about it," her sister continues. "Lena might be safe here, but she has no connection to this place. If she's going to have any chance of regaining her memories, she needs to be somewhere familiar. Or at the very least, she needs to start making new memories, and she can't do that cooped up on the ship."

Kara's heart starts to pound, and not just at the prospect of spending time with Lena in the comfort of her own home. If Lena does regain her memories... would she still hate Kara?

But in the end, she can only nod.

"Okay."

---

"Here we are," Kara announces, carefully leading Lena into her apartment. Lena's eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses, her arm linked through Kara's from the slow walk up the stairs. Though her vision slowly improves, navigating the dark stairwell up to Kara's apartment had proven too much for her, so Kara had quietly informed her of each and every step, steadying her as she climbed on hesitant feet.

By now it's late afternoon, and the sunlight spilling in through Kara's windows makes Lena squint, lifting one hand to shade her eyes. "Could you...?"

"Oh, yeah. Yes. Just, stay right here."

Kara carefully withdraws her arm from Lena's before zipping around the room, drawing the curtains closed until the room falls into more comfortable shadows. In a moment, she's back in front of Lena.

"Any better?"

Lena's hand lowers, and she blinks with a relieved nod. "Yes, thank you." She sighs. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," Kara assures her. "I'm glad you're here, and I want you to be comfortable."

Lena hesitantly removes her sunglasses, squinting even in the gloom. Still, she scans the room, taking in the sights around her. Kara isn't sure how much of it Lena can actually see, but that doesn't stop Lena from offering a small smile.

"It's nice," she says.

"Thanks," Kara returns. "Believe it or not, you used to spend almost every Friday night here."

"That seems... hard to believe," Lena says softly. "Last I remember, I didn't have many friends."

An idea sparks in Kara's brain. She smiles broadly, taking Lena's hand and crossing towards the refrigerator. "You don't have to just take my word for it. Here-- careful of the island-- look." She points to the game night scorecard on the door of the fridge. "This is from our last game night. You and Brainy absolutely crushed us at trivial pursuit."

Kara reached up and took down one of the pictures from beneath its magnet, gazing at it for a moment before handing it to Lena.

"Here's a photo of us."

The picture's at least a year old by now, but Kara still remembers the way her and Lena's cheeks had touched as they'd all crowded in for a selfie. It was before James had left for Calvintown-- it was his long arm that had snapped the picture, capturing every single beaming face.

Kara watches as Lena squints, moving the photo closer in an attempt to bring the image into focus. After a moment, Kara takes her by the hand again.

"I have an idea."

An hour later finds them crosslegged on the floor in front of the television, scrolling through Kara's photo reel while her phone projects the images on the widescreen tv, large enough even for Lena to see.

Kara tells the story behind each photo, narrating the circumstances like a tour guide of Lena's missing years. The further they go, the more Lena relaxes, her shoulders losing the tension that's been ever present since she woke up.

When Kara notices tears gathering in Lena's eyes, she stops, setting her phone aside.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

Lena sniffles quietly, wiping at her eyes. "I guess part of me never really believed you," she confesses. "You've been nothing but kind to me, but deep down I wondered if you were trying to manipulate me, telling me we were friends to gain my trust. But seeing all this... it just hit me that there really are years of my life that I can't remember."

Kara reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Lena's knee. "I would have had doubts too. I'm sorry I didn't think of this sooner. I shouldn't have just expected you to believe us."

"Will you--" Lena's voice cracks, and she huffs, rubbing at her cheeks in frustration. "Will you tell me?"

"Lena..."

"I want to know what I lost," Lena insists, her tone edging on bitter. Her jaw tightens, her features hardening even as she reaches for Kara's hand and clasps it tightly.

Finally, Kara nods in agreement. "But you haven't lost everything, okay? Even if you don't remember... you still have us."

---

Kara tells Lena everything. She shares every detail she remembers of the day they met, without glossing over the circumstances of her and Clark's visit, nor the eventual realization that Lena had been the target of the shuttle crash all along.

She shares what she knows of Lena's role in the Daxamite invasion, and her struggles with Morgan Edge the following year. Lena's breaths begin to shake when Kara speaks of Lex and his eventual escape, but she doesn't make any attempt to end the conversation. Lena listens, absorbing every detail in a way she hadn't before.

It takes all night and then some. Kara answers every question Lena has, never once losing patience as she attempts to paint a verbal picture of Lena's life. By the time the sun begins to rise, painting the room a dusky blue through the curtains, Lena's stomach calls an intermission by growling hungrily, reminding them that they'd forgotten dinner the night before.

"Maybe we should pause for some pancakes," Kara laughs, grateful for the reprieve. Lena allows her to help her to her feet, her features heavy and pensive. As they begin mixing the batter for pancakes, Lena seems to process the information she'd been given, casting them in a pall of silence.

It's not until they're tucking into their mountain of pancakes and maple syrup that Lena speaks up again.

"So... I shot my brother."

Kara nods. "That's what you told us. But like I said, he was resurrected to help save the multiverse, so it didn't really stick."

Lena pushes at her breakfast with her fork, her gaze somber. "No wonder he shot me, then."

"You killed him to try and protect others, Lena." Kara shoots her a pointed glance, one that Lena can barely meet before looking away. "You are not the same."

At that, Lena can only shrug, one shoulder lifting as green eyes meet Kara's gaze with a flat expression.

"Maybe we are."

Lena's features remain heavy through the rest of breakfast. As Kara prepares the pullout bed for Lena to sleep on, Lena asks one more question.

"Is there anything else?"

Kara freezes, her heart lodged in her throat. They haven't yet touched on the summer between Lex's death and the crisis event, or the events following Kara's tearful confession at the Pulitzer ceremony. They haven't discussed Mount Norquay, or Myriad, or their fractured friendship.

Kara looks at Lena, with her heavy features and heavier heart, and makes her decision.

"No," she utters. "That's mostly it, really."

#supercorp #darkest timeline #lena starts to trust again #lena needs a hug #kara is put in a difficult position #she makes the best decision she can okay?#they both need a hug #honestly

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bangtanfancamp · 4 years

Text

∴ summary: After spending a gloomy afternoon trying to get out of your own head alone , you finally seek out your boyfriend for help

∴ masterlist

∴ one shot

∴ pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

∴ word count: 2k

∴ rating: pg-13

∴ genre: soft angst, comfort, established relationship

∴ warnings: oc is struggling with something akin to depression, it’s alluded to but not explicitly stated

∴ author’s note: this is incredibly self indulgent and was written in one go. I’ll edit later. I’d rather have it here to share sooner in case anyone needs it as much as me.

─────────────────────

“Joonie, what are you doing? Are you busy?” Your voice comes out small as you peak around the corner into his office, sweater pawed knuckles sneaking around the edge of the door frame.

He doesn’t look up at first. Perhaps you really were too quiet. Or maybe he’s just that immersed in his book. It’s not a cover you’ve seen before so it very well may be the latter. You know how he is when he has a new thing to get lost in. Ever your astronaut adrift, exploring the moons just beyond whatever new world he’s found.

He looks so at home now. Cozy in his den of words and letters. Perfectly domestic amidst lofty thoughts and paragraphs. His skin is mostly bare today, his coordinated tank top and shorts exposing a golden expanse of toned arms, long legs . They’re folded up and crossed, a little boy lost in wonder as he sits on his futon.

His hair is a warm chestnut this week, fringe too long around the lashes but too short to pull back. The way it refuses to cooperate when he brushes it out of his eyes, trickling silkily, stubbornly back into place, exactly where it wants to be, makes you want to chuckle.

He still hasn’t noticed you’re there. Too far gone in whatever his newest philosophy is to notice the way you study the dip of his furrowed brow, how it juxtaposes against the relief of his shadowed dimples, smiling even as he frowns. He finds so much pleasure in being studious— just for fun. No matter how much concentration it takes. You’ve always admired that about him. Admired everything about him really.

Clearing your throat, though you hate to interrupt him, you try again.

“Joonie?”

Somehow it’s even quieter than before, and as he turns another reverent page, you know you’ll have to physically intervene to interrupt him. You sigh. You hate to break the spell. He loves days like this—with the rain trickling down the window’s glass casting shadows on his focused face— he’s so happy to read when it rains.

He leans forward then without looking up to take a sip of his Earl grey, bumbling when the steam unexpectedly fogs his glasses. He laughs at himself, folding his book so it splays across the seat to mark his place and removing his glasses. It’s the first time he’s looked up. He spots you then, his face splitting into the smoothest “there’s my girl” smile you’ve ever seen.

“Hey… how long have you been standing there?” His voices comes low, warm, soothes something in you that desperately needs rest.

“Long enough to see you blind yourself with tea, it seems.” You try to smile back, but it’s a weak, floppy thing. Your cheeks can’t seem to commit so it falls a bit too flat. His brows pinch when he sees it. Something’s amiss.

“Hey… are you okay?” His inscrutable eyes analyze you, and you let him. Too tired to resist or put up a fight.

“It’s not my day, joonie.” Your voice is pitiful, even to your own ears. You’d normally wince at sounding like this in front of anyone else. But honestly, it’s okay. It’s Namjoon you’re with. You don’t have to play games or hide things. Not here. Not with him.

“Yeah?” His eyes catch yours as his palms rub the tops of his thighs. It’s an invitation. You know the gesture by now.

“Yeah… again. There have been so many of these lately,” you say, crossing the room to him, his arms unfolding to welcome you into them. “They come too often and stay too long. They’re terrible house guests. I’m tired of them, joon. I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

You’re scooped against him now, head on the space between his neck and his chest, fingers twisted into his tank top, bum in his lap, knees tucked up til you’re as small as you can get. There’s a broad palm of his on your back, fingertips on his other hand traveling the length of your arm in tender caresses as his cheek rests atop your head.

“Maybe we should start charging them rent. I bet even they can’t afford to pay that in this economy.” He offers the idea solemnly, fully committed to carrying out the metaphor that your mental health really is just an unfortunate airbnb plagued with hideously mannered squatters.

“You know, I love that about you, Joon.”

“My inability to pay rent?”

You nuzzle a sappy no into the heat of his neck,” dummy, your very real ability to never minimize things that are hard to me.”

The dip of his chest as he exhales is oddly soothing. It makes you feel like you’re being rocked and god if you don’t need to be cradled right now. “Things have been really hard lately, haven’t they?” He wonders aloud.

“It isn’t just my perception?” You look up, eyes entirely too pitiful, too round to belong to a functioning adult. No, Namjoon’s heart goes soft as he realizes he’s looking at the eyes of a very scared four year old you. The haunted gaze of an innocent girl who never got told everything would be alright. Even without knowing any more than that, it makes him want to cry.

“No, my sweet girl, it’s not.” Closing his eyes, he presses somber lips to your forehead, scooping you close to shield you— from the world, from yourself, from all the insidious things that took root in you so long ago you’re not even sure how they got in. His wide hands grip you tighter, a feeble attempt to help hold you altogether.

It’s silent then. A few beats of quiet, only disrupted by the clumsy clatter of irreverent raindrops on glass. His caress stays steady against your soft sleeves, his languid fingers perpetually in motion as he attempts to soothe the wounds that sit just beneath your skin.

You look up at him again, unsure what you’ll find.

You almost cry when you see the gentleness in his eyes. No judgment anywhere within them. Just something kind that stretches into the lines his eyes carve as he smiles. How you itch to gently peel his horn rimmed glasses off the tip of his button nose and kiss it. Bless him.

God, you don’t know why he’s so nice to you, but you’re so glad that he is. The smile you give back to him is wobbly, trembly, poorly constructed— but so so sincere that it makes your sad eyes shine. He bumps your nose with his, burying himself against your forehead as you cocoon into him.

You want to ask him what he’s reading, listen intently to him as he tells you all about it, but you know you can’t. You can’t decipher anything today. It all feels too heavy. You can’t carry the weight of anything new with hands already full. At this point, you’ve lived in this soft hoodie of his , the one you stole after his tour two years back because it smelled like him, for the past 3 days. You don’t even have the energy to change. With that kind of retention rate, seems there’s no point in asking your brilliant professor to explain anything.

Still, it’s always so nice to hear his voice. Especially with your ear to his chest like this.

So you ask anyway.

“Will you read to me, Joonie? Life always feels better when you’re reading.” You press your face deep into the copper of his neck, an open mouthed kiss placed against his pulse.

“It’s all kind of theoretical,” he chuckles. He’s bashful. If holding you weren’t occupying his hands, you know they’d be nervously fiddling with the back of his neck. A nerdy boy with a too big brain hesitant to share his discoveries.

“Is it good though? You’ve already read Jung to me, and I stayed awake through that. I think I deserve more credit.” You poke his throat with your nose. You’re not genuinely affronted, it’s just nice to remind him you're competent too. Sometimes.

His sweet chuckle then is earthy and rich, all dark molasses. “True. You actually gave pretty good feedback for that too. Fine. Didn’t mean to underestimate you. Just… bear with me if it feels odd? I haven't read it before. I can’t vouch for it all yet.”

“Fine by me. I’m just here for the cuddles and my Kim Namjoon audiobook.”

He can feel your smile against his skin. It makes him press you just that extra little bit tighter against him, exhaling soft through his nose when he feels you return the gesture.

Scooping up his paperback, he adjusts his glasses where they’ve slipped down his nose, clearing his throat to project like the narrator he claims he’s not but loves to be. He’s quiet for a few more beats. You can hear pages rustling as you sink against his skin. You imagine he must be trying to find where he was when you interrupted, or perhaps searching for a passage that seems apropos. Which he chooses, you don’t know, but you can feel when he settles, just before his caramel voice sweetens the thin air of the room.

“It's the same with the wound in our hearts,” he begins. “ We need to give them our attention so that they can heal. Otherwise the wounds continue to cause us pain. Sometimes for a very long time. We're all going to get hurt. But here's the trick - they also serve an amazing purpose.

When our hearts are wounded that's when they open. We grow through pain. We grow through difficult situations. That's why you have to embrace each and every difficult thing in your life.”

You aren’t sure when your eyes opened, not sure when they began to glaze over or when you started to cry. But you did. And you are. The salty things dripping down against Namjoon’s silken skin. Your sweatered knuckles try to knock them away, but to no avail. Your cheeks are still a wet mess and now his collarbone is too.

“Joon, what is this? What are you reading?”

“Oh… um, it’s— terribly long title but— Into the Magic Shop: A Neurosurgeon's Quest to Discover the Mysteries of the Brain and the Secrets of the Heart. Isn't that a mouthful?” his laugh is self deprecating, small, but still the most beautiful sound.

God, you hate how sensitive and soft you are right now. You don’t want to be sitting here at 4pm in your boyfriend’s lap crying over a paragraph in a book you've never even heard of before, but here you are.

“ is that… what the whole book is about ?”

“You know, I don’t know. I haven’t read it all yet. Jackson recommended it, I’m just now getting to it. Why - do you not like it? I can put this down. Read you something else if this is too heavy. You always like the poetry. I can grab that one anthology you like.”

You can feel as he starts to shuffle beneath you, eager to track down new reading material for you, afraid he’s scared you off, when the fluttering weight of your palm tethers him to his spot.

“No, stay. Keep reading. I want to hear the rest.”

You can practically hear him smile. Relieved. Can feel his dimples manifest without even trying. He kisses your hair, tilts your chin up to kiss you too. The complexity of bergamot and black tea making his supple lips even more bewitching than normal. The window in the corner is cracked open, the humidity it leaks in making your skin sticky as you lean against him.

He’s lovely like this. The rain soaked air mixing with his natural scent, a broad hand on your chin, warm thumb beneath your lip as you mold pliant into his kiss. He ends it with a peck to your lips, a tap of his nose to your nose, before hoisting you so close against him you just may fuse together.

And he reads. He reads until he’s exhausted. Til the rain has stopped, and you’ve drifted to rest pressed against the skin of his chest.

He folds the book shut once your breathing has stilled, his thumb marking the page as he tips you both to lay down sideways. As he extends his pinprick tingling legs for the first time in ages, you hoist yourself around him in your sleep like a koala, and he chuckles. That’s usually his move.

He kisses your hair then, traipsing fingers tenderly through the escaped bits of it that brush across your cheeks. He wonders if you know how madly in love with you he is. How often he’s wondered what he’d do without you. Today, like most days lately, your light was dim, but still kelvins brighter than anyone else’s.

He sends a silent thank you to whatever deity arranged things in such a way that he can hold you to his chest like this as the daylight saving’s darkness floods his studio office. You seemed so sad today, but he knows it won’t last forever. It’ll pass. It always does. He’ll just hold you until it does. And then some.

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randomshyperson · 4 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterThree

Gif is not mine got from google, idk who made it but i truly appreciate it.

Read on AO3 (EN) ///// Ler no AO3 (PT)

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit violence

"Howard Stark, the oil millionaire, has exclusively revealed to The Saint Denis Times, details of his new investment in the Heartlands in New Hanover"

You heard Steve read the contents out loud to you. You were sitting in his tent, leaning your back against the wood that held the tent upright. Peggy and Bucky were standing, while you and the twins were sitting on the ground, all listening intently to the captain's words.

- And then they narrate information about where the meeting will take place, and even the time Stark will be negotiating! - exclaims Steve.

- Rich people are stupidly confident. - Bucky comments, and everyone laughs briefly.

- The problem is who else will have the same idea as us. - You tell Steve, and he puts his hand to his chin thoughtfully. - With this information in the newspaper, a lot of people will be aware of the amount of money coming into Saint Denis.

- We have some advantages. - Peggy says. - Mainly the location. And besides, this kind of work will only be targeted by the bigger gangs. Who do we know that is in this area?

Steve runs his hands through his hair, and closes his eyes, as if trying to remember something. He exclaims after a moment.

- Where was the last time you heard of the Panthers? - He asks Bucky, who shrugs his shoulders.

- Three years ago. - replies the man. - They don't rob banks, Steve.

- That's even better then. - Steve says, but then turns to you. - Our only problem will be the O'Driscolls, they are the only ones who know we are in this area and have enough people for the job.

You exchanged a look with Pietro, and he nodded slightly. You sighed before you spoke:

- They' re not the only ones who know we're in the area. - You confessed and everyone, except Pietro, looked at you with surprise and curiosity. You felt quite embarrassed. - I had a little disagreement with Lemoyne Raiders yesterday afternoon.

Steve frowned at you, but you held his gaze. You did what you had to do to protect Pietro after all.

- Define exactly what kind of misunderstanding.

- We killed fifteen of them. - Cut Pietro off, and Steve looked at you in disbelief. Wanda also looked quite shocked.

- You went into a gunfight with a shoulder wound? - Steve looked at you seriously. - Have you completely lost your mind?

- She was helping me. - Pietro stood up, but he sounded almost embarrassed when he said it: - I got caught cheating.

- You must be joking. - Wanda's voice sounded and you watched her stand up and pinch her brother hard on the arm. Pietro complained with a groan.

Steve massaged his forehead impatiently.

- You guys are unbelievable. - He grumbled, and Peggy patted him on the back as she stood up, signaling him to sit down.

- Here's what we're going to do. - She began to speak in a calm but authoritative tone. Steve and I are going to set up the whole bank scheme, and we're going to find a way to use the O'Driscolls against themselves, in case they get the idea to rob Stark as well. I'll send Maria to find out about it. Wanda and Monica go to Limpany, find out if any Raiders are left alive to describe what these two look like, or if anyone is willing to talk.

- What about both of us? - Pietro asks, pointing at himself and at you.

- Potts always needs help in the kitchen. - Informs Peggy and you both let out a groan of discontent

Pietro grumbles slightly irritated - We are no longer children to be grounded.

- The first step is to stop your childish attitudes then. - Peggy replies, with an almost ironic expression. - Why don't you try to behave like Wanda, she went to get her engagement present and remembered to bring a newspaper with vital information!

Feeling your face getting very hot, you grumbled loudly " for heaven's sake" as the "adults" laughed at Peggy's insinuation. Tucking your face into your knees in embarrassment, you ignored the giggles. Wanda also blushed a lot, but you didn't notice from the position you were in.

The meeting ended shortly after, with Bucky signaling that he would be in charge of the weapons, as he usually was, as well as being the one with the sniper rifle, providing support from a distance.

You hurried back to your tent, since Pietro was frowning at the punishment, and Wanda had to go to Limpany later today. You watched her walk toward Carol's tent, where Maria and Monica were staying, as they refused to leave Carol's bedside until the woman was better, and then you looked away as Monica left with Wanda toward the horses.

Lying on your bed for several minutes, staring at the ceiling, you were startled to feel something being thrown against your body. Blinking in confusion, you picked up the object. It was some kind of luggage, you recognized as you turned. Then you looked at the two-letter border and turned your head quickly to the place from which it had been thrown.

Jumping out of bed, you almost tripped on the carpet, but kept your balance before throwing both arms around your friend, hugging her tightly. Nat laughed, but returned the squeeze.

- I missed you too. - She mumbled into your hair. You laughed, pulling away to look at her for a moment, before depositing several kisses on her cheek, making her laugh. It had been a habit of yours to greet her this way after long trips since you were little. - What happened while I was away?

She asked as soon as you let go.

- I'm grounded. - You shrugged, she raised her eyebrow.

- But you're too old for grounding now. - she joked. - Sorry, actually it starts tomorrow. - She sneered with irony, but you still laughed.

The two of you sat down on your bed, you placing Nat's luggage on the floor while crossing your legs as you sat down. She took off her boots and stretched her legs against your lap, letting her feet dangle, you played with the fabric of her pants in the area of her shins.

- How are you? - she asked after a moment. - You look different.

You grimaced. - Different?

- Tired I guess. - She explained. You shrug. Nat was always very good at reading you, well everyone else was in a way. Subtlety was not your strong suit.

- Well, this must be the quietest moment I have had in weeks. - You joked, but Nat frowned.

- I thought things would be quieter here. The south is less wild, isn't it?

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking a little.

- I don't know, Nat. Everywhere there is someone who wants to shoot us.

- Where did you get this? - She asked after a moment, you looked at her, and realized that she was signaling with her eyes the wound on your shoulder. You gave her a sideways smile.

- In a fight I didn't have to buy. - You sneer and then add. - It was an ambush a few miles away.

-Is that why Peggy punished you? - she questioned, and you laughed.

- Oh no. I am grounded for getting into a shootout with a local gang, all because of a card game.

Nat blinked for a few seconds.

- I'll pretend you didn't say that.

You laughed at her expression and she nudged you, muttering something like "idiot," which made you smile more.

- But how about you, did you manage to find what you were looking for?

- Of course, sweetheart. - said the girl in a smug tone, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. - I was going to tell the captain how things are in New Austin, but when I passed his tent he had a serious expression and a hand on his head, as if he had a migraine. I knew right away that I had to talk to you first.

- He was worried that yesterday's fight would jeopardize the plan. - You said.

- I think he was worried about you.

You looked away, not knowing what to say. A moment passed in silence, until Nat nudged your leg lightly with her finger, a mischievous look on her face.

- I brought a present for the birthday girl. - She joked, making you laugh uncomfortably. - But I don't think you'll care much.

You frowned and asked her why in a confused tone. Nat laughed before adding:

- Another redhead is going to take all your attention, as far as I know. - She teased, and you looked away, blushing at the insinuation.

- Everyone decided to tease me about it all of a sudden. - You grumbled, making Nat laugh.

- Because it's fun. - She retorted, and you just crossed your arms. Seeing your embarrassed face, she lifted one of her legs, only to push your face away with her foot. You let out a loud exclamation, laughing as she pushed you away.

You spent the afternoon together, playing and talking. You were not impressed by how much you missed Natasha, after all, you had always been very close. Being a few years older, she joined the gang a few months after you, and a year before the twins. Peggy was the one who found her, you knew that she had no family and that she had run away from a convent in Saint Denis just as you had run away from an orphanage when you were a child; the difference was that Nat was already fourteen when she did. And then she joined the gang, and became a kind of big sister to you.

When Nat left your tent to go talk to Steve about the information she got from New Austin, you decided to get out of bed for a while. Walking over to the campfire, you felt a twinge of pain as you felt an arm rest on your injured shoulder, and Pietro quickly apologized, changing his position only to leave his hand under your healthy shoulder.

- What is it, Pietro? - You asked him.

- I wanted to apologize. - He spoke clumsily, and you looked at him in confusion. He looked down at the floor. - For your birthday, you know, I got you stuck here because of Limpany.

You punched him lightly in the stomach, smiling.

- Don't be an idiot. - You said. - You know I don't care about birthdays, and besides, we take care of each other.

Pietro smiled pushing you lightly with his hand on your shoulder as he agreed with his head, his cheeks flushed.

- I'll make sure we do something fun at least. - He said as he walked beside you to the fire. He looked around, as if thinking of some activity. - Maybe Potts will let us go fishing.

- Is this your idea of fun? - You scoffed as you sat down by the fire. Actually, you liked fishing, but you didn't miss opportunities to mess with your friends. Pietro laughed, sitting down beside you.

- I meant you, me, and Wanda. - He joked, but you refused to look at him. - Unless of course you prefer I stay here.

- I'm not saying anything. - You grumbled, grabbing a stick out of the grass to stir against the embers of the fire. Pietro just laughed at your grumpy posture.

It didn't take long for Potts to get your attention, asking for help with the supply wagon. You and Pietro were in charge of peeling vegetables for the next few hours.

On the morning of your birthday, you woke up to someone jumping on you. Honestly, you were more surprised to realize that the bed could withstand the commotion than to watch Natasha wake you up excitedly. She was always so loud when she knew she was annoying you.

You thanked her for the gesture by pushing her off the bed, and laughed when you heard her fall on her ass on the floor, complaining that you were a brute. You stretched your body and then stood up, intending to wash your face.

Steve came over to greet you as soon as you left your tent, and he had a gentle smile on his face.

- Happy birthday, Y/N. - He spoke as he gave her a short hug. - Let's celebrate tonight, shall we?

You nodded, embarrassed by the attention. You spent the next few minutes getting hugs and compliments from everyone. When Pietro gave you a tight hug, you laughed, watching him get a mischievous expression as he held a package in front of you.

- Get ready for my amazing gift. - He said, waving his right hand over the box, imitating a gesture of suspense.

- Ready I am. - You jokingly replied.

Grabbing the package, you opened it carefully, appreciating that he had taken the time to wrap everything. You let out a surprised sigh as you looked at the new set and sheet of classic playing cards. Opening the deck, you looked at the details on the cards, impressed with the quality of the edition, noticing that it was one of those special versions, with gold scratches, and you let out a giggle of excitement when you saw the acrylic sticker that came along with the set. It was a collectible card, and on this one you saw the picture of "Erik Lehnsherr", the famous German gambler.

- I loved it, Pietro. Thank you. - You said to him, hugging him by the shoulders.

- We are all going to enjoy this present. - Nat added, smiling at you both. You laughed, putting the set back in the box, you would replace your old one as soon as you got back to your room.

Nat also had something in her hands, but she didn't wrap it, probably because of the rush of the trip, but you loved it anyway. She had a mischievous smile when she lifted the bottle to her face.

- Scotch whisky, miss, limited edition 1802. - She narrated in a voice that made you laugh a little. You kissed her cheek and hugged her tight.

- Thank you, Nat. - You said when you let go of her, she just smiled at you.

Waving to you, Natasha left in the direction of Steve's hut, she probably needed her chores assigned to her. Pietro asked you if you wanted to join him in hunting some rabbits and you said you were just going to get your rifle.

Bucky stopped you on your way out of your tent.

- I also have a present for you. - he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You smiled, grabbing the package he handed you. Hanging the rifle on your healthy shoulder, you tore the ribbon from the gift, opening it carefully. You looked at your new scout jacket, the brown fabric glistening in your eyes.

- Oh, Bucky, I love it. - You tell him, looking at him tenderly. Bucky looks slightly embarrassed, but hugs you tight.

- I thought that one was getting small. - He comments, pointing at your clothes. It was an affectionate comment, since he was also the one who had given you the jacket you were wearing several years ago.

He smiled at you one last time before leaving. And you went back inside the tent only to leave the jacket on your bed, not wanting to get it dirty during the hunt, and intending to wear it later.

Pietro was waiting for you at Knight's side, but you reminded him that you were only allowed to hunt on the outskirts of the camp. He rolled his eyes, but agreed, and you walked together toward the hunting area.

It didn't take long for each of you to hunt two rabbits, the animals were plentiful in the area, and even though Pietro was not as good a hunter as he was a thief, he still knew how to shoot.

You knocked his hat playfully, and he laughed at you. You walked back to camp amid giggles and playful shoving, while you bet on who could get there first.

You left the carcasses in the wagon destined for the skinning, and you let out a surprised exclamation when you saw Thor behind the counter.

- Why are you already up? - you asked in a worried tone. The man just smiled at you.

- I wasn't going to miss your birthday, kid. - He replies, and then gives a small pat against his own chest, where you watched him get shot a week ago - Besides, I'm healing quickly. I should be back in action soon.

- I'm glad to see you feeling better, Thor. - You told him and he just nodded, picking up one of the carcasses you and Pietro had left and beginning to skin it.

You and Peter were walking back to the kitchen when Potts just pointed to the creek, signaling for you both to clean yourselves up. You both exchanged an amused look, and giggling, walked towards the water to wipe the rabbit's blood off your hands.

- Do you know when Wanda will be back from Limpany? - You let the question slip and Pietro gave you an insinuating "you can't even hide it" look, and you felt your cheeks heat up a little. He shrugged.

- Actually, she was supposed to come back last night. - He said, not looking worried. - Maybe she and Monica decided to wait a little longer to see if anyone who had seen us would show up.

You grumbled in agreement, without really thinking about it, and then, as you finished wiping away the blood that remained between your fingers, the possibility hit you.

- Pietro. - You called out to him, and he looked at you curiously as he noticed your frown. - Do two women alone in a city that makes money from brothels sound like a safe idea to you?

Pietro blinked in confusion.

- But Wanda and Monica are scary. - He retorted, and you almost agreed, until you remembered.

- Not when they're disguised as society ladies. - You spoke up, feeling a sense of panic settle in your stomach at the possibility that Wanda was in danger.

You stood up at the same moment as Pietro, and he nodded towards Potts, who seemed distracted by the inventory of the supply wagon.

Sneaking through the woods beside the camp, you grabbed the reins of Knight as quietly as you could while pulling him into the woods, with Pietro and his horse at your side. When you reached a more remote area, you quickly mounted your horses and headed toward Limpany.

- Damn it, Y/N, I hope you are wrong about this. - Pietro said with a worried look on his face. You swallowed dryly, wishing you were.

Limpany was noisy and busy. You let out a low groan as you noticed the several wagons parked at the entrance, a symbol of an oil company painted on each one.

- I think Stark's employees have just arrived at the Heartlands. - You said to Pietro as you tied your horses against a fallen log at the entrance to Limpany.

- Interesting choice for the first stop. - He mentioned it in an ironic tone. You smiled.

- Wanna bet that half of them are married? - You said in a tone of irony and irritation. Pietro nodded, accepting the bet.

You signaled for him to adjust his hat, to hide as much of his face as possible. But judging by the number of strangers in town at the moment, you would hardly be recognized. Even in daylight, there were a considerable number of prostitutes on the streets, snuggled up against various men. You looked around trying to spot Wanda or Monica, but were unable to find them. You noticed that there were several horses tied up in front of the Brothel, and the Saloon and nudged Pietro on the shoulder.

- I think we'll need to look inside the brothel and the saloon. - You warned him and he nodded his head in agreement as he noticed the horses. - If we split up, we can find them faster.

Pietro turned his head to you quickly with a frown.

- Not a chance. - He denied it, and seeing that you were going to try to argue, he added: - You have a bruised shoulder, I'm not leaving you alone.

You sighed in agreement, knowing that he was right. It wouldn't help if you ended up getting hurt more.

- Let's try the brothel first. - you said, walking toward the building. A sign on the door caught Pietro's attention, and he poked you on the arm to make you read the "No weapons" sign.

- That's a problem . - He said, and you pushed him aside, blocking the view of anyone leaving the brothel for him. You took off the belt with the holster and handed it to him.

- You keep it then. - You grumbled, and he looked at you with confusion.

- Why am I the one who has to wait?

- Because you're a pretty boy, honey. - You sneer, and he continues with the same confused expression. - You walk into this brothel with no one with you, and ten harlots will jump on you, very much in search of what's in your wallet.

He sighed and shrugged, knowing that you were right. That didn't stop him from retorting:

- It's not like the girls aren't going to jump on you too.

- The difference is that I have a few minutes head start before they realize that I don't work here.

- Next time, wear a dress and you'll get a free pass. - teased Pietro, and you just pushed him away with amusement.

- Well, wish me luck. - You said, flashing him a nervous smile.

You heard Pietro whisper a "good luck" to you when you were already on the stairs, and then you went in. There was a counter, but judging by the number of customers, there must have been a total rush in the place, and you took advantage of the lack of a receptionist to sneak up the wooden stairs to the second floor.

You saw a lot of things you didn't want to see, from the breasts of strangers, to men with their swinging cocks on display. Occasionally you bumped into half-naked people, and watched with some amusement as a man was kicked out of the room with his pants down. It was a chaotic environment to say the least, and you didn't worry about being recognized, as there didn't seem to be any harlots available to notice you.

The most embarrassing part was checking the rooms. After the fifth open door where you interrupted somebody's fucking, you let out an impatient grumble as you walked to the end of the hall. Then the coat hanging in the corner of the door caught your attention. The sheriff's badge glowing prominently against the cloth.

You opened the door next, surprised to find only the sheriff, naked and asleep. You went into the room and started to look around for some more interesting information. Then you heard footsteps against the wood, and as you turned around, the vision took your breath away.

Wanda was wearing a simple purple dress, the corset marking her silhouette. She pinned up her hair, and applied a little make-up, highlighting her lips and her emerald orbs. Suddenly you couldn't formulate a sentence.

She looked at you with a mixture of concern and seriousness, closing the bedroom door.

- What are you doing here? - She asked in a low tone, and it took you a considerable moment to be able to think of the answer. You worried that she might think you had hit your head.

- You were gone a long time. Pietro and I thought...

- Pietro is here? - she exclaimed and looked quickly at the sheriff who had moved slightly.

- Sorry, we thought you guys were in trouble.

Wanda looked quickly at you, and then shifted the weight of her feet, before walking towards the small dresser in the room.

- We were in trouble. - She confessed and you straightened your posture at the information, feeling your chest fill with concern. - That's why I brought him here.

You felt your cheeks heat up a little and swallowed the bad feeling in your stomach.

- I think you did what you had to do. - You grumbled, and Wanda frowned at you. When she understood what you were implying, she let out a nasal laugh.

- I didn't have sex with him, my God! - She clarifies and you blink in surprise, relief replacing the bad feeling from before. - I just lied and said I would. And then when he got here, I hit him over the head.

- Oh, right. Got it. - You nod, looking at the ground.

- We ended up in trouble, though. Those men from the factory, they've been surrounding us all night.

- Why didn't you go back to the camp?

- Because he said he would report you and Pietro. - Wanda explains, pointing at the fainted sheriff. You shake your head, confused. The redhead walks over to the bedside table and pulls out two wanted posters, each with a drawing very similar to your and Pietro's face.

- I don't understand, Wands. - You sigh. - Tell me everything from the beginning.

- Y/N, the one thing you need to understand is that this town is involved in a lot of shit that goes way beyond a local gang. - Wanda pushed you slightly to the right, bending down toward the sheriff. He didn't wake up when she cut a golden key from the necklace he was wearing. You looked at her curiously. - We're going to need this to free Monica.

- Monica's in jail? - You exclaimed, and Wanda gave you a wry smile.

- It was a temporary incident.

Wanda grumbled, but then you heard the door slowly open, and she assumed a serious expression. Before you could turn around, Wanda pulled you forward by the arm, and you felt your heart race as your bodies came closer together. And then you held your breath as you felt her slip both arms around your waist, wrapping her arms around you. Wanda wrapped her face around your neck, pressing your body against hers. You let out a deep groan, and barely registered the words coming from a voice in the doorway:

- Sweetie, are you using this room?

Wanda made sure to press against your body with her arms and keep her face against your neck as she answered.

- Clearly.

The other woman laughed despite Wanda's harsh reply, and you thought she whispered "enjoy it" before she left, but you weren't sure of anything anymore.

Wanda's body seemed to warm against yours when you were alone, and you decided to face the window at the far end of the room, to keep your body from not obeying your reason.

Wanda released you softly, and you felt her hands slide down your spine and then back to your front, until she released you completely. She took a step back, her cheeks flushed and her gaze on the floor.

- Sorry about that. - She whispered without looking up. You felt your face flush.

- I never imagined that our first time in a brothel would be like this. - The only stupid comment your brain could formulate came out of your mouth before you could control it. You wouldn't judge Wanda if she never spoke to you again after that ridiculous joke, but she didn't care. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she said:

- And how did you imagine it would be?

You almost said "less clothes", almost. In reality you just choked in surprise and felt your knees weaken at the intensity of her gaze. But then the moment was broken when you heard a banging sound on the windowpane. You frowned at Pietro, who was standing outside.

- Tell me you're not hanging over the edge. - You complain as you open the window.

- Of course not, I don't know how to climb buildings. - He replies with amusement. - I found a ladder.

Wanda slaps Pietro on the head, looking at him seriously.

- You two have completely lost your minds. - She says. - Great idea to go back to the same place where they tried to kill you.

- Look little sister, you are being very ungrateful. - he debated stubbornly. - And why am I the only one getting beaten? It was your girlfriend who came up with the idea.

You grumbled at the nickname, and closed the window in Pietro's face. You didn't look at Wanda as you picked up the wanted posters and the key to the jail from the floor, but when you noticed her confused expression, you grabbed her by the hand, pulling her out of the room and toward the exit of the brothel.

You went around the building, finding Pietro on the opposite side from where you had left him. In his presence, you remembered to let go of Wanda's hand, and didn't notice the almost disappointed look she got when you did.

- Monica is in jail. - You tell Pietro, who looks at you in surprise. You hand him the key. - I need a drink. - You announce as you leave for the saloon.

When you get to the bar, you notice that it is as crowded as the brothel, but the people here are more focused on who drinks more than who gets laid more. You stand in the far corner and wait for the bartender to serve you. You feel a slight burning sensation on your shoulder, and as you reach out to touch the bandage, you groan as you feel them wet with blood.

You buy a whiskey, and pour three shot glasses full into your mouth, feeling your throat burn. You can barely feel the bruise now.

Preparing a fourth glass, you let out a mixed exclamation of surprise and pain when someone pulls you by the shoulder, turning you around.

- I know you! - says the unknown man, clearly drunk. You try to argue, but he starts shouting. - Yes, yes! You shot those guys!

He is starting to draw unwanted attention, and you really hope that everyone is too drunk to notice anything. Before you can push him away, someone pulls him off you.

You watch in shock as Wanda lands a clean punch to the man's jaw, and he staggers for a few seconds before falling onto a table. As he falls, chaos ensues and suddenly people start fighting among themselves. You always hated bar fights. Wanda quickly pulls you out and you both duck and dodge a thrown chair just before you walk out the door.

- Thanks for that, I guess. - You tell her, letting yourself be pulled toward the horses by the hand.

Pietro and Monica are already there, waiting for you. You notice that Pietro seems almost shy around the other woman, and you make a mental note to tease him about this at another time.

- Let's go before you cause a second shooting in this place. - Wanda says, and she gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, which leaves you with a tingling sensation.

- It's good to see you, by the way. - You say to Monica as soon as you mount the Knight's cell. Monica smiles at you, saying that it was very good to see you too.

- Race to camp? - suggests Pietro, and you all exchange mischievous glances before you speed up the gallop of your horses. Your laughter mingles with the wind as you ride at high speed.

Pietro won the race, typical you thought. Since he was a child, he was as fast on foot as he was on horseback. But even though you lost, you enjoyed the ride, laughing with your friends as you dismounted from your horses. Wanda and Monica entered the camp first, and you and Pietro snuck out the back, not wanting to be seen running away from punishment. You were very lucky that Potts believed you were just playing fight at the far end of the creek, as you and Pietro used to do when you were kids.

You walked around the camp, feeling extremely tired, and then you remembered that you hadn't really rested for a long time. Sighing, you found a space under a tree high enough to provide some shadow, and sat down. Putting your hat in front of your face, you thought about closing your eyes for a moment.

Feeling a gentle pressure on your feet, you were startled awake. Blinking in confusion at the dark, you realized that your hat was on your face. Removing it as you let out a yawn, you looked around in confusion as you realized that you had been asleep for a few hours, judging by the color of the sky, which already signaled sunset.

Nat smiled at you as she watched you adjust to your surroundings, and she offered her hand to help you stand up.

- You have a bed, you know. - She teased, and you just gave her a corner smile, wiping some of the grass off your pants.

- I was just going to take a nap. - You retorted as you walked towards your hut, Nat not following you, as you noticed the bucket full of fish she was carrying.

- A six-hour nap. - She teases, drawing a quick laugh from you. She turns in the opposite direction, dumping the bucket on Thor's cart, who is the one who usually skins the animals that arrive at the camp. You go into your tent, looking for some clean clothes.

You don't smell so bad, but you decide to take a bath anyway, after all you have been in a fight today. You remember to grab your new jacket before you leave for the deeper part of the stream, where everyone usually bathes.

Arriving at the edge of the creek, you leave your clothes on the high part of the grass, so they don't get wet, and begin to undress. You are already without your boots and blouse, ready to unbutton your pants when Pietro pushes you into the water.

- Really? - You exclaim in a mixture of irritation and humor, while he laughs. You think he is an idiot, but you laugh too.

Pietro pulls his own shirt over his head, and then quickly takes off his pants and shoes. He takes a few steps back and then runs, jumping into the creek, and splashing water everywhere on impact. You laugh as he pretends to drown.

- Since when do you shower often, now? - You tease him by getting out of the water to take off your wet pants. Pietro pretends to laugh.

- I'm a very clean boy, if you ask me. - He retorts, splashing water in his face.

You pretend to agree, grimacing. He rolls his eyes at you. You assume a suggestive expression, and nod for him to look away. He laughs, but turns away so that you can remove your underwear.

It was common for you to shower with other members of the team, especially with those who grew up with you: Wanda, Pietro, Monica and Nat. Much because you had been doing this since you were children. Besides that, living in an outlaw camp, it was all about sharing. It was funny to think that if you were not who you are, or if someone from the outside saw the life you were leading, you would probably be forced to marry Pietro now. It was nice to have that level of intimacy with someone, but you can't help but think that it wasn't the same showering with Pietro, as it was with Wanda. Everything was different with Wanda, but it was also the same. You couldn't explain it.

You become quiet as you get lost in your thoughts, and Pietro splashes some water on your face, causing you to let out an irritated exclamation.

- You were making that strange face again. - He jokes, while lowering himself into the water. You only realize that he is taking off his own underwear when he throws the recently removed, completely soaked item onto the grass.

- What face?

- your "I'm overthinking things" face. - He explains with an amused expression.

- I don't know what you're talking about. - You retort, looking away, he rolls his eyes, and you are silent again. You rub some of the soap you brought on your body before handing it to Pietro.

- I reckon you think too much. - He grumbles, and you let out a wry laugh.

- It's kind of the function of our heads, you know.

He laughs as he rinses his hair.

- I meant that you don't have to do this. - He says. - You can just act, you know.

- No, Pietro. I don't know. - You grumble, not really understanding what he was saying. He dips his head in the creek to clean the soap, and then walks away from you, leaving the soap on top of the little wooden box where it is usually kept.

- I mean that if you keep thinking about what you have to do, you'll miss the chance to do something. - He says, coming back to you. - If there is something you really want to do, just do it. Don't think about it so much, because when you make that expression, I know you're finding a thousand reasons not to do what you want to do.

- What if I want to punch you in the face? - You tease him, feeling nervous about the direction of the conversation. Pietro laughs at your attempt to divert the subject.

- As if you needed to think about it. - He says, grumbling, and then he assumes that serious expression, but his eyes are tender. - I think you need to tell her how you feel. Wanda will be pleased to hear it.

You look away just as he says this, your cheeks flushing. And then you almost fall back when you hear Wanda's voice:

- I will be pleased to hear what?

The girl asks in a curious and suggestive tone of voice, Pietro looks at his sister with amusement. And you look away very quickly when you see her unbuckle her dress.

Nat is also with her, and helps her take off her corset, while you stand in the middle of the stream, too interested in the water.

- Now, little sister, you know it's very rude to meddle in other people's affairs, don't you? - Pietro joked, and Wanda laughed.

- It becomes my business when you speak on my behalf, doesn't it? - She retorted, as she turned to thank Nat for helping her out of her dress. - Besides, it's not as if we have secrets from each other.

- I was just telling Y/N that we should do something together. All of us, like when we were children. - You could never get tired of Pietro's innate ability to lie so blatantly. - She suggested we go to the theater, and I said that since you had never been, you would be pleased to know.

Wanda looked at Pietro with a slight suspicion, probably wondering if she actually believed his words. But then she smiled.

- Yeah, I'd be very pleased indeed. - She jokes, and looks at you. She frowns when she notices that you are staring down, playing with your fingers with a certain nervousness. She can't tell what's bothering you, and concentrates on taking off her own dress.

-Of course, little sister. - Pietro says in a suggestive tone, and walks over to you again, standing beside you and putting his arm around your shoulders. - We both know very well that you would love a date...

- Pietro, you're naked, get out of here. - You interrupt him, pushing him in the stomach. He laughs, stumbling to the side with your shove. Wanda and Nat laugh a little, you don't notice the redness in Wanda's face.

Nat and Wanda join you at the creek next. You can't help but feel hyperconscious in Wanda's presence, so you turn away, counteracting the energy that seems to pull you toward her.

- I think I saw Potts bake you a cake earlier. - Nat commented as she grabbed the soap left on the grass. She was very comfortable with her own body, and did not mind showing it to the rest of you. Not that any of you were going to look at her maliciously, but you had to admit that it was at least an image to get used to, breasts swaying in front of you. It was not something you saw often.

- I think I'll try to save some. - You say, and looking at the confused and curious expressions of your friends, you add, - For Bruce, and Carol.

Your friends look away quickly, all assuming an almost sad posture. But Wanda looks at you tenderly.

- They will get better, soon, you know. - She comments, and you look at her, trying to believe her words. - Potts says that Carol's fever has gone down since Maria and Monica returned.

- I think if that happened to me, I would want my wife by my side too. - Pietro commented and you nodded in agreement. And then he took on a mischievous look. - By the way, since Carol improved by seeing her family, maybe Nat should visit Bruce. That might cheer him up.

Nat blushed at the insinuation and jumped towards Pietro, who ran away from her attempts to hit him, while she laughed. You and Wanda laughed at the scene.

- You were trying to get beaten up that whole time, weren't you, boy? - Shouted Nat as she chased after him, Pietro was lucky that running had always been his greatest skill, you thought as you looked at Nat's angry expression. He was confident enough to dodge and still throw water at the girl, which seemed to irritate her even more. You laughed at the interaction, but suddenly realized that while they were playing, you were alone with Wanda. Without clothes.

You turned your face slowly to look at her, watching her loose red hair cascade against her neck. The sun was very low now, and the light made her even more beautiful. You swallowed hard as she turned her face to you, the ghost of her laughter still on her lips.

- One of these days Pietro is going to get a real beating. - Wanda jokes and you blink, trying to stop staring. It takes a moment, but you laugh at the joke.

- One of these days Pietro is gonna get real beaten up. - Wanda jokes and you blink, trying to stop staring. It takes a moment, but you laugh at the joke.

- If he's lucky, it won't be Nat. - You reply in the same tone, and Wanda nods in agreement. She starts rubbing soap on your arms, and you try not to stare.

- You look distracted, almost oblivious. - She says, and you look away, watching Nat finally catch up to Pietro, jumping on top of him and knocking him into the water. You hope they don't drown.

- Why is everyone telling me this? - you retort in an amused tone, Wanda smiles.

- Because it is the truth.

You look at her expecting her to say something else, but she just lathers her hair a little, pushing it to the side. Your gaze has moved down to the collarbone that was once covered by her hair, now exposed. Your brain seems to shut down and you can't look away even when she looks at you, a shy smile at the corner of her lips.

Pietro lets out a shout between laughs, and you are startled, turning your head to look. He had climbed up a high rock to get away from Nat, who was circling around to catch up with him. You looked away when you noticed his exposed intimacy in the air.

And then you almost choked when you looked forward again: Wanda, who before had been with her chest completely submerged in water, had stood up and her breasts were right in front of you. She was looking at Pietro, laughing, the movement made her chest jiggle a little and you felt your face get very warm.

You stumble backwards, feeling your heart racing. Determining that you had reached the limit of nudity for the day, you turned around, leaving the creek. As you moved, Wanda turned her head to you quickly, asking if you were all right. With the image of Wanda's abundant breasts in your mind, you just nodded your agreement without looking at her, hurrying to put on your clothes as quickly as possible. You didn't notice Wanda's flushed face as she watched your naked back.

Properly dressed, you grumbled that you were going to wait for them at the party, and left, finally breathing normally once you were in the area of the cabins. Steve frowned at your reddened face, but you hurried to the campfire area before he asked questions you didn't want to answer.

You only came out of your tent when your breathing and heartbeat were normal again. The images of Wanda's breasts were still in some corner of your mind, but you pushed them away and tried to smile when Steve approached you.

He began to tell stories of his army days, and you tried to pay attention. Peggy and Potts listened intently, and Peggy laughed as she remembered the shared memories, since she and Steve served in the same squadron.

Letting your gaze wander around the camp, you stared at Carol's tent for a second before deciding to go there. Your companions were too distracted by their own conversation to notice you leave.

You opened the tent carefully, and the interior was a little dark, so it took a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the surroundings. Carol was lying on a stretcher, and you were glad to find her awake while she listened to Maria read something attentively. The two women smiled at you when they saw you, and you almost apologized for interrupting the moment, but seeing the tenderness in their eyes, you preferred to believe that you were not disturbing them.

- Hi. - You greeted and stood in the doorway, awkwardly. Maria smiled and stood up, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before leaving, giving you and Carol a bit of privacy.

- Come give me a hug, birthday girl. - Carol asked in a playful tone. She looked better.

You rushed over, giving her a quick hug, not wanting to squeeze her too tightly, for fear of hurting her.

- I heard that you got better. - You commented, sitting on the edge of the bed. - I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, but Pepper didn't want anyone here.

Carol giggled weakly.

- Oh yes, she said I needed to rest.

- Maria was the only one who could come in. Even Pepper wouldn't deny her that after weeks of not seeing you.

The blonde nodded in agreement, a shy smile on her lips. You were quiet for a moment, and as you watched her like this, looking so weak and tired, you felt your stomach clench with guilt and anger.

- Sorry about that, Carol. - The words escaped your mouth quickly, and you looked at the floor, feeling a wave of shame in your chest. Carol frowned, and looked at you with confusion. - If I had been a little faster, you wouldn't be hurt, and you would be with Maria...

Carol held up her hands quickly, asking you to stop apologizing tenderly, and you felt your eyes water, but you obeyed her.

- I can't believe you've been thinking all this time that it was your fault. - She said, and lifted one of her hands to caress your face. - Sometimes services go wrong, child. In fact, it can happen quite often. - She tried to joke, but you didn't smile, and she turned back to a serious expression, trying to reassure you.

You blinked, looking at her expecting her to be angry, but found only tenderness in her eyes.

- We are your family, Y/N. When we are out there, we protect each other. And sometimes that will get us hurt, but we keep going anyway. - She speaks as she looks you in the eye, her fingers tucking some of your hair behind your ear. - You were so brave when we left Armadillo. Helping Bruce when Fury was shot. You could have gone along with the plan, but you knew something was wrong.

You closed your eyes quickly, the memories hitting you with intensity. Carol wiped the tears that streamed down your face. You tried to push the images of Fury being shot away, but they seemed to stick in your head. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes, meeting Carol's tender expression.

- I miss him, Carol. - You confess, and she nods.

- I miss him too, Y/N. - She says, and pulls you close, hugging you tight. - He would be proud of you.

You hug for a few moments before you let go, now sitting on the bed next to her. Carol plays with the fingers of your hand before speaking.

- You know, I think Fury's only regret is not going to be at your wedding. - She jokes, and you smile sadly, blushing a little.

- I think he would love to organize something like that. - You remark, and she smiles. You fall silent again, until she lets out an exclamation.

- I have something for you!

- What? - You ask in confusion, and then she moves on the bed and reaches for the bedside table. She pulls out a small package.

- I was happy to hear that Maria managed to retrieve this from my things before she left New Austin. - Carol said and then she held the package out to you. You gave her a grateful look before accepting it.

You carefully unpacked the box, and let out a sigh of contentment as you read the title of the book, "Otis Miller and the Lady with the Black Heart. You loved that collection of books, and after the Armadillo fire, you had lost every volume you had. You thanked Carol as you flipped through the pages quickly, she laughed at your expression completely focused on the present. She knew how much you loved adventure books.

Carol adjusted her own posture on the bed, sitting up completely, you frowned with concern, but she just smiled assuring you that everything is fine. The movement caused the blanket to lift off her body a little, and your eyes were quickly drawn down to the tip of the large bandage on her belly.

Noticing your gaze, Carol gave you a weak smile.

- Don't worry about this. - She spoke, and then lifted the edge of her blouse. She let you run your fingers over the bandage.

- Does it hurt too much? - You asked worriedly, but she nodded and added:

- Not anymore. I just feel a little itchy. - She admitted.

You remembered a few weeks ago, the image of Carol stumbling toward the wagon where you were standing, a huge bloodstain on her belly. Bucky caught her before she hit the ground. You couldn't sleep properly for days.

- If you can shoot, Steve will want you at the bank job. - You joked and Carol laughed.

- I think Maria is going to tie me to this bed for a while. - She comments and you raise your eyebrows.

- I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, Danvers. - You joke and she laughs, her cheeks flushing, pushing you lightly on the shoulder.

- You're hanging out too much with Pietro. - She grumbles and you shrug your shoulders. - Speaking of him, or more precisely, his sister. - She starts and you look away, letting out a sigh and dreading the direction of this conversation. - Last time I asked you, you said that, what were the exact words, "you had great appreciation for her friendship and her company."

Carol teased you about your shameful confession last year, after you had had too many beers and she asked you why you didn't ask Wanda out on a date. She laughed at your sulky face when she debauched your choice of words.

- Suddenly everyone is comfortable nagging me about this. - You murmured, and Carol wiped away tears of laughter before turning to you, an expression suggesting that it was obvious the reason why, but noticing your confused face, she added:

- Are you really oblivious to your displays of affection, or are you pretending to be so that you don't have to deal with the commitment? - Carol asks with an expression that plays with seriousness and teasing. You look away quickly, feeling your face heat up. The question was a very good one actually, but before you could sink into your own thoughts, the blonde next to you nudged you, looking at you with amusement. - You don't have to overthink this. I'm not repressing you, you know. I don't think you mean any harm.

- What if you are right? - You let it slide, without really thinking about it. - What if I'm afraid to deal with my feelings? - Carol frowned at you and you bowed your head. - I just... I don't know what I would do if she rejected me. I would have made things awkward between us, and then I would have lost her friendship. And then things got weird with Pietro too, and...

- My God, girl, breathe. - Interrupted Carol, holding you by the shoulders. She had a curious expression. - Even if Wanda rejects you, which in my opinion seems ridiculous and unlikely, you would still be friends. You've known each other for a long time, Y/N. It's not like she's going to leave the gang because of this.

Carol jokes last, but you are startled by the possibility. She rolls her eyes at your panicked face, and lets out a giggle.

- That would never happen. - She assures. - And you don't have to confess anything you're not ready to say. You can wait until things are normal again.

- It's not as if I haven't waited until now. - You mumble, but it's low enough that Carol doesn't understand. You just shake your head to signal that it's not important.

- I've kept you here long enough. - She says after a moment. - Go enjoy your party a little.

You smile at her, and thank her for the gift again before getting up to leave.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #Land of Thieves #wanda maximoff imagines #red dead redemption au #wanda x reader #wandaxreader

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remscorner · 3 years

Text

False Manipulations (Sebastian x F!Reader)

(A bit of info: this is a fantasy AU where the characters all live in a large town named 'Honocrotalus', name for pelican. Though the layout of the town is not the same from the game, it's much larger.

(There are a few OC's in here but only background characters for the plot)

Narrators POV // 12:00 pm

Y/n strolled through town swiftly, her footsteps barely emitting noise.

She'd come across many 'wanted' banners of her masked face throughout her journey and it was getting tiring.

Ever since she was a child, she'd always been on the wrong side of the family.

At least she thought so?

After years of mental, emotional and physical abuse, Y/n had ran away from a family in which kidnapped her many years ago.

This was the result of having to steal and rob from others in order to keep alive.

It all went downhill from there, she even had the blood of the innocent resting in her hands, using her own blade.

Fortunately the public hadn't known what she'd looked like, nor did they figure out her real name.

The only description being the nickname 'Rabbit' and 'a slim figure wearing an oversized black cloak covering her clothing beneath and a white rabbit mask'.

Y/n never thought the word 'slim' would be a fit description over herself...

At least in her eyes.

But of course, being on the run across the entire country had her starving a bit.

Her stomach growled and she cringed at the soft ache in her belly before sighing and staring at an abandoned sales cart and smirking.

She swiftly stole three buns off the top and stuffed them inside her cloak that had held her mask.

Since nobody knew what she looked like, Y/n was free to roam around town without a care in the world.

"Guards! Draw your swords!" A large voice echoed down the streets, many had crowded around the commotion.

Y/n pushed through in order to find three of her old bandit friends she hadn't seen in years.

One being just a child at age 13.

Her eyes widened at they fought their way through the kingdoms guards, two of the three secretly getting away while one had stayed to hold off the men.

Y/n's teeth gritted softly and she pulled up her hood, quickly putting on her mask before jumping over the crowd to help fight off the imperial guards.

Her sword drew from her scabbard and had stroked at ones shoulder before throwing it back to another right beneath his ripcage.

"N/n!?" (Nickname) The bandit yelled in surprise, obvious struggle hid between her teeth.

"Hey November! You better get to Molly and Ellie now! I'll hold them off don't worry! Elles gotten so big!" She grinned, reminiscing back to when the dirty blonde was only five.

"You sure you got this!?" November yelled in between pants and Y/n nodded with a giggle.

She smiled gratefully before leaving the masked killer to fend for herself.

She was strong enough from fighting off many in the past to get through a couple more guards before one had struck her shoulder from behind.

Y/n yelped and many were shocked to hear how feminine the murderer had sounded.

They'd been looking for her for years and they'd only now, found out she was most definitely a girl.

Just as Y/n had tried to compose her stance, another guard had broken skin right above her knee and she'd looked down in surprise before her hands were pulled behind her back.

"Shit..."

____

Currently at the Wright's castle, lunch was being held awkwardly in the large dining area of the palace.

And yet, with shock sat Sebastian next to his half sister which he'd held a different last name to, just like the rest of his family.

Sebastian McCarthy, the poor isolated boy was different and despite his family's disapprovals, wanted to catch the wanted Rabbit himself.

"What do you mean Rabbits been caught!?" He stood up from his seat, the chair scraping the floor with a trip.

One of Sebastians two knights, Sam, had barged into the dining room with the news just before.

"The other guards are bringing them to the castle now! Your majesty!?" Sam yelled in a panic, staring over to Demetrius.

He'd been king for years now and even had the family's name changed to Wright after marrying the queen, Robin.

Of course Sebastian had kept his previosus surname...

Demetrius nodded with a frown before the family had told up to meet Rabbit at the enterance hall.

"Sebastian I know you've wanted to meet him for a while now but please just go to your room" Robin said in a pleading tone.

"I'm staying here"

"Why don't you just listen to your mother-"

Just as Demetrius was about to scold his stepson for his disruptive behaviour, the castle doors opened and three guards were escorting a young woman with h/l, h/c hair and e/c eyes.

She wore an oversized cloak in which the hood was pulled down to reveal a pretty face.

They'd torn off the cloak to the ground, showing the rest of her features.

She wore a white oversized blouse where the top three buttons had been undone, black pants and a belt where the rabbit mask and an empty scabbard was held.

"Who's this?" Demetrius scoffed, belittling the knights intentions.

Sebastian slowly walked closer to the girl with a curious expression.

She stared back at him, apathetically.

"This is the Rabbit, sir.." a knight to the left of

Y/n said anxiously.

Y/n shot him an irritated glare, eyes catching Robin who eyed her carefully.

"A girl..?" The ginger uttered softly, Sebastian began to grow angry.

"I've been looking for a girl this entire time!?" He exclaimed and Robin let out a snort before turning away from the odd stares shot her way.

It had to sound pretty weird coming from Sebastian who hardly had the interest in girls.

Neither did he have an interest for boys, he had never cared for such silly distractions like love.

"This is ridiculous!" Demetrius scoffed, it was the first time Sebastian could agree with his stepfather.

"Aw shut up old man, I don't wanna hear from you either.. let the prince talk.." Y/n grinned flirtatiously, throwing eyes to Sebastian who'd eyed the sharper canines she'd had compared to his own.

If he'd known any better, he would've thought she was a vampire...

"Wh-" He stepped back and Demetrius yelled out.

"You'll be exiled faster if you wish!"

"Hey Princey, what's it like living in this place? I'm pretty sure you know but I've stolen and sold a couple things from here!"

Y/n ignoring Demetrius, instead spoke to Sebastian with love eyes casually staring into his, she was always good at manipulating others with her deceiving looks.

"You know I've always wanted to see you up close like this, what's it like seeing me so up close?"

"Watch it" Sebastian glared daggers into her head, she snickered softly.

It was amusing seeing such anger fuel up in a bit like him.

"So aggressive..." Y/n said with a smirk, she pouted softly, her stance lightly swaying.

He sneered at her, he felt as if she was mocking him, teasing him for his issues with his anger, his issues with her.

Is she crazy? Does she know who she's talking to?

"Take her to the cells" Demetrius ordered, Y/n sighed with an irritated look before she was led down into the deeper parts of the castle, ones only high ranked criminals would get to experience.

Robin had locked eyes with her as she passed by and Y/n politely nodded to her with a blank expression.

Y/n had left her pondering to herself, intrigued with the killer.

"Strange girl..."

____

"She's in there... be careful Seb, she's got a couple screws loose in there" Sam warned as his prince friend neared the cells, twirling his index finger around with the target of his head.

Sebastian only nodded back before leaving Sam behind him.

It was dark down in the cells, the room was lightly dimmed from torches which gave off the impression the room was brightened with a yellow hue.

Sebastian took a stop in front of the girls cell, the only cell which had been occupied really.

She sat in the corner on a thin, cold bed, her eyes closed.

He could hear her humming to a song he couldn't recognize.

She sat leg straight out, one bending up as she rested her arm on her knee.

Y/n knew he was there, she knew he was there a long time ago.

"Rabbit" Sebastian said, he held his ground.

Chin up, back straight..

"Hello, Prince" she grinned lazily.

Y/n opened her eyes, watching as his broad silhouette shifted in the light behind his figure.

She could see his brows furrow at the nickname.

Sebastian kept his guard, she was dangerous, he knew.

But something about her made him so intrigued with her mindset.

Why had she chosen to kill so many, why kill the innocent.

Though he couldn't care less for the village, seeing his mother so distraught with her people being mercilessly murdered, he had to admit, felt terrible.

He became obsessed with catching the culprit, the bastard who hurt his mother so deeply.

Sebastian wanted to do everything to torture and question the murderer as much as they did with the towns people.

Unfortunately, he didn't know what to do with the girl now.

Seb didn't expect a woman to come striding in, not that he was expecting much of a man either.

He was really expecting more of a monster than the pretty sight in front of him.

"Wanna join me?" Y/n asked, pulling a plate of mashed potatoes and bread towards herself, given to her by Sam as an order.

Though she was cruel and unstable, she wanted to keep her healthy.

The 'she' in question being Robin.

"I already ate" Sebastian frowned, he didn't expect her to be so calm in a situation like being locked up.

"Stay with me then? It's lonely down here" she pouted softly.

Y/n didn't miss the look of disgust on his face, it nearly made her laugh how shocked he was.

Maybe if she was still a kid, she would be hurt by the expression the prince wore.. but now it was more amusement than it ever was with anybody else.

Yoba was it satisfying watching innocent humans like Sebastian grow angry with her.

It was a sign that showed she'd successfully gotten under his skin.

"You'll eat, then I'll join you.. but I won't be here for company" Sebastian growled, Y/n nearly laughed at the mans attempt at being threatening.

It was hard to be threatened when you've killed many...

"I'll make sure to enjoy whatever you'll do to me then"

#sdv #sdv sebastian #gaming #stardew fanfic #stardew sebastian #stardew valley #stardew #stardew sam #sdv fanfic #stardew au

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thebadchoicemachine · 4 years

Text

SBI HadesTown AU That Lives In My head Rent Free

(in fact I probably pay it to live there)

Links at the end under the cut.

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Starring:

• Dream, George, and Sapnap as The Fates • Philza as Hermes • Wilbur as Persephone • Technoblade as Hades • Tommy as Eurydice

and

• Tubbo as Orpheus

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Changes to the story -

Instead of spouses, Wilbur and Techno are estranged brothers.

Instead of lovers, Tommy and Tubbo are best friends.

The focus is still on restoring balance to the world but through familiar and platonic love instead of romantic. Also, the reason the world is so bad is a more social crisis (some people work too much while others can’t work at all) instead of a natural one (the seasons being wack.)

It takes place during a seething summer drought rather than a frozen cropless winter but its still the same tune of spring/fall disappearing because the the world being out of tune.

Character Changes -

+ Philza is an old god. He’s not weaker nor stronger than Wilbur/Techno, just fills up a very different role. He’s god of history, of legends, of simple stories and narration. He’s very human compared to most gods, some theorize perhaps he straight up IS human in some way shape or form. He lives a human life to meet people and collect their lives and stories and appreciate them. He can’t really interfere as more than a mortal man but still just tries to give as many happy endings as he can.

+ Tommy’s a scrappy lost child. His problem is similar to Eurydice but a little inverted. Rather than learning to trust people he needs to learn to value them. He’s no issue with interacting with people and enjoying their help/company but he’s a tendency to use them. He doesn’t believe they’ll stick around so he doesn’t bother caring about them.

+ Tubbo is also an abandoned child. Unlike Tommy he grew up in one spot, although still homeless. Philza found him camping in a crate box behind his station and gave him a job and a bed. He’s pretty much exactly like Orpheus, optimistic, sees the world for what it could be instead of what it is, but maybe spends a little too much time looking forward and not around.

+ Technoblade is basically the god of work and motivation. His problem is generally the same as Hades’ in that he misses his family and is too busy working and building security for what he wants to get what he wants. He misses his brother so much he’s hardend himself to the reasons they’re apart so much in the first place.

+ Wilbur is basically the god of play and rest. In this AU, instead of Hades, Persephone’s role is the biggest reason the world is out of wack. His problem is that he doesn’t face his problems. As the god of such frivolous things as music, games, rest, etc. he is (feels) weak and useless. He’s jealous of Techno and how needed he is so Wilbur retreats away to somewhere he feels needed and wanted, entertaining miserable people. He’s stayed away for longer and longer amounts of time, not realizing his distracting them from their troubles (inadvertently preventing them from fixing them) is a reason they’re so miserable in the first place. All he can do is have a good time so he’s begun forcing it every second of every day and ignoring his brother in the meantime. He needs to learn that he CAN do good, people NEED breaks and fun, but recklessly enforcing it only enforces what he fears, that he’s a liability.

So, the main problem is a cycle the brothers have spiraled into:

Techno does obviously important things (stirring progress and improvement) and Wilbur feels bad, unimportant, and like a burden.

Wilbur leaves Techno to go distract himself/play with the humans.

Wilbur becomes useless and detrimental without Technoblade there to balance him out.

Techno works even harder, becoming empty and cold without Wilbur there to balance him out, trying to get enough work done so Wilbur won’t have to worry and will come back.

Wilbur sees Techno working so hard and shies away even more so as not to disturb his brother’s important work.

Technoblade has to basically force Wilbur to stay with him now, making it more work.

Wilbur sees Technoblade as both too important for him and now generally unappealing as unnecessary effort. Besides, he’d probably just get in the way.

Technoblade now sees Wilbur as just another part of his endless job. Keep people working, keep things improving, keep the numbers going up, try to keep Wilbur here. Its become work for the sake of work instead of work to the sake of rest.

So even when they’re together neither is relaxed enough to balance the other, both are distant.

Wilbur’s become too carefree, he ignores Technoblade and drops anything that seems challenging, including reconciliation and self-examination. He’s still just playing, even when with Technoblade.

Technoblade’s become too obsessed, focusing more on how to get and keep his brother with him than on being with his brother. The work has become meaningless without the end goal that Wilbur provides. A self sustaining cycle of labor for more labor’s sake.

Now the humans are suffering because they find themselves trapped in an unbalanced cycle of being either incapable of work or incapable of play.

Thematic notes:

- The dancers in the station during the first half are Skeppy, Antfrost, Bad, Eret, and Puffy.

- The workers (the dancers in the second half) consist of Niki, Fundy, Quackity, Ranboo, and Awsam.

- Tommy is implied to vaguely know/be brotherly to Techno and Wilbur, this is partially how Techno convinces him to leave and go work for him.

- Likewise, Philza has a few lines about feeling sorry about how Techno and WIlbur have ended up (implying he took some part in raising them) and already knows Tommy when he enters (implying he’s been a dad to helped Tommy out before.

- Technoblade is less malicious than Hades, more just cold and apathetic. In a way, he thinks he’s helping by pulling Tommy away from Tubbo. He, like Wilbur, believes that work is good so more work must be better, even if you’ve nothing to really work towards. At the end he listens to the fates because needs to figure out how to let Tommy go without undoing either all of Wilbur’s power or all of his.

- Tubbo’s song has a bigger impact on fauna than floral, specifically insects. His first song brings out bees, butterflies, and moths that Tommy goes all star eyed for because pretty bugs but more importantly, living things that don’t want to hurt him!

- Instead of a flower Tommy gets a big beautiful orange moth (named Clementine) that hides in the back of his coat neck whenever Technoblade is near. He remembers in ‘Flowers’ when he goes to wipe some sweat from his neck but its Clementine and she flies around him while he sings. (I thought that’d be much prettier than him just holding her like Eurydice holds the flower.)

- During ‘Living it Up On Top’ Wilbur dances specifically with Philza (who greets him very much like a father might greet a son who’s been away for a long time) and Tommy (who he teases and ruffles his hair a lot).

- Wilbur does drugs instead of alcohol. He... he makes a lot of drugs so I thought this would be an appropriate swap. Also it’s really funny to me that he sings Our Lady Of The Underground (or, Brother To The Underground) just completely stoned; handing out weed and shit to the workers.

- Instead of a mine Hadestown (Technotown? Technoville?) is a farm in a giant glass case built way up high. Instead of going through the dark that challenge is Tubbo has to climb up its side to avoid the train. Its an unnatural and unwelcoming greenhouse. Everything grows in lines but they’re mismatched and overrun with thorny weeds. Everything is grey and tough and flavorless. There’s so much dust and dirt being kicked up it’s hard to breathe and see. The workers are using various gardening tools during the beats instead of swinging a pickaxe. Half will sharpen while the other half swings (tilling the ground/cutting weeds), it makes a real nice schwing/thunk mix sound.

- During ‘Word To The Wise’ George sings (“if you tell them no you’re a heartless man”) Sapnap sings (“if you let ‘em go you’re a spineless king”) and Dream sings (”here’s a little tip”) and (“men are fools, men are frail”)

- Tubbo still looks back during ‘Doubt Comes In’ because he's scared of Techno and feels bad about himself (“Who am I? Who am I to think that he would follow me into the blazing heat again”). Techno, Wilbur, and Philza try their best to take care of them but it’s still a tragic ending.

- Tommy and Tubbo may or may not become (very sad and minor) gods. Unofficially and not in the story, but still... maybe. If they WERE, hypothetically, they’d be a very tragic pair. Tubbo would help mend relationships and guid people towards good advice while Tommy would help catch/ignore/cut out bad ones. Always working together, never together.

Lyrical Changes

> Pronouns are changed, obviously.

> Techno and Wilbur sing “brother” instead of “lover.”

> During ‘The Wedding Song’ (The Friendship Song, I do not care if it’s childish, Wedding is replaced with Friendship) They sing each other’s names instead of “lover.” (Tubbo, tell me if you can...////Tommy, when I sing my song...)

> Anytime they’re complaining about the cold winter replace it with a hot summer

> Tommy’s lines are much sharper. He never loses his edge with Tubbo. Instead of him remembering him and going “my best friend, Tubbo” he remembers and says something more along the lines of “that fucking idiot, Tubbo” but he’s say it with a quivering smile and bittersweet tears in his eyes. Harsh in words not in tone.

> Wilbur still pours a glass for a toast during ‘Living It Up On Top’ but the rest of the time he’s smoking something instead of drinking. (Who gives breaks when the work is hard?//That's right, Wilbur Soot!//Who makes the music? Who’s your bard?//(Wilbur Soot!)//Thank you//Who makes a rough life fun again, in spite of a pig//(You do!)//Who’s the most awaited gig? Eh? Wilbur Soot, that’s who!)

> When Wilbur shows up during ‘Chant’ he complains about how cold and dark it is. (Colder than a tundra) Techno explains it away as having set up shades/coolers to counter the glare from the sun through greenhouse glass and how he did it to protect/comfort Wilbur. (Brother when you feel that chill, it’s my protection from the kill, its my protection that i’ve built for you.)

> In the Chant Reprise the workers are singing about why they’re working if they can never enjoy the security and safety they keep making. Technoblade, instead of telling him to buy Tommy’s love, tells him to make himself needed. He, instead of warning Tubbo about Tommy leaving, scolds Tubbo for being too light and fluffy and spinelessly letting Tommy go. He scolds him for trying to take Tommy away, back into uselessness and empty fluff, when he’s found a good purpose because clearly Tubbo wasn’t point enough.

> Philza’s still the narrator, but diegetically his lyrics show more clearly that he knows everyone in the story already. I really like the idea of him giving Tubbo advice on making friends that gets shown in ‘Come Home With Me’

> When Tubbo sings about Techno, instead of singing about minework, he’ll sing things like ((from the second stanza of Epic II) “Technoblade, king//of power and pain//of a hard days work//that never ends//and for half of the year when Wilbur’s away//the strain and the stress just won’t give way//he thinks of his brother, light and carefree//and is taken in a rage of obligation and need//to ensure wants are met and safe//so there will be time for play//so his bother//his brother comes home)

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This post all started because I was thinking of Tubbo singing the “La lala laaa” that was originally Wilbur’s song.

Also, I realize this entire AU is just one big punch in the gut to Philza, like, “HEY, ALL YOUR SONS ARE SCREWED UP, NOW SING ABOUT IT.”

#drugs tw #ask to tag #sleepy bois inc #sbi AU #sleepy bois inc AU #Philza #technoblade #Wilbur soot #tommy innit #tubbo_#sbi + tubbo #sbi hadestown au

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flightrules · 4 years

Text

Which Kind Do You Want to Be?

Chapter 6: No Promises

Sometimes, a sleepless night is a good thing.

Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.

Previous chapters: I keep hearing tumblr suppresses posts with links. So, visit the pinned post on my blog or the same username on AO3.

Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.

Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.

Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet.

Supper is the same as the midday meal, cold rations washed down with tinny tasting water. "You eat like this all the time?"

"I try not to," he says. "He needs real food. I haven't had much chance to go shopping."

The child is sitting on your lap now, as you hold his little tray for him and he picks out bites to eat. He's seemed subdued ever since your game of chase went so wrong.

It's a bit of a balancing act to manage your own meal while keeping the tray steady and the little body balanced. But you turned down the man's offer to take him.

You should be careful about letting the child think there's something changing here, that you'll be a presence in his life.

It's just so nice to imagine, for a small moment, that you could be. That a child's laughter could be part of your world again.

There's not much conversation over the meal. You're tired and your body still has that vague achy feeling, like it isn't ready to forget getting thrown to your knees.

The ration trays get washed in the sink again, and then the child gets a bath in the sink again, too.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asks first. "He doesn't like the sonic shower. I think it's hard on his ears."

You stay at the table while he pushes his sleeves up past his elbows, pops the child into a mess of warm water and soap bubbles, and lets him splash around a bit. By the time the man lifts him out again, there are bubbles all across the counter and water on the floor. "I've told you not to do that," he says mildly as he wraps the child in a towel and, holding him in one arm, swipes a rag across the counter and then uses one foot to wipe the rag along the floor.

He crouches to pick the rag up again, a perfectly balanced movement with the child cuddled against his chest.

"I'll let you get him ready for bed," you say, getting up from the table and resisting the urge to go over there and melt yourself against this man. You are not his family, or the child's, and you need to remember it for yourself as much as for the little one.

The bedtime routine consists of a quiet, one-sided conversation, the man narrating all the little things they did today and the child cooing in response. You take the opportunity to use the ‘fresher while he’s busy in the little sleeping room, then spread out your bedroll, stuffing some clean clothes in a carry-sack to serve as a pillow. It's early, but you stretch out and close your own eyes, letting your back and shoulders rest flat against the blanket.

There's something comforting about his voice, the slight gravel in it, the way almost everything he tells the child is framed as "we." You've never been sure how much the child understands, but you hope he can at least hear how safe he is in this man's care.

You're almost asleep, yourself, by the time he gets to how he hurt you. "I made a mistake," he says, clear and matter-of-fact. "I'll always protect you, but that doesn't mean it's all right to hurt our friend. I want you to know we can trust her. Don't make the same mistake I did."

That's very sweet, you think drowsily. As if the tiny creature could do you any harm.

"Are you awake?"

You open your eyes to find he's standing a couple of meters away. Earlier today you might have thought that strange, but now you think, Right. No sudden moves.

"May I…" his voice trails off.

You sit up, making room for him to join you. And now it's your turn to ask, as he's left a careful few centimeters space between. "I'd like to touch you."

His voice is quiet, his usual confident tone sounding suddenly half strangled. "I'd like that."

You don't do it right away, though. You look at him, contemplating. There are curls falling over his forehead again. The scruff of beard he had yesterday is gone. Did he shave for you, or is that just something he does every few days? With the helmet covering his face all the time, he certainly wouldn't have to worry about looking neat.

Loose as it is, the shirt he's wearing does nothing to hide his solid-looking shoulders, and you've already seen the shape of his chest and waist from the t-shirt he had on this morning. Stars, that was so long ago.

You turn your body toward him and reach out, so slowly, to skim your hands over his hips and under his shirt, pushing the fabric up to bare the flat plane of his stomach, and then a little more so your hands are framing the bottom of his ribs. "Help me?" you say, meaning help me get your shirt off, but he's just staring at you, lips slightly parted, not moving at all.

"You tell me if you want me to stop," you remind him, and then get up onto your knees so you can lift his shirt further. The bruises from earlier remind you to move carefully, but you're able to shift your weight so it almost doesn't hurt to kneel.

He has dark hair across his chest. You resist the urge to run your thumb across one nipple, instead asking him more clearly to lift his arms so you can get the shirt over his head.

He does, now, taking over with a single smooth movement and then actually stopping to fold the thing and set it aside.

There's something about that that makes your heart hurt. That makes you think you could fall in love with him, if you had the opportunity to try.

You do finally have the chance to see what happens when you drag your teeth across his ribs. You start at his collarbone, lining kisses from neck to shoulder, then down over the muscles of his chest. As you do you can feel his breathing quicken, turning to a gasp as you go from soft kisses to the scrape of teeth. You should probably remind him to breathe but now you're tracing your tongue along a pale line of scar where, you realize, the beskar breastplate doesn't reach.

His hands on your shoulders stop you. He's gentle but firm, guiding your body back upright, giving you plenty of time to fight it if you want to.

You don't want to.

"Show me how to kiss you," he says.

"It takes practice." Kissing a new partner's mouth usually starts out clumsy and uncoordinated, until you find each other's rhythm.

"We have until morning," he says.

It is, indeed, uncoordinated at first. He's obviously got the general idea--you can't spend 40-something years in this galaxy without seeing what people do--but no idea how to actually do it. He's a quick learner, though, echoing back your movements until he's got the hang of it. And then that precision kicks in and he's got your mouth trapped beneath his, tongue at the corner of your lips and then gently opening you up to his warmth, and you're the one who's forgetting how to breathe.

It's new to him and it's been a while for you, and the two of you end up making out like teenagers for a while, his hand against your jaw and your fingers in his hair, and when you need to catch your breath you bury your head in his shoulder until gently insistent hands lift your face to his again.

What stops you is a small sound from the child. You might not even have noticed it, coming from behind the metal door, but he's already turning his head to listen. He kisses your forehead before getting up to trigger the controls.

The noises from the hammock sound like sobs.

"Hey," the man tells him, sitting on the edge of the mattress, leaning in to lay a hand over the little body. "Whatever it is, I'm here." He turns to you. "He cries in his sleep sometimes. Usually I sing to him."

"Then you should." You get up to go sit beside him on the floor and lean your head against his knee. It's the same lullaby you heard that first night on board the Razor Crest. He can barely carry a tune but that's all right, you don't know the melody anyway and you don't understand the words. You stay there for a while even after the child's cries have stopped, as he continues through a half-dozen verses, you resting against him and his hand against your hair.

More of the evening disappears into figuring out his body, into his hands finding confidence in how to touch your skin.

The last time someone touched you with such reverence, you were probably sixteen years old, trying new things for the first time with a boy you'd grown up with, whose body you'd seen change as you both slipped toward adulthood. He's long gone, that boy, not even buried, just lost in the ash that used to be your home.

Your shirt's off now, too, and he folded it for you, and you can't even explain why that makes you ache inside.

He's tracing your breasts with his fingertips, light against your skin but following every curve. He seems to know, by instinct maybe, to leave your nipples until they're aching for him to touch, and then to follow his fingers with his mouth, with his tongue and then lips and then, so very gently, with his teeth. He's got you panting, your fingers digging hard into his shoulder until you suddenly realize that's the side that was bothering him and you drop your hand.

He looks up at you, and it takes him a minute to find words. "What's wrong?"

You're slow to make sense, too. "You--you're hurt, I don't want to--"

He looks down at his own shoulder, the one you were working on together this morning. Then he's pulling you in to him, so very slow again and careful, until you're skin to skin against his body, your breasts pressed up against the muscle of his chest, his head bent down to yours. "Thank you," he says, and it's a whisper against your temple and then just the two of you breathing together for a while, the hum off the ship's engines the only other sound.

You know the shapes of the muscles on his back now. You've run your fingers along the grooves between them. You know now how his skin feels different over scars, and how the burn scar at his neck is different from the knife scar on his side.

You were surprised to find the small, circular bump of a contraceptive implant on his arm, and at first you looked at him in accusation. From what he’s told you, he shouldn’t have needed it. But he just shrugged. "When I swore the Creed," he said, "I swore I would care for any child I made. I've never been in a place to be able to care for a child." You could feel your eyebrows go up as you nodded toward his bunk, where the tiny being in his care was sleeping. "I'm still not," he said. "It seemed like a good idea, to make sure it couldn't happen."

He knows the most sensitive spot on your neck by now, and he knows the way you'll move your head if he kisses you there. He knows that if he runs his hands over your belly you'll jump at first, ticklish, but then lean into his touch if he uses a little more pressure. He's figured out what happens if he traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.

Right now you're kneeling behind him, one hand on his chest, one finger sliding over a stiffened nipple while the other hand traces the hair that trails down his abdomen to the waistband of his trousers. For the first time, you slide your fingertips beneath the fabric. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist and hold your arm still.

But he doesn't tell you to stop.

You tuck your chin over his shoulder and ask him if you should.

He doesn't answer. He's sitting up straighter, though, that uncomfortable posture you'd started to hope he'd left behind.

Carefully, you move your hands from his body, and his fingers slide from your wrist as you do. You shift around to face him.

Slow. You promised him slow.

Your own body is edging toward impatience. You've been wet for him for hours and, although you're not complaining about any of this so far, there's a sense of emptiness that your body is letting you know, in no uncertain terms, it would like him to fill.

You check in before you move next, get his permission to settle yourself back on his lap, knees to either side of his hips. It lets you press against the length of him through his trousers, and you find you're shivering as the most sensitive part of you connects there.

His voice is a vibration through your own chest as he says, "I can't."

You know you should let go, move back, but your muscles won't listen to your brain until he speaks again, until ingrained reflex takes over when he says the word "Stop."

He's keeping his hands to himself now, still breathing a little hard but keeping his body constrained. One hand clenches and then slowly opens, coming to rest at his side.

"If we keep going," he says, "I'm going to want you to stay."

Your heart skips for a second, and you're already thinking, yes.

"I can't let you stay." He's sitting so still. His fingers move again, what seems to be an involuntary tic. It's his right hand, the one that would reach for the blaster that's usually at his hip.

"I can't be distracted. If I had to choose between you and the child--"

He doesn't finish. You don't need him to. You reach over, slowly, slowly, and take his right hand. Slowly, you help him open those clenched fingers, and you place a kiss on his palm. "No promises," you remind him. And then, because there's nothing else you can say: "I'm leaving at Pavotha."

It's still so curious, getting to see his face. How sometimes his expressions are open and sometimes they're unreadable, like in all those years with the helmet on he's lost the ability to mirror certain feelings. Lost the muscle memory.

Right now, though, there's no mistaking that you're looking at pure gratitude.

"Do you still want to stop?" you ask him, and you're asking a little bit for him, but it's mostly because your body is longing to see the rest of his, to touch him in new places. To settle in against him, take his cock inside you, and move together until the rest of the galaxy disappears.

"No promises?" he says.

And, although your whole body is screaming at you not to say it, you tell him again: "Only that I'm leaving."

If you were planetside, it would be dawn by now. But here in the dimly lit hold, there's only the chrono to tell you it's near morning.

You're not looking at it though.

You're sitting on his lap again, legs around his waist and feet planted against the floor. His hands are on your hips. You showed him how this position works and now he's helping you move, bringing you down against him so his cock is buried deep inside you, holding you so there's pressure against your clit as he presses closer, then lifting your body so the length of him slides against your opening, setting every nerve on fire. You didn't teach him to pause sometimes, keeping your hips in place against him, and lean up to kiss you. He figured that out on his own.

He lasted longer than you might have expected the first time, when you drew his body over you and slow disappeared when he said "Are you sure?" and you said "Yes." And although you guided him in gently, carefully, neither one of you could stop after that. You bit your own lip so hard, trying not to cry out and wake the child, that there was blood on both your faces by the end.

You're going to have to sleep soon, before the child wakes up and the new day starts. But for now you're going to stay like this, your skin slicked with your sweat and his, the taste of him in your mouth, and the sacredness of trust between you.

#the mandalorian #fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin needs a hug #touch-starved din djarin #reader character also needs a hug.

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cherrybombusa · 3 years

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GROUP ONE - CCU THEATER. SUCCESS.

PLAYERS:

THE GOLDEN BOY - Harvey Hargrove. THE HEARTBREAK KID - Casey Russell. THE BABY - Casey Russell. THE FALLEN ANGEL - Alice Alder. THE WANNABE - Virginia Ann Virginia.. THE CLASSIC - Libby Logan.

PERKS EARNED:

SELFLESS BITCH: A drunken Virginia Virginia sacrificed herself for her friends! Aw. Maybe she does have a heart underneath all those boobs. Due to her efforts, Virginia has earned the right to remove herself! If the gang ever gets caught in a sticky situation, any lasting effects will not apply to Virginia. This can save her from broken bones, getting in trouble, or even death - but beware! This perk can only be used once.

MEMORABLE MOMENTS:

-LIBBY WAS TAKEN BY THE KILLERS. -VIRGINIA SACRIFICED HERSELF TO THE KILLERS. -CASEY INJURED A KILLER. -RORY WAS HIT OVER THE HEAD.

THE NARRATOR: It might not have been a quiet night, maybe not even uneventful, but the Gang found themselves grateful, at least, that the Candy Girl hadn’t shown her face. It was nearing midnight now, and with only Paulie Virginia checking on the kids before they fell asleep on the sand, and Lucas Bright left straggling on the beach with the Gang, they were sure to turn-in soon.

They were gathered around the bonfire, talking and laughing - almost even letting their guards down - but the screech of three white vans pulling up to the shore interrupted every little conversation taking place around the bonfire. They didn’t want to think anything of it at first… College kids in this town were wild, and they were all piling back into town this week, after all. But when a group of masked, hooded figures with baseball bats, and kitchen knives galore began making their way out of the vehicles, and onto the beach - what were they supposed to do but worry?

OFFICER PAULIE VIRGINIA: “Hey! Stop right there!”

THE NARRATOR: It was almost instinctual for the rookie to go right into barking cop voice, even with no back up - stupid, of course - but another ‘Candy Girl’ stunt was the last thing he was going to let happen on his watch. The man reaches for the taser in his belt, just like he was trained to do, but just as he gets it free, the blur of a body rushing forward - Lucas Bright - distracts him for a split enough second to fumble.

Paulie almost yells for Lucas to stop, but before he can get the words off of his tongue, the Bright kid nearly runs headfirst into one of the masked figures' fists. It’s shocking how hard he falls - makes Paulie wonder if he’s okay - but before he can wonder too much, he realizes too late that one of the hooded figures has gotten the jump on him. He’s half expecting the figure to reach for his taser - the oh shit moment of the century - but when Paulie feels a baseball bat connect with his ribcage… He almost wishes he had been tased. Might have hurt less.

CANDY GIRL: “Hello, my little freaks and geeks! Did you miss me and my little friends? Because I think tonight is about to get a little more fun.”

THE NARRATOR: ...Uh oh. Maybe I spoke too soon about the Candy Girl not showing her face.

It doesn’t take long to get the gang tied up - not with the threat of knives, and Paulie’s discarded taser at the hooded groups disposal - and the ringleader of this little group, the one bouncing around telling everyone what to do, seems absolutely giddy with her capture. What else are you supposed to expect from faceless psychos, though, right?

CANDY GIRL: ““Here’s the game tonight, losers! We’re gonna split you up and see if you can pass our little trials. Those who do? They get to go home tonight! Those who don’t…. Well, you might end up closer to Lux than you thought you were before.”

THE NARRATOR: Candy turns toward one of the other masked figures - one that seems like her Helper - flicking her chin toward the Gang. It’s a cue, and that much becomes clear when one-by-one, each of them has a hood slipped over their face, obstructing their view nearly completely.

CANDY GIRL: “But first, we’re going on a little trip!”

THE NARRATOR: It’s hard for the Gang to know just how they’ve been split up, but as they’re pushed forward toward the parking lot - the sound of Paulie’s and Lucas’s far-off groaning in their ears - they know one thing. They’re completely fucked, and there’s nothing they can do about it with their hands tied behind their backs… Especially not when they’re about to be shoved into the back of those fucking vans.

Nobody’s really sure how long they’ve been driving - they’re all too terrified to try and keep count - but by the time the van finally slows to a stop, they’re all dragged right back out onto solid ground, and into… some old building. Just where, is the question.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE BEEN TAKEN BY THE CANDY GIRL TO CCU FOR A NIGHT OF FUN. DON’T DIE!

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it’s the way they had to file between cramped rows, bumping into seats that left bruises blooming over their thighs; maybe it’s the echo of their footsteps, bouncing off of the walls like music. Either way, those who had ever stepped foot into the CCU theater - nearly all of them, considering every field trip they had been to to watch some semi-professional production of Bye Bye Birdie - know right where they are at that moment.

It’s a comforting place for some - one that induces only stress, or indifference to others - but it’s hard to imagine that it won’t be a place that brings anxiety after tonight; just as tainted as the boardwalk, or even walking along Lux’s and Harvey’s block might be. Now is no time to think about how they might feel in the future, though -- if they even make it that far. No, they’re going to have to make it through tonight first.

They’re led onto the stage like prized pigs, ready to be blue-ribboned - but once they’re situated, the hoods that cover the gang’s faces come off; they even cut the ropes off from around their wrists. It might be stupid, but the knives, and baseball bats manage to keep everyone in their place; hearts racing in anticipation of what might come next.

The theater is mostly dark, save for a couple of spotlights that shine down onto the stage, highlighting the Gang like the stars of Candy’s show. There are props scattered about - sets, hanging sheets, costumes! It almost looks more like a storage closet than the grandiose CCU theater, but as they try to get their bearings, the two figures heading the circle - Candy and her supposed assistant - jolt them back into reality with a clap of their hands.

CANDY GIRL: “Like I said, we’re gonna play a little game tonight, boys and girls! But, you’re all oh-so-familiar with games, aren’t you? Especially after our special little stunt at the boardwalk.”

THE NARRATOR: Her voice could almost be considered familiar, but nobody in the room really knows where to place the memory of it. Did she actually sound like that recording on the beach? Was she someone they knew? The gang just looks at each other from any angle that they can; making eye contact at whatever cost, as if it might help them all jog their memory to know they’re on the same page. They don’t get another chance to listen, though, as the other figure - leader two - begins speaking.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “She’s written some riddles!”

THE NARRATOR: They pull a sheet of paper from their pocket.

CANDY GIRL: “And you’re going to solve them! Don’t worry about the doors -”

THE NARRATOR: The movement is clearly rehearsed as a number of their captors - five, if you’re counting - head toward the row of carved, flourishing doors at the back of the theater. Three of them leave, but the other two begin looping chains through the antique handles, locking them into the auditorium with absolutely no escape.

VIRGINIA ANN: The last however many minutes Virginia had been captured were maybe the worst moments of her life. They were just supposed to have a fun bonfire but of course a fun bonfire turned into watching her brother get hit with a baseball bat, be captured by a bunch of weirdos, and end up at the theatre as another "fun" game. She wanted to get up and leave, but someone would stop her, wouldn't they? "Why the hell are you doing this?" Was what Virginia first asked. She doubt she'd get any sort of answer and hey, maybe they'd sew her mouth shut for even speaking. "We didn't do anything."

ALICE ALDER: On any other given day, if she were to be having a conversation — or even just be stuck in the same room with Virginia! — hilarity would be bound to ensue (in one of the worst ways, but nonetheless…). But this? What was this? Her almost bestie… betraying her again! “Dude, what the fuck?” A futile question that would get no answer — but asked on instinct! “The 'beach bash' wasn’t enough?”

RORY COLLINS: It was happening again. She had gone white as a sheet when she saw the masked figures on the beach, and hadn't managed to regain any color yet. "Guys, I really don't think they're going to answer," she swallowed hard and tracked the psychos' every movement. Rory hesitated. "They didn't last time."

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “--God, can you people shut up for two minutes? We’re kind of, like - in the middle of something!”

THE NARRATOR: Candy’s little Helper interrupts the conversations with an annoyed tone, as if they’re the ones inconveniencing her night. It’s strange, how nonchalant it is, but Candy just huffs in annoyance as she looks at her ‘assistant.’ Shoulders dropping a little as she breaks character to reprimand her.

CANDY GIRL: “Jesus christ, can you just say your fucking lines? It’s not that hard,”

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “They’re -”

CANDY GIRL: “Seriously?”

THE NARRATOR: The masked figure hesitates.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “Fine! You need three keys, and three, exactly!

CANDY GIRL: “Or you’ll spend the night -”

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it’s the fear of the moment that kept all of their eyes focused on the two masked figures interacting with them - tunnel vision, of sorts - but it only makes the loud squish of blade entering flesh even louder than it should have been. The group of them flinching before Candy even has a chance to start shrieking through the pain of the knife in her side.

It was almost unbelievable that it had happened at first - did it even make sense that the Candy Girl’s henchmen were turning on her? - but the blood splashing against the stage floor had to have been proof enough that it wasn’t just some fucked up group hallucination. This was an attack - one that hadn’t seemed expected by either the Candy Girl or her little helper.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

THE NARRATOR: Fair question. And the attacker should have heard it, as loud as the second-not-so-in-charge-figure shrieked - but the knife-wielder didn’t even flinch as he dragged Candy toward back off of the stage and toward one of the many staircases that led to the balconies; blood pouring from the wound in her side all the while.

The other mask - Candy’s little helper - almost considers running for it, throws the note from her hands in anticipation of getting the fuck out of there… but she hardly gets a chance when her own attacker - the other one of the maniacs who had chained the door - comes from behind her and squeezes their hulking arms around her fame. They have their own knife; one that plunges directly into her chest, but the Gang doesn’t have much time to watch as they drag her off in the same direction.

What.

The.

Fuck.

There’s only a moment of hesitation - it had all happened so quickly - but the gang wastes no more time before fleeing to opposite sides of the theater. The sound of both of the women’s dying screams echo across through the space, shaking all of them to their core… but they all know one thing: they need to get their hands on that riddle.

If they’re locked in, then it might be their only way of getting out.

MAKE A CHOICE: ALICE, VIRGINIA, AND LIBBY ARE HIDDEN IN THE WINGS OF THE THEATER. HARVEY, RORY, AND CASEY ARE DUCKING BEHIND A ROW OF SEATS.

CASEY RUSSELL: All bad things seem to come in threes. And if it wasn't solely going to be a black eye that would be the highlight of his evening, it was going to be this. He calls it survivor's instinct in the scramble when he ambles over behind the seats, even though he's pretty sure he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. For a moment his gaze lands solely on Harvey. It's been ages since they've played on the same team. But... somewhere between life and death, they surely had to put some degree of their differences aside right? "Do we have any ideas?" He whispers, "I don't really fancy ending up being like whoever the fuck that was."

HARVEY HARGROVE: Once upon a time, in the distant remains of the far-off evening that had been only a few hours before, Harvey had assumed this wasn't going to happen. But here they were and here was... Whatever the hell this is. Joy of joys. It wasn't easy pulling his focus from Libby and Rory, where his eyes seemed to stray automatically in an attempt to find reassurance that wasn't coming. He did though, and turned to Casey. "We can't go at once. There's too many of us, we'd be noticed far too quickly."

MAKE A CHOICE: HARVEY IS RIGHT. SOMEBODY IN THE WINGS MUST RETRIEVE THE RIDDLE. IT IS THEIR ONLY HOPE OF GETTING OUT: WHO WILL IT BE?

LIBBY LOGAN: Libby can't hear either of her friends cramped into the rows of theater seats, but as her heart races in her chest - as the alcohol pulses through her veins - somehow, she knows it's up to her to retrieve the riddle on center stage. That had been the way out of the whole Carousel Cove situation, right? She doesn't even say anything to Virginia or Alice as she darts forwards, fingertips outstretched. Libby just hopes she can get back without alerting the killers upstairs.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: Every step sounds too-loud, even masked by the sound of screams, but somehow they manage to make their way back onto the stage where the riddle was thrown by Candy’s little Helper. They get their hands on the blood soaked paper; the breath leaves their lungs as the sound of screaming begins to die - no pun intended - out. It’s not completely obvious what they should do next, but they make eye contact with their friends hidden in the wings; those hidden in the seats.

They’re never going to make it out of this without each other, so they better think fast.

They hear the sound of the killers beginning to stir from the steps near the balconies, and just like that a plan forms in their freaky little hive mind. Someone needs to distract the killers while everyone else gets upstairs. But who will it be?

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY MUST DISTRACT THE KILLERS WHILE THEIR FRIENDS GET UPSTAIRS. SHOULD THEY THROW SOMETHING ACROSS THE ROOM [PROBLEM SOLVING], SNEAK ACROSS THE ROOM AND KNOCK SOMETHING OVER, [BRAVERY] OR SHOULD SOMEONE TRY MESSING WITH THE LIGHTBOARD? [PERCEPTION]

HARVEY HARGROVE: He turned his head, locking eyes with Libby at center stage. A slow nod of the head was the only sign he gave before he stood up and began to move as quietly as he could towards the other side of the theatre. There was always shit offstage in these places, right? Surely there would be something over there that could get the focus off of Libby (if it didn't, he'd rain hellfire down, that he promised himself). Each step brought him closer and closer to the vague shape of a light and when he was beside it, he turned back, grinned at his friends as best he could, picked up the light, and threw it.

MAKE A CHOICE: FAILURE!

THE NARRATOR: It was a long shot, but as soon as the stage light crashes against the floor, only one of the killers turns their head to investigate. The other? Well, their gaze lands directly on little Libby Lou.

It’s hardly a split second before they cross the theater toward her, and as hard as Libby tries to fight, it’s no use - the threat of the knife, and the feeling of it’s handle knocking against the side of their face is enough to give the killer the upper hand… At least they have time to throw the riddle in the general direction of their friends before they’re dragged away toward the balconies staircase.

It’s enough of a distraction to get everyone else safe, if even for a moment. They have to get the hell out of there, and save Libby... if there’s even time. They all book it as fast as they can, and somehow they manage to make it into the dressing rooms beneath the stage - one of them even manages to grab the riddle, silently hoping it wasn’t Libby's last gift to them all.

At least it might actually save them.

Their hearts are pounding loud enough in their chests that they might swear they could all count each other’s heartbeats. Now is no time to check up on each other, though - not as they lay the first riddle out in front of them.

If you want the key, you’ll have to find Me,

I’m a keeper of the law, you see.

I might be a pawn - I saw Pepper get diced,

Are you feeling naughty? Then here’s some advice:

I’ll name a story, no I’ll name three -

All from the Bard,

So be careful with thee.

A tragedy I’m not,

In love? I could be.

Pick only one…

Pray it’s the right movie.

MAKE A CHOICE: ALICE HAS BEEN GRABBED. DO YOU TRY TO SAVE THEM?

CASEY WAS SUCCESSFUL IN SAVING ALICE. HE INJURES THE KILLER, AND THE GANG RUNS TO HIDE IN THE AISLES.

MAKE A CHOICE: RORY IS RETRIEVING THE FIRST KEY.

RORY COLLINS: "I'll go," Rory balls her trembling hands into fists at her side. They have to save Libby, so she's going to do whatever it takes. She creeps towards the band pit as quietly as she can, and lowers herself in to look for the key.

THE NARRATOR: Rory runs with all of her might, the gang all sneaking close behind to watch her back, but with the correct location, it’s not hard to find the key taped against the wall of the orchestra pit, along with the next part of the riddle. With the sheet of paper, they make it back to their friends, and lay out the clue to get to the next key.

If you want to get out, don’t Twist and Shout,

It’s not the Candy Man locking you out.

If you feel Clueless, then here’s your clue -

You can find Me behind door number two.

How to know you’re close? Just think of the times,

The 90’s are ending, but oh, how it thrives!

Once you’re through, don’t look any further -

Your key can be found in the one with no murder.

CASEY RUSSELL: "Okay... I think I've got this." Was that more for the group's sake or his own? It's with a deep breath after they work it out that he readies himself for the run to the prop closet before taking off. He may be drunk beyond belief, but he's determined to reach their key as he runs.

THE NARRATOR: Casey and the gang sprint hard toward the prop closet, somehow managing to duck past the killers to get a good look in the massive room. It takes a minute or two, but soon Casey has the key and another little sheet of paper.

It should be easy to get back to his friends now that are waiting in the wings, but before he can even turn around, he feels hands grasping around his limbs and yanking him back toward the staircase. He has to fight, but he can't do it alone.

MAKE A CHOICE: DOES SOMEBODY WANT TO SAVE THEIR FRIEND, OR LET THEM DROP THE KEY?

RORY COLLINS: She doesn't even think when she sees the masked figure grabbing Casey. She just moves. Rory sprints forwards and hits the attacker as hard as she can.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: It’s a great effort, and though Rory doesn't manage to do much real damage - and gets hit over the head hard enough to draw blood - she's still successful in getting her friend the hell away from that monster. The whole group is terrified, but they’re quick on their feet as they move somewhere else that could be deemed even semi safe within the madness to solve the next riddle.

Here’s your third key - you’re almost there!

Unless you can’t take a bit of a scare.

Your key can be found with the killers that hunt you

Hand someone over, and we’ll hand over ours too.

There’s no getting out of it, there’s no bargaining here,

You must sacrifice someone, someone so dear.

Will they die, will they live? Only we know.

But if you don’t choose, then all of you go.

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEONE MUST SACRIFICE THEMSELVES AND ALERT THE KILLERS TO GET THEM TO DROP THE THIRD KEY. CHOOSE WHO.

VIRGINIA ANN: If you had told that Virginia that five hours ago she'd be running onto the stage to present herself to a bunch of murderous assholes, she'd probably laugh in your face. Maybe if she lived this would be a funny story to tell her kids one day. Not even bothering to deal with telling the group of her decision due to the five vodka mixed drinks in her body, she ran up the stage and yelled, "Hey bitches, I'm here!"

THE NARRATOR: It’s hard not to feel the weight of the gang’s fear like a punch in the gut, radiating through the room. They can hear Virginia's drunken voice call out - the sound of her scream, and her struggle as they’re dragged her up the stairs, just like the others had been.

When the sound of chains dropping from the door handles echoes through the room, though - followed by the scurry of sprinting out of the theater - they almost think to breathe a sigh of relief. Could that really be it? Could it be over?

They don’t move for nearly an hour - or maybe it just feels like an hour - but when they finally decide the coast is clear, the group of them - or what’s left of them - sprint out of the theater, and the hell out of CCU as quickly as they can. Maybe it’s a betrayal to not even look for their friends… or maybe their bodies. But how are they supposed to stomach the thought of it? How are they expected to stick around with those… killers still on the loose?

Are their friends still alive? Who knows. They just know they need to get the police down here to help their friends as soon as they can, even if it means getting the hell out of there.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED YOUR PLOT EVENT.

#bio rp #town rp #oc rp #skeleton rp #small town rp #secrets rp #gossip rp #gossip girl rp #90s rp #classic rp #college rp #secret rp #lsrp #small rp #small group rp #event 002 - ccu theater.#plot event 002 - the bonfire.

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thecreedsgambit · 4 years

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02: Anticipation | Ethan Ramsey x MC (Diana) | song inspiration: To Die For by Sam Smith

Author’s Note: Literally finished this at 4 AM with Sam Smith’s song on constant repeat in my ears. I had fun with this one though, ngl.

Summary: After seeing Dr. Diana James arrive in the emergency room, Ethan struggles with his emotions as he waits for her to return to him again.

01: Triage | Part One

Tags: @mvalentine @openheart12 @colossalpainintheass @noboundariesplease

Disclaimer: Characters and flashback scenes belong to Pixelberry.

Ethan sat in the waiting room, then he paced the waiting room, then he left the waiting room, then he returned to the waiting room once again. The waiting drove him insane, and he couldn’t fathom how so many families were able to do this. He felt so unlike himself. He knew he should be busy with work, or checking on patients, or doing literally anything other than sitting in a damn waiting room.

But he knew he couldn’t - not in the current state he was in. Besides, Naveen wouldn’t allow it.

As he took a seat in his chair, yet again, his eyes roamed over to a little boy sitting by his mother. The mother was clearly agitated, wringing her hands together and checking the hallway every few moments, most likely waiting for any doctor to come and tell her that her loved one would be alright. The little boy, however, was just the opposite. His small hand was wrapped around a toy plane, waving it aimlessly through the air with a carelessness that a part of Ethan wished he himself had.

“Do you want kids?”

Diana’s voice boomed through the speaker, and Ethan was slightly shocked by her question. He wasn’t expecting her to get so personal - to be so forward - when he asked for her to help him test the new fMRI machine. He was trying his best to remain as still and as calm as he could - emotionless, almost. He didn’t want to give too much away.

“Dr. Ramsey?”

“I heard you,” he responded. “I’m thinking.”

But he knew the answer. He had thought about kids a few times actually, but the idea seemed odd now. He had always blamed it on work or being too busy. He supposed the truth was that he never really considered that life could happen to him. He never really thought someone would walk into his life that he could love, and love so deeply, enough to want that kind of life. Something like that just never made sense to him.

The little boy’s sudden helicopter noises jarred Ethan out of his memory, and another painful jolt of guilt and shame washed over him. Why couldn’t he have just been honest with her? Why didn’t he open himself up more? Why couldn’t he have opened up sooner?

He quickly stood and walked towards a hallway. A nurse moved to intercept him, but he waved her off. “Relax,” he grumbled. “I’m just going to the vending machine. And tell Naveen I don’t need a babysitter.”

When he got to the vending machine, though, he just stood there. Feet planted on the ground, arms folded, and eyes staring straight forward at a small pouch of hot chocolate.

"That got her to take her pills,” he sputtered. “I can’t believe it.”

“Of course it did.”

Ethan looked at her suspiciously. “So, are you going to tell me how you worked this one out?”

A mischievous smirk played on the corner of Diana’s lips and a teasing glint shimmered in her eyes. “A girl’s got to have some secrets, Dr. Ramsey.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly annoyed by her response. “You’re seriously not going to tell me?”

“I’m going for the air of mystery.” He couldn’t help but notice the way her tongue darted out and licked the bottom of her lip as she paused, adding an innocent smile. “Is it working?”

Despite himself, a small smile appeared on his face. “... mildly.”

She grinned before turning back to the machine and punching in the numbers for the chocolate bar in the top corner. Retrieving it, she tossed it toward him.

“And who is this for?”

“You.” Her response made him look her in the eye. Mixed feelings swirled within him as he tried, and so desperately failed, to study her. All she did was smile in response; the same smile that made his heart beat uncomfortably in his chest. “It’s okay to treat yourself sometimes, Dr. Ramsey.”

The memory faded as his eyes lazily glided towards a chocolate bar that rested in the top corner of the machine. He shook his head and walked further down the hallway, stopping to lean against a bin of medical supplies. His eyes flickered to a TV that was playing a baseball game in a patient’s room.

The pharmacy executives walked away, and Diana turned toward him with an annoyingly attractive smirk toying on her lips. “’One of our most promising young doctors,’ huh?”

“Stop.”

She gave him an innocent smile as she melodramatically narrated his own words. “’The future of medicine.’”

“Well, I couldn’t introduce you as a colossal pain in my ass, now could I?”

A wide smile spread across her features, provoking a grin of his own.

Pins and needles pricked the backs of his eyes once again, and he looked away quickly. Being reminded of the baseball game felt like a painful punch to the gut. He remembered how proud he had felt of her that day. She handled the executives with so much ease and confidence that it nearly took him by surprise. He didn’t even know why he had invited her in the first place.

Of course he did. He always knew.

He decided to go upstairs to his old office. It was still vacant; maybe he wouldn’t be bothered there - by people or by painful memories.

He was wrong, of course. The moment he stepped through the threshold of his old office, an even more painful memory surfaced.

“What are you -?”

Diana strode into his office, no knock, just a fiery look of accusation burning in her eyes. “Are you punishing me? Do you enjoy it, or something?”

Ethan’s face twisted in anger, and he felt his skin crawl with an unbelievable amount of annoyance. “You need to separate your personal feelings from your professional feelings, Dr. James.”

His anger was almost - not fully, but almost - misplaced because he knew that he, himself, should have been listening to his words, too.

Diana rose to her full height, which was still much shorter than Ethan. “You told me you gave me that patient for a reason.”

“Of course I did!” He was raising his voice now. That usually made people back down; not Diana. “I meant to challenge you!”

“Challenge me to do what?”

She raised her voice too, and his shoulders tensed with annoyance, with anger, and with ... something else he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

“To be the best doctor you can be!” He shouted. Both of their chests rose and fell with pint up emotions. He chose to lower his voice, but the anger dripping from his tone still sliced through the tense air between them. “I selected you because I saw something special in your application.”

Her entire demeanor changed as it dawned on her. “Wait - you selected me?”

“Yes.” He towered over her; his eyes narrowed, and his jaw set tight. “It’s very rare that I’m wrong, Rookie. But I’m willing to admit when I am.”

The way she had looked at him before she left his office was almost enough to make him call after her. But he didn’t; he couldn’t. He was too blind at the time, too wrapped up in pushing her away to prevent himself from pulling her closer. Now, just the idea of him possibly hurting her with his words made his head swim with unfamiliar pain.

“What are you doing to me?”

Diana had overcome his willpower with just one look, and her eyes searched his own in such a way that made his heart beat erratically. With the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, she responded, “Hopefully something good.”

He felt dizzy - inexplicable confusion. He’d never felt like this before, and he certainly couldn’t explain it. If he tried to leave his office, he feared he would stumble or try his hardest to go in that damn operating room himself. He needed them to save her.

“I hated her ... but he still loved her.” Ethan looked at Diana with so much vulnerability. He didn’t even bother to hide his emotions from her; not this time. “Why didn’t he ever resent her the way I did?”

Diana’s eyes were so soft, so warm. He felt like she single-handedly kept him tethered to the ground, and he never, ever wanted to let go. “It’s a different type of pain, Ethan. You were just a child; your world view was still forming. You couldn’t possibly have understood then.”

Perhaps she was right, but he understood now. He needed them to save her ... because he loved her.

“Ethan,” a familiar voice sounded behind him.

He turned to see his dad standing in the doorway. His eyebrows furrowed together, but he couldn’t ignore how good it felt to see such a familiar face.

“Dad?” When his voice came out, it surprised him with how little it sounded. He sounded like a small child. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was on my way back to Providence, but -,” he paused. Alan took one look at his son, and his heart nearly broke with both compassion and understanding. “I was already told what happened. I’m so sorry, son.”

All Ethan could do was nod. His dad stepped closer and wrapped his son in a careful hug. Ethan was hesitant for a long moment. It felt odd - uncomfortable, even - but he accepted it, eventually. Only because he could just imagine the look Diana would be giving him right now, encouraging him to play nice with his dad.

Ethan only let the hug last for a few seconds before he pulled away and roughly swiped at his eyes to remove any stray tears. Before either of them could speak, Dr. Varma appeared in the doorway with uncharacteristically red eyes.

“Dr. Ramsey ... Diana’s out of surgery.”

When Ethan got the news, he hadn’t known what exactly it was that he expected. Maybe her brown eyes gazing up at him, eyelids blinking lazily, and a hoarse voice asking what had happened. Perhaps even some irrational part of him had hoped to see her sitting up, reassuring nurses and friends alike not to fuss over her. Something - anything - to indicate that she was going to be okay.

But that isn’t what happened, and Ethan had mentally cursed himself for allowing even a sliver of hope to twist his chest as he rushed to her room with his dad on his heels.

Now, even two hours later, she still hadn’t woken up. Ethan longed to see her open her eyes, to see her look at him the way only she could. A part of him couldn’t help but to allow just an ounce of hope to trickle into his mind as he imagined Diana’s eyes fluttering open and immediately drifting toward him. What would he say? Would he even be able to let her go another minute without telling her that he loved her?

Every twitch of her finger or her eyes sent Ethan’s heart into a rapid frenzy with an overwhelming arousal of hope he’d thought was dormant; it nearly left him dizzy. Yet, she remained asleep.

After checking on his patients once again, Ethan returned to her room - to the chair he had pulled as close to her bed as possible. His glasses rested on the edge of his nose, hands gripping patient files that he didn’t even look at. All he could do was watch her. Nurses and doctors passed by her room, throwing curious glances in his direction, but he didn’t care. His eyes remained trained on the one object of his affection.

“Ethan.”

His eyes dragged up to see his dad, who stood in the doorway and attempted a sad smile. Ethan fished his keys out of his pocket, working his house key off of the ring. “You can stay at my place again tonight, dad.”

Alan watched his son struggle to get the key; frustration clear on Ethan’s face. Alan let out a quiet sigh, stepping into the room and walking to the foot of Diana’s bed. “Ethan, I know you want to stay here, but ... maybe you should get some sleep? They have plenty of other fine doctors here who will watch Dr. James.”

Finally tugging the key off of the ring, Ethan paused for a moment before raising the key in the air, wordlessly meeting his dad’s gaze. They both knew he wouldn’t leave.

Alan sighed once more, walking closer and patting his son on the shoulder. “It’s okay, son. I’m driving back tonight.” Ethan dropped his hand, and another long moment passed between the two of them. “Dr. James will be alright, just - just take care of yourself, Ethan.”

Ethan met his dad’s gaze once again before offering him a short nod. “Drive safe, dad.”

Alan spared him one last look, then glanced worriedly down at Diana’s sleeping form, before leaving the room. Ethan watched him go, even listened to his receding footsteps for as long as he could. After a beat, his eyes - a blue storm of pain, longing, and hope - returned to Diana.

Just as he’d done many times before, he placed the files on his lap and leaned forward. He gently took her wrist, placing his fingers above her pulse. With eyes trained on his watch, he counted each passing second before glancing up at her monitors.

Vitals were fine; patient was stable. He did this nearly every thirty minutes because it was the one thing that eased his conscious.

When he placed her wrist back at her side and returned to gripping the files in his hands, Dr. Trinh, Dr. Varma, and Dr. Greene entered the room

“Oh - Dr. Ramsey,” Dr. Trinh said, slightly startled. She looked as if she wanted to add, “You’re still here ...”

He wanted to offer to leave - to tell them they could have a moment with their friend - but he couldn’t; he wouldn’t. He had left her before, and he never intended to do so again. The thought of her being alone when this accident happened nearly made his hands curl into fists and his heart beat with both anger and guilt. He wanted to make sure he was the first person she saw; he wanted to make sure she knew she would never be alone again.

Much to his relief, Dr. Varma offered him an out as she held up a card and a teddy bear that looked as if both had come from the hospital’s gift shop. “We just wanted to bring these to her before our shifts ended for the day.”

She walked over to Diana’s bedside, placing the teddy bear on the side table and positioning the card delicately in the bear’s grasp. The card fell open slightly, facing Diana, and Ethan caught sight of the inside of it.

His eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes slightly. “That signature in that card - is that the governor’s signature?”

Dr. Varma’s mouth twisted in a smile as she looked at the card, as if she were smiling at some fond memory. “It’s sort of a running joke between us.”

Dr. Greene found his way to the foot of Diana’s bed, sad eyes looking at her seemingly peaceful face. “Has she woken up yet?”

He hadn’t looked at Ethan, but Ethan knew he was talking to him. He also knew Dr. Greene already knew the answer. He shook his head anyway. “No - nothing, yet.”

After having lingered in the doorway, Dr. Trinh finally walked into the room and went directly up to Diana’s bedside. A stray tear left her eye, and Ethan looked away for a moment. He felt like he was intruding on something - a moment, rather. But he still refused to leave; he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

A moment later, Dr. Trinh sniffed, and they all turned to leave. “Have a good night, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Doctors,” he said, nodding his head at their retreating figures.

Once they had cleared the doorway, Ethan’s eyes landed on an elderly couple in the hallway. One was a patient; a short, frail woman with graying hair and a hospital gown hanging loosely on her thin body. Her hands were placed gently on an elderly man’s arm. The two walked slowly down the hallway as he pulled her IV stand behind them. The smiles on their faces as they gazed up at each other made it seem as if they were walking around Boston Common, not the inside of Edenbrook.

With furrowed eyebrows, Ethan returned his attention to Diana. For a moment, he could see it - the life he never could image for himself. A house somewhere on a lake just outside of Boston, one they had built, with Jenner pouncing around the lawn after a baseball his son had failed to catch in his gloved hand.

His pager sounded, and he shook the image from his head almost aggressively. Standing to his feet, he paused and dropped an affectionate hand down to meet Diana’s cheek. He brushed his fingers against her soft skin with a touch as light as a feather. He stood there - just like that - for a second longer before withdrawing his touch and leaving the room as fast as he could so as to be able to return as fast as possible.

He tried not to get angry that his patient took longer to deal with than usual. Why was it always so hard to get Mr. Mitchell to take his medication?

Regardless, his feet carried him all the way to Diana’s room. As he went, he flipped through charts and results that had been waiting for him at the nurses’ station. A slight pain throbbed just behind his eyes; he knew he was tired, but he was just stubborn enough to push through it.

At the end of the hallway, Diana’s room sat, and, as he approached and let his eyes painfully draw up from the charts, there she sat, too.

His heart stopped and his blood ran cold as he watched her. She was wiggling her toes and stretching her fingers while clearly still trying to blink herself awake. Ethan couldn’t bring himself to announce his presence, so he continued to watch her in disbelief.

He knew he should’ve rushed forward, scolding her not to put too much strain on herself. He should’ve stepped forward and checked her vitals to make sure she was fine, to ensure there were no signs of any surgical complications.

He just couldn’t. He couldn’t move.

She attempted to look at her monitors, but her pillow was blocking her view. She brought her hand up to move it out of the way, and, as she did, she caught sight of Ethan.

With a sheepish smile that made Ethan’s heart skip a beat, she raised her arm and waved it in the air, letting all the wires connected to her bounce aimlessly, before dropping her arm back to her side. “I was just doing a post-surgery checkup.”

He wanted to scoff; he wanted to say, “of course you were.” But his speech failed him. All he could do was stare at the woman in front of him, knowing that, deep down, he only had one thing to say.

#ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan #open heart #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry #pb #ramsey #choices fic #choices open heart #choices open heart 2 #play choices #pixelberrychoices #pixelberry choices

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bubblytarts · 4 years

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Bendy and the Inky Musical - Part 5/5

This is it. The end of Act Two. But this is not the end of my Inky Musical content. There will definitely be more to come, as there’s so much I didn’t cover in these summaries.

But without further ado, let’s finish this story! Featuring a subtle How to Train Your Dragon reference, a very confused ensemble, and a sweet, cheesy happy ending (because slight spoiler, I am not leaving this musical on the exact canon ending).

Dreams Come True (Reprise) - Joey, Ensemble

This is clearly the homestretch of the musical, and even the characters can feel it.

Henry finds the throne room, and plays Joey’s tape.

Joey’s voice begins offstage, as the ensemble helps to convey the tone of dreams coming true. There are portions of the lyrics that are exactly the same as the original Dreams Come True, but now Joey is being himself, instead of his public persona, so the words about doing anything to make dreams come true are much more sinister.

Joey Drew himself then appears. Henry interrupts him to say “you aren’t here!” And Joey agrees before backing Henry up, until he falls onto the throne. Joey hands Henry the end reel, and almost dares him to put it in right then and there.

Joey lets the chorus intimidate Henry a bit more before walking off calmly. Henry is confused why everyone suddenly runs off, until he feels Beast Bendy looming above him.

The End of the Road - Wally, Henry, Ensemble

Henry bolts from the throne, as Beast Bendy chases him around stage.

Wally and the ensemble are there to cause chaos. The song is loud and confusing, with very happy sounding lyrics, but are actually much darker if you actually listen. The lyrics are also very vague and could apply to Henry or Bendy, like the ensemble isn’t sure who they’re rooting for.

The projector for the end reel is moved constantly around the stage by the ensemble, forcing Henry to continue running.

Wally throws himself in the way a few times to give Henry enough time to escape a bad situation, using his “don’t shoot the narrator” shtick to his advantage. The ensemble causes trouble, as they keep grabbing at Henry, blocking his way, or moving the projector. But they also do part easily at some points. Depends on what lyrics they’re singing at that moment.

Eventually, Wally shoves Henry through a clear path, and he escapes offstage. The ensemble cowers before Beast Bendy, but Wally holds his ground, singing alone, “It’s the end of the road.” After the applause, Beast Bendy roars and raises his arm, and the lights flash in an effect similar to Sammy’s death in Chapter Two, before going out.

Believe - Henry

Henry has finally made it back to the throne room, and the projector is there. He turns to wait for Wally, who after a lengthy pause, doesn’t appear (his fate is left ambiguous). Henry slowly turns to the projector slowly, and Beast Bendy enters.

There’s a note played, and Henry quietly sings, turning towards Bendy. It’s an apology song. He’s sorry he couldn’t protect not only his friends, but his creations. He’s not sorry he left, but he is sorry for what happened after.

Bendy seems to be listening as Henry sounds close to tears. Henry admits that he doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but he’s learned a lot.

He believes in the power of hope, of faith, of trust, of love, of happy endings, and of course, belief. He believes in his friends, and that they believe in him.

Henry touches Bendy’s face gently, and once more apologizes for what happened to him because of Joey. At Joey’s name, Bendy roars, and Henry scrambles back, telling Bendy that he believes in him too, before playing the end reel.

The End plays in huge letters on the back of the stage, and Bendy collapses as the lights go blindingly bright.

To Hell and Back - Joey

Henry is standing in an apartment. He turns, and and older Joey is there with his back to him. Before Henry can even get a word in, Joey begins his song. It’s slow, and Joey is using his happy, public persona, but he also isn’t trying to hide how sinister the lyrics are. The words are similar to his speech in the apartment in-game, but he fully admits to his crimes, and even hints that this isn’t the end of Henry’s story.

Henry is getting obviously agitated as Joey continues to blame him for what happened. Joey has made his way to Henry’s side, and wraps his arm around Henry’s shoulders. That’s too much.

Henry interrupts the song to yell about the horrible things he’s been through. It seems like Henry might even take control of the song, but when the music picks up again, Joey cuts him off. Without further ado, Joey admits that this indeed isn’t the end of the story, and reveals the door to the studio, giving Henry and the audience only a few moments to gawk before shoving Henry inside.

Creators and Traitors (Reprise) - Henry, Joey, Ensemble

(Think more angry Finale B; Rent)

Henry immediately starts pounding on the door. Joey leans against the other side, telling him to get a move on. Henry sinks to his knees, and Joey begins to walk away, convinced he’s won.

Henry starts singing again. The melody of Creators and Traitors. It’s very quiet, but he’s telling Joey that he’s switching the roles. He’s not the traitor, Joey is. Joey scoffs as Henry stops again, and Joey sits down at his desk, looking over his storyboards.

Then the ensemble starts repeating Henry’s words. Henry looks around, and Wally holds out his hand to help him up. Henry joins the singing, which is stronger now, and swears that the story doesn’t end this way.

Henry walks in place in the center of the stage, music and dancing growing in intensity, showing the passing of dozens, if not hundreds, of loops. Wally stands behind Henry, watching as Sammy breaks away from the ensemble’s movements to nod to Henry and stand next to Wally, adding his voice to the two of them. The others follow. Buddy, Susie, Norman, Allison, and Tom.

As the crew join Henry in marching, the music now a thundering roar, Joey frantically tries to draw over his storyboards, singing his own overlapping part, another melody similar to Dreams Come True, before running towards the door, trying in vain to hold it closed for a moment before Norman and Tom bust it down.

There’s an overwhelming key change as Henry stands face to face with Joey, the ensemble and main characters at a fever pitch while Henry and Joey sing their solo parts in each other’s faces, neither backing down.

Joey tries to take over the song and establish himself as the creator again, before a Henry corrects him again. The roles are switched. Henry’s the creator, and Joey’s the traitor. And Henry says the story ends here.

The sound of Beast Bendy roaring plays in the background as the ensemble holds their final note, Joey screams “No!”, and Henry smashes the end reel. Blackout.

Outta Here! (Reprise) - Company

(Think the happiness of Finale; Newsies)

Henry stands alone on the stage. He looks around, confused, when Wally comes running in, looking ecstatic. Henry remarks that Wally isn’t wearing just black and white anymore, but Wally tells him that’s not the important part here.

Cue the entrance of a very human Sammy Lawrence, being supported by Norman, who now has a normal human head. Henry is in shock as Wally drags him towards his friends, immediately annoying Sammy. Susie shrieks as she and other ensemble members start to come on stage, declaring that she’s beautiful again.

Henry, now incredibly excited, starts greeting the friends he’s finally getting to see again for real. He shakes hands with Grant, Shawn, and Lacie, gets a kiss on the cheek from Susie, and gets a disgruntled huff from Bertrum before getting tapped on the shoulder.

Henry looks confused for a moment as the boy in front of him smiles and says hello. “You probably don’t know me, but I’m-” and then Henry has the moment of realization and pulls Buddy into a hug.

Allison calls from the other side of the stage, and Henry sends Buddy to go hang out with Wally before going up to her and Tom to give out another hug and handshake. Tom grumbles, but then tells Henry, “You did it. Didn’t think you would-“ and Allison smacks his arm. Tom also then mentions that Joey disappeared. They don’t know where he is. Henry isn’t worried. Allison asks Henry how he knew he could do it, and Henry looks out at the others on stage, and answers “I knew you all believed in me.” She smiles. Henry notices a letter on the floor. He picks it up, and reads aloud, “Well done, old friend.” Sammy yells to Henry, and he pockets the letter, not concerned.

The music picks up as Wally shouts, “We got outta there!” And everyone cheers.

One final singing and dance number, with the main characters front and center, as Henry leads them out of the studio, to whatever awaits them.

#seriously thank you to those who left messages or reblogged #there’s plenty more #i might have made myself sad #im just really proud of this #bendy and the inky musical #batim #bendy and the ink machine #joey drew #wally franks #henry stein

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theastrophilearchitect · 4 years

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February 2021 wrap-up.

Every book, audiobook, tv show and movie I consumed in February.

The phrase ‘wrap-up’ is so boring. I want to talk about books, TV shows and movies, so I can’t even call it a ‘reading wrap-up’, however pleasingly alliterative that sounds despite the fact that ‘wrap’ actually begins with a W. One of my favourite YouTubers, polandbananasBOOKS (that capitalisation is loud) calls her wrap-ups ‘Stories I Ate This Month’ which I love, but using exactly that seems wrong. I genuinely debated calling this ‘My Media Diet’, but the word ‘diet’ has so many negative connotations to me, so I dropped that. Besides ‘wrap-up’ all in lowercase followed by a full stop is aesthetically pleasing.

The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins (audiobook) I’ve read this series countless times. I read the series first time through six years ago, and, after finishing it, I just kept rereading it during silent reading time at school, so God only knows how many times I’ve read it at this point. This is actually the second time I’ve listened to this audiobook, and I still, of course, love it. When I first read it, this book stuck with me. It was the first teen book I ever read and, most unfortunately, put me into a dystopian phase. However, we got over that. I’m good now. I promise.

You know what this is about, but here it is anyway: in a dystopian future (of literally just North America, it never mentions what’s happening anywhere else), a country called Panem (literally the whole of North America) is divided into the luxurious, utopian Capitol, and thirteen districts, all of which gather or produce something for the Capitol. Some of the districts live in poverty, while others are afforded some luxuries but nowhere near those of the Capitol. It never really explains how this system came to be, but then there was a rebellion against the Capitol in which District Thirteen was destroyed, and every year two teenagers from each district are chosen to compete in the Hunger Games, where twenty-four tributes are put in an arena together to fight to the death, and the last person standing emerges victorious. It feels so strange to talk about the basic premise of this book without going into the rest of the trilogy, but I’ll leave it here.

I hate how the media washes this book out and plays it off as just another love triangle, which it barely even is. It has such an important message about society, and the fact that the media does that just proves how accurate it is. I can’t believe when I first read it I was actually Team Gale, but in truth I think that was just because I liked Liam Hemsworth better than Josh Hutcherson, which I still do, but not the point. Anyway, the narrator is excellent.

I’m not giving these booksa rating, both because it’s a reread and I like to base ratings off my initial opinion, and because the first time I read this book I was literally a small child, and part of my love is the nostalgia.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by VE Schwab

This was the first book I read with my eyes this month, and I ended up getting the ebook because it was just so much cheaper than getting a physical copy - I may have invested if I loved the UK cover as much as the US, I’m ashamed to say (above is UK). It was not what I was expecting.

This book was much more contemplation-heavy than I was expecting and actually very light on plot. In 1714, Adeline LaRue runs away from her wedding and prays to Gods, wishing to be free, and is answered by the darkness, who makes her a deal: he grants her immortality, and she promises him her soul when she doesn’t want it anymore. He, wanting her soul, twistedly grants her freedom by cursing her to be forgotten by everyone she ever meets. Three hundred years later, she meets someone who remembers her.

It’s really about life, freedom and time - there’s no direct message or moral, at least not that I picked up on, but it really makes you think. I do enjoy that in a book, but not as much as one where i just love the story. I generally prefer books where I’m rooting for the characters, and it’s full of ships - the kind of stories you would write fanfiction about, but this is the kind of book that I think will stick with me. I take issue with how cliché the ending was, though.

Anyway, I’m not actually sure how I want to rate this. As a British teenager, I’m not actually that familiar with lettered ratings, and I don’t really want to use stars, but I think I’m going to suck it up. Maybe I’ll think of something else eventually.

Rating: 4.5 stars - books that get five stars from me are generally based on the enjoyment factor, but this book deserved more than four.

Arrow Season 1

I’ve been semi-interested in the Arrowverse/DC TV universe for a while, and finally took the opportunity to delve in. This show is so insanely CW - everyone has that look, it has that tone and it takes itself way too seriously. By the 23rd time you’re hearing it, the recap becomes painful to listen to.

This was the first show in DC’s saga - the show picks up as Oliver Queen returns home from being stranded on an island for five years after a cruise ship sank. When the ship went down, his billionaire father sacrificed himself to save Oliver, and left him with a list of ‘the people poisoning [his] city’. Upon returning home, Oliver becomes the vigilante who will eventually become known as ‘Arrow’ or ‘Green Arrow’ (currently unclear; I’m not a comic book person) but is currently dubbed just ‘the Hood’ or ‘the vigilante’, with the goal of taking down the people on the list. It’s very intense.

It took me about ten episodes to actually get invested - which is nearly seven hours watch time - but, ultimately, I’m glad that I did. Aside from the excessive CW-ness of this show, I love the characters and I want to see what happens.

Still, why is everyone so obsesses with Laurel? What’s so great about Laurel? I don’t get it. Felicity is 10000% the best character - she’s relatable, cute, and I high-key ship her with Oliver.

This little rant of mine was unintelligible.

Rating: 4 stars

Guardians of the Galaxy

I’m not explaining what this movie is about. Honestly. This was just a rewatch: I’m currently rewatching every MCU movie in chronological order (as in, starting with Captain America: The First Avenger instead of Iron Man). For every TV season I finish, I watch a a movie, and I alternate between movie series, one of which is, at the moment, MCU films. It’s hard for me to briefly explain my weird watching patterns.

I love this movie so much. It was the first really upbeat MCU movie, and I love the characters.

I don’t really have much to say about this, but if you haven’t watched MCU movies, please watch them. Even if you don’t want to, this movie is absolutely worth watching and you don’t need to watch any other MCU movies for context.

I Am Not Okay With This Season 1

I’m reeling from this show. I literally can’t tell whether or not this is getting a second season; it seems like it was meant to, but then got cancelled, and now I can’t tell.

This show follows a high school student named Sydney. She’s your typical outcast, and isn’t interested in getting ‘in’ - she’s best friends with a girl named Dina; they both came to their school around the same time and ended up friends, though Dina is your typical pretty girl. Then Syd discovers she has powers that operate based on her emotions, and I really don’t want to say anything else. But it does star Sophia Lillis and Wyatt Oleff, who you likely know as two of the kids in IT (the clown movie, not like computing).

Honestly, episodes 1-6 were very chill, more focused on teenage life than her powers, then episode 7 brought it. Up until the end of episode 7, I enjoyed the show and would be happy to watch a second season, but I wasn’t particularly invested or excited by it. Then episode 7. I would love a second season of this show. I have to at least know where the writers were going with it.

This show came out last year, and I only just got to it, but I can’t believe I haven’t heard anybody talking about it. It’s intense, it’s entertaining, and the first season will only take up about two and a half hours of your time (it’s seven 19-28 minute episodes).

Rating: 4 stars

Blue Lily, Lily Blue and The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater

I listened to The Raven Cycle audiobooks in 2019, and I’m not sure why because I didn’t even enjoy them that much. I did, however, decide I wanted to read Call Down the Hawk, the first book in the spin-off series, and that meant I had to reread The Raven Cycle since I had paid so little attention to the audiobooks, which I started in January and I love this series. Not what I expected from a reread of a series I paid virtually no attention to, but here we are.

This is book 3 in The Raven Cycle series, book 1 being The Raven Boys, which is a paranormal book in which the protagonist Blue, is the only non-psychic in a family of psychics, and has been told her whole life that if she kisses her true love, she will kill him. Then, on St Somebody’s Eve (Mark’s? I want to say Mark’s but I’m not sure), when she goes with her aunt to see the spirits of the people who will die in the next year, she sees one of the spirits, a boy from Aglionby Academy, the local private school, meaning he is either her true love, or she is the one who kills him, which in her case, could very much be both. Then that boy schedules a reading with her psychic family to help him find an old Welsh king, and there is so much more than that to this glorious series, but I’ll stop here.

I think my main thing in books and general media is the characters. They have to follow some kind of sensible plot, but if I’m not invested in the characters, I can’t get invested in the story. I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever been so in love with a cast of characters, not even in Six of Crows - this story is so character-driven, and I can’t get enough. This was an excellent continuation, and so much happened, but it did feel like its purpose was just to set up the final book, so I didn’t enjoy this one quite as much as the previous two.

Rating: 4 stars

As for The Raven King - this was the last book I read this month, finishing it on the morning of the 27th because I knew I would have very little reading time from mid-afternoon until twenty-four hours later.

In complete honesty, I found the climax of this book to be a little rushed - we spend the whole series aware that Gansey’s looking for Glendower, but it never seems to be more prevalent than just their general investigations as to what the hell is happening. As a result, when it came to that in this book, it felt a little out of the blue (no pun intended).

Regardless, this series so well balances strong characters and strong plot where so many others fail, and I love it.

Rating: 5 stars

Fate: The Winx Saga Season 1

This show is a live-action rated-15 Netflix adaptation of one of my favourite childhood shows, Winx Club. And, honestly, you can tell.

I tried to watch this objectively, instead of complaining about how they cut some of my favourite characters and changed so many (Tecna, Riven, Beatrix, Stella, Brandon etc.). While I was upset about some of the cuts, I can agree that they were best for the story. Where in the original, every fairy had their own unique powers, this adaptation splits it into five elements: fire (Bloom), water (Aisha - on another note, screw Aisha, honestly), air (Beatrix), earth (Terra) and mind (Musa), though Stella still has light powers? Which is never explained?

Anyway, this follows teenage Bloom as she discovers she’s a fairy and goes through her first year at a fairy school called Alfea.

I’m not going to go too deep into this because I have so much to say about this show that i think I’m going to make a whole separate review rather than bore you with it now.

Quality-wise, this show was mediocre, but enjoyment and nostalgia raise its rating for me because I’m biased.

Rating: 4 stars

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

This is both Bardugo’s first adult novel and her first novel not set in the Grishaverse. I read the Grisha trilogy for the first time years ago and didn’t like it that much, but followed that right up with the Six of Crows duology which I loved. I read King of Scars in 2019 when it came out, and started listening to the King of Scars audiobook just before I started reading this in preparation for Rule of Wolves at the end of March.

I loved this. I don’t think I have anything to criticise quality-wise - the characters had depth, there were plot twists and strong subplots, the world was incredibly well built, and the only thing that got me to put this book down was taking a week to start working on my own writing project (post coming soon). Because I took that week completely off reading, this book took me about two weeks total from start to finish, but it was so worth it.

This novel follows Alex Stern, a twenty-year-old whose friends have all been murdered. She was found beside one of them who died of a overdose, with the same drug in her system. But Alex can see ghosts, and, soon after her friends’ deaths, is consequently offered a scholarship to Yale University, on the condition that she works for the ninth House of the Veil to monitor the activities of Yale’s secret societies.

In complete candour, I found this book somewhat convoluted, though most of that was probably mainly my own poor reading comprehension. Regardless, I loved the plot, and am very highly anticipating the eventual release of its as-of-yet unnamed sequel.

Rating: 4.5 stars

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

So I actually finished this audiobook briefly after finishing Blue Lily, Lily Blue, but I’m tacking it on here because I forgot to add it to the list and already explained my Grishaverse experience in my Ninth House comments.

So, yes, I love this duology, and it really opened a new compartment in my writing brain, even though I haven’t really taken advantage of that writing brain until now (again, post coming soon).

King of Scars by Leigh Bardugo

I am realising I’ve read eight books this month, and nearly half of them were by Leigh Bardugo. Which makes sense, considering how much I enjoy her books.

This book is slower-paced than most of hers, but it does follow two (one of which splits again) completely separate storylines, and is still excellent and entertaining.

I listened to this for a recap before Rule of Wolves is released on March 30th.

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bobasheebaby · 5 years

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70 Scrubs Prompts

Yup, another prompt list. Most of these are actually light and funny, though some are a little heavier. I tried to pick ones that would work outside of a hospital setting. Again it’s super long so cutting at 15.

1 “And who’s to say this isn’t what happens? Who can tell me that my fantasies won’t come true? Just this once ... “ — John JD Dorian

2 “Look NAME, I don’t know if it’s possible for me to put how I feel about you into words, but I guess I’ll give it a shot. I never really believed I’d find somebody that I love as much as you. I love you more than anything in the whole world. NAME, I love you more than FRIEND.” “Oh my god” “It's kind of hard for me to say, but it's true.” — John JD Dorian and Elliot Reid

3 “I grew up on the street ... No, not the hood. The Sesame Street.” — John JD Dorian

4 “As I looked at all the relationships around me ... Some that had gone on forever ... some that were reigniting ... and some that had just begun ... I realized something: It should have been me.” — John JD Dorian

5 “NAME, you can’t test love. When I met NAME, it seemed he/she was more in love with his/her best friend than with me.” “Honey, they’ve got that almond biscotti FRIEND loves, so I was wondering if I could borrow some money so I can get him/her some.” “No, you got him/her a present yesterday.” — Carla and Turk

6 “You’ve been wrong so many times that I'm not even going to say something is wrong anymore. I'm going to say that it's 'NAME'.

— Perry Cox

7 “I just took a pregnancy test, just tell me when a minute's up.” “I just put some pizza rolls on the microwave oven; the minute that bad boy rings we're good to go.” “Oh, my god, I can't stand it, 30 more seconds.” “OK baby, don't get too excited, they have to cool off for at least a minute.” — Carla and Turk

8 “So, uh, you going to lunch with your brother/sister?” “Yeah, I... well, you know, I would've invited you, but I already made the reservation for two.” “So call and change it to three.” “Ohh, I'm not gonna mess with that hostess. You know, she uses sharp tones.” — Elliot Reid and John JD Dorian

9 “Nothing in this world, that's worth having comes easy.” — Bob Kelso

10 “Yeah, I'm not that great with kids. They've got such tiny hands. It's creepy.” — Elliot Reid

11 “I love this moment so much, I want to have sex with it.” — Perry Cox

12 “Oh, my God! I'm gagging and vomiting at the same time. I'm... I'm gavomiting!” — Perry Cox

13 “So he/she has a cute butt. Everyone has a cute butt. I have a cute butt.” “You should bring it in someday.” — John JD Dorian & Carla Espinosa

14 “The problem with people who only want what they can’t have is that once they have what they want, they don’t want it anymore.” — John JD Dorian

15 “I guess when you care about someone, you’ll do whatever you can to make ’em happy.” —John JD Dorian

16 “The truth is, it is all your memories, the joyful ones and the heartbreaking ones that make up who you are as a person” — John JD Dorian

17 “‘Cause even if it breaks your heart to be ‘just friends’, if you really care about someone, you’ll take the hit.“ — John JD Dorian

18 “The easiest way to lose something is to want it too badly.” — John JD Dorian

19 “Sometimes in life when you get what you want, you end up missing what you left behind.” — John JD Dorian

20 “Sex is only good for two things. Making babies and revenge.” — Jordan Sullivan

21 “What's going on?” “I love you too dumpling, but I have to work late. I'll make it up to you this weekend.” “NAME’s on the phone with his/her mom/dad/parent, so we're taking five.” — Jordan Sullivan, Ted Buckland and Perry Cox

22 “By the way, NAME’s here but I'm not going to kiss and tell.” “Oh really? Cause I just got your text that said "bone city".” “Oh really? That came through?” — JD and Elliot

23 “You're gonna love it here, sport.” “Get out while you still can.” “Uh...” “Seriously, get out while you still can.” — Bob Kelso, Ted Buckland, and Keith Dudemeister

24 “Ted, what are you doing?” “I like to do stomach crunches after lunch.” “Ted, lunch was four hours ago.” “Yep, I wasted most of my Tuesday.” “It's Wednesday.” “Aw, man! I missed SHOW!” — John JD Dorian and Ted Buckland

25 “Well, it took a whole tube of gel, but I finally got my hair down.” “No one male or female ever cared, NAME.” — Ted Buckland and Perry Cox

26 “Thirsty, huh?” “Helps the tears taste less bitter.” “Cheers.” — John JD Dorian and Ted Buckland

27 “I have to get ready man. I want my date with NAME to be perfect. What do you think about a romantic horseback ride on the beach?” “Ooh, like you and I did for your birthday.” “Yeah but except this time with two horses.” — John JD Dorian and Turk

28 “I am wearing red. Should I not be wearing red around her?” “She's pregnant, she's not a bull.” — Elliot Reid and Turk

29 “This is why the headache didn't go away, it is actually pronounced 'analgesic', not 'ANALgesic'. The pills go into your mouth.” — Turk

30 [She/he sees NAME holding a beer] “What are you doing? [He/she threatens to open it] “You better not open that.” [He/she opens it] “Okay, you better not drink it.” [He/she takes a sip] “All right, You better not enjoy it.” [He/she expresses enjoyment, person A bitch slaps his/her beer] “Did you just bitch slap my beer?” “Are you calling me a bitch?” “Yes. Yes, I am!” — Carla and Turk

31 “Is there another guy on this planet who is that sensitive?” “Okay, let it out. I've got you. NAME has got you. Hold me tighter, a little too tight...There is a good spot.” — Turk and JD

32 person a “This plan is fool proof.” Person c “That is impossible. You two are involved.” Person c “We will see about that!” [Person a and c crash into each other as they try to walk away] — JD, Perry Cox and Turk

33 person a “I don't think we have anymore wine. NAME, can I have some of yours?” [Person C’s narration: I felt like NAME was starting to blame me for all of this.] [person b Spills his/ her wine in person c’s face) “I spilled mine too, honey. You know what you should do? Ask for some NAME’s.” [Person C Spills his/her wine on his/her crotch] “I spilled mine too.” — Carla, Turk and JD

34 “Wait NAME! I have an idea.” “You have another idea? Well I've got to tell you, I'm done with your ideas and not just for now but forever! Okay, are we clear on that?” “It's a good one.” “I'm listening.” — JD and Turk

35 “He/she is not allowed to dream about me. It gets too freaky in there.” “Cirque de Soleil freaky. One time, he/she was skinless.” — Carla and Turk

36 “How often do you make love?” “Twice today.” “Actually it was three times. You were asleep for the last one.” “Wow, that really happened? I thought it was weird that you were in one of my sex dreams.” — Marston, Turk and Carla

37 “How was your first stress-free day?” “Horrible. And you?” “Worse. Let's make a baby. If it doesn't work this time I'll kill myself.” “Not helping with the stress.” — Carla and Turk

38 “Dude, there you are. Two things; First, the aliens are here and they're wearing track suits.” “Oh, that's Nana.” — Turk and JD

39 “Are you nude right now?” “Yeah! How'd you know?” “Your voice is always higher when you're nude.” “That's true.” “It's not weird you know that at all.” —JD, Turk and Perry Cox

40 “You know, I actually like NAME. So, don't do that thing you always do.” “If you're referring to the game "Find the Saltine", relax. I don't even play that with NAME anymore.” [Later] “Behind your ear.” [Withdrawing Saltine from behind his ear] “My friend, you have found the Saltine. Uh, but, don't tell NAME we're still playing.”— Elliot Reid, JD and Turk

41 “Dude, he/she keeps a hug schedule with his/her friends!” “Okay, NAME ... looks like someone's getting crossed off their 2 o' clock spot and getting penciled in for never! How does that feel? Does it sting?” Person B Narration: He's hurting! Hug him/her ... hug him/her now! — Turk and JD

42 “Dude, don't sweat it - It says here that the ostrich is generally a docile creature.” “Thank God!” “It also says their kick can kill a man!” — Turk and JD

43 “Just don't repeat the same mistakes you made with me. For instance, don't speed down the road pretending your brakes are out. I don't care if it got you laid once in high school. It is not funny and I still have not forgiven you for killing that pony.” — Elliot Reid

44 “NAME, I don't photograph well. On my driver's license, I look like Gary Busey.” — Elliot Reid

45 “We have a very complicated past.” “Yeah, I hurt him/her, and I'm not proud.” Person B narration: I'm a little proud. — Elliot and JD

46 “NAME and I keep it superficial.” “Love the superficial. Dynamite teeth today!” “Oh thanks buddy!” “Sparkly.” “Yeah!” — Elliot and JD

47 “Will you tell me what NAME’s fantasy was?” “Nope.” “Did it involve chains?” “No.” “Whips?” “Mm-mm.” “Candle wax?” “No.” “Role-playing?” “No.” “Lasers?” “Mm-mm.” “Hamsters?” “Negative.” “Was he/she a Mexican apple thief?” “If only ...” — JD and Elliot

48 “Why don't you just move into my place?” “Oh, great, then we'll be two losers under one roof.” — Elliot and JD

49 “NAME, what you said before ... I knew you were right. Anyway, I'm sorry I got mad. You were wrong about one thing, though - we are moving forward.” “NAME, I'm thirty years old; I'm single, I'm homeless, and I'm pretty sure I just soiled myself.”

— Elliot and JD

50 Person A “Ohhh, my God, you're right.” Person B “Don't let him/her be your puppet-master.” Person C “Hey!” Person B “Hey.” Person C “What's up?” Person B “I have a headache.” Person C “Take some aspirin.” Person B “Don't tell me what to do! You're not the boss of me!” — Carla, Elliot and Jake

51 “I've never connected with a guy/girl like this before. I mean, even though it's only been two weeks, I already feel like I know NAME better than I know myself.” “What does he/she do for a living?” “I should know that.” — Elliot and Carla

52 “Look, the reason I've been acting so weird and having my friends hang around us all the time is because I really think that we have a shot for something great, and I don't wanna go and ruin it by sleeping with you too fast. I mean, what was I supposed to do?” “Well, you...you could have just told me that.” “Yes, but you're forgetting I'm a crazy person!” — Elliot and Jake

53 “I've seen the Wiggles live in concert ... twice.” “Did they perform 'Big Red Car'?” “They opened and closed the show with it. It was awesome.” — Perry Cox and Turk

54 “What's wrong with me?” “You're an annoying, whining man-child.” “That question wasn't directed to you!” “What question?” — JD and Perry Cox

55 “I’m notifying all my old boyfriends/girlfriends today that I'm officially off the market.” “I'm sure the 'pulse' setting on your shower head will be devastated!” — Elliot Reid and Perry Cox

56 “If there is one thing I have learned, it's that you can't schedule love.” “I think your credit card statement would beg to differ.” — Bob Kelso and Perry Cox

57 “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man/Woman Not Caring.” [points to self] — Perry Cox

58 “If you're worried about people seeing your ass, do what all the other girls do and tie a sweater around your waist.” — Perry Cox

59 “Should I talk slower or get a nurse that speaks fluent moron?” — Perry Cox

60 “Do you actually listen to yourself when you speak, or do you find you drift in and out?” — Perry Cox

61 [thinking] Why don't I ever listen to me? — JD

62 “And you know what else? I quit!” “No you don't!” “Well I'm leaving early today!” “No, you're not! You're coming back to my office to do busy work!” “Fine, but I'm getting a soda first!” “Whatever.” — Ted Buckland and Bob Kelso

63 “Your dog is creepy.” “Aww...be nice to Rowdy. The guy we bought him from used to keep him in a box full of old hats.” — Elliot and JD

64 “I thought we cared about each other ...” “Oh please, if you didn't want to sleep with me, you'd have done the same thing.” “Well, I'll tell you one thing, the last thing in the world I wanna do is sleep wit'cha now!” “Do me right here.” “Okay.” “See!” — JD and Elliot

65 “Huh! I put all those fliers up, and nobody wants me to live with them!” “Oh, come on, NAME. I'm sure you'll eventually find a roommate who's a... clean, non-smoking vegetarian that rinses the shower thoroughly after each usage.” “Oh, well, if you don't, it gets mildewy.” “You know, you should move in with my friend: Anal McLooney.” — Elliot and JD

66 “You know, I've been thinking a lot about us lately.” “Me too.” “God, you drive me crazy.” “Oh, you drive me crazy!” “Sometimes I just lay awake at night, thinking about how unbelievably lucky I am to have you in my life.” “Sometimes you're so controlling it makes me want to strangle you..” — Paul and Elliot

67 “Tonight, I am going to make all of your fantasies come true.” “You know, NAME, I would be happy just to have sex above the covers once.” “Yeah ... never gonna happen.” — Elliot and Paul

68 “You know, it's funny... when I said "I love you," it was an accident - and I never really loved you at all.” “That is an absolute riot.” — Elliot and Paul

69 “Okay, here's what you do: First you say that, even though our relationship is ending, you don't have any regrets.” “Oh, my God! Are you actually telling me how to break up with you?” “You're right. Go ahead.” “If you could just start me off, that'd be super.” — Paul and Elliot

70 Person A “You never explained that U2 thing, did you!” Person B “You know, I've been thinking about it, and maybe it's not such a bad thing that that happened! Right? I mean, things have been going really well between us, and maybe it was fate! I could've been looking at my Bel Biv Devoe CD and said, "I love Bel Biv Devoe" - which I do, by the way. And I'm not ashamed of it.” Person A and B “That girl is poison..." Person A “NAME, look, I just think that if you guys are meant to get to this point, it'll happen... naturally.” Person B “You're right! "I love U2!" Dammit! Why do I always have to say every little thing that comes into my head!? Ugh, I really wish you wouldn't stand so close to me after you take your hummus break. See! I didn't need to say that! I'm gonna tell him.” Person C “Love you!” Person B “Love you more!” Person A “Ugh!” Person B “You know what - brush your teeth, then judge me!” — Carla, Elliot and Paul

#scrubs prompts #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #drabble prompts #scrubs quotes #john jd dorian #christopher turk #carla espinosa #perry cox #bob kelso #ted buckland #elliot reid #long post

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