#how come we turned a function that was supposed to just organise posts into a genre of its own? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makingspiritualityreal · 3 years

Photo

Numerology Life Path 4 - Your Birth Card and its Ruling Planet

Numerology Life Path Numbers and their assigned Tarot Card Meaning Series

This is a post in my new astrology/numerology/tarot series, that only concerns you, if you are a Life Path 4. Posts on consecutive Life Path Numbers will follow. Originally, I wanted to do them all in one post, but my writing turned out to be so long, I decided to split the post and seperate the Life Path Numbers. The introduction part of the post will be the same for all Life Path Numbers, in case you only read a post about your own Life Path Number, and nothing else.

Introduction

The concept of a Birth Card links Tarot and Numerology together, in order to deepen our understanding of a vibration of a Life Path Number we are born with. The Birth Card, or rather Birth Cards, are Major Arcana Tarot Cards with assigned numbers, which correlate with Life Path Numbers. Understanding the meaning of tarot cards, mixed with the knowledge of Numerology Vibrations, helps create a more unique vision of your life experience.

A person with any given Life Path Number, having several Major Arcana energies present in their lives, usually struggles with one of the energies more than the other. As a result, life will probably force them to focus on mastering one of these energies. In general, however, any Life Path describes both your biggest downfall and ultimate triumph - just like with an Astrology Chart, the highlighted numbers/astrology houses point to your biggest strengths and weaknesses. For a better understanding of this concept, visit my article “Natal Chart - A map of your issues?”

Remember, that everyone, besides their Life Path Number and Birth Card also has a unique astrology chart. Thus, for some people embracing the higher expression of their energy is easier, for others it’s harder and it takes more time to master, and some energies become easier to deal with than others. Most human beings are somewhere in between, working on their path and having some achievements while struggling with difficulties at the same time.

In the spiritual community, there are differences in opinion on linking Astrological Planets and positions to specific numerology numbers energies. My take is a result of my own personal experience, conversations with other people in my field and research, in order to give you the widest possible spectrum of ideas and increase the understanding of every Life Path Number.

If you are a Master Number 11, 22 or 33, there will be a seperate post on how the Birth Cards apply to you as well.

Even If you have only a basic understanding of Astrology, Tarot or Numerology, this post will still be helpful to you, because it describes the unique vibrational mix that comes from the expression of both these spiritual sciences mixed together. To calculate which Tarot Cards and what Life Path correspond to your birthday, click here.

Life Path 4 - The Emperor and Death

Number 4 throughout cultures has many interpretations, both in Numerology and Astrology. Since there are different opinions on what Astrological planet is ruled by this number, I will give interpretations for all these planets influencing the vibration of Life Path 4, with the additional benefit of my personal experience. Astrological energies associated with this Life Path are linked to the Sun, Saturn, Uranus and Rahu, depending on the cultural context. One thing that these placements all have in common, is that this is definitely not one of the carefree energies. The common theme of Life Path 4 is substance. This is the energy, that will throw all the superficial, light-hearted themes away in search for something more meaningful, or at least the idea of building it. Prioritising and groundwork are huge themes for Life Path 4s, as this is the energy that doesn’t like to stay idle or waste its time.

Life Path 4 represents the shadow expression of Sun, as opposed to Life Path 1. It is important to note, that “shadow” doesn’t mean inferior, and both aspects of the Sun energy have their positive and negative side, each contributing to development of the human condition in its own unique way. The Sun expressing itself through Life Path 4 results in hyperfocusing on the material realm. Since the Sun burns what it touches, at its lowest it can lead to selfishness and insensitivity, and make a person out of touch on the inside of themselves, even if on the outside they are accomplished. However, this also makes the native very mature and dependable. Unlike the carefree, childlike Sun for a Life Path 1, this Sun is very committed to building something for both themselves and the world, thus being focused more on the practical support role than the more so innocent 1 vibration. The key here is finding balance and not falling into destructive practical habitual cycles.

A Life Path 4 under stress can have workaholic tendencies, as a way to quell the constant urge to build stability, and avoid the chaos that every human being has inside themselves. This is the expression of the shadow side of Rahu rulership, witch chases the illusion of fulfillment through material success, without looking at the spiritual truth of things. However, not confronting one’s demons, a Life Path 4 can struggle finding emotional comfort, that comes from emotional purging, and truly knowing yourself. As a result, this Life Path number can seem ruthless when unhappy in how it can cut things off - a darker expression of Sun turning off it’s shine, which in turn relates to the Death card in tarot, and also links the Sun energy to the Saturnian vibe of Life Path 4. A mature expression of Life Path 4, that is associated with the Sun ties in with the connection to Rahu energies of building constructively in the material world, and self sufficiency, which is also linked to the Emperor Tarot card, indicating his supreme rulership, and mental control over the material world. This is the more difficult path for the Sun, and it exposes, how the Sun can stop shining and giving life, and how it can also burn as well as nourish, which again ties in with the karmic lessons of Saturn of the duality of the spiritual reality of the world.

Other keywords for Life Path 4 are Power and Struggle - Saturn themes. Just like Saturn in Astrology, the Death card in Tarot takes something away, but only to teach you the value of what you have or the deeper truth of the matter - things that die, go away from us, because they were supposed to. The Emperor in tarot points to the ultimate power of the mind, that we all possess, the ability of discernment, that we can chose to use even in the most difficult situation, the ability to build something solid and powerful out of nothing, even after difficult events, represented by the Death card. We have the possibility to accomplish those feats with our sheer willpower and discipline, through the use of Saturnian energies.

Life Path 4 is also linked with Rahu and Uranus, tying it with Saturn through Aquarian energies. Uranus expresses itself through powerful intellectual inspiration, a sudden appearance of an idea inside a strong mind, that The Emperor represents. Uranus also shows us, that the idea can come seemingly out of nowhere, after the Death card process. Saturn tying in with Uranus teaches us, that whenever we have a brilliant idea, we have to take a chance, and use this idea to capitalise and build on it.

Rahu for a Life Path 4 gives the ultimate power of the logical pursuit of the material realm, which the Emperor has a gift for, but also warns us of the endings that will come, if we allow ourselves to emotionally decay. Then, the Death card steps in, to lead us to a new beginning.

Tarot cards associated with this Life Path show us how to use its energy best for a fulfilling life.

The Emperor - This cards points out to Life Path 4’s need to have a functioning structure in their life. Any situation, either practical or emotional, no matter how difficult, can be handled with organisation over time. A good way for a Life Path 4 to manage their life is to have a system, that they can design to address all their needs, satisfy all parts of themselves, and not lose themselves in the process. This is their way of keeping up with reality, while dealing with human fragility at the same time. It’s important that the system stays logical and functioning, and constantly kept in check, or it becomes a coping mechanism, that traps a Life Path 4. However, the Emperor has the ruling power to make a good judgment call.

Death - Points out to the spiritual truth, that sometimes in life, no matter how hard we were building something, things fall apart, as their life cycle comes to an end. Death here gives us the gift of mercilessly cutting off what is no longer working and thus not needed. Death appreciates the brutal facing of the facts and necessary endings, all in order to clear up space for more constructive, future building. A Life Path 4 struggles in this department, because it wants stability so badly it can hold on to a familiar system desperately. However, Death teaches us, that transformation is a necessary part of the process, in order to actually build anything solid and authentic in life.

Number 4 is known to have negative associations in the mass consciousness, being a hard number to master. It expresses itself in Feng Shui, but also for example in Japanese culture, where the number is avoided in buildings. To a common person, it’s simply a mix of superstition and cultural habits, but there is energetic truth, long forgotten by the masses, behind the seemingly sinister vibration of this number. If you want proof, look at 2020, a universal Number 4 Year and what a mess it was, what a trial, for so many people.

However, the energetic frequency is always polarised, and no number is purely negative. Behind the obstacles and difficulties presented to this Life Path, lies enormous stability and the ultimate building power. Why the negative association then? The answer lies in the human condition. As human beings, collectively, we fear death, we both desire and demonise power, and we underestimate, how much strength and hard work lies beneath the frequency of Life Path 4.

If you are a Life Path 4, embrace both the power and the challenges that come with it. Remember, that your birth is a divinely orchestrated event. You were given these gifts for a reason, and only you can use them. Don’t listen to the collective narrative, and make the most out of your life. More than any other Life Path, you know exactly how to.

#numerology #tarot #astrology #making spirituality real #birth cards #birth card #the emperor #death #sun #saturn #rahu #life path #numerology life path

53 notes · View notes

nissakii · 3 years

Text

Is Kageyama Tobio an ISTJ? - MBTI Analysis with functions

Spoiler warning for the entirety of the Haikyuu!! anime Parts of the manga after chapter 292 will not be discussed. Thread with caution dear reader!

This is the new and improved MBTI type analysis for the Haikyuu!! character Kageyama Tobio. You can read the old one here.

After a lot of research and also input from other readers and writers, we have started to analyse and type differently when it comes to the Myers Briggs Type Indicator. There are tools out there better equipped to type and examine the abundance of personalities out there which are called cognitive functions.

You might already be aware of it, but Makii has delved deep into those functions for her BNHA Compatibility : La Brava and Gentle/Sidekick and her Villain post. With extensive research, she has brought up beautiful points there, please feel free to check it out!

Now that we know about these functions, and Haikyuu!! To the Top is in our arsenal as well, I shall go over Kageyama’s personality type again and we will see if he still is our ISTJ setter!

Now to explain first before we dive into Kageyama’s personality, what exactly are those functions?

This time, instead of going with the Letters that you might already know (I/E, N/S, T/F and P/J) and shuffling those together, we are looking at four core functions that play out differently in each person.

Explanation is coming, stay with us!

These core four are the perceiving functions; Sensing (S) and Intuition (N), and the judging functions; Thinking (T) and Feeling (F).

The judging functions, as the name reiterates, shows us how someone judes things. How they make their decisions and what their values are. What does the person do with information taken from their surroundings? How do they analyse it?

The perceiving functions on the other hand are all about the perceptions of said information. When you look at the world, what do they see? What stays in their head? What catches their eye and how do they interact with it all?

It's easier to remember when you think of the concept as taking in information and then sorting it.

Now each person has a natural preference as to how they use their function. In this case we look at extraversion and introversion again, and see how their functions are used. If one f.e. prefers to use their Sensing trait internally we will add a small ‘i’ next to it so it becomes introverted Sensing Si.

Looks familiar?

These are the small abbreviations you might see around when looking at type discussions, and then they are arranged in the order of preference.

With the stack we always alternate between introverted and extroverted functions, and the order of the functions are always JPPJ or PJJP (Perceiving and Judging) which now forms our previously known 16 personality types!

The four functions get stacked and form the “Function stack” or “Cognitive stack” which can look a little like this:

Fi (Introverted Feeling) Ne (Extroverted Intuition)

Si (Introverted Sensing) Te (Extroverted Thinking)

This would’ve been my personal stack as an INFP, and an even better way to properly look at how the personality type works. The first function in the stack is the most prominent and the last is the weakest, which can already tell you a lot about how a person sees the world.

Now that we have finished this rather lengthy explanation, let’s dive into Kageyama Tobio’s cognitive functions shall we?

Dominant Function: Si

The dominant function is the first function, and the one that encompasses said person the most. It is their core being, what they truly are and what most people see for the first time.

The dominant function also establishes if the person behaves like an extrovert or an introvert.

“I am not introverted!” is what we hear from Kageyama the first time this topic is mentioned in the anime. But is that really true? He is often seen as reserved and collected from the outside. A forceful and possessing figure,

“The King”.

Extroversion and Introversion is easier explained if we take it like the workings of a battery. As Makii has mentioned in her post as well, if you spend a lot of time with people do you feel more energized or is your energy depleted afterwards?

I feel like it’s important to mention that Kageyama’s biggest passion is volleyball, which is amplified by him saying how he would despair only if he couldn’t play volleyball anymore.

As an athlete Kageyama can’t really play volleyball alone, so saying he’s extroverted just because he’s always adamant on playing doesn’t really prove if he’s an extrovert.

In this case, what is the first thing we see with Kageyama? What would be the most dominant function for him?

If we typed him right the last time, and he actually is an ISTJ, that would be the Sensing function.

Sensing is the perceiving function that is all about organisation and strong discipline. People with dominant Sensing have the innate ability to look at what they do and maximize everything to the fullest potential. As we’ve established that kageyama definitely behaves like an introvert even though he might have some outbursts, that makes his first function ‘introverted Sensing’ or Si.

Kageyama still has his priorities laid out in front of him, but he is also very particular on how things are supposed to be done. He accumulates information and experiences from his past and uses those to evaluate current facts.

That is why Si-Te characters are often shown to be adamant on their strategies or typical 'textbook' learners. They do things in a mundane and familiar way rather than try out new things.

He’s known as the genius who is able to make incredible sets with shocking precision, and he has the highest expectations on himself and others. His Si is what makes him think deeply of only the things he is interested in, and makes sure to use practical and methodical ways of action. All of this is internalized in Kageyama’s brain, he doesn’t talk much about it and sometimes even has no concept of it himself, but his work ethic and controlling nature shows us that this function fits him very well.

Auxiliary Function: Te

The Auxiliary function is the second most preferred and used function, especially there to support the first dominant function. As the first function in introverts is internal, the second is external and therefore extroverted.

It is the first and most immediate thing that will be noticed by others when they interact with Kageyama.

His Si might be internal and therefore established when he is focused or when he lets other people see it, his Auxiliary as an ISTJ would be the Thinking function.

Extroverted Thinking, or also Te would show his love for routine and efficiency and also the reason why Kageyama often works to his limits and trains properly everyday to attain his goals. It also fuels his competitiveness, which is the first thing Hinata sensed about him when they met.

It is all about winning and winning until he beats Oikawa and becomes the best of the best.

Him being a hothead would explain that his Thinking trait is extroverted, when it comes to his training regimen for example Kageyama is very strict. He understands the importance of pushing his limits and working through every obstacle until it is solved.

His first two functions Si-Te show the adamant way of carefully planning the way he needs to pursue their goals.

Like mentioned before with the first quote of Kageyama wanting to win all his games in the future, those are not just empty words. He is shown to have a training routine that he follows diligently and he always nags Hinata to not just hit spikes but also work on his weak receives.

This also explains the white board in Kageyama’s room that shows a very complex workout schedule.

Kageyama’s goal is to stay on the court the longest and become the absolute best, and he is aware that all of that doesn’t come from nothing. Logic, strategy and internalizing and sticking with his own principles is a strong indicator for his Si-Te stack.

We often see that Kageyama still has some difficulties using his Auxiliary Te, as he tends to overindulge in this function. Especially when Kageyama is stressed or overwhelmed by a situation, we can see that more clearly.

He then tends to become very stiff and his judgment turns very black and white, which is seen for example when he already decided for himself what the role of the setter entails. Instead of looking at it from the perspective of Hinata as well, which was a piece of advice Oikawa had to give him before he could understand that more fully.

These traits make him very inflexible which turns to him not being able to change plans and ideas, we see this when he was reluctant to change the quick attack to something that could've been improved.

His recent interactions in season four are also an indicator of his stiff and humorless attitude that conforms his Auxiliary. It's the reason why Atsumu was able to get into his head space while calling him a "goody two shoes", which Kageyama couldn't fully understand until he broke apart.

Tertiary Function: Fi

The Tertiary function is now one of the weaker and strained functions that a person exhibits. As the first two functions of the stack show us the accumulated personality of someone, we must know that balance is very important.

The third and supporting function makes sure that there is a healthy balance in the cognitive stack and it also acts as a slow break to the first two.

Kageyama’s third function should be an internalized one, as we’ve established in the beginning that the functions alternate from being extroverted and introverted. For his personal stack, the next function is his introverted Feeling or Fi for short.

To his very analytical and strategic behaviour, to conform to a good balance the setter needs to learn how to factor his own and other people’s emotions into the mix.

Fi exhibits itself as a sort of sensitivity to other people’s feelings. In the first season of Haikyuu!! We see Kageyama slowly and politely trying to sense the people around him in a very clumsy manner. He needs to know how he can take the perspectives of other people and apply them to his own course of action.

“Azumane-san, how was that toss just now?”

Pairing well with his observant nature, he accumulates actual facts to accommodate his peers. He might have a problem getting his emotions in check, but when it comes to volleyball his straightforward approach is what helps him determine how to f.e. set to someone new. In this moment his Fi becomes a gentle reminder that he needs to dial it down sometimes and consider how others feel.

Even if he does register other people’s emotions he uses them in a logical context instead of an emotional one, while keeping facts and logical aspects like skill and technique as a first priority.

And that is why his Feeling trait is less prominent, but still an important asset to his whole stack. If he overindulges in his Auxiliary and uses his inferior Feeling trait to compensate for that overly stiff and possessive nature, he might fall into what we call on this instance a Fi loop.

Signs for such a Fi loop would be the reluctance to see that problems are getting worse by using a black and white approach or knowing that the current course of actions could be improved but not changing it.

We can see this when Kageyama knew exactly that the first quick attack was stopped by other good players and could be improved, but did not back away from his original play. Even though Hinata told him to his face that it soon wouldn't work anymore.

He then interprets his own feelings as immediate facts and factors them into his decision making as "facts" which only fuels his Auxiliary Te, and then the loop continues.

Kageyama sees himself as the best and strives to overcome everyone who is in the way, so in his case he interprets his own feelings of "I am good/better" into actually being factual. His own feelings then cooperate to back up his own strategies.

Inferior Function: Ne

The infamous last function is also called the inferior function, and as the name states the most weak.

It is a person's emergency break or great strength and if not developed fully, can be their achilles heel.

It may be the weakest function of one's stack, but it has a huge impact for when it actually comes out. For the analytical type that Kageyama is, his Feeling and Intuition are bound to be the latter functions in his stack. That doesn't mean that he is emotionless or doesn’t like to try out new things true to his Intuition, it just means that he personally would rather value things by rationality and logic than emotion and theory.

Still, his Extroverted Intuition or his Ne is what wants new and exciting ideas to develop in his thought process. As it is the inferior function, it is only usable in small amounts of time and often associated less with Kageyama’s true character.

A good example for a Ne and Si conflict would be the season two improved quick attack.

As a Si-Dom he is less imaginative and likes to use things that always work for him. If he finds a safe route, he will cling to that stability and continue to pursue it, disregarding everything else.

When Kageyama started on the “freak attack” with Hinata he found said stability. Seeing the immediate boost it gave the team and the satisfaction that Hinata had in the beginning, it was especially hard for him later when the middle blocker demanded more.

Why change something if it is already perfect?

To have a direct comparison, Oikawa with introverted Intuition (Ni) as his Auxiliary function immediately saw room for improvement behind the success rate and a chance to make something “perfect” even better, while Kageyama was clutching on the current path that was successful.

Oikawa took his time to give every member in Karasuno advice and tips on how to improve, he is often seen observing in the background and pushing everyone he works with to their fullest potential. That is his internalized dialogue that plays with new ideas and concepts as he takes in his world.

When it came to the freak quick attack, it was shown that Kenma with extroverted Intuition (Ne) as his Auxiliary saw the weakness in it as well, pushing Hinata to want to improve it.

Kageyama's weakness is that he didn’t see the bigger picture, but only the short term solution that was most effective.

Another reason why the inferior function is so important, is because under high amounts of stress any personality can fall into an episode called ‘the grip’, in Kageyama's case that would be the infamous Ne-grip.

If caught in a spiral of routine that is a lot higher and alarming than most other days, a Si-Te with Ne grip can get irrationally scared of the future and compare it to bad things that happened in the past. Freezing up and getting the feeling that something may have already gone wrong 'just like last time'.

A good example for a really strong Ne-grip for Kageyama would be his middle school experience with his team when they abandoned him finally after he taunted them for their efforts and this memory makes him stop in his tracks and over think his current state.

His fear of situations taking a wrong turn and reliving past mistakes again makes Kageyama show signs of Ne-grip.

It's Hinata or the general new support system of Karasuno and even Oikawa who have to pull him out of his grip, when he starts to get overwhelmed by the sheer possibility of something going wrong just like last time.

Conclusion:

After this new analysis and with the help of other researchers and the personality database, it is now well established that I truly believe Kageyama is an ISTJ.

The reserved and logically inclined Si-Te setter who can still be a bit emotional with his Fi might feel quite ambiguous, still I think that his responses to sudden change and inefficiency due to his inferior Ne already determine a lot about him and his personality.

It truly was a pleasure to look at this whole analysis again and see if Kageyama was truly typed correctly, and I encourage every single one of you to look into your own cognitive stack to find out more about yourself!

Now what do you guys think? Agree or disagree with me? I would love to know if you have typed with or without functions in the past and what your experience with it is!

Until then, to the next tea time!

Ah~ this tea tastes the same and yet… Quite different now~

-Nissa

9 notes · View notes

solkat-edits · 4 years

Text

woah a pq sprite edit tutorial ft. mod kk (paint tool SAI)

MOD KK....: SO UH. this is primarily to help a pal of mine, but like i thought it’d be good to make a post / tutorial in general, so here’s a tutorial which features the process of how i did this dave

since i use sai, this is a tutorial mainly for sai, but you can follow along easily on other art programs since functions are similar and etc. the link to the sai i use can be found here.

tutorial starts under the read more:

BEFORE WE START, any sai users, here are my brush settings regarding lineart / linking, and in general, these are the settings I use for all my art and edits. Size wise, I usually draw with 1, but for line width, I’ll change between 1, 0.8, and 1.5.

1. So first and foremost (wow, look the way I’m typing got more formal), you want to open the sprite you want to edit on. Here I have Dave. A good resource for sprites / assets from PQ is from this blog, in case any one needs it.

2. If you need to, make edits to the base. Usually, if not the hair, I’ll make an edit to the character’s shading colour or their face. In this instance, it’s going to be the latter. So in this picture, what you want to do is colour pick from his skin, make a new layer and on that layer, you’ll ‘erase’ (draw over) his expression.

2.1. Lower the opacity on the coloured over layer so that you can see his original expression- mainly I do this so I can see the proper placement of his facial features and such. Here, I’ll sketch the change I want.

2.2. After it’s sketched out, I’ll line it proper and fill it in, and now he’s like smug (shame that it gets covered up by his bangs in the finished edit).

3. Now we’re to the fun part! Well, onto the more fun parts. Here is where we’ll start our sketching. Sketching isn’t mandatory, especially on smaller, minor edits such as changing shirt colours or adding small accessories, but if you want do things like drastically change their haircut, or to give them a new outfit entirely, sketching is probably a good idea. Anyways, lower the base’s opacity, and then decide what kind of outfit you want to sketch on your base, and do it.

4. After sketching, you’re gonna line! Lower the opacity on both the base and the sketch- though that’s probably a given. Completely optional, but I tend to put my layers in a folder set for organisation purposes. Also, please name your layers, it’ll help you good (OKAY SO LMAO. I forgot to take the screenshot of me mid lining, so I eyeballed all my finished lines out to make it look like it was incomplete.)

4.1: Anyways, yay! The lining’s complete. I know this is supposed to be a tutorial, but process photos are fun too.

5. Now we’re onto pre colouring. I say pre colouring because this is like setting the base for colouring? Yeah. Anyways, I’ve made another folder set for colouring, pulled the base sprite into it, and then set a coloured background under the base for transparency and etc- I usually go with a colour which will contrast the piece’s main palette, which in this case, is blacks and shades of red.

5.1. Now we’re going to put the base colour into the newly created lineart. What we’ll do here is turn the transparency on the base sprite down till it’s completely gone, and then we select every inside of the lineart.

5.2: With the base ‘white’ (the greyish white) colour from Dave’s original sprite, we’ll fill the lineart.

5.3 However, after this, you’re going to want to check your transparency because it won’t always be perfect- actually, it won’t be perfect. Usually, you’ll get that small, shitty white outline which overall imo ruins the piece when it’s transparent.

5.4. What you’re going to want to do to rid of this, is- going back to 5.2, after you’ve filled it, and you still have the selection on, you’re going to reverse the selection (arrow pointing to it, ‘pologies for non sai users because I don’t know the equivalent), and then erase. It’ll seem like you’re just erasing the background, but I swear it’s worth it.

5.5 See? Now it’s clean. Yay!!!

5.6 After that’s figured out, you’re going to want to redirect your attention back to the base sprite, and then erase all the shit that’s leftover from it, such as Dave’s sleeve which is poking out from the side, as shown in the pic.

5.7 Bam. And now he’s all cleaned up proper and ready to roll.

5.8 A completely optional step, but my favourite since I love lining. What I usually do, so that the lines look smooth(er), and more precise with the style, is that I ink it a bit to create line width variation in certain parts of the sprite, and also to create shadows.

6. Finally on colouring- I’m probably numbering all this shit wrong, but you know what, I sucked at math. Anyways, colouring- figure out your palette, and basically base colour parts of your sprite. The blackish part on the shirt is an airbrush texture.

6.1. Tip: If you’re using dark greys or blacks, I’d recommend just picking the exact shades from other PQ sprites so they’re all??? Idk, the same? To put it simply??? Yeah.

6.2. Shading is- another probably basic thing, but I’m explaining my particular process, but how I go about shading is by making a clipping layer over the layer I’m currently shading on to ensure that it only colours on that part. Then, I put it on multiply, and then toggle around till I get a good mid shade. To each their own, however, these are just my tips and tricks that I use personally.

6.3. And after you’ve shaded your entire piece, you’re done! Yay, he’s edgy now!

6.4. Though I did make my end sprite with a texture, and for SAI users, it’s relatively easy. Just open the png file of your sprite so that all your layers are in one and it’s a happy pic, and then go to to the textures drop down menu and select your texture. For this, I decide to use the grunge texture. I also used this texture on my Derse Prince edit, and I used a TV screen texture on one of my Hal edits. I don’t know if texture packs come with other art programs, but if they do, just experiment and see what you like! It’s not obligatory, but it’s a nice touch for some edits.

Other than that! We’re finished! I hope you enjoyed- apologies if anything said was over complicated haha ;;.

#mod karkat #kk edits #sprite tutorial #homestuck sprite edit #homestuck sprite edits #pesterquest sprite edit #pesterquest sprite edits #homestuck sprite tutorial #pesterquest sprite tutorial #homestuck edit #pesterquest edit #dave strider #im not mass tagging this im lazy;;;;;#also that carpel tunnel is kicking in lmao

180 notes · View notes

whenihaveyouromione · 4 years

Text

When I Have You - Chapter 6

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you’d prefer!

Follow this story’s Instagram account (without spaces) ‘whenihaveyou . romione’ for extra content.

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

Chapter 6

"When do you guys leave, then?"

"The twenty-second of June," Hermione said. "I've organised it all with the Ministry. We'll be travelling by Portkey there and back. There's no return date booked, though, as no one can tell me how long it might take to… restore their memories. It may take weeks, even months. We just don't know."

Ron sat with Hermione, Harry, and Ginny in front of Florean Fortescue's ice-cream parlour. Like the rest of Diagon Alley, it had reopened at the start of June. It almost felt like how it used to be: people bustling about as if, only a month earlier, a war had not taken place.

It was weird doing something as normal as sitting out the front of a shop in Diagon Alley after the past few years, but it was a welcomed relief. The weather was wonderful as summer was so nearly upon them.

Hermione had kept the news about her parents a secret until she had had everything sorted with the Ministry. She hadn't wanted to burden anyone else with her worries, especially not Harry, who was still trying to cope with his own inner demons. Ron had gladly kept her secret. He knew it wasn't going to be a holiday as such, but the idea of going away with her, just the two of them (and her parents, he supposed), appealed to him. Maybe, if Hermione was successful in reversing the memory charm, they could actually take a holiday. Merlin knew they all needed it.

Now, about two weeks out from their impending departure, she had broken the news to Harry and Ginny over some ice-cream.

Harry had been shocked that she'd managed to find her parents so quickly, but pleased at the same time. Ginny had beamed at the news and said she was happy for her.

"It's amazing how quickly things change," Ginny mused. "I mean, six weeks ago we were… well, now look: sitting out the front of an ice-cream shop on a nice warm day. Who would have thought it?"

“It’s something I’ve missed,” Harry said. “Being free.”

After finishing their ice-creams, the four of them decided to venture down the alley to see what was open. Madam Malkin’s was functioning again, as was Ollivander’s. In fact, almost everything was open and bustling with business as it had been before the war. Everything, they knew, except the joke shop.

They stopped out the front of Fred and George’s shop, looking up at the boarded windows and locked doors.

“When do you think he’ll be ready to open it again?” Hermione asked quietly.

“I’m not sure he’ll ever be ready,” Ginny said, and Ron privately agreed. It was something Fred and George had put their hearts and souls in together; they had devised the products, done the marketing, opened the shop—all of it done as a team. Now that one of them could never set foot inside again, Ron understood the burden George would feel in returning to the business.

“Surely he’d have to one day,” Hermione said. “I mean… it’s so popular!”

“One day, maybe,” Ron said, taking her hand. “But I don’t think any time soon.”

Another thing Ron realised he liked doing with Hermione was simply holding her hand. It seemed silly, but as they’d been nowhere but the Burrow, he’d not really had any need to do it. Now that they’d found reason to set foot outside, he found himself constantly reaching for her hand just to hold. She didn’t seem to mind either, always smiling when he reached for her. He was also thrilled when she was the one to initiate it at times, too.

“It’s a real shame,” Hermione continued, “because I think getting back into it would really help George. Maybe we should help him get it up and running again? Like, clean it up, get all the products on the shelves…”

“Just how much do you plan on doing, Hermione?” Harry asked, sounding amused. “You want to write a book, you’re going to Australia to bring your parents back, and now you want help reopen George’s shop.”

Hermione flushed. “I just thought giving him a kickstart would motivate him…” She looked at Ron, as if appealing for him to back her up.

Ron smiled. Merlin, he loved her. The look he gave her must have shown that, because Ginny made a disgusted noise and pushed Harry forward, muttering to him about why bothering to come out at all, if they didn’t seem to exist.

They all continued on down the street, passing by Gringotts, which had somehow managed to reopen following the destruction left by Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s escape on the back of a dragon some weeks ago. The post office, the menagerie, everything was back.

Harry decided to step into the menagerie to look at owls, but it seemed that none of them measured up to Hedwig and he left empty-handed, his mood slightly deflated once more. It wasn’t until they decided to start heading back did Ron really notice how people stopped and stared as they walked by. Truthfully, he’d been too caught up looking at Hermione to really realise what anyone else was doing.

“That’s him,” he heard someone whisper as they stopped near Gringotts. Ron looked around. A couple, perhaps in their thirties, were standing together, whispering and pointing. It seemed that everyone else had also noticed, because Harry was turning red and wearing a scowl. Harry’s eyes stayed fixed on the ground they were walking.

The further they walked, the more people now stopped to point. Some even chanced approaching them — mostly Harry — and one small boy even had the courage to ask Harry for an autograph.

Ron laughed at that, and the boy scurried away, red-faced.

“Is this what it’s going to be like now?” Ginny asked Harry. “People staring wherever you go?”

“Not much has changed,” Ron said. “Now, he’s just more famous than before.”

“Maybe we should head back?” Harry suggested, looking very uncomfortable.

They all agreed and skulked along the side alleys to avoid the crowd as much as possible. They reached the safety of the Leaky Cauldron and hurried into the fireplace before they could draw anymore attention to themselves.

Once back at the Burrow, they were greeted by a concerned Molly. “You are all back sooner than I expected.”

“We got stopped,” Ron said. “People saw Harry and —” he laughed, “— wanted his autograph.”

Hermione nudged him in the ribs, shooting him a reproving look.

“Ouch!” Ron said, rubbing the spot she’d got him. “Is this what it’s going to be like now? You having a go at me every time I say something you don’t approve of?”

Hermione smiled at him in a way that told him that was exactly how it was going to be.

Ron scowled. “Well, I suppose nothing’s changed then. Now I’m really looking forward to Australia with you.”

The room fell silent.

“... Australia?”

Ron could have kicked himself. Telling his mother about his future plans had been something he’d avoided for the very reason that he was facing now. Hearing her worry.

Looking at Hermione, who was staring intently at something ahead, Ron turned to his mother and said, “Hermione found her parents in Australia. Well, the Ministry did. They’ve organised for her to get there and back via Portkey, and she’ll be restoring their memories. And… I’m going with her.”

He braced himself for being told he couldn’t go, for his mum telling him he had no place leaving the family at this time and that he was needed here. But that didn’t come. His mother paled ever so slightly, but perhaps thinking of what had happened before, all she did was nod. “You are of age, Ronald, and I can’t stop you. How long will you be gone for? When do you leave?”

Ron looked at Hermione again.

“We leave in about two weeks,” Hermione said. “And the Ministry has planned for a month, though I do hope it won’t be that long. I’m hoping… it’ll be relatively easy to restore their memories, and then I can bring them home quickly.” A tear trickled down her cheek, and Ron instinctively moved to comfort her.

“I see.” Molly looked back at Ron. He could see she was really restraining to say what she wanted to say. “Well, we will have to make the most of your time here then.”

Ron looked down, feeling guilty. He’d promised her no more secrets, and yet he’d not told her immediately after agreeing to go. He could tell she was upset, but really, it was Hermione’s story to tell and it was why he hadn’t said anything until now.

“Sorry, Mum,” he mumbled.

“Not to worry, Ron,” Molly said. “You’ll of course be missed, but with any luck, you’ll be back in no time.”

“Hopefully,” Ron said, his ideas of spending some additional alone time with Hermione fading quickly.

“Well,” Molly said, changing topics, “all four of you can help in the garden. We are degnoming, but also pulling some weeds. We’ve let it go for months, so it’s all hands on deck.”

No one said anything as they were ushered into the garden where Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Percy already were hard at work.

“Nice one, idiot,” Ginny hissed in Ron’s ear. “We could have been using our time better, but you had to open your big mouth, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Ron said. “You’re lucky she’s not yelling at me right now.”

“When were you planning on telling her, by the way?” Ginny asked.

Ron went red. “Just before we left.”

Ginny tutted. “And leave us to deal with the aftermath. Clever.” She shoved him. “Come on, let’s get these gnomes sorted, so we don’t have to be out here any longer. First to ten gets off cooking dinner tonight.”

“You’re on,” Ron said, grinning. Despite his dislike of the task, it felt good to be doing something ‘normal’ at home again. Even if he knew Ginny would probably beat him.

19 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

CSI Rogers And Barnes: The Serious Cereal Serial Killer. Episode 17- At Last Pt. 1

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: It’s Tony’s wedding weekend, and the usual fun and antics ensue. Then Steve and Katie take an extra evening in Manhattan, where Steve has a little surprise of his own planned.

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT IN PART 2 (NO UNDER 18s and NSFW)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So this is it. The FINAL CSI: Rogers and Barnes instalment. (Well, bar an Epilogue…) and it’s long so we split into 2. This has been one hell of a ride! It’s been a total playground for us, seeing how many stupid references and ridiculous actions we could fit in, and our first collaboration. We hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as we have. Myself and Storm love each and every one of you who’ve taken the time to read, like, comment and re-bog.

We love you 3000…

CSI R&B Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter Song: At Last- Etta James

You smile, and then the spell was cast, and here we are in heaven for you are mine. At Last.

Steve stretched out, rolling over and reached out for Katie only for his hand to meet a cold, empty mattress. He opened his eyes, confused for a second at the unfamiliar surroundings before he realised he was in his room at the Plaza…and it’s the morning of Tony’s wedding. His head was a little fuzzy due to the drinks last night which had gone on late and he could remember sitting in Tony’s suite drinking the bottle of scotch Sam had pilfered from the free bar at the rehearsal party. They had an impromptu party once the girls had left for Pepper and Tony’s and he remembered complaining loudly about why Sam and Bucky got to spend the night together when Katie wasn’t allowed to stya with him.

Jesus what had he turned into? A clingy bastard, that’s what.

He reached for his phone, checking the time which was 9 am. He dropped it back on the bedside table and tried to go back to sleep but he couldn’t. Not without her so he gave up. Firing Katie a quick ‘good morning beautiful’ message, he then kicked off the bed covers and shoved on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Grabbing his kit he decided to head for the pool to make the most of the facilities.

The place was fairly busy considering the time on a Saturday morning, but there was a lane closed off for the ‘serious’ swimmers with no one in it so he made use of that for half an hour before he made his way into the changing rooms and showered. By the time he was drying off in the locker room, Katie had messaged back wishing him a ‘good morning handsome’ and complaining she had a bad head from a lot of champagne. He smiled, replied that he was sure she’d soon get over it when they start again, and then just as he’d done that another message came through. This one from Tony who had apparently ordered a fuck tonne of room service for a breakfast party.

Deciding that wasn’t such a bad idea he replied saying he was on his way, shoved his phone in his pocket, grabbed his kit bag and headed to the elevator. When he got to Tony’s suite he knocked on the door, the faint well natured chatter from inside hit his ears before the door swung open. Rhodey greeted him and Steve stepped in to see Tony led on a chaise in a hotel robe, eating grapes like a Roman Emperor. Steve snorted.

“Having Fun Tony?”

Tony grinned “Am I ever? I love all this. You know, I might get married once every 2 years.” He looked at Steve “You should try it, Rogers.”

Steve rolled his eyes, remembering full well about the ring that was tucked in the safe in his room.

From his spot over by the low coffee table, Bucky shot Steve a glance. He was certain the punk was gonna pop the question this weekend, why else would he have booked an extra night for them to stay in Manhattan on Sunday as well? When Steve suggested it to Katie over breakfast a few weeks ago, he’d simply stated it was an opportunity for them to spend a bit of time together in the run up to Christmas, but if said girl didn’t return to Brooklyn on Monday with a ring on her finger then James Buchanan Barnes would chop of his left arm with a chainsaw.

At that point, Rhodey, ever the tactical, organised man asked Tony what the plan was for the day and Tony simply looked at him, and blinked.

“Aren’t you the best man?”

Bucky sighed “What a waste. I could have been a groomsman….ow!” he hissed, rubbing his side as Sam had elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

Rhodey completely ignored Bucky and looked at Tony “I am, yes, but you’re the Groom.” Tony waved him away “Yeah, yeah. We need to be dressed and in the room for 1. Ceremony is at 1:45, girls should arrive at half past and our stylist is arriving at midday. Easy.”

Steve glanced at his watch and Bucky smirked up at him “Hey, Stevie…only 3 hours till you see her punk…” From besides him, Sam snorted.

“You’re whipped man.”

Steve glared at them both, not even bothering to deny that was what he’d been checking and turned to Tony. “Is Greatmaster…Grandmaster, whatever, your wedding planner coming?” “Right, yeah that….asshole shall be showing up at some point.” Tony rolled his eyes “Fortunately I’m getting rid of him for the day.” He shoved another grape in his mouth and looked at Bruce “Remind me never to hire anyone you or the Bungalow recommend ever again.”

They boys settled down to eat, taking their time, enjoying a bit of banter about the stag do and the previous night’s rehearsal until an hour or so later Tony clapped his hands and stood up.

“Ok boys, suit up.”

Steve made his way back to his room and whilst in the elevator he got another message from Katie. This was a selfie of her in a robe with a glass of champagne having her hair put up. He smiled, responded telling her he couldn’t wait to see her, before the elevator door opened and he headed down to his room. Having already showered he knew he wasn’t in a huge rush so took his time trimming his beard, making sure the lines were crisp before he shrugged on his dress shirt, tying a Windsor in his deep, scarlet tie. Then he pulled on his suit pants, matching waistcoat and then jacket before placing his shiny black oxfords on and stood up. With a little product he styled his hair, making sure it was parted and slicked back as usual before taking a final glance in the mirror, smoothing down his jacket. He had to admit, the suits Tony (or most likely Pepper) had chosen for the Groom’s party were sharp. A black wool blend Tom Ford with a subtle red and gold check detail. Deciding he looked half decent he grabbed his wallet, phone, and room key. Satisfied he didn’t need anything else, he made his way back to Tony’s room.

Once more he gave a rap and the door opened inwards to reveal Grandmaster, smiling at him.

“Good afternoon Mr Rogers, you look dapper.” The man grinned, batting his eyelashes.

“Erm, thanks.” Steve replied in the absence of anything else to say.

“You’re late by the way.” Grandmaster continued.

“What?” Steve frowned, checking his watch to find he wasn’t late. He was never late…

“You’re the last one.” Grandmaster stated, as ways of explanation. “Everyone else is here already.”

“That’ doesn’t mean that I’m late.” Steve shook his head.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Grandmaster replied, batting his eyelashes again.

“Whatever, can I come in?” Steve arched an eyebrow at him.

“Oh yeah, sure. Sorry. I got lost in your eyes for a minute there.”

Steve looked at the man, utterly lost for words. The guy was as nutty as a fruitcake. Steve stepped into the room, turning sideways as Grandmaster did the same smiling at him. He hastily moved into the living area of the suite where Rhodey was doing up Tony’s gold dress tie.

Grandmaster headed over to Bruce, brushing something off the man’s shoulder, smiling “You’ve always been my champion.”

Steve raised his eyebrows before he leaned over to whisper to Sam “How does Bruce know him again?”

“Some Ultimate Fighting online fan group.” Sam said “Bruce and Thor are very into it, apparently, along with one of Thor’s other good friends, Korg.”

“Korg?” Steve looked at Sam.

“Yeah, Thor knew him from his Uni days.” Sam said “They used to be quite political apparently. Tried to organise a protest against fascism but they didn’t print enough pamphlets so hardly anyone turned up.” Steve shook his head, the fact that didn’t surprise him in the slightest was ridiculous, but when it came to this lot, nothing did really, not anymore. It wasn’t long before Tony was ready, and the boys all stood round with one more scotch each before they were ushered, by a now very militant Grandmaster, down to the chapel where the wedding was going to take place in. Once there, Grandmaster headed off to check the function suite was ready for the ‘Post Wedding Meal’. At his muttering of those words, Steve and Tony shared a little grin at the memory of a few weeks ago in Tony’s kitchen.

The Photographer arrived and set about arranging the boys for a few shots. Bucky tried to sneak into most of them, Tony at one point telling him to fuck off from his grooms party shots, which was the WORST thing he could possibly have done, as Bucky then made it his mission to infiltrate as many of them as he could by stealth. Steve had to admit, he couldn’t wait to see the final shots of Bucky popping up all over the place like some kind of nameless assassin.

As they were all having a shot taken just at the doors of the room, Grandmaster bustled back in. “OH. EMM. GEE.” He said, pronouncing each letter, drawing out the vowel sounds. “My crew sent me photos of the girls…you’re all going to DIE when you see them.” He grinned, slapping Steve’s back.

Ducking away from him, Steve checked his watch. 12:15…not long now. But before he could think about it, the first guests started to arrive having been shown the way by the concierge, and it was all to attention and the groomsman duties began.

Approximately 10 or so minutes later, he was just heading back to the door of the chapel having shown the assistant from the lab to her seat when he stopped dead as he saw Katie just outside in the foyer area, locked in an embrace with Tony. He was sure his heart stopped for a beat, fuck, she looked stunning. Her dress was the same colour as his tie, a deep red with a halter neck and a v neckline. It cinched in at the waist, with a fairly loose fitting skirt that had a slit up the side and it accentuated her figure perfectly. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant knot of curls at the back of her head, exposing her delicate neck and shoulders, and the star necklace he bought her twinkled as it sat just below the hollow of her throat. For some reason his mind strayed back to the time he had met her. He’d been invited to Howard’s for dinner a few months after arriving at the 101st and she’d answered the door, dressed in a pair of cut-off jeans, an oversized grey sweater which hung off one shoulder complete with a messy bun on top of her head and the prettiest eyes he had ever seen, eyes which were now popping from underneath a lid of smoky brown and gold eyeshadow. She’d flashed him a smile that day, invited him in, and if he was honest from that moment he’d been a fucking gonner for her. Why he had waited the best part of ten fucking years to even kiss her he would never understand. As he watched her eyes turned to his and she beamed at him. He gave her a smile back as she released Tony and made her way towards him, her leg slipping through the long slit in her dress as she walked giving him a flash of the peep-toe gold heels she was wearing, leaving him actively fighting the image of said heels being hooked around his ears…. Jesus Christ….

“Miss me Captain?” She grinned, her teeth bright white against the deep, blood red lip stain she was wearing.

“Always Doll.” He smiled as she stopped in front of him, blinking as she looked up at him.

“Good, because I missed you too.”

“You look amazing, honey.” Steve complimented her and she beamed up at him, scanning his suit.

“Thanks, you look pretty good yourself.” She said, her palms sliding up the lapels of his jacket.

Steve’s hand slipped round her back as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, not wanting to smudge her lipstick. When his palm met bare skin he couldn’t help the groan that left his mouth as he realised her dress was backless. Katie looked at him having heard his involuntary noise, arching a perfectly plucked brow and smirked.

“Yes, no bra Stevie.”

“You’re killing me sweetheart.” Steve whined out but before she could reply, Steve was rather harshly slapped on the back.

“Put her down, Punk you’re needed.” Bucky smirked as he turned to Katie, doing an over exaggerated double take as he looked her up and down “Huh, ok, so you look decent…” “Fuck you Barnes.” She shot back “And tell them they can wait a little, I haven’t seen my man since last night.” “Oh believe me I know. He’s been a whiney little bitch all morning…”

At that point a familiar voice cut him off. “James Buchanan Barnes, wash your mouth out, this is a wedding!”

Bucky grimaced as huge grins spread across both Katie and Steve’s faces. “Sorry Momma R” “Yes, I should think so.” Sarah looked at him sternly.

“Okay, I’m gonna…go…ummm…” Bucky hastily made his retreat, Sarah watching him with narrowed eyes before she turned to Katie, beaming as she gave her a hug.

“Star you look stunning.”

“Thanks Sarah and so do you, I love your dress.” Katie smiled, looking down at Sarah’s light gold knee length gown and Steve had to admit, it had been a while since he’d seen his ma done up. She was quite striking actually. “I love the neckline, and your hair.”

“Yes, thank you for that.” She gave Katie a look and she blushed a little, waving her away.

“Thank you for what?” Steve asked and Sarah looked at him, smiling.

“I had a little surprise this morning. Star arranged for someone to come and do my hair for me.”

Steve looked at Katie, a soft smile crossing his face. “You did?”

Katie shrugged “It’s no big deal.” “Well it was to me, so thank you.” Sarah smiled, before she turned to Steve. “My boy…don’t you look handsome?”

Steve blushed a little “Ma…” he sighed and Sarah chuckled

“Are you going to show me to my seat?” she asked and Steve smiled. He offered his mom his arm, shot Katie another smile and then walked into the room. As they reached the row she was to be seated on he stopped and reached up to brush his cheek. “You look just like your father.”

Steve didn’t miss the emotion in his mom’s eyes and he swallowed a little as she took her seat one down from the end of the row. “Have you…?”

“God, Ma. No, not yet. And I won’t be today either, its Tony’s wedding…”

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, most likely to pressure Steve to hurry up again but she was cut off by a voice from behind them.

“I believe my seat is just there…”

Steve frowned, he recognised that voice. He turned to see none other than Stan Lee smiling at him.

“Mr Lee?” he asked as the elderly man beamed at him “I didn’t know you were invited.” He extended his hand to shake Stan’s. “Good to see you again.”

“You too Captain. May I?”

Steve gave a nod and moved so Stan could drop into the seat on the end of the row, next to his mom.

“Good afternoon Ma’am, looks like I’m on the young’uns row.” Stan beamed at Sarah who burst out laughing. Steve shook his head with a snort and left them to it, making his way back out of the room to find the rest of his team had now arrived, Thor currently giving Katie a huge hug. He greeted Natasha who touched his arm gently before making a bee line for Bruce. He watched her go, smirking to himself, before he turned and raised an eyebrow at Clint. Clint merely shrugged and then introduced the Captain to his girlfriend, Laura. Thor then turned to him, shaking hands with Steve and moved slightly to reveal Gina was stood now talking to Katie.

“Greetings Captain, I bought a date.” Thor grinned.

“I see.” Steve said, raising his eyebrows, not bothering to correct Thor on what he had just said making it sound like he’d purchased Gina in some way...

“Yeah…” Gina turned to Steve. “The way he says it he sounds like he’s bought a bottle of wine.”

Thor shook his head “No, I don’t drink wine.”

At that Katie burst out laughing and turned away, shaking her head slightly.

“It’s a good thing he’s dreamy” Gina said, jerking her thumb at Thor.

Steve’s attention then was then distracted by a loud voice “Miss Stark, you look stunning…” He turned to see flash fucking fire dude, Johnny Storm approaching her and he gave a little groan, rolling his eyes.

“Captain…” Thor asked and Steve turned back to him “Where do we err sit?” Steve floundered for a moment, he really didn’t want to leave the fire bastard alone with his girl so he turned to Bucky who was watching him, a huge grin on his face.

“Buck can you…”

Bucky raised both palms, shaking his head, smirking smugly “Hey, I’m not part of the groomsman party…”

“Fuck you jerk.” Steve shot back and Bucky raised his eyebrows.

“Ok, first off, watch your language. This is a chapel, a place of worship and two…” at this point he dropped his voice and gave Steve a stern look. “Stop with the jealousy, she’s with you. No competition.”

“What is he even doing here?” Steve frowned, completely ignoring what Bucky had said, and the sergeant took a deep sigh. He was just about to inform Steve that he had no idea when a voice sounded from behind them.

“Johnny, there you are!”

Bucky and Steve turned to see a tall, dark haired man and a blonde woman approaching them. The blonde rolled her eyes “Of course he would be here, Hi Katie.”

Katie smiled “Hi Susan.”

“Well this is cute and all but…” Gina spoke again, “like seriously, Captain. Where do we sit?”

Steve groaned and took another glance at Johnny who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning as Katie chatted to the 3 people in front of her. Knowing he couldn’t not show the team to their seats, he rolled his eyes and moved gently to loop his arm round Katie’s waist, dropping a kiss to her cheek. A flicker of a smile crossed her pretty face and she turned to look at him, leaving him with absolutely no question she knew he was ‘marking his territory’ so to speak, before he grudgingly turned away to show the team to their seats.

“Smooth.” Bucky observed.

“Shut up.” Steve snapped back as he led his team down to a row half way down the room. This time, when he once more emerged from the room he was greeted by a whirl of gold and blue and he let out a low groan. Grandmaster.

Tony’s eccentric wedding planner started to clap his hands at Steve “The bride is here…get everyone seated, we’re behind schedule…”

Tony, who had been stood talking to someone grumbled to Steve “I wish he was behind schedule, preferably by a week so he wasn’t here.”

Steve gave a snort as Grandmaster turned to Katie and Pepper’s sister “Miss Stark, Miss Potts, the Bride may need your help…” At that he then looked at Steve, didn’t I tell you she looked stunning?” “You said gorgeous.” Bucky replied lazily.

“No.” Grandmaster frowned “Why would I use that word?”

Before Bucky could reply to the very strangely dressed man in front of him, Rhodey then appeared, smiling. “All set.” He smiled, clapping Tony on the shoulder “You ready?” Tony shook his head “Nope.”

Katie smiled, “You’ll be fine.” Steve watched as she stepped forward to give her brother a hug before she pulled back, her hands on his arms. “Mom and Dad would be so proud.”

Tony swallowed before he nodded “Ok, kiddo…don’t make me cry. Go help Pepper, tell her she’s already late.”

Katie rolled her eyes as Tony and Rhodey headed into the room, being ushered along by Grandmaster. She glanced at Steve and smiled. “See you in a minute.”

Steve smiled back, reaching out to pull her to him, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Don’t make it too long Doll.” She grinned and turned, giving him a full on view of the back of her dress, leaving his mouth a little dry and he made his way to his place on the front row, slightly down from where Tony and Rhodey were stood at the front of the aisle. On the way he shot his mom a smile as she beamed proudly at him, Bucky nodding as he sat next to her on the opposite side to Stan Lee. For some reason Steve was nervous. Why, he had no idea. He’d already seen his girl and she’d taken his breath away once already, but here he was, a ball of tense energy. He could hear Tony and Rhodey talking, but he wasn’t focussing, that was until Tony’s voice grew loud and indignant

“That man is playing Galaga” Tony pointed to a man on the second row who was engrossed in his phone. “He thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did.”

“Man, shut up and relax…” Rhodey soothed him.

“I need a drink, something strong…is it bad I can’t feel my left arm.” Tony looked at Rhodey who was about to respond when the music started and everyone stood up. Steve turned his attention to the door which opened inwards and Katie and Pepper’s sister stepped into the room, walking down the aisle.

Bucky watched Steve as he took a deep breath, his eyes on his girl as she glided towards them, a stupid, dopey, gooey-eyed smile crossing the Captains face. “Gross” he mumbled, giving a soft yelp as Sarah slapped him round the back of the head. Fury, who was on the seat to Bucky’s left gave a little snigger. Bucky looked at him and frowned. “What are you doing here? That’s not even your seat, I’ve seen the seating plan.”

“I’m sure you have Barnes.” Fury replied lazily “But given that it’s a stupid ass plan designed by an even more stupid ass planner I’ve elected to ignore it.”

As Katie reached the front row, Bucky saw her shoot Steve a huge smile, which his punk best friend returned, and then there were gasps in the room. Bucky turned and saw Pepper in a gorgeous, yet so simple silk, straight A-line dress, which was embellished round the waist in red and gold embroidery. He glanced at Tony, and was amused to see that the normally composed scientist was literally floundering for air. Bucky then caught Sam’s eye who flashed him a wink which he returned, and Sarah nudged him.

“See, that’s what being in love does to you James.”

Bucky smiled at her as she squeezed his hand gently. Throughout the Ceremony Bucky saw Steve kept on looking at Katie who was on the same row but the opposite side of the aisle. She was watching Tony, her eyes glassy. At one point, Pepper’s sister took her hand and she turned to her, giving her a smile, before they both looked back, Katie turning to Steve. She shot him a huge grin which he returned, and Bucky smiled to himself. It might be gross, but it was cute. He liked seeing Steve happy.

When the ceremony was over, Tony was told he could kiss his bride.

“Well, I’m not one to back down from an honest challenge…” he muttered, stepping forward and sweeping her up in a huge kiss to loud cheers in the room. As music began to play again, the new Mr and Mrs Stark swept down the aisle followed by Rhodey and Pepper’s sister. Steve walked on behind smiling as he reached the end of his row.

“May I Miss Stark?” he offered Katie his arm and she grinned, linking hers into the crook of his elbow and he lay his hand over hers. As they walked towards the doors, he caught his mom’s eye as she dabbed her tears away with a tissue. She beamed at him, and he smiled back, before he turned to look at Katie, dropping a soft kiss to her temple.

**** The meals were eaten, the toasts were done, and tears were shed through the afternoon. But once the reception was done, the drinks kept on flowing right through to the evening party. Steve was relaxed, feeling the buzz from a fair amount of wine, beer and shorts which had been consumed through the day. There was a loud tapping noise on the speakers and Steve glanced up from where he was sat at a table near the dance floor, Katie perched on his lap, as Tony and Pepper were welcomed to the floor for their first dance. The opening bars to Etta James ‘At Last’ last rang out around the room and Katie gave a snort.

“You can say that again.” She chuckled and Steve grinned, his arm curling round her as she watched her brother, her eyes glassy with tears. “You know…” she leaned down to Steve, this should really be our song.”

“Doll, just don’t…”

She shrugged and he gave a little huff of a laugh as she turned back to watch Tony slowly revolving Pepper around the floor, the camera flashing from the photographer. After the first verse the MC invited people to join them, as tradition and Katie looked at Steve. He nodded and she stood up, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor.

Bucky watched them go, picking up his drink, smiling.

“Look, now there are two Stark ladies!” Thor grinned as the team watched Steve take Katie in a close hold, gracefully revolving them on the spot, the pair of them sharing a laugh at something.

“Not for much longer.” Bucky grinned.

“What do you mean?” Thor frowned,

Besides Bucky Clint gave a snort as the sergeant looked at Thor blinking “You know, I don’t get it. Like, you’re super clever sometimes and others…”

Thor shrugged and then Bucky turned his attention over the table to see Scott Lang, their assistant looking at Natasha.

“Are you gonna eat that peanut butter macaroon or…” Scott began, but Natasha wasn’t listening, she was too busy caressing Bruce’s palm as it lay on the table in front of her so Scott reached out and grabbed it, shoving it in his mouth. On the dancefloor, Steve effortlessly moved Katie around the floor to the song as it played. She tucked her head under his chin and he breathed her in, his hand splaying on her bare back, simply relishing the fact she was so close. He didn’t speak a word, simply allowed the music and being with her to sweep him away, and he was rather unceremoniously jolted back to reality when loud applause sounded as the song finished. The MC congratulated Tony and Pepper once more, Katie turned to give her brother a huge hug, before the man on the mic wished everyone a Merry Christmas and the sounds of Wham, ‘Last Christmas’ rang out, cheers hitting Steve’s ears as suddenly the dance floor filled up.

Almost immediately, Bucky was in front of him, throwing what looked like torn up place cards into the air, holding his arms out “Merry Christmas and Happy 2021!”

Sam, who was besides Bucky looked at him “Its 2020 next year, idiot.”

Steve dusted the paper off his shoulders, picking pieces out of Katie’s hair as she looked at Bucky, frowning. Bucky turned to Sam and shrugged “Yeah I know but I don’t like 2020. Sounds like a shit year to me…although…” he spun to Steve grinning and Steve took a deep breath and shot him a glare, which he totally ignored “It could be a good one eh Stevie?”

“What is he talking about?” Katie looked at Steve.

“God knows, he’s drunk.” Steve shrugged as Bucky made a clicking noise as he winked, pointing at both of them. Thankfully, Sam dragged him away, Katie and Steve both watched them go before Katie turned back around. Smiling, Steve took her back in a hold that was a little lighter this time as the music was more upbeat and they began to dance together once more.

“Hmmm. Last Christmas…” Katie pondered and Steve let out a groan.

“Can we…” he took a deep breath, dropping his head “Can we just not? Please Doll. I’m not very proud of myself when I think about it.” Katie chuckled and her hands came to rest on his shoulders as he moved them in a little livelier dance. “Ok, sorry. But, it worked out in the end.”

“It did. But I caused you a lot of pain along the way.” He sighed, “Too much.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t hang around and give you chance to explain or try and work it out.” Katie looked up at him. “I just ran away.

“I didn’t exactly try and stop you did I?” Steve looked at her.

“No, you didn’t Captain Righteous.” Katie conceded and Steve chuckled as she shook her head “God I was so mad at you.”

“I was mad at myself Sweetheart.” “But if I’m honest, I was more upset that we’d blown our chance.” Steve took a deep breath. “I really thought we had. Well, that I had…”

“Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you ever leave me again, please.” She said, almost whispered. Steve frowned and looked at her, her face was loaded with emotion and beneath those sparkling green emerald eyes he could see a flicker of fear.

“Hey…” he reached for her hand and raised it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her wrist “Where’s this coming from baby girl?”

Katie sniffed, “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s just, everything is so perfect. It sometimes feels a little too good to be true. And I’m scared that one day I’m gonna wake up and I’ll still be in DC…or that you might have another car crash…or a case getting nasty and you…”

She was losing herself in her head again, something he’d seen her do countless times so he quickly cut her off. “Look at me.” He cupped her face in both his hands “I’m not going anywhere Doll.”

“Promise?”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but he knew full well that words wouldn’t do this moment justice. Instead he dipped his face to hers, catching her mouth in a deep kiss, not caring who the fuck was watching. He poured every single piece of emotion he was feeling into that kiss, desperate for her to understand that he had no intention of leaving her ever again and she must have gotten the message as he felt her relax into his hold, kissing him back, her hands softly gripping at the material of his jacket.

“Erm, stop eating his face Kiddo, this is my wedding.” Tony interrupted “It’s supposed to be about me….and Pepper” he added.

Steve could feel his cheeks growing warm as Katie pulled away from him with a groan and a roll of her eyes as she turned to face Tony.

“How about you go eat your wife’s face and leave us the fuck alone Tones?”

“Rude much?” He snorted “I raised you better than that.”

“You didn’t raise me at all, Tony!” Katie scoffed.

“Ok, it was a figure of…” he trailed off, frowning at something over her shoulder. “What the hell is Thor doing?”

Steve and Katie turned to see Thor was stood his nose almost touching one of the branches of the lit up Christmas Trees round the edge of the room.

“Oh, he was rambling on over dinner about Norwegian Spruce trees.” Katie shrugged, “Maybe he’s trying to figure out if that is one or not.”

“He was rambling about what?” Tony looked at her.

“It’s a type of tree which…” Steve began but Tony cut him off.

“You know what, on second thoughts I’m not really interested.” Steve sighed and looked at Katie who rolled her eyes as Tony continued “By the way, how do you like the décor?”

Steve watched Katie look around and knew what she’s was going to say, because she loved this time of year, turning into one huge, great child over the entire period of December. And true to form, when she opened her mouth to reply, she was grinning ear to ear.

“I gotta say, he might be a pain in the ass but Grandmaster got this right. I love it.” She smiled.

“Yeah, me too.” Tony agreed. “It’s like Christmas but with more me.” Steve let out a snort and Tony clapped his shoulder “Remind me to give you his card.” And with that he left, Steve shooting daggers at him. Thankfully, Katie was too engrossed in what Thor was doing to hear Tony offering Steve the services of a wedding planner. He saw her frown and his attention then flicked to the tall blonde, frowning.

“What is he offering my Ma?”

“Condoms.” A voice shot back, and Steve wheeled round to glare at Bucky who had appeared out of nowhere.

“For fucks sake Buck!” he growled as Katie spluttered out a laugh.

“Just kidding.” Bucky grinned, “They’re sweets. He handed them out before, you two were too busy dancing.”

“Sweets?” Katie arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he said he got em off a suspect…no, not a suspect, a suspects brief, yeah…”

“Bucky, are you ok?” Katie asked him and Steve looked at her, then to Bucky who did look a little, what was the word, spaced?

“Yeah, I feel…great!” He replied with a giggle.

Katie looked at him again before she let out a small “oh.” And groaned a little “Oh God.”

“What is it?” Steve asked, but she ignored him and continued talking to Bucky.

“How many of those sweets Thor has did you eat?”

“3 maybe 4…I dunno…” Bucky giggled, “I want more though.”

At that point, the man in questioned arrived. “Greetings!” Thor beamed at Katie and Steve, holding out a little foil packet “Sweet?”

“Thor, the guy who gave you those, was he wearing suspenders?” Katie asked and Steve frowned.

“Yes, I believe he was, along with a very bright lime green shirt. Nice chap.” Thor mused “He used many Post Its”

At that Steve looked at Katie, giving a little groan as he suddenly understood “Weiss?”

Katie nodded “They were a favourite little party treat of his.”

Steve snatched the bag from Thor and sniffed inside, pulling back immediately, the smell of cannabis sticking in his nostrils. “Jesus how can you not smell that?”

“Wait…” Bucky said, taking a sniff and looking at Steve “These have weed in them? The things I ate?”

Katie took a sniff and wrinkled her nose “Yup, and they’re stronger than I remember.”

“Than you remember? You used to do this?” Steve looked at her and she shrugged.

“Hey, I was younger and dumber…”

“Wait, so I’m high right now?” Bucky pressed and Katie grinned.

“Yep, they’ll wear off in a while. For the time being you’ll just feel very drunk and kinda floppy.”

“Floppy?” Steve frowned and Katie nodded.

“Yeah, like nothing matters, everything is cool. They used to make me a little frisky actually, we once took them before we…” she paled and Steve looked at her, swallowing before he turned to Thor.

“Thor, you didn’t give one of these to my ma did you?” Steve asked.

“Of course, not, no.” Thor shook his head.

“Oh thank fuck” Steve breathed out.

“I gave her two.” Thor concluded. At that Bucky’s giggles suddenly turned into loud laughter as he bent over, clutching at Thor’s arm.

“For fucks sake Thor, you drugged my mom!” Steve exploded as Bucky’s laughter grew louder.

“Sarah’s gonna be hiiiiigh.”

“Where is she?” Steve demanded, ignoring Bucky.

They scanned the room, searching for her only to see her at the other side of the dancefloor with flash fire dude, who was twirling her round to the music.

“Flame on!” She whooped, her hands up in the air as Johnny grinned.

“It’s catchy right?”

With a groan Steve strode over towards them. “Ma? What are you doing? You Ok?”

Sarah grinned at him, her eyes slightly glazed “Hey Son I’m good…just dancing with this young man.” She said, looking at Johnny then back to Steve “He says he’s called the human torch but us girls can call him torch”

Steve glared at Storm as Katie reached his side “The human torch?” he deadpanned “Seriously?”

“Hey,I didn’t coin it, it was the press that did that when we put out that warehouse fire. So called because my uniform caught fire on the way out…thanks to my sister though, I escaped with nothing more than a slight smoulder.” Steve felt Katie shaking besides him and could tell she was holding back laughter. Storm flashed her a wink and Steve grit his teeth before he felt his mom slap his shoulder.

“Don’t you be giving him that look Steven Grant! This brave man is a firefighter…” at that she turned back to Johnny, sniggering. “Now, where is your hose young man?”

“Jesus Christ…” Steve groaned, looking away in disgust.

Johnny opened his mouth to speak but Katie cut him off “Err no. Don’t.”

He shrugged and then looked at Sarah who was laughing so hard she was almost bent double.

“Ok, that’s enough Ma.” Steve decided to do what he did best, take control of the situation. “ I think you need to sit down.”

“Awww, don’t be such a buzz kill Steven.”

“It ain’t the buzz I want to kill…” Steve said, his eyes locking onto Johnny’s as he gave him another filthy glare.

After a little more cajoling they manage to get Sarah to agree to sit down. Steve helped her to her seat whilst she was rambling on about not wanting to be sat with Mr Lee again because he spent all dinner complaining about the booze not being strong enough. As they reached her table Sarah suddenly stopped.

“Actually…I think I need…yeah I need to go to my room.” She looked at Steve and Katie gave a snort.

“Hey, Steve, your ma’s crashing.”

Steve shot her a look. “This is not funny.”

Before she could respond Sam appeared and looked between the two of them, then to Sarah as he raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on his handsome face.

“Everything OK?” he asked.

“Yeah, she had one of Thor’s magic sweets.” Katie grinned “You wanna watch Buck, he’s had 4.”

Sam snorted, “Yeah I noticed.”

“I’m hungry.” Sarah suddenly said and Steve let out a sigh.

“Sam, can you help me get her to her room. Doll, you keep an eye on Bucky.” “I want a cheeseburger.” Sarah pointed at Steve and he looked at her.

“Ma, you’ve never eaten a cheeseburger in your life.”

“Shows much you know. A McDonalds on a Friday is my secret treat…although now I told you it’s not a secret.” She raised her finger to her lips “Sshhhh you can’t tell anyone.”

Steve rolled his eyes and started leading his ma to the door, Sam following.

“Bye Sarah!” Johnny called. “Pleasure meeting you!”

“Bye hottie!” she giggled, waving her hand at him as Sam laughed. She turned to Steve, spluttering out a laugh. ”Ha, hottie, see what I did there?”

“Yes.” Steve shook his head as he led her from the room. “Very good, Ma.”

Between Steve and Sam it was fairly easy to get Sarah to her room. Once he’d made sure she was ok and had some water he closed the door and they made their way back to the main room, Steve throwing the sweets in the trash as they passed a can on the way.

“Fucking Weiss.” He grumbled to himself as Sam gave a little chuckle.

When they arrived back in the room, it was clear a fair few of his team had managed to have one of those damned sweets before he’d confiscated them. Gina, Nat and Clint were dancing, all 3 of them with odd looks and dopey grins on their faces. Katie was on the floor with Pepper and Bucky, Bucky swaying on the spot. As Steve watched Sam headed over and winked at Katie, steering Bucky away. Steve felt someone besides him and he turned to see Bruce.

“How’s the team look to you Bruce?” he asked, a smile on his face as Bruce snorted.

“Right now we’re not a team, we’re a time bomb.”

Steve had to concede he was right, as at that moment Clint started miming as if he was shooting a bow, whereas Nat looked like she was throwing knives. Gina on the other hand was stood doing the robot.

“I need a drink.” Steve concluded.

“Good idea.” Bruce agreed.

They head to the bar where Tony was leaning against it, his tie long discarded, lecturing Peter Parker. Steve, taking lead from Tony, loosened his tie and popped the top button on his shirt before he ordered himself and Bruce a bourbon each, offering one to Tony who nodded, and then Peter who asked politely for a beer instead. The 4 men engaged in conversation, and a fair few drinks as Steve was happy to remain where he was, out of the way, every so often glancing around. It was about an hour later when he saw Clint and Natasha slowly walking towards a table, dropping down into a seat, Gina following. Bucky walked over to the bar with Sam shaking his head.

“Feeling ok Pal?” Steve grinned and Bucky blinked, rubbing his eyes.

“What the fuck just happened? It was like someone took over my brain…” he looked at them.

“I think the magic wore off.” Bruce mumbled as Steve gave a snort. “

“God, I really need food.” Buck looked around.

Steve laughed and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, ordering another round of drinks.

CONTINUED IN PART 2....

#csi rogers and barnes #steve rogers #csi au #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #bucky barnes

31 notes · View notes

marvelhero-fics · 5 years

Text

Silent Britain

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: This is technically chapter one! Thanks for all the support on the prologue I'm glad heaps of you enjoyed it! I also wasn’t really planning on doing a taglist for this fic but a lot of people requested to be on it so I ended up making one (it’s below the cut at the bottom). If you’d like to be on it just send me a message or leave a comment on pretty much any Silent Britain post. Thanks for the support again!!!!!!

This chapters a bit of a slow-burn but next chapter get much more interesting. Please go read the prologue first, this chapter will make much more sense if you do. It’s linked down below in the masterlist.

The italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 3,800

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist

And there goes the explosion. “I need to pull over. I’m about to have a stroke.”

The next two weeks truly flew by. You were partly happy, because you couldn’t wait to fly out to California and meet everyone, but it did also heighten your nerves. You did as much research as you could about Britain in the 70’s, even taking time to go see your grandparents who were conveniently alive at the time. But, by their description of the decade you could tell they must’ve been on some crazy drug back then, I guess that’s a pretty big tell of what the 70’s were like anyway.

“I promise you’re gonna do such an amazing job, I’m always just a phone call or text away if you need me, (Y/N/N).” Evie sung, pulling you into the tightest embrace.

“I know, Eve. I’m gonna miss you so much.” You pouted. To make life a little easier for yourself, you’d decided to fly out to California and stay there until production started, which was set to be in about a month. That way you didn’t have to fly there, then home, then there again, considering it was a twelve hour flight, and God, you hated flying.

“You are going to be incredible, my darling girl.” Your mum stated, giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see you for a while so she’d come over to send you off.

“Thanks mum. I love you heaps and I’ll call you when I get there.” You were incredibly close with your mum. She had always been such a huge support system for you and your career, you always credited any success you had to her.

And with that, you were in the car being driven to the airport.

The twelve hour flight had taken your physical and mental battery down to about 0. Even up in First Class all you did was read your script over and over, and panic. As well as getting some time to watch The Departed, one of Scorsese’s incredibly well done films. Unfortunately, instead of enjoying it, you essentially studied it. Fortunately, you got to use your ‘Taxi Driver’ notebook. Is this slightly obsessive? You studied how DiCaprio and Nicholson delivered their lines, and how often the sets changed, and all the camera angles. God, you’re purposely trying to freak yourself out now.

Touching down in California was nice. The first thing you really noticed was the heat. It was July, so it was the middle of summer, and in California it got hot. Of course, you weren’t complaining, this meant nice air conditioning on set, as well as good weather to work with in production. Yea, that would be the only thing I think about.

An older looking gentleman stood at the arrival gate with a sign that read (Y/L/N) in bulk letters. You quickly went over to greet him. Lazily, you strolled out to the large SUV, trying to get as much time on your feet as possible after the long flight. You’d seen photos, and heard horror stories of actors being mobbed at airports, with fans even waiting at the arrival gates all day to catch a glimpse of their favourite celebrity. That never happened to you, but you tried to be much more thankful than jealous. Large crowds weren’t really your forte.

“How was your flight, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Your driver politely asked, turning on the engine of the car.

“It wasn’t too bad. It just felt super long,” you chuckled, sluggishly.

“Well, at least you’re back on solid ground now.” He smiled through the rear-vision mirror.

“Yea, very happy to be. Out of curiosity, are you picking up any other members of the cast?” You peered up, knowing this man likely worked for the studio.

“Indeed, I am. I picked up Jude Law yesterday morning, and Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz last night.” He responded,

“Huh, and what’re they like?”

“Well, Mr Law was very friendly, we ended up chatting most of the way to the hotel. And Mr Craig and Mrs Weisz seemed lovely, but I didn’t talk with them very much. They were a little more closed off.” He continued, you simply nodding to his words, “And I believe I’m picking up a Mr Holland much later tonight.”

“Oh, right. Busy day for you then.”

“Well, it’s just the usual.” And with that, you stopped talking. Your mind wandered off the small talk. God almighty, it’s gonna be a fucking long night tonight. You thought, simply just processing all the things you knew you had to organise before tomorrow. The ride to the hotel didn’t seem like a very long one, or maybe it was? Maybe you’d zoned out to an entire different reality and didn’t notice time passing, either way you made it to the Four Seasons and checked in with no trouble at all.

It was pretty much exactly what you’d expect from the Four Seasons. A small, spacious living area, with a large, grey L-shaped couch, and a big-screen TV. A small kitchen to the left, that you’re sure wouldn’t be able to make more than a bowl of pasta. A bedroom off in a separate room, with a bed that was far too big for one person. And an Asylum-white bathroom with a bathtub that was going to make your stay here much better. Looks like this is home for the next month. Being apart of the Hollywood scene, you got kind of used to hotel rooms becoming a second home. The amount of time you spent essentially having to tour around California for filming, staying in different hotels with similar-looking hotel rooms just became second nature.

First point of action; now that you’d touched down and gotten comfortable, was to call your mother. She’d slowly figured out how to worry less about you, now that you were older and had figured your life out a bit more, but she was still always going to be a mother.

The phone only rang twice before she picked up. “Hey, mum.” You greeted,

“Hi, love! I’m glad you’re safe and well, how was your flight?”

“Long. But the hotel’s really nice.” You responded, letting your body fall back onto the king-sized bed.

“Did you watch any movies?”

“Yea, I watched The Departed.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of a grim film, love.” Your mum stated, being as motherly as ever.

You chuckled a bit, “wait until you see the film I’m about to be in.”

“Did you get any sleep on the plane? And how was the food?”

“Yea, the food was really nice, it was like a salmon and couscous thing. And no, I didn’t really get any sleep, but I didn’t really try too, I kinda had a lot of other things to do.” You spoke.

“Well, you need to make sure you get some sleep tonight. And you let me know if you need anything at all!” Your mother conveyed

“Thanks, mum. And I promise everything is going fine, I’m fine. And I’ll let you know how the cast meet up and rehearsals go.” You returned. And with her best wishes, your mother hung up. That left you lying there, your body slightly sunken into the soft mattress of the Four Seasons bed. Almost every celebrity you’d met had told you to not search your own name on the internet. They always told you you’d find some very unfavourable things, but if you didn’t go looking for it you wouldn’t find it. So with that excellent mentality, you searched your name.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). It took only seconds to type and click enter. The first article talked about the upcoming film. I guess the news already broke. It was probably leaked purposely for publicity, you didn’t care either way.

Upcoming Scorsese Film to have Star-Filled Line Up, Signing Hopkins, Hardy, Bale, and (Y/L/N). Being called a star was quite nice. It always shocked you just a little bit, knowing that people knew your name. Knowing that you’d actually become news. This is what you’d wanted for a long time though, to be a movie-star. You read further into the article.

‘Scorsese’s latest film to centre around 1970’s British Mob family, the Bakers. No news on the initial release date, however official members of the cast include Tom Hardy, Anthony Hopkins, Christian Bale, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’ The article showed photos of the four of you, including a photo of Scorsese. At least they picked a nice picture.

‘If this mobster film is anything like we’ve seen in the past from Scorsese, we can expect a stunning and vivid look at the ugliness and volatile nature of true Gangster films. Potentially even a few Academy Awards if Scorsese continues his war-path of masterly crafted cinema.’ You even chuckled at that last line, the Academy Awards. You’d attended the Emmys last year and that was the highlight of your life. If you were at the Oscars you’d probably spontaneously combust. You flicked your phone off and threw it to the other side of the bed, lying patiently in the quickly setting Californian sun. Am I supposed to feel this overwhelmed? You simply sat with your thoughts for a few moments, knowing that nothing was going to be the same after this film. Martin Scorsese essentially started Robert De Niro’s career in Taxi Driver, same with Jodie Foster. Not to mention Al Pacino’s career starting in a 70’s gangster film too. Each of these actors now being multi-award winning, millionaires. I don’t think I could function being that famous.

Once you’d finished basking in the glory and horror of it all, you sorted out your clothes from all of your luggage, and headed to bed. It was probably still too early to be in bed, but you’d had no sleep on the flight and just wanted to rest, especially for the chaos of tomorrow.

That all-too-familiar noise of your phone alarm ripped you back into consciousness. Surprisingly, you’d slept like the dead last night. You thought the panic and nerves would’ve kept you up, or disrupted your sleep, but thankfully it was actually very peaceful. Wonder how long that’s gonna last. Everything you did during the morning was mechanical. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing your hair and make-up. It was all just simply going through the motions while your mind ticked away. You tried to remember every part of the script, while also going over today’s encounters. Am I supposed to act like a fan of these actors? Or do I act super cool? Like I don’t care?

Your gaze rested upon your figure in the mirror. Wearing a casual pair of jeans, a regular t-shirt, with your favourite Nikes. Along with bits and pieces of jewellery that fitted. Do I look too plain? Like one of the million assistants on set? Was everyone else going to be dressed up? What sort of cast meet up is this? It was 9:00 am, so regardless of your racing thoughts, you didn’t have any time to change. You grabbed your hand-bag, script, and note-book and went downstairs to get into the car the studio had sent, and with that you were on the long drive to set. Neither you or the driver talked to each other, you partly blamed yourself for not initiating conversation. Your mum would’ve been upset with you. ‘No matter how famous you get, my darling, you’re not allowed to look down on others. You can never think of yourself as better than others. You’ll always be a regular person, who makes mistakes, and does great things. Always, always be kind.’ She’d always lecture you. God, you’d kill to have your family here with you.

The SUV pulled up to the lot, getting access to the private area where the meet-up was happening. You made sure to thank the driver before you met up with a shorter, plumper lady, who obviously seemed like she was expecting you by her greeting.

“Welcome to the studio, (Y/N). My name’s Angela, I’m the production manager for Silent Britain.” She spoke, the Californian accent very prominent in her voice.

“Nice to meet you.” You responded,

“It’s nice to meet you too, if you could just follow me, I'll take you to the room where everyone’s meeting.” She said with a smile.

“Sounds good.” Angela walked you to the huge garage-type room. Well, it wasn’t actually a room, it was just an empty stage on the lot. The 12 ft tall garage-like door was open to let natural light illuminate it. It was full of people, most of whom you’d never seen in your life. Everyone from the special effects men, to the boom mic operators, to the assistant director were packed in. Luckily it was a huge area. Angela told you to follow her further, taking you to a separated room down the other end of the stage. This was the room full of actors. God, we’re pretentious. Needing a whole other room to ourselves. Not only did it have the main actors, it had quite a few background actors. Which, admittedly, you were slightly thankful for. If it was just the main actors you’d be the least famous person in the room, and that’s never the best feeling.

Angela let you know that the meeting would be happening very soon. By meeting, she essentially meant the presentation about the film, and how production was going to work and such. And with that flow of information, she left. Leaving you to fend for yourself in a room full of actors.

Who the fuck am I supposed to talk too? Why does everyone seem to know someone already? “Hiya!” A loud, high pitched noise rang behind you. You turned on your heel to see a slightly shorter girl with long, wavy brunette hair.

“Hi?” You returned, not sure if she was mistaking you for someone she knew.

“I’m Allison.” She introduced, extending her hand out.

“Oh, right. I’m (Y/N).” You smiled back, shaking her hand.

“Yea, I’ve actually seen you in quite a few films before. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Wow, I’m really not used to actually being recognised.” You somewhat laughed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders.

“You’re playing the lead role in this film though, aren’t you?” She queried.

“Yea, Elizabeth Baker. I’m still not entirely sure how I landed that. Do you mind if I ask who you’re playing?” You responded.

“Of course! I’m playing Donna, which is one of Lizzie’s school friends.” She explained. It was only a very minor role, with maybe one line of dialogue. But she seemed happy enough to be here.

“Oh, well, thanks for introducing yourself. Now I’ll finally know someone on set.” You joked.

“Do you not know the other actors already?”

“Honestly, no. I haven’t really had the chance to meet anyone yet.”

“You should go over and introduce yourself. You’re the lead role! And maybe you could introduce me to some of them.” She laughed, trying to slightly play off the words she just said. Ah, lovely. Someone trying to use me to their advantage.

“Hm.” You simply smiled. “I think I’ll just grab a coffee first, then maybe I’ll socialise.” You added, taking almost no time to venture away from her.

You moved towards the small tables set up with coffee, tea, water and small snacks. You couldn’t help but notice the divide in the room. There was the big-time actors to one side of the room, and the lesser-known, mainly extras to the other side. You also couldn’t help but notice that you stood on the extras side of the room. In the moment you didn’t particularly care. You spent time fiddling away with the sugar packets, not even making a coffee as you thought about your next move. You needed to go introduce yourself, to at least one person you were going to be acting beside. But who were you supposed to choose? I bet Daniel Craig wasn’t this nervous introducing himself. Fuck, I wouldn’t be if I was James Bond.

Without thinking past James Bond, you walked over to the ‘A-list’ actor area. Fuck it, I’m the greatest. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet me. You repeated, entirely trying to sike yourself up. Daniel Craig, Michael Fassbender, Christian Bale, and Rachel Weisz stood in a small group, chatting amongst themselves. Oh, this is definitely the most threatening group. You thought, diving straight in.

“Hi there,” You interrupted, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You spoke, confidently. Good thing I’m such a good actor.

“Nice to meet you,” Michael responded, his Irish accent thick as he spoke. Daniel, Rachel, and Christian all introduced themselves after, breaking into a conversation about Martin Scorsese.

“I actually haven’t had the chance to meet him. Not properly at least.” You stated, referring back to your audition were you simply spoke in front of him, without him engaging in much conversation.

“He’s great. He’s incredibly intelligent at what he does, but he is really fast paced. He seems to constantly be thinking about the next thing to do.” Daniel began speaking, “But try not to be nervous, he’s pretty good at sensing nerves.” He smirked. Awesome.

“As if the cast wasn’t intimidating enough.” You joked, earning a chuckle from the group. The five of you continued to discuss past acting experiences, and working together on other films and such, with yourself not having much to bring to the conversation. Simply being happy enough to stand with these four god-like actors.

Angela seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of the crowd of actors, earning a hush amongst the group. She began by thanking everyone for being here, and introducing herself once again as the production manager. She explained the outline of what was going to happen, and when production was due to start, most information of which you’d received in emails earlier. All and all, it was a very quick meeting. I guess it was more about getting to meet everyone. Angela finished her statement and the crowd sparked conversation again, most of the background actors dispersing off. As you were about to say your goodbyes, a smaller, younger gentleman walked up to where you and your newly formed actor friends stood. He handed each of you a small envelope.

“These are from Martin, inviting you to dinner with him tonight. All the information is on the letters. Please RSVP as soon as possible.” He stated, scuttling off to the next group.

“The theatrics,” Christain stated, waving the envelope, ��that’s very Scorsese.” He finished.

“Who was that kid?” You asked Michael,

“Would’ve been Martins PA, probably.” He replied, opening his letter. You shrugged and opened yours. The beautiful calligraphy hit you first, each letter individually addressed to each actor. By the looks of it, the main cast of about 12 of you were invited, along with the higher up crew members. It was being held at his property in Hollywood. Well, this should be fun.

“I guess we’ll see you all there.” Daniel stated, earning a cheer of goodbyes from the rest of you as him and Rachel walked off.

“I better head off too,” You smiled, leaving Michael and Christain behind you as you strolled towards the door, continuing to read over your letter. The handwritten note occupied so much of your thought, that you’d forgotten to look where you were walking. All of a sudden, you were stumbling straight into someone's torso. The first sense to hit you was the scent, the only way you could think to describe it was the smell of the wealthy. It was an incredible cologne that you could only imagine A-listers would wear.

“Sorry, love.” His voice sung, the thick British accent very apparent. His larger hands came up to grab your shoulders, steadying your body. His grip was firm against you arms. You could feel the heat of his hands through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t help but notice the veins slightly bulging from his tanned forearms. You face moved up so your gaze aligned with his. Brunette curls, light brown eyes, glowing smile, a jawline that looked like it was carved from stone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.” You awkwardly laughed as Toms taller frame stood right in front of you. Do not freak out.

“Don’t worry about it.” He responded, “I was meaning to come meet you earlier, but I got a little caught up. I’m Tom, by the way.” He added, his grin not leaving his face. Yea, I fucking know.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” You replied, politely.

“Yea, I’m actually a bit of a fan. I’ve seen some of your work in the past, I’m really glad you got this role.” He added.

“Oh, wow. I thought we we’re going to play it cool, but I’m a huge fan of yours too. I love all the Marvel stuff.” You broke out of your ‘big-time actor’ persona. He chuckled at your comment.

“I see you got an invite, too.” He pointed down at your letter, holding his in his hand too.

“Oh yea. Have you ever done this sort of thing before? Like this whole dinner with the cast thing?”

“Yea, a few times actually. Robert Downey Jr loved doing this stuff for the Marvel cast.” He returned, “with the directors, and the crew and everyone.”

“Right, well I’ve never done all this before. It’s pretty crazy.”

“Yea, I know. The cast of this movie is fucking insane. I’ve never seen so many stars in one room, honestly.” Tom acknowledged. “You seem like you’re holding it all together pretty well.”

“No, I’m just a really good actor, internally I’m absolutely freaking out.” You stated in a joking manner, earning a laugh from Tom. I mean, it’s true.

“That’s great practice for the film them.” He replied, his eyes looking deeper into yours. You could almost feel your knees turning to jelly.

“I’m so sorry to leave you stranded like this, but I really need to get back to my hotel and sort my shit out for this dinner tonight.” You spoke, truthfully.

“Oh, yea. I should probably go do the same. I guess I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, you will. It was really nice to meet you, Tom.” You expressed, your hand moving to rest against his bicep as you cocked your head with a smile. He returned the good-bye and you waltzed out of the stage. Your heart was pumping in your throat and you had to bite down on your lip to suppress your awfully huge grin. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

Taglist!

@averyfosterthoughts @loxbbg @musicandbokkslovingweirdo @yourwonderbelle @iamanerdnot @kayceeeveeee @autty0314 @poorlittlesuperstar @rebeccamckirgan99 @xherosxvillainsx @rachaeldonnaspiteri1 @hollands-osterfield @shambhavi-sethi @a-phan-of-youtube @theobssessiveweirdo

A line through your name means it wouldn't let me tag you!

380 notes · View notes

sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Thirteen - Love Me (If That’s What You Wanna Do)

Just like the mornings prior, the light streaming in through the large windows in Matty’s bright house woke her up. However, unlike the mornings prior, the tangle of arms and legs, the arm around her stomach, the soft snoring in her ear and the curly hair tickling her cheek were a welcome new addition. Her eyes took a brief moment to adjust to the room around her. It was nice not being jetlagged, or hungover, it meant that she had enough braincells functioning to accurately recall the events of last night. She shuffled slightly, moving to grab her phone from the bedside table to check the time, only to feel Matty’s arm tighten around her and pull her back into the middle of the bed.

“Stay in bed.” He mumbled; the tone of his voice thick with sleep.

“I thought you had stuff that you’re meant to do today?” She questioned, letting him keep her there anyway.

“Don’t care. Want to stay here with you.” He answered. She already felt that heart-warming feeling spreading through her chest after remembering how last night had gone, and he was very easily amplifying it tenfold with such a simple comment.

“When did you get so sappy?” She muttered as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the blush covering her cheeks.

“I will be as sappy as I damn well want.” He laughed as he squeezed his arms around her, trailing kisses from her cheek to her lips. Fucking hell. How did she ever think that she stood a chance to not fall prey to his charm?

Which pulled her mind back to how they’d left things last night. “So…” She cleared her throat anxiously. “Uh, when did you wanna talk?” It seemed best in her mind to just get it over with.

“Whenever you’re ready to.” He shrugged.

She paused for a few seconds. “Now?” She suggested.

He let out a deep sigh, ending it in a yawn as he rolled over, stretching his arms above his head. “Let’s head downstairs, then.” He nodded. “We can chat over breakfast.”

They made their way downstairs, Y/N/N taking a seat at the small outdoor table as she watched him potter about the kitchen. He hummed quietly to himself as he searched the cupboards for something basic for the two of them to eat. The contented atmosphere around him was plain to see. It was nice seeing him at ease when he was frequently so tightly wound or on edge about something.

He sat down at the table, setting a mug down in front of her as he cradled his own tea in his hands. As he stared down into his cup, he tried to carefully picked his words. Where to begin? “I guess I should start with: I’m sorry about the bet. It er, got a bit out of hand, I suppose.”

“No kidding?” She replied sarcastically as she took a sip of her drink. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that before pulling himself back on track.

“It started as just messin’ about. I liked your company and you gave me a run for my money. I didn’t know what I wanted out of what we had because I wasn’t sure how I felt. I thought…” He swallowed hard, hating that he had to admit the next part. “I thought that I just liked having you around because you helped me deal with my thoughts when they were… getting difficult. I told you that things run smoother for me with company, but I truly struggle without my friends. I wouldn’t have been able to get clean - stay clean, if it weren’t for them. I rely on them massively. When you came along, it was easy for me to shift some of that emotional reliance onto you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She frowned. Had she known that was the case, she would’ve been able to offer some assistance through his rough patches rather than watching him suffer in silence.

“Because I thought if I told you that I felt dependent on you to stay in a good headspace, you wouldn’t wanna be around me anymore. It’s hardly charming to hear that I don’t function properly alone.” He answered truthfully. “In my best efforts to avoid confronting that, I did everything I could to keep you around without being open about why. And the bet seemed like a good way to do that. If I kept dragging it out, it gave me an excuse to stay in your life.” He elaborated.

“Matty, you didn’t need an excuse-”

“Yeah, I know that now, Y/N/N.” He grinned. “But hindsight is twenty-twenty. As it so turned out, anyway, that wasn’t why I was so hell bent on keeping you around.” He pointed out as he took a swig of his tea.

“So…” He stared down at the hole in his jeans, picking at it absent-mindedly. “I ignored my motivations behind what we had for a long time, and gradually they changed without me noticing. It wasn’t until George talked some sense into me after tour ended that I realised why I’d been doin’ it.” She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Because I was into you, too.” He clarified with a roll of his eyes.

“You see? See how it fucking feels to have someone make you say it?” She laughed as she shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I said I was sorry, all right?” He chuckled. “I only realised it while you were away working at that show.”

“Is that what that voicemail was about?” She asked in surprise as the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“Uh, kinda. More so what the call the next day was about. And why I asked you to come out here. Once I was aware of it, I finally had to do what you’d been bugging me about since we’ve met and actually work out what I wanted.” He said with a short laugh. “I wanted to tell you, I knew that much. But the rest I needed a bit of help with.”

“And that brings us to the difficult bit that you didn’t want to confront: what happens after all this is said and done.” He added as he stood up and walked over to his coffee table. He opened the drawer on the side of it, pulling out a stack of papers. Glancing at the cover quickly to double check that he’d definitely grabbed the right thing, he made his way back to the outdoor table. “Because I know that us being into each other doesn’t mean much if I end up on tour for the majority of the year.” He flipped through the pages anxiously, choosing his words wisely before he spoke. “I want you to come and be the director of our merch.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. What? “It’s, erm, it’s a real job. Not something daft I made up like the Rome merch gig. You’d be in charge of our whole merchandising operation: organising stock levels, contracting out the merch jobs to the venues as we tour, making sure that they set it up correctly and that sales are lining up. Sam and I would still be designing our stuff, but you’d do pretty much all the rest. I know you don’t like sitting around doin’ nothing, so it’s proper work. You’d pretty much have to live on the road with us, have downtime when we record or have downtime ourselves. But, um, you don’t have to decide now.” He handed her the thick wad of paper. “This is the contract. Read it over, make sure you know what the job is. And don’t say yes because of me. The offer isn’t anything to do with me, it’s The 1975 exclusive. It was George’s idea actually, it didn’t even come from me.” He laughed lightly, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. Ah, that explained their secret conversation yesterday. “But I don’t want you to say yes because you think I want you to. Which is not to say that I don’t want you to, it’s just…” He let out a deep sigh as he tried to get his thoughts back on track. “Whether you say yes to the job or not, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change any of my opinions. And if you say yes, anything that happens between us, good or bad or nothing, it doesn’t affect the job, yeah?” He had too many things on the list in his head to try and convey that he was starting to worry that his point wasn’t coming across coherently.

She stared down at the papers in her hands as she mulled over the offer. “This is incredibly generous, but I don’t want to be taking someone else’s job away from them.” She said as she went to pass them back. He just pushed it back into her grip.

“You’re not.” He assured. “Previously this is something that Jamie or I did. It’s about time we delegated, so if you don’t take the job it will be offered to someone else.” As he spoke, the sound of his ringtone started filling the air around them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. Realistically, he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Ah, shit… That’s Hann.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. There was still so much more that he wanted to say.

“Are you running late?” She asked.

He nodded. “I gotta go meet the guys at the studio. I’ll be back in a bit. Read the contract, see what you think. Jamie said you can have a week to think about it before he looks for another person to fill the position.” He explained as he made his way inside, throwing a jacket over his shoulders. “There’s a spare key on top of the fridge if you need to duck out.” He shouted as he headed towards the front door. A quick goodbye was thrown over his shoulder, before the heavy door was pulled shut, and she was left by herself to digest all of this information.

She migrated back inside to sit on the couch as she flipped through the contract. He was right about it being a proper job offer. Everything was listed in these sheets of paper, from the amount of hours she should be expecting to work down to how she would have to filter any posts online about the band. The pay was… more than adequate. There were even clauses in there about the contract not locking her into any long-term agreements, she was free to leave when she wanted. It was a tempting proposition. She loved doing merch work, and she’d been doing it on and off for over a decade now. It made sense to take a leap into something more permanent than just taking jobs as they were offered to her during peak touring season. Controlling a whole merch operation for an entire band would be an interesting challenge to tackle, a rewarding one she suspected. But this was much bigger than just a job. It would mean uprooting her life at home, committing to a life on the road. And as much as he said that it didn’t, it did mean committing to Matty to a degree. Whether that was in the sense of a relationship or not, it meant that he was going to become a permanent fixture in her life. Was she certain she wanted that? She’d had less than twenty-four hours to come to terms with the fact that her feelings were actually reciprocated. And did he actually want that? It was a while of her looking at the pages before Allen came to find her; the big dog padding into the living room and watching her with curiosity. She read and re-read certain clauses as he jumped up on the couch and rested his head in her lap, trying to find something that would either seal the deal or break it. But in the end, it was her decision to make. She had to weigh up the pros and cons and decide what was going to give the best outcome.

* * *

Matty made it to the studio a bit breathless, having half jogged there in an effort to not be too late. They were meeting with someone to sort out the pressing of the album on vinyl, and the meeting had started fifteen minutes ago. He exchanged a few quick greetings with the people mingling around the front of the building before making his way down to the back room where he knew the rest of his band would be waiting for him.

“So sorry!” He blurted out as he stepped into the room. “Time got away from me this morning.”

“Not like you to be late.” George stated, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Matty could hear the teasing tone underlying his voice.

“Yes, well…” He tried to think of a witty comeback as he shrugged his jacket off. But he found himself coming up empty.

“Are they the same clothes that you were wearing yesterday?” Ross questioned, eager to jump onto this bandwagon.

“Did you sleep in those?” Adam chimed in.

Matty sat there in silence, running a few responses through his head. None of them were going to get him out of this. “So, we need to get Notes out as soon as possible,” He started, opting to change the topic instead. George sniggered a laugh under his breath.

The meeting went well. They organised that the vinyl could be out in a few months once they were ready to go ahead with the final master of the album. A few last administration bits and pieces were confirmed. They lined up their next few social media posts and when they would be posted. Things were really starting to come together. Once it was just the band left in the room, Matty finally felt the stress release from his shoulders. He knew he was about to receive a hard time from his mates, but at least now he wasn’t gonna have to let strangers in on his personal life.

“Why were you actually running late?” George asked eventually. “Did you finally talk to her?”

The smile he was trying to conceal gave him away before he could even start talking, earning a chorus of approving noises from his friends. He waited until they’d calmed down for a second before he spoke. “Yeah, we’re on the same page now.” Matty nodded. “And I was going over the contract when you rang.” He added, gesturing towards Adam.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, man.” He apologised.

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “I left it with her so she had a chance to read it.”

“And?” George urged.

“And what?” The lead singer frowned in confusion.

“Are you guys together now or what?” He clarified.

“Oh, erm, well…” Matty started hesitantly. He hadn’t had the chance to get to that bit this morning.

George let out a loud groan in annoyance. “You still didn’t ask?”

“I didn’t want her to feel weird about it! Throwing the job offer and that at her in one morning seemed like too much. I just told her that it didn’t matter if we were or weren’t, the position was separate to all that.” He explained. Adam nodded in agreement. “I was gonna get to that part once she knew if she wanted to join the team or not.”

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer then.” Ross said with a nod towards the door. “Go see what she has to say.”

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard the front door lock click open. Allen instantly jumped off the couch next to her to bound towards the sound of the noise, and she heard Matty greeting his dog eagerly before seeing him step into the living area.

“Sorry, I tried to get out as quickly as I could.” He said, kicking his shoes off.

“How was the meeting?” She asked as he flopped down onto the couch next to her.

“Good, yeah.” He said with a nod. “We sorted out a few last things with Notes so it should be right to go soon.” He eyed the papers sitting on the table. “So, uh… how did you get on with the contract?” He asked, clearly anxious about her answer.

“It’s very… thorough.” She chuckled.

“George wrote it up with Jamie to make sure that all the legalities were covered and you had an out if ever you wanted one. We of all people know how rough this sort of lifestyle can be.” He should probably stop talking about the downsides of the job if he ever hoped for her to want to accept it.

“I went over it a couple of times, the job itself seems great. The only things that worried me were having to relocate my existing life at home to commit to living on the road with you lot. I don’t know if I could cram my life into a suitcase. And I’ve never handled something as major as this. There’s a lot to learn, with pretty high stakes involved and I’m sure I’ll be being thrown straight into the deep end.” She sighed, feeling the sense of dread at fucking it all up sitting at the back of her mind.

“However, despite of all of that, I’d like to take the job.” She grinned. He couldn’t help but match her smile as a wave of relief washed over him. When she’d started talking about the negatives, he was sure that it was going to lead to her turning the offer down.

“Welcome to the team.” He said, holding his hand out to her for a handshake. She laughed lightly before shaking it. “We’ll have to head down tomorrow to get all this finalised and tell the guys.” The excitement shone in his eyes.

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

“That just leaves one last question, then.” He continued, wanting to keep the ball rolling.

“Hm?”

“What did you want to do about us?” He asked as he tried to maintain his usual confident bravado, at least until this conversation was over.

“Ah, yeah… about that…” She sighed. His hours out of the house had also given her a lot of time to consider what she wanted out of all this - out of him. “Matty, you are quite possibly the most egotistical and arrogant person that I’ve ever met. You are relentless when you’re right, and just as difficult when you’re wrong.” These were things that he was already well aware of, but he couldn’t help the pang of hurt in his chest at having to hear them again. “And yet, for whatever reason, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we met.” She huffed. What? “Which might be because despite the incredibly annoying traits that you possess, you also possess many redeeming ones. You’re passionate and kind and endlessly talented.” He could feel his cheeks warming slightly at her words. “You go to the ends of the earth for the people that you care for. You’re smart and funny and fuck. I don’t think I could continue ignoring my feelings for you, even if I did want to.” She admitted as she ran a hand down her face in frustration. “Even at my most blindly stubborn, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I committed to being around you more than I already am. Especially after everything that’s happened since I got here.”

He considered what she was saying carefully. “What did you want our next step to be, love?” He asked, wanting to leave the ball in her court and not push her into anything.

“I’d be keen to give a serious relationship a try if you were.” She answered bluntly. He let out a triumphant laugh. “Don’t get too cocky now that you managed to win me over.” She cautioned him, but her smile betrayed the warning in her words.

“Too late. That ship has long since sailed.” He said as he pulled her into a tight hug.

She hugged him back just as tight, glad to finally have it all out in the open. It was probably going to be a bumpy road ahead, with a million setbacks and challenges. But she was pretty excited to be facing those things with Matty by her side.

“To think, you got yourself into all this mess with a troubled musician just because you didn’t know how to reprint a t-shirt.” He scoffed as he pulled back. She could hear the joking tone in his voice, but the incessant need to correct him still bubbled to the surface.

“That is not at all what happened.” She argued.

“I’m fairly sure it is.” He nodded. “Pretty sure that I walked in there, you needed me for help with the shirts and then you begged me to hang out with you more.” He lied.

“I’m certain that you are the one who bothered me to hang out with you more.” She shot back. The smirk on his face made it pretty clear that she’d just taken the bait. Again. “Stop being such a twat.” She laughed.

“You make it way too easy.” He replied with a chuckle before leaning down to kiss her.

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #Sunsetinmyvein

30 notes · View notes

soontofustew · 5 years

Text

about now

summary: your touring husband is finally home.

pairing: park jaehyung x reader

word count: 2.5k ish

a/n: hey hey @nara1509!! this is written for you for the myday christmas fic exchange ~ (organised by the lovely @7abshy) you didn't really specify anything except husband jae so i took the creative liberties!! truthfully, this was really difficult to write (figuring out marriage dynamics and thinking about life after marriage) but i tried my best!! my writing here is lowkey weird too?? feels kinda different from my normal style but sorry for the long wait >< anyway i really hope you enjoy this and have a great 2020!!

“ y/n, aren’t you heading home yet?”

the sound of your typing slows to a halt as you finally look up from your computer screen after staring at it the whole day, blinking furiously in an attempt to drive the tiredness away. sohye’s head pops out from behind the door of your office, concern briefly flickering across her face as she takes in the mess of your usually organised surroundings. papers were scattered across your table, you knew there were at least three different files lying open on the couch and a multitude of post it notes were pasted across the department whiteboard that you had (with much effort) managed to roll into the room.

you attempt a reassuring smile at your closest friend and colleague in the department, although at this point you’re sure it looks more like a grimace.

“well, i’m hoping to be done with this by 7?” you catch the clock ticking to 6.45 out of the corner of your eye and inwardly sigh, “scratch that. maybe 8?”

sohye frowns for a moment, before stepping into your office. “i could come in early tomorrow to finish up the rest of the pitch and presentation? especially since you’re supposed to be on leave. minjung said she would be in early as well!”

“i’ll finish up what i can and email the rest to the department to finish. don’t worry so much and go home, shoo shoo.” you wave a hand at her and she nods somewhat reluctantly, turning around to leave.

“you better make sure you leave at 8.” she calls out as she turns to exit your office, not before fixing you with a stern glare that you know from past experience meant that she wasn’t playing around.

“yes mom.” you drone, waving your hands quickly at her in a shooing motion. “please leave safely.”

“i swear i’ll swap all the pen caps on your coloured pens-”, you tune out the rest of her exasperated shouts as she heads to the elevators, staring at your computer screen for a second before running a hand down your face in frustration.

today was not your day.

when you had woken up, you were more than prepared to have a week of well-deserved rest and relaxation. what you discovered was an urgent email from your boss telling you that you had to come into work for an emergency (leave or no leave), you had managed to fall and bruise your arm before even leaving the house and spilled coffee on your favourite blouse. upon reaching work, you realised an incredibly dumb tech intern had managed to wipe out all the files pertaining to the upcoming pitch your company had prepared for a major client (hence the emergency) and that your department had to redo it all by the weekend.

“and of course, all this just has to happen the one time i decide to clear the leave i have backlogged. and when he’s finally back home.” you grumble to yourself as you grudgingly continue typing. a chime sounds and you reach over to grab your phone, unlocking it to see messages from said person you were talking about.

6.54pm

[goat husbando]: hey hey i landed already. how u doing? .o.

[goat husbando]: also its raining did you pack an umbrella?

[you]: i’m ok

[you]: i think so?

[you]: should have a spare one in my office anyway

[goat husbando]: ok see u soon :”)

a smile creeps onto your face, as it sinks in that your husband is finally back in the country after what seemed like an eternity (admittedly only six months) on tour in europe and america. taking a moment to stretch your sore muscles from sitting all day, you think back to how you even met him and wonder how you managed to survive it all.

- 24th july, 9.32pm. -

you take a sip of your chai latte, taking in the skyline of seoul before you. "being up here really puts my worries into perspective." you mutter to yourself.

all of a sudden, a body crashes into you and you yelp in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing onto the railing to support your weight. your chai latte, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky and you stare mournfully as it falls from your grip.

"oh my god, i am so so sorry! are you okay? ok i guess you're not, i just made you lose your drink. damn it younghyun, look at what you did-"

turning to look at the situation after making sure your limbs were all intact, you meet a tall boy, his blonde hair tousled by the wind, wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose. he was clad in an oversized flannel, a simple black shirt and blue denim jeans completing the outfit.

"um-" you make an effort to get this attention, seeing him arguing with another boy, his hair dyed with purple hues.

he spins around, hands flailing in desperation, eyes large from worry. "i am so sorry! aH what can i do to make it up to you??"

you can't help it. at the sight of him panicking immensely over your spilt latte, you burst into laughter, hands wrapping around your middle. "you.. you look like... like an octopus." you manage to get out in between breaths.

the boy ceased all movement abruptly, moving to lean against the railing next to you. "i guess i kind of do huh?" he chuckles to himself. extending a hand towards you, he smiles - a grin so bright and disarming that it takes your breath away for a split second.

"park jaehyung. how about i buy another drink for you?"

you guessed that the rest, like people said was history.

but the past six months truly felt like the longest six months of your life. it was his first tour after the both of you got married and you convinced yourself that things would be fine. life without jaehyung seemed to function normally at first, you still woke up in the mornings and went to work, just that the bed seemed a little larger now, blankets a little colder when you wrapped yourself in them. skype sessions were irregular given the time differences, but you both tried your best and you would be lying if you said you weren’t happy that you had a folder of pictures dedicated to one park jaehyung falling asleep in the midst of conversation. by the third month of the tour, you were in “peak withdrawal mode” as sohye had termed, with every small thing reminding you of the tall idiot who occupied your heart.

grocery shopping and having to stretch for items that he would normally reach easily for. subconsciously cooking for two instead of one. turning around excitedly to show him a meme and realising he wasn't around. missing his warmth as the weather turned colder and you dug out old sweaters to compensate.

the fourth month was when you started wearing his shirts to bed. somehow they still smelled like him, a comforting mix of sandalwood and grapefruit. the video calls lessened as the weeks went by, what with how tired he was from the consecutive shows. still, you pushed on - burying yourself in work and department meetings, refusing to allow yourself time to dwell on the missing presence of park jaehyung.

and then you re-watched the proposal video.

it was a random evening on the weekend and you decided to clear out some random bits and bobs you collected in your drawers over the years, when you saw the disc. once the video started, you immediately knew what it was. the video was shaky and badly lit, but watching it, you could see every moment that happened in your mind as clear as day.

- 23rd july 2018, 11.54pm -

“isn’t the view nice?” the camera lens veers into your face as you lean against a metal railing, making you flinch and jump back slightly.

"not so close, alex!" you laugh and push the camera backwards, turning back to the open view in front of you. you take a deep breath of the cool night air and stretch your arms out, feeling the wind rush between your fingertips.

"hey hey of course i'm excited! i haven't visited you in ages and to get to tour seoul with you? have some sympathy for your best friend ok." the voice behind the camera rises in pitch and the screen fumbles for a second before readjusting and a blonde appears next to you, holding up a peace sign.

the video ends up focusing on you again, back to leaning against the railing, eyes drinking in the night scenery - watching the city lights of seoul twinkle beneath you.

"you really like this place huh?" alex asks again.

you nod, smiling into the distance. "i met jaehyung here. about seven years ago? and we came here a lot for dates, it's quiet and hardly anyone can be bothered to walk up here since it's only footpaths up to this peak. we just sat around, ate take-out and talked together. i remember he asked me out here too. he brought his acoustic guitar and sang 'best part' before asking me to be his girlfriend."

you turn around to look at her, eyes narrowing slightly before you spot jaehyung behind her, carrying his well-worn acoustic guitar.

he slowly walks towards you, a grin on his face as he strums the guitar.

"if you love me, i can love you till the end. so stay with me don't go anywhere. you will be without a doubt, my last love story. so please be my finale."

he reaches you, taking off his guitar and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the forehead. kneeling in front of you, he grasps your hands and takes a breath.

"hey y/n. wow ok, i'm totally more nervous than i thought i was going to be. ok ok. we met here on this day-", he quickly looks down at his watch, "on this day seven years ago. meeting you has changed my life, as cliche as it sounds. during these seven years, you've supported me through all the good times and the bad, even when i might have been out of the country and not able to do the same for you. i once asked you to be my girlfriend here. but now, i want to ask another question. is that ok?"

you can only nod in response, tears already gathering in the corners of your eyes.

"y/n, would you do be the honour of being my wife?"

"yes, yes! park jaehyung, i would love to be your wife."

you paused the video then, curling into a ball on the couch. the apartment had never seemed emptier than at that moment, jaehyung’s missing larger than life presence causing an absence that left a gaping hole in your life. even the dish towels looked sadder, you laughed while blinking back tears as you made your nightly cup of tea. a few minutes later, you were seated by your bedside, staring at the cup of hot honey lemon you had somehow subconsciously made. it was jaehyung’s favourite drink before bed and as the scent of honey flooded your nose, you broke down. that night, you cried yourself to sleep listening to his albums, missing the feeling of his arms around you.

a loud knock on the door breaks you out of your reminiscing and you look up, mouth dropping open in surprise.

"someone requested for a delivery of one tall handsome man?"

park jaehyung leans languidly against the door of your office, a cheeky smirk on his face. his hair messily ruffled from the plane ride, one hand in his jacket pocket and the other holding a multitude of plastic bags.

"what-" you begin, when he shuffles over immediately, index finger out and shushing you.

when did he get here from the airport? how?

you were stunned, mind torn between wanting to run over to hug him and struck by how well he knew you.

"i figured i would pick my lovely wife up from work today. and i bought some takeout along the way too - it's your favourite - sushi and some strawberry shortcake from that small bakery you like. i got the car parked downstairs and i know you're definitely tired."

he places the food down on the office table, leaning down to peck your forehead as he somehow manages to simultaneously save the work on your laptop and shut it down. "so, how about say we head home hm?"

he cocks his head at you, and as you stare into his eyes, you know there's only one correct answer. you can never refuse park jaehyung. so you shut your eyes briefly, savouring the weight of his hand as he strokes your hair before getting up to pack your belongings.

"ah, i forgot. younghyun invited us to dinner tomorrow. wanna go?" he asks without looking at you, hands tapping away on his phone.

and you suddenly realise that he's always asking the questions. always making sure you're comfortable. always being there to catch you before you fall. you set your half-packed bag down on the table and reach out, tugging the edge of his coat.

"hey." you lick your lips, watch as his eyes trace the edges of your face. "park jaehyung, can i kiss you?"

his eyes imperceptibly widen, hand reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he grins teasingly. "how can i say no when you're asking me like that y/n?", he whispers, voice catching slightly on your name.

so, you reach a hand out, cupping his face and pull him down towards you as you tiptoe to reach him. the warmth of his lips on yours grounds you, releasing a tension you didn't even know you had and you snake your other hand around his waist, drawing him closer. his hands settle around your lower back, tongue slipping into your mouth as you him kiss deeper.

when you finally break away, face slightly flushed and lips redder than before, you catch a glimpse of jaehyung's smirk and refuse to look him in the eye. "you really missed me, didn't you?" he traces a finger down the side of your cheekbones.

your response is to bury your face into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of sandalwood. "i did. i really did miss you."

"mm. i would love to stand here and hug you all day but the food's gonna get cold babe. besides, you got me to yourself all night." he slowly untangles himself from your embrace, and you proceed to gather up your things. fingers firmly intertwined with his as you leave the office, your heart skips a beat as you look up at jaehyung.

your husband is finally home.

#jaeins fics #jaeins writes #jaehyung scenario #day6 fics #day6 writing #day6 au #day6 jae scenarios #day6 #jae #park jaehyung #day6network #day6writersnet #jae fluff #jae fanfic #day6 fanfiction

51 notes · View notes

thecrimsonvalley · 5 years

Note

001 | Send me a fandom: Kuon, 002 | Send me a ship: Joseph/Sebastian (The Evil Within), 003 | Give me a character: Brian Pasternak (Yuppie Psycho) 83

001| Send me a fandom and I will tell you my: Kuon

Favoritecharacter:Abe no Seimei. There is just something that resonates with me when itcomes to kick ass female characters that looks like they are 100 %done with all the bullshit happening in horror games. I’ve come torealize by answering this ask and the previous that this seems to bemy aesthetic when it comes to female horror game characters. xD

LeastFavorite character: Whilemy logical brain tells me Doman my goblin brain goes with Doryo. Idon’t know, there is just something that grinds my gear with acharacter that is a tag along but fills just about 0 function besidesa few plot clicks. I wish his role had been more active or that therehad been more emphasis or interaction with him because as he is inthe main game he really comes off as a douche that let’s someone elserun his errands and then bites the dust.

5Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):This is not the time or place for ships in my humble opinion.

CharacterI find most attractive: Abeno Seimei is definitely at the top though, to be honest,aesthetically I find most of the ladies pretty in this game.

CharacterI would marry: Seeabove answer, I would marry her hands down!

CharacterI would be best friends with: ProbablySakuya or Utsuki. Both seem to be the sort of person I could imaginehaving a good friendship with.

Arandom thought: Fromsoft,I will sell my soul to whatever deity you wish if you remake thisgame or continue this franchises with the sameaesthetics/atmosphere/gameplay.

Anunpopular opinion: Don’thave one for this game as far as I’m aware.

MyCanon OTP: Forall that I know, there are none.

MyNon-canon OTP:See above answer.

MostBadass Character: Thislist is just turning into an Abe no Seimei appreciation post is itnot? There is something so immensely satisfying to her coming intothis clusterfuck of a plot and being like “listen up sluts, I’mhere to fix this!”. It should be mentioned though that I find bothSakuya and Utsuki to be badass as well because of their determinationdespite all the creepy shissles going down.

MostEpic Villain: LordFujiwara. I feel a tad bad for calling him a villain, he would ratherfall into “boss” I suppose but I just think that the build up tohis fight is excellent. This is someone you’ve seen in theintro/trailer material, you don’t know what happened, you’re on edgeand then when he appears, that is some great freaking build up anddelivery :D

PairingI am not a fan of: Thisis not a shipping game for me.

CharacterI feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Wellto be honest, I feel like the minor cast, like Ayako, Doryo ect couldhave been fleshed out better. They are there but they feel likelittle more than set pieces that needs to move at a certain time tomake the plot work. I would have liked it more if they felt more likefleshed out characters I cared/were invested in.

FavouriteFriendship: Sakuyaand Dochin. They just seem to have a sort of close big sister/littlebrother type of friendship. That Dochin, the little bean, tries to beso brave is quite adorable!

CharacterI most identify with: Thatwould probably be Sakyua. It feels like most times I got no frickfrackle idea what’s going on either and it seems that everyone knowswhat’s up but won’t tell me :)

CharacterI wish I could be: IfI could have the same kind of ass kickery as Abe no Seimei I coulddie a happy man.

002| Send me a ship and I will tell you: Joseph/Sebastian (The EvilWithin)

WhenI started shipping them: Startedlow key shipping them as soon as I started playing the game. The shipgrew on me with time and I found that for myself it was one of thefew things about the game I came to enjoy in the end, sadly.

Mythoughts: Heywe had a perfect set up to have some sort of underlying romancebetween two men but we NEED to establish that our “scruffy whiteprotagonist with alcoholic tendencies” is HETRO TM. I knew thatshipping wasn’t possible of course because it’s, well, it’s generallyhow it goes with horror games.

Whatmakes me happy about them: Imaginingthem being huge dorks. This is something that makes me happy aboutmost ships, just imagining them being silly noodles while desperatelytrying to adult. These two are the sort that I see getting into a“who can eat the most marshmallows” contest in the office and assoon as someone opens the door they’ll try to pretend like nothing’sgoing on: “much adulting, very serious!”.

Whatmakes me sad about them: Thefact that Joseph is more or less forgotten in the second game. I’vealways had a thorn in my side with the writing of the games and itfeels like the creator just dumped out Joseph, who seemed to be avital part of Sebastian’s life, in favour of the “oooh mysteriousorganisation, oooh wife!” plot trope that I saw coming from a mileaway.

Thingsdone in fanfic that annoys me: Abusivetendencies between them. Portrayals of Sebastian being an abusivedrunk who more or less only have Joseph around as a fuck toy, thatreally is not my cup of tea.

ThingsI look for in fanfic: Fluffand comfort. I just need a bit of happiness with these two. Give mesomething warm, gentle and dorky!

Mywishlist: Myinterest with this franchise has stagnated so I really do not haveany wishes for this ship.

WhoI’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:Honestly,I would be most comfortable with them just ending up single. Couldhave been nice to have a game without any implied relationships atall.

Myhappily ever after for them: Thesetwo dorks moves into a house together while they try to figure outhow to care for Leslie and his needs. Adapting to a home life means alot of ups and downs, not to mention creative solutions to creativeproblems!

003| Give me a character & I will tell you: Brian Pasternak (YuppiePsycho)

HowI feel about this character: Ithink Brian is absolutely adorable and I want to protect this littlebean so much. He is really just trying his damn best and he deservesseveral pats on the back for that!

Any/allthe people I ship romantically with this character: Ihonestly have my own head canon of some sort of polyamorousrelationship between him, Kate and Doshi. It all builds around thedynamic of both Kate and Doshi feeling like Brian is a preciouslittle noodle that is too gullible for his own good. They all sharecoffee together whenever they can!

Myfavorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Brianand Mrs Sosa. These characters are just so wonderful in a friendshipmanner. The mental images of her inviting him to their video clubmeetings to watch strange indi horror flicks is just 10/10.

Myunpopular opinion about this character: Idon’t think I have one.

Onething I wish would happen / had happened with this character incanon: Personalopinion but I wish there hadn’t been too much pushing and shovingtowards Kate in the game. I do like that it seems to be implied to bemore in a friendship rather than a romantic kind of sense but still,I wish there had actually been an alternative to tone it down alittle, does that make sense?

Favoritefriendship for this character: Ihonestly like the idea of imagining some calmer friendships with hosco-workers once the entire game plot is done and over with. Justallowing these people to have some chill and semi normal officefriendships.

Mycrossover ship: Ido not have any of these.

#answer #guided-by-the-blood #KuOn #The Evil Within #Yuppie psycho #fandom asks #long post is long #thank you for asking me :D

4 notes · View notes

artist-of-indecision · 5 years

Text

Shadow Tracker

This post is inspired by numerous writing prompts and the game “Love Nikki Dress Up Queen”. The story is told me an enhanced human and soldier named Rica and it takes place in the futuristic sci-fi world.

https://youtu.be/WyjeWEYYp8k (listen to this for the first half of the story, I wanted to reflect on her experiences and background)

https://youtu.be/W2TE0DjdNqI (listen to this for the second half of the story, I wanted to give a sci-fi feel and to show her heartbreak)

https://youtu.be/5mGmbSRayEU?t=30 (example of robot dog functions 0:30-0:45)

Dog-napped

I limped, staggered, heavily breathing, panting unevenly. I held on to Hemis for support while Kaiser walked on ahead. Crimson droplets dribbled from my wound and formed a path, tracing my steps. The mission was completed successfully, however, an enemy scouting group returned sooner than we had expected so my term suffered injuries.

Hemis was the one mostly intact, just missing a part of his left ear. Kaiser was missing a leg and I got stabbed in my abdomen. I made sure to either retrieve or destroy their lost limbs so the enemy does not get their hands on any information.

No one glitched or lagged.

Right now, our priority is to find a safe spot to do first aid and report back as soon as possible. My visor got cracked but it should still work. Staying in enemy territory is not an option, more forces could be coming and I have not yet called for backup. I probably cannot take on a skirmish against another group, but I could perhaps handle one or two people. Kaiser and Hemis can still function, no problem.

We found a seemingly abandoned and damaged space pod, after scouting for signs of life, I went in and sent Hemis to keep watch. I reached behind me to grab my right cable and Kaiser automatically sat upright. I placed down my gun. I attached the cable to his back so he could scan my vitals while I improvised first aid. I did not bring a kit with me because I thought it was obstructive.

I tore off strips from the sleeves of my top and tied it tightly around the gash. I would check if there was anything stuck in the wound but attempting to remove anything could result in more blood loss, not to mention that getting blood on my hands would hinder my grip on my gun. A notification from Kaiser blinked across my goggle screen; his scan revealed that my life might be in danger if I continued losing blood. I removed the cable.

I sent a coded message to Lieutenant Lucia, my superior.

Almost immediately, I got a reply.

That’s odd, the lieutenant is not the type to compliment people randomly.

A few minutes later, Hemis detected a presence approaching. It could be an enemy so we quickly exited the space pod and found different hiding spots.. Even though the pod provided cover, any vehicle could explode if shot in the right places. I quickly assumed my sniper’s position - this strained my wound - aimed at the direction Hemis detected movement. A standard spacecraft grew larger in the distance.

I sent Hemis ahead to test if it was friend or foe, and kept Kaiser on standby. When they were about 100 meters away, Kaiser and Hemis suddenly turned off and collapsed. On high alert, I aimed at the vehicle. Suddenly, it felt as if my nerves were electrocuted and I blacked out.

Mad Dog

There are two cables attached to my back. They keep me sedated, calm, under control. The drug is probably why I am expressionless most of the time. They are my sustenance, they keep me alive. Both cables are frayed, due to wear and tear and the conditions of my missions - the harsh environment, the constant battles - yet they are still somehow secured together. I have not yet had a chance to see Doctor Sophia to get them fixed. Either I was busy with duties and missions or she was busy with her latest experiments. There should be no harm in delaying it more. You can see the black external layer and the glowing, fluorescent, neon green and yellow electricity flowing through the exposed fine lines of wiring. They match my dogs, Kaiser and Hemis. I should give them a scan too when I finally see Doctor Sophia. I always get a two weeks’ notice before my next mission, so I can prepare, train, rest. The higher ups value skilled personnel, after all.

I take on solo missions often. “You’re like a lone wolf, Rica” my comrade and roommate Angelika once said.

Apparently I bit someone when I was a kid. I went crazy for some reason and started attacking people. Like a mad dog, they say. That is one of the reasons why I wear a mask, Angelika said it looks like a muzzle that aggressive dogs wear. I like dogs. Another reason is because it hides my face when I have orders to kill people. They do not need to know my identity, I am just a [Shadow].

I never found out if they held a grudge because they did not survive one of their missions. It is not like I do not get dangerous missions, I think. There are only standard things like infiltrating enemy bases, finding and defusing hidden bombs, run-ins and battles with foes. Losing a limb or two is not a big deal, either. Some are even proud or excited because it means they get an enhanced artificial parts. That opinion is not very popular but also is not uncommon. Doctor Sophia gets excited because it means she has more materials to test on.

Doctor Sophia basically raised me when the organization took me in. She gave me an education and performed the risky numerous surgeries when I was heavily injured from perilous missions. That is why I have stitches all over my body. I was a guinea pig for her experiments but I did not care because it made her happy. Now I am stronger than normal humans; my bones are enforced with metal, my senses are heightened, there are ports in my back to attach cables to my spinal cord. The doctor created Kaiser and Hemis, specially made and customized for me and my missions. I cannot always have them around with me in my dorms unfortunately, because it is like always carrying a gun around, Hemis and Kaiser are weapons after all.

Involuntarily Tamed and Adopted

I was pretty good at finding lost things. I was a quiet kid who did not like talking to anyone but I enjoyed exploring whenever I could. I found objects such as key-chains and their owners praised me for it.

I once found a collar, which Doctor Sophia explained belonged to the organisations tracking dogs. There are no more dogs because it took too much time and resources to train them. She showed me the newly developed mechanic canines the organisation was going to use.

That was when I started liking dogs.

This event led me to train in scouting with Hemis and Kaiser and I eventually became the Vice-Captain of the [Shadow Trackers], our organisation's specialised tracking team. My dogs were less advanced back then. They are metaphorically and literally part of me. I can connect to their systems with my cables. I trust them more than I trust my superior-do not tell the lieutenant that.

But I have never been back-stabbed by the organisation. Doctor Sophia was like a mother, Angelika was like a sister or a best friend. Lieutenant Lucia was a tyrant-again, do not tell her that.

So what was this feeling of betrayal?

I woke up in the house of a girl and her brother, the artificial intelligence student prodigy, who I was supposed to assassinate. So why were they nursing me back to health? Did they not recognise me as their enemy? The brother could have hacked my equipment. That means I cannot contact anyone.

If the organisation did not kill me, that means I am still useful to them. Therefore, I decided to wait, secretly collect information from them while my injuries heal, and keep an eye out for orders to return. Weeks after I recovered, the siblings foolishly gave me freedom to do as I wished, without asking for compensation, allowing me to live with them.

I cannot let myself adapt to this mundane lifestyle. How can ordinary people be so naive and vulnerable? I needed to report back, it has been too long.

On my way back from ‘taking a walk’, I noticed a secret message in today’s newspaper. I grabbed one and rushed back to the house. Impatiently waiting for the doors to open after punching in the entry password, I looked at the paper. The last time I saw this type of code, it was for an important mission. I ran to my room-which I had already checked for cameras-and deciphered the message.

<RICA: YOUR FINAL MISSION IS TO LIVE A NORMAL LIFE-S, L, A>

Surprisingly, tears streamed down my face; even if I was in pain, I would not cry. I would never again see Doctor Sophia’s familiar lab ceiling, Angelika’s bouncing pink curls, or Lieutenant Lucia’s death glare, calling me weak.

I had never asked for this, yet those three risked their positions and lives in order to give me something they will never have themselves.

Crushing the newspaper in my shaking fists, I whispered “Mission accepted”.

1 note · View note

power-of-ages-writeblr · 5 years

Text

11/11/11 Tag (22/11/11? Tag?)

Another one of these! This time, I was tagged TWICE by the wonderful @sassypandacandy (go read her books,, i love them). I’ve gotta answer the questions, come up with my OWN questions, and then tag 11 people to answer, only I’m not going to tag eleven people because I still don’t think I quite KNOW eleven people yet. Also, because I got tagged twice with two different sets of questions, I’m going to answer both sets in one post, and then just come up with eleven questions of my own, because it takes me yonks to come up with questions and I’m lazy. Eso si que es, y’know?

What’s the first thing you remember writing?

A four-page story about a Diplodocus when I was… definitely before I was ten years old. Maybe like five or six. I was very proud of it.

What’s the last thing you wrote purely for yourself?

Actually, I pretty much always write for myself, so the last thing that I wrote/started to write… ooh-er. That’d be the Warrior Cats fanfiction I’ve been working on. :P

Are you a WIP playlist person or a WIP aesthetics person?

Playlist, probably. I tend not to make playlists specifically for WIPs – instead, I’ll assign songs and soundtracks to specific characters and scenes – but I’m still better at throwing together playlists then making aesthetics LMAO

What’s a book you wish you’d written?

Uuuuh… maybe it’s just because I’m young (barely an adult), but I don’t have anything where it’s like “ah I wish I’d used that idea” or “wish I’d written this book”. I still have a lot of writing ahead of me, hopefully, so all my ideas I hope to actually get out some day. (Assuming that’s,,, what the question is asking me)

What’s your favourite book adaptation?

Ironic because it doesn’t follow the books that closely, but I love the How To Train Your Dragon films very much.

Which of your characters would you like to have a conversation with? What would you like to talk about?

The downside to Pandemonium’s Bane being filled with eccentric personalities and cooky characters means that there’s actually few of them I’d LIKE to have a conversation with, because most would be too dickish or too annoying for my tastes xDD That being said, I think me and Plue are on very similar wavelengths, and we have a lot in common (such as both of us wanting to write), so I wouldn’t mind chatting with her for a bit if I had to.

Which of your WIP worlds would you most like to live in?

The Power of Ages stories are mostly set in one universe (the Nimbus System) so I guess I’d have to go with that one by default. There’s Neil’s dimension, I guess, but it’s destroyed, so…

Have you ever written anything inspired purely by a song? If so, what song was it?

I haven’t written anything inspired just by a single song, but I HAVE got certain scenes or character backstories based off of songs, or even the concepts they’re based around. I have a whole battle between brothers planned out to the soundtrack that plays when Shifu fights Tai Lung in Kung Fu Panda, and listening to the Iron Man soundtracks helped me with both the conception of a new character and her placement in my roster (and yes, she does invent things and fly around, although there are also some major differences)

Have you ever written poetry? Do you still? Why or why not?

I… haven’t written poetry. And the reason for that is… I mean, I guess it doesn’t really jibe with me? Granted I haven’t considered it heavily, but it was always my least favourite aspect of learning English at school, and I just never fell in love with it the same way I fell in love with writing conventional narratives.

Who would direct an adaptation of your writing?

I ain’t big on directors, so IDEK. I guess in terms of the rewrite of Maelstrom (my current main WIP) I’d pick Sam Raimi, who proved with his Spider-Man films that he can blend fun superhero narratives with slightly darker elements pretty well.

How do you motivate yourself when you don’t feel like writing?

Mainly by having multiple projects to work on! That way, if I ain’t feeling what I’m working on, I can switch over to another one, and bingo bango, I can keep writing. (Hypothetically. Sometimes it ain’t that simple, obviously.) I also use music, and I also take advantage of being in situations where it’s like, I’d rather write then do the alternative. Do you know how much writing I got done in lessons? So much. :P

What scenes are the worst to write?

The ones that I haven’t planned out – sometimes I have very specific ideas for how I want scenes to happen, and I’m excited to get to them, but other times they’re just obligatory because there’s certain information I have to convey. That makes it a challenge to write it in a compelling way, because why should the reader care if I don’t?

What can you say is a thing you love most about your writing?

I’d say I like the dialogue/character interplay/narrative description-y sort of stuff. I think I’m good at giving everything levity, and keeping it breezy and entertaining even if I myself find the writing process to be a bit of a slog. Plus, it’s funny to read back over, and it’s also funny to watch my discord quote a line and then keysmash at it. :P

What is writing advice that you take to heart?

It’s from Aaron Sorkin’s writing masterclass – the idea that a story is defined by the main character’s INTENTION, the OBSTACLE facing them, and the TACTICS they use to overcome it.

How do you keep yourself from quitting writing together?

Honestly, it’s not like I have to try that hard! By this point I’m desperate to tell these stories that I have in mind, so I have a sort of innate compulsion to write because I wanna get it all out there. I’ll get back to you if that compulsion runs out, but for now, I see myself writing long into the future.

What is the strangest thing you’ve searched up on the internet for writing purposes?

Probably the capabilities of medieval-era people to recognise nuclear technology. (And for the record, the answer is “pretty low”.)

Not a question, but shoutout a writeblr (or multiple) that you think needs to hear that they are awesome and doing a great job (by the way everyone, you all are awesome and doing a great job. Keep it up.)

Well obviously I’m gonna shout out the person who tagged me in the first place – Kels. I await the final(?) book in the DOOT series with great anticipation.

Your OCs are trapped on a deserted island, what would they be doing?

I WANNA say they’d try and work as a team, but, uh. It may not go so well. Dante and Plue would probably be the most practical. Gaia would be good at grunt work but not focus on the task at hand, Rose would be functionally useless but good at moral support, Jacen would try to organise things but Gaia would just push him in the sea for jokes… I reckon they’d escape eventually, I suppose, but it wouldn’t exactly be a clean-cut affair, you know? xD

What is your biggest inspiration for your WIPs?

I actually have various inspirations – I think collectively my biggest inspiration is the MCU, in that it’s a bunch of interconnected stories set in the same universe about different characters and also there are superpowers. xDD

A habit you have when it comes to writing?

Not doing it (thank you writer’s block)

A fact about your world and/or characters?

I have debated killing of MANY of my characters, but have only actually come to concrete decisions one way or the other with a few.

If your WIP/s got turned into a movie or series, what would be the quote on the promotional poster or trailer?

Oh, I’m gonna do this for ALL the WIPs, this seems fun!

Of Encounters and Trysts – Two Hearts, One Soul (or something equally cheesy)

Hit and Run – Even the indomitable aren’t invincible

Maelstrom – Destiny Begins

The Destroyer of Worlds – One Case, One Team, One Superpower

Survivor – It’s every man for themselves

Savants – Not so different

Omnia Vincit Amor – Good things come to those who get traumatised

Cometh the Hour – Six thousand years from home

Alright, now it’s (finally!) time for my eleven questiones:

1 – Does music help you write, or does it just distract you?

2 – What’s your favourite writing tool? A laptop? Notepad and pens? Quills and inkpot?

3 – Do you have to physically go to places to get a feel for them and feel as though you can set writing in them?

4 – What got you into writeblr?

5 – How well can your OCs dance, do you think?

6 – Do you have a favourite writing snack? If so, what is it?

7 – Bionicle. Thoughts?

8 – Is there a specific piece of media (movie, show, book, w/e) that you could say has been more of an inspiration to you than anything else?

9 – What’s the best soundtrack you know for getting pumped and hyped up?

10 – If you could only write one genre for the rest of your writing career, what would you go with?

11 – What’s your favourite music-based meme? (Examples include “LET’S GO”, “CREEPER/AWW MAN” and “We Are Number One But ___”)

Tagging… @thelimeonade, and @dawnuchiha!

#Not Power of Ages #Tag Game #11/11/11 tag #these questions are always fun to answer!!!

2 notes · View notes

gabriel4sam · 6 years

Text

The Starbird Corp, a Star Wars fanfic

This one is for @igaveyoufairwarning , because of something said in a discussion about the pairing in Mace Windu Fandom Safe Space.

So of course when I was in the idea to write a small drabble, it’s now a 5,000 words fic about Mace Windu and the clones post Order 66 and about finding love again, with extra Force Ghost and Boil sleeping his way all over the Yavin’s base.

And for one, it’s no more than Teen for the rating.

Under the cut, the fic:

They didn't see it coming. The troopers went to sleep one night in the barrack, a night like any other on Thyferra, hot, humid, unpleasant to human lungs, and they didn't feel the gas that was slowly invading room after room. The mist was tasteless, scentless, almost colourless. Soon, the whole base was full of its insidious presence.

Next morning every stormtrooper, every officer, every technicians still here to feel it woke up with a terrible hungover. There was a lot of swearing and throwing up as haggard men tumbled from their bunks in an effort to reach the fresher, or woke up on the floors of the hallways.

And the discovery of the thefts didn’t help. The hangar was empty of the aircrafts, the computers neatly sliced and the weapons stock stolen. Everything that could be taken apart and shipped off in a few hours had disappeared, including food, medication and even the Commander’s uniforms.

“The Moff will have my head,” the Commander had lamented and he immediately had started to search for someone to throw to the wolves instead.

For a moment he thought he had found it.

From the five hundred men of the garrison, eighty were missing. Had they done that? He couldn't be guilty if this was some spy work. And they were all the old model, to use the officer's favourite expression, clones instead of real men like him.

But the holosurveillance’s tapes proved him wrong.

Stormtroopers had come, or well, men armoured like stormtroopers, and dismantled and stolen everything...and when they had gone, they had taken the clones on stretcher.

With a sight, the officer marked them on the stolen goods list.

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

The world was long to come back. For long, there was only fog and whispers.

Boil saw Waxer.

He tasted bacta, the thing coating his tongue.

He saw a body cloaked in brown, the face hidden to him.

He heard a canon and there was only silence after, something falling from a high cliff.

He saw bodies, piles of bodies burning and the smell was so terrible that even the filters of his helmet weren't enough.

He saw blood, so much blood, rivers of it, and he was walking in it, and the level was rising so much he was at danger of drowning.

Then he woke up, a yell to his lips, his heart in danger of exploding for how strong it was beating.

"Vod, vod, everything is safe. You're safe, safe, vod," The voice was familiar, he couldn't place it, everything was too much, too bright, too noisy, too moving... He turned around and threw up.

Someone was rubbing his back and he felt a glass pressed to his hand.

"Here. Rinse, spit."

He leaned down against a body. After a moment, his sight adjusted enough and he saw the face, the same as his.

"Waxer?" But no, the hair was wrong, and the scar around the eye, he knew that scar.

"Commander? Commander, what happened?"

Cody's expression was pained and in Boil's head, everything was blending in some sort of mess, nothing made sense. Had he shoot....he was sure he had shoot civilians!!

"Oh Kriff, am I malfunctioning? Am I being decommissioned?"

"No, brother, you functioned exactly like you were supposed to. Drink the rest of the water. There is a shower with your name on it, and then I will explain everything."

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

Yavin 4's base was an organised mess. It was nothing like Boil remembered the GAR or the Empire's army. It was logical: secret rebellions have slightly more difficulties obtaining pieces for their ships!

He followed Cody from hangars to hallways, listening to his crash course about the Rebel Alliance. After years in the Empire's army, with almost only human males, it was strange to see so many races working together, all genders, all colours, all shapes, united in one common goal : to make the galaxy a better place in restoring democracy.

He saw brothers, here and here, some with fresh scars on the side of their heads, some with hairs already grown back.

He even recognized some who had been in his last posting in the Empire. It was quite a shock to realize he didn't know their names. All of them, he had meet in the Empire and there, only their numbers had had an importance. What had become of his batch brothers? Of the other brothers of Ghost Company?

“Commander...”

“Yes, you have many questions I suppose.”

They went to the mess and took two serving of some stews and two canteens of water, and went to eat outside, in the shadow of a tree, close enough from the base but far away enough for their conservation to not be overhead.

“I don't remember the last time I had real food,” Boil half-marvelled. The stew seemed the best thing in the world.

“I know, brother,” Cody answered, his smile tight.

The things the former Commander had to explain to him, Boil didn’t like them. He cried, he wasn’t ashamed of it. What other answer could there be to the revelation that you were never more than a tool fated to water with his blood the birth of a Sith Empire?

Cody let him cry all he could, an arm around Boil’s shoulder. He was just there, silent, the support his brother needed in that moment.

And then came the question.

The question every brother had asked, after waking up with his mind free in the Rebel Alliance’s base or ships. From the pilots to the foot soldiers, the cavalry, the demolition specialists…Every one of them, free of the chip, had asked the same question:

“How can I help?”

“There is no obligation,” Cody said, “The Alliance doesn’t force anyone. If you ask, they can offer you a small stipend to go your own way and search for a better life. In the Empire, you would be too much recognizable, of course, but a few brothers have left for the Unknown regions and can always be relied on, whether you want to stay with them or just make it a first stop.”

“How can I help?” Boil only insisted.

“…We have a special section.”

“We? The vode?”

“Not only.”

That’s when Boil saw them, disembarking from a shuttle, right in the axe of their tree.

A group of brothers, he would have recognized them everywhere, even if they weren’t wearing armours but the mismatch mix of uniform, personal choices and strange ideas that seemed to be the usual for the rebels.

In the middle of the group was a man in Mandalorian armour, helmet under his arm, towering over the brothers. The nature of the Mandalorian armour was evident. That man couldn’t go in mission with his face uncovered.

Because that man was the very-officially dead Mace Windu.

“What the kriff?” Boil said and Cody put a nastily sharp elbow in his ribs.

“Don’t talk like that about one of your commanding officers.”

“One of…”

“Meet the Starbird Corp. Well, a part of. We are more or less four thousand angry vode and something like twenty surviving Jedi. We give a hand to the Rebellion when we can, of course, but we have one speciality.”

“Which is?”

Cody smiled.

“Well, you, of course. And every brother still in the clutches of the Empire. We find them, rescue them and dechipp them.”

“And the Rebels just…just let you? Instead of working for them?”

“We aren’t slaves, vode. We are members of the Rebel Alliance and the vode still chipped in the Empire’s ranks are victims to be rescued.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You should meet Senator Mon Mothma, once. She’s the one who insisted with the Alliance High Command for giving us free reign on our missions and a good chunk of the budget. And now, come, it’s time to meet the others.”

That night, Boil went to sleep in an individual room for the first time in his life. The quartermaster had given him everything he had asked for, colourful clothes and some perfumed shower gel, and every brother on base had insisted to add to his new possessions. A holobook. Chocolate. A nice razor. There was a wonderfully soft jacket that was apparently from Senator Organa, who wasn’t on base right now but had left standing orders and a provision of clothes as gifts for newly liberated clones.

There had been a small party, apparently the norm for every new brother freed.

“You have a previously undiscovered allergy to the sedative the medics use on the brothers during de-chipping,” Cody had explained, “We almost lost you and they kept you in artificial coma for a week to let your body time to heal. That’s why the others who were with you when you stole you woke up before you. We already had a party for them, but every occasion is good here.”

Boil had too many cups of some nice Bothan wine, meet many brothers, and also others Rebels, some who were in the habits to work with the Starbirds, some who had only saw the lights in the hangar used for the party and come for a drink. General Windu didn’t come, which Boil didn’t know what to think about, and he knew the reality would crash on him soon, but for now he was free and he wanted to savour it a little, before the rage about their fate settled in.

He even drunkenly made out with an equally drunk Devaronian cargo pilot, before Cody stopped them, grumbling that it was every time the same thing, that he was tired of playing the old duenna and that they could resume the next day if they still wanted.

That night, Boil dreamed of General Kenobi.

The Jedi was standing on the cliff where he had died. He wasn’t looking at Boil but at the small pool, so far away below, where his body had fallen.

Next to him, a brother Boil didn’t know was standing, his hand on General Kenobi’s shoulder. Kenobi was shaking, bruises on his face, and right on the heart, a blaster burn as big as the fist. At every breath, a little white from the bones could be seen.

The Jedi turned to Boil. His eyes were unseeing, as white as an old sentient with cataract.

“It’s important, Boil. You have to tell them.”

In the dream, it didn’t seem strange to speak to a dead man.

“Sir, I will,” Boil said, “what is the message?”

“You have to tell them, Boil. It’s so important.” Blood was pouring from his mouth with every breath and his tone was begging.

Boil woke up in cold sweat.

“What the fuck?”

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

Cody was yawning by the time he reached his quarters, the closest possible from the centre of command. The day had been busy, from a briefing first thing in the morning for Rex’s strike team, which had been followed by too much paperwork and an Intelligence briefing, to his usual row with Borsk Fey'lya, and the emotions of seeing Boil again and sharing with him the truth of what had happened…

No matters how many times he did it, it was never easy to reveal to a brother the depth of their slavery.

The chips, the Sith, Order 66, the years of mindless automaton slaughtering civilians, every brother had a breaking point, and every brother reached it, broke, yell, wept, all in Cody’s arms.

It had been eight years since the birth of the Empire, six years and a few months since Cody himself had been freed and taken his place as one of the members of the Alliance High Command, and it was never easier.

There was light in his quarters when the door opened. The man he shared them with was already there, engrossed in something in his holopad.

“You could have come to Boil’s party,” Cody remarked in entering, but the other didn’t answer.

Cody always did thing in the same order; first his shoes left next to the door, then he washed up his hands and his face, put his comm’ on ‘important communications only’ then and only then he felt more like a man, less like the de facto leader of the Starbirds troops.

“Mace?” He tried again, when he sat next to him and took a look at what had the other man fascinated. It was an intelligence report on the Wookies enslaving.

Cody sighed. There was keeping himself aware of the state of the Empire, and there was torturing himself with it. He took his blaster out and put it on the small table. He didn’t like when the weapon was too far away, even on base.

“I brought you back something to eat from Boil’s party. Where you should have come.”

That snapped Mace Windu out of his musing.

“I didn’t want…I wanted him to have time before being forced to see a Jedi. He already will have to work with me in the Starbird Corp-”

“Once again, no one of us feels forced to work with you,” Cody said, even if it was for the billionth time.

A shadow passed on Mace Windu’s face. The freedom the Rebel Alliance offered to the clones was for him a proof that the Jedi had failed themselves, when faced with the same question. The Korrun bore that guilt, and many others, like an anchor around his neck; dragging him to the bottom, no matters how many hours of meditation, and no matters what Cody and the other said.

One of the other Jedi surviving had once tried to explain something to Cody about Mace’s dark thoughts, about shatterpoints and the Force’s tainted state, and how it felt, but there were so many philosophical reference that they had lost Cody early in the explanation.

“Eat,” Cody insisted, pushing in his direction the box he had bought back. It seemed his fate would forever include taking care of stubborn Jedi who thought, like the big idiots they could be, that they transcended the need of the body.

Mace turned his head, as if caught by a rightful reproach. He always knew when Cody thought about Obi-Wan.

Another guilt to add to the string of them, as if he had taken something from the dead Jedi, when working together had brought Cody and him closer, three years before.

Cody pinched his lips.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he announced and fled to the bathroom.

Under the warm water, he calmed. Yes, Mace had issues. It wasn’t exactly surprising, with him being the only surviving Jedi Master of an Order slaughtered to the last Younglings. Cody had a whole mess of issues himself, despite the help offered by the medics of the Rebel Alliance, and Obi-Wan was also one of them, if for vastly different reasons from Mace. And sometimes, their issues collided.

When he left the bathroom, it was with the special medical kit of Mace, as a peace offering.

Mace had eaten everything obediently and was preparing the infusion of berries they liked to drink in the evening. It had interesting medical properties and helped with the pain of old wounds, something both of them desperately needed. He smiled to Cody, nothing more than a quick shadow of a smile, but he wasn’t a man of big, extravagant moments.

Cody helped him with the prosthesis, unfastening one of them from his forearm, letting visible the stump and the neural electrodes in it. When Mace Windu had fallen from Palpatine’s office window, his two hands had been cut by Skywalker’s lightsaber and in those first times of the Empire, in the panic and the disorganisation of the few people who didn’t believe in Palpatine’s tales, Mace had received the proper care neither for those wounds, nor for those caused by the fall, or the electrocution which had happened just before.

Consequently, his body had rejected the first prosthesis so violently his immune system had staged a revolt against the neural implant, and the Rebel Alliance had almost lost what had been at the time their only Jedi. Rex, the only free brother at the time, and already a rebel, had recounted to Cody the efforts of the medics and the way all the members of the burgeoning Rebel Alliance had gravitated to the infirmary and the bacta tube. Like there was a correlation between the survival of Master Windu and the survival of their growing rebellion.

If Mace had received proper care fast enough, he could have worn prosthesis which would have been almost as good as his lost hands, like Skywalker, damn him, had worn. Now, he had to take them down regularly and to care for the stumps with great meticulousness to stop infection. Before they became closer, Mace had done it himself, but his prosthesis didn’t have the fine motor controls of a hand and it was easier when Cody helped.

It would be quicker if Cody could do the two at the same time, but neither of them was comfortable with the idea of Mace without a hand, even for a moment, even on Yavin 4.

Cody cleaned up the stump, coated it in bacta cream, then they read together one of the Starbird squad mission review. One hour after, Cody washed away what was left of the cream and helped Mace put on his prosthesis again, then they did the other one. That one, they let free for the night, with only a light bandage. It was better for the stump.

Mace didn’t meditate that night, which was rare. And when the lights were out, Cody felt his body plaster itself against him closer than Yavin 4’s climate made them in the habits to.

“I will go and welcome Boil tomorrow,” Mace said in the dark.

“You know it’s not obligatory. You’re no more chained to our team than any newly freed brother is.”

“I know. But it is important work. Whatever time I have left, helping you free your brothers is a good use of it.”

“I know that Bothan went to you again-“ Cody said, because he knew how some members of High Command still thought using so much people and money for the clones was a waste of time, and said Bothan was the worst of them.

“Fey'lya prides himself so much in seeing what he believes is the big picture that he can forget the most important. All the galaxy is enslaved right now, but your brothers don’t even have their own mind and are doubly prisoners of the Sith.”

Mace kissed Cody behind the ear.

“I choose the vode. And I will never regret it,” He said, his voice vibrant.

Cody turned to him and kissed him, hard. Sleep suddenly seemed uninteresting.

Yes, they had issues.

So, so many issues.

Nevertheless, happiness could be found even after the darkest hour. He had lost the first Jedi he had loved and Mace had lost the first man he had broken the Code for. They could be killed almost every day.

They were still happy.

Sometimes, it could be a little hesitating. But it was good.

He had loved and killed Obi-Wan and the time he had shared with Mace was now thrice longer that the year he had had with Obi-Wan.

Mace had loved and lost Ponds, and had been with Ponds’s brother for a time that was almost five times longer than the one he had shared with Ponds.

Cody rolled them over, pining Mace under him, then he attacked his lover’s light tunic, pressing feverish kisses against the skin of Mace’s throat. He groped blindly for the light on the bedside table. He wanted to see him. He wanted to see Mace and for Mace to see him, to know who he was with.

“I see you,” Mace said, “I see you, Cody,” and he drew him closer into his arms.

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

Life wasn’t exactly easy in the Starbird Corp, Boil discovered. Hard work, long hours, frustrating results.

But it was good, so good. There was something powerful in waking up in the mornings knowing it was to make the galaxy a better place.

He was working with brothers again, true brothers, free brothers, not the mindless automatons of the last year, and the Rebels themselves were good people. They threw medical help at him until he accepted to speak to someone about his years in the Empire, and didn’t even frown when he choose to deal with the trauma in sleeping with half the cargo pilots contingents, Devanorian from the first night included.

Then he settled down on Yavin 4, mission after mission. He worked with Cody, with Rex, with Gregor, with Wolffe. With Mace Windu, even if he didn’t exactly like it: the man tried so hard to protect the clones that he put himself in stupid danger for it, which in turn very much complicated the brothers’ mission.

Boil even saved Senator Mon Mothma’s life once and if the adrenaline gave them some probably bad ideas, in the time needed by the rest of the Alliance to find them, nobody had to know. And if sometimes they had another go at it, they were both adults and it concerned nobody else.

It would have been as good as he could wish for without Kenobi’s kriffin ghost.

Every night, his former General haunted Boil’s dreams. Night after night, he looked less like the corpse they had left on Umbara after Order 66 and more like their beloved General, but it was still a nightmare.

Every morning, Boil woke up with the same sense of urgency, of an important duty, but never, in all this nightmares, Kenobi told him anything more useful than “You have to tell them”. Boil talked about it, again and again, with his therapist. Guilt about the Jedi’s slaughter wasn’t probably a new one for the Rebel Alliance’s medics, who were in the habits to work with the vode, but at some facial tics on the Rhodian’s face, Boil was sure the woman was surprised about the specifics of the form it took with him.

“You have to help me,” Boil pleaded to Kenobi, dream after dream, “you have to give me the message!”

“You have to tell them”, Kenobi repeated, eyes begging. He looked healthy and healed by now. At his side, that brother Boil didn’t know had the same expression.

He taken to roam the base, late in the night, trying to recover from the nightmares. He often ran into Mace Windu, but they ignored each other and went their way, busy with their own guilt and bad dreams. The Jedi didn’t really frequent anyone but Cody, from what Boil had seen. Not even the other Rebels Jedi, led conjointly by Quinlan Vos and T'ra Saa. Windu had even left to T'ra Saa his place on the High Command, when she had joined the Alliance after having tracked down and killed Vader.

In missions, Mace Windu was the most efficient agent the Starbird Corp could dream of, and perhaps also the most death-wishing idiot Jedi who ever was. Outside, he retreated in his shell.

“You have to tell them,” Obi-Wan Kenobi pleaded, again and again, and Boil would have given a hand for that to stop. One night, Boil changed his method.

He turned to the unknown brother, who still had his hand on Kenobi’s shoulder in a show of support.

“What’s your name, vode?” Boil tried, and to his intense surprise, he received an answer.

Ponds.

Ten minutes after, he entered this name into the Alliance’s computers. The free vode had begun to detail in the mainframe a list of all brothers, dead and alive, using files sliced of Kamino. It would serve in their search for other brothers to rescue, but also as a way to remember all the brothers it was too late for.

If Ponds was a delirious creation of his mind, he would go to the medics to be declared unfit, because he would be a risk in mission.

But the computer spit up a result.

Kriff.

Commander Ponds, of Lightning Squadron. Served on Simocadia, Juma 9, Behpour, Malastare. Died on Year 14 after the Great ReSynchronization. In cause of death, instead of the reference of the battle, the person who had entered Ponds into the computer had put down: murdered.

Kriff.

Lightning Squadron. He knew about them. They were part of of the 91st Reconnaissance Corps. They were Mace Windu’s troops.

What the kriff?

It was so early it could still be considered night. Boil was in his pyjamas, the bluest and silkiest thing he had found in the quartermaster’s stock, with only his boots and his jacket.

He still went to drum on Cody and Windu’s door. But as he considered himself smart, he made a detour to the mess for three cups of caff.

“The base better be burning,” Cody said when he opened the door and found him.

Boil offered one of the cups as a peace offering to his glaring brother.

“I need to tell you something, like, right now,” He said to him and Cody let him pass. The quarters were slightly bigger than Boil’s own, but not so much for two people and from the door on the other wall, he could see a bed still unmade, before Mace Windu stepped through the door of the bedroom and it closed. Apparently, he slept with a tunic more open that what he wore in daylight, letting Boil see the nice, purple bite on the side of the collarbone, and it broke Boil’s mind, until Cody nudged him from his elbow.

“The important thing you woke us up for?”

“Oh yes. Hem, I think I’m haunted by our former General and by Master Windu former Commander,” Boil answered, and because he hadn’t know a good night of sleep since his arrival here and was pretty sure it was in fact, partly the fault of Cody and Windu, he timed it just when his brother took a large sip of the caff.

“What the kriff?” Cody spluttered, caff flying everywhere.

They made him meditate.

Of course they did.

Boil sat down all night on the highest degree of the Yavin 4’s pyramid, Mace Windu exactly in the same position facing him, Cody next to Boil and nudging him every time Boil fall asleep.

It wasn’t probably the first meditation session for Cody, Boil remarked in petto. His position seemed as flawless as Master Windu. Probably a consequence of having a thing for Jedi.

The gigantic Yavin ran its course across the sky and Boil’s ass hurt from sitting on the stone for so long, and he was hungry, thirsty and sleepy and suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear anymore the night’s noises, from the wind in the foliage, to the base noises.

He opened his eyes. Across the platform, he could see two transparent silhouettes, one brighter than other. Ponds was filtering in and out of view, except for his hand in General Kenobi’s hand. It was like the clone was draining the mean to appear from that point of contact. Heart in his throat, Boil stood up, hearing the other two do the same at his side. Cody made a noise that could have been a sob, and that Boil immediately swore to himself he would forget.

General Kenobi had a smile. He looked younger than Boil had ever saw him.

“I thought I would never succeed to reach you,” he said, “I have been yelling in the void so long.”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody said, his voice wet and Boil wished so hard he wasn’t there, because it was too intimate for witnesses.

“I’m so proud of you,” Obi-Wan continued, and his free hand passed across Cody’s cheek, “I’m so proud of you and I forgive you. You were never guilty, Cody, but if you need to hear it, know that I forgive you. For my death, and for continuing to live.”

“Ponds, oh Ponds,” Mace murmured and for Boil it was even worse than Cody, to hear the Jedi like that.

The dead Commander had a gest, like to touch Mace Windu’s prosthesis.

“Your poor hands,” he said, “and your poor heart. Mace, I’m so happy my brother is there to take care of you.”

“It wasn’t… I didn’t search to replace you…” Mace Windu insisted, and Ponds smiled.

“I know, love, I know. And I’m happy you found each other,” he said, flittering out of view.

“You need to live,” Obi-Wan said, and he was becoming more transparent every second,“ and you need to continue the good work you’re doing. The Starbird Corp are already wrapping the time line into a better one. But there is important mission, for them and the Alliance, a mission that will quicken the end of the Empire.”

“Genosis,” Ponds continued, and only his voice reached them now “the Alliance needs to send spies to Genosis. What is being prepared there would give the Emperor the reach to do such harm….”

“We’ll go,” Cody swore, “We’ll go. Don’t leave –“

“We never really will,” Obi-Wan answered, “We’ll be with you, always. Now live, my love, my friend. Live, the two of you, and we’ll see each other in the Force.”

And at that point, Boil woke up, on his side on the stone, trembling like he was crashing from stims poisoning and crying like he hadn’t since Waxer’s death. Mace Windu and Cody were even worse. Supporting each other, they hobbled to the mess.

“Caff, and perhaps alcohol, and send a message to High Command. Meeting at the first hour” Cody said to the first brother who saw them and they collapsed on a nearby table.

“Kriff,” Boil said, “my head feels like an X-Wing crashed on it. Why couldn’t they find someone else to play ghostly-radio?”

“An excellent question,” Mace Windu answered and he pinned Boil’s under his gaze. Boil gulped. It was like trying to stay calm under a predator’s gaze. He had never remarked how the dark eyes could become cold and piercing.

Suddenly, the tension abated and Windu looked less like a warrior ready to strike and more like an exhausted man, in need of a good meal and a twenty hours nap.

“Kriff,” he said and Cody did a double take at the word.

“I owe you two apologies, Boil,” Windu said.

“Eh, sir, not really-“

“Obi-Wan didn’t succeed in contacting me because I wasn’t listening. I was too busy feeling guilty about my relationship with your brother, thinking I had either stolen something from my dead friend-“

“Not a thing to be stolen, thank you very much,” Cody remarked.

“- or either that I was replacing Ponds by his brother and that it was really uncouth. And the second apology is more about the how Obi-Wan succeed in contacting you.”

“I’m one of his former men?”

“Yes, you are, and it probably helped, but it isn’t the most important reason. I suppose it has always been in you but the chip erased it. Still, I should have feel it the second you woke up here, your brain free. Only my refusal to really connect with you and your brothers, the guilt I feel about your fate, stopped me from feeling it. I saw you were a gigantic shatterpoint, of course, but I thought you would soon be on a very vital mission for the Alliance.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Boil, you’re Force Sensitive. Have you ever thought about Jedi training?”

And around them, the base slowly woke up, as they talked and set in motion what would one day be the end of the Empire.

#mace windu #commander cody #clone trooper boil #star wars #my fics #Rebel era

22 notes · View notes

faces-in-unexpected-places · 6 years

Text

Do You Have the Time? Episode 007: Family

[March 26th, 2018, 11:53]

Madison stood outside of the main chemistry building with her headphones on and scrolled through various apps on her phone. She had tied her windbreaker around her waist because the weather decided to cooperate half-way through the morning. March was never a predictable month where she lived. Some days were freezing, others were windy, some snowed, and even more variants were sunny. Today was supposed to be freezing, but all patches of snow were gone by 10:00. A glare pierced her retina, and she shielded her face with her free hand. And look who decided to come out today. Luckily for Madison, the impossible-to-perceive changes made by the climate’s spring season often left her backpack riddled with useful things. Usually they were left unintentionally hidden somewhere on account of the sudden need for some other seasonal accessory in the past, but she wasn’t about to start doubting her convenient and forgetful way for coming through for her future self now.

Madison rifled through the various pockets and compartments of her bag for her pair of sunglasses. Within the minute, she found them stowed away in some place she has no recollection of putting them in. In that moment, she could feel the sun. She put her Ray-Bans on.

People complimented her on her sunglasses a lot, which surprised her when she bought them. At first, she was worried that she might look too much like Harry Potter because the lenses were circular; but she later decided that it didn’t matter. Harry Potter was freaking awesome and if someone said that she did in fact look like him, then it would have been the kindest words they could have given her. She wondered if Harry wore round sunglasses just like his regular prescription. So long as he had a separate pair of sunglasses that were prescription and he didn’t have those clip-on lenses that old people use. Maybe sixty-year-old HP would use them.

Madison hummed in her thoughts and chuckled.

She wondered if Leopold wore those kinds of glasses. Immediately after, Madison remembered that Leopold did not wear prescription glasses to begin with, so the clip-ons would be pointless. The clip-ons did seem useful, though. If she could pull off regular, circular sunglasses, maybe she could sport some prescription glasses with sunglass clip-ons. She supposed the only conflict standing in her way was that she had 20/20 vision.

She opened her web browser on her phone and typed ‘how to damage your eyesight’. Something about her train of thought and actions caused her to erupt in laughter. Surprisingly, the first few search results are exactly what she was ‘looking for’. She rolled her eyes at the idea, chuckled and returned to her various phone apps. Jeremy was four minutes late. Maybe she would hassle him for his obvious inaccuracy. Her grin strengthened on her face as she considered the idea. A message appeared at the top of her screen while she was on her entertainment high. The last thing she wanted to see at the moment.

‘General Chemistry I: Grade Posted 11:54’.

Her smile wore away and she opened up the notification. Might as well get it over with as soon as she could. The reason that she was let out early, that she hid from the group chat, was because today was an exam day. Her third exam out of five. And she also happened to be blessed with a professor who is so eager to mark all of her wrong answers that he does so before the official end of the class period. Exam III: 71%, C-.

Madison sighed and shut off the phone’s screen. Stuffing it back into her pocket felt like the best course of action in response to that news. Just in time, Jeremy pulled up in front of the chemistry building for her. Eager to leave campus, she leapt down the stairs and threw herself into the passenger seat of the car. Jeremy quietly acknowledged her and set them on course for home.

“So, what happened with the lab?” Madison asked, expecting further explanation from the group chat..

“Leslie and I made some headway before actual work started, but once it did, Sophia came in and shut it all down,” he replied flatly.

“God, what did she do?”

“Found a way to ‘evacuate’ us because of some suspected gas leak.”

“Damn. Is it legit, do you think?”

“Not sure. We didn’t have enough time to really investigate it. We just took everything we could and left before they kicked us out,” he explained, “I had to take IO to stay in the robotics lab.”

“Oh, poor little guy. That sucks.”

“The robotics lab… that Sophia volunteers in,” he said uncomfortably.

“What?” Madison yelped and turned towards him, “Why would you do that?”

“What else could I have done, Madison?” he replied, sharply, “I have no other spaces to keep IO in. You know what happens if we keep him in the apartment.”

“I know, but Sophia? Really?”

“She’s not the only one that works there. And she’s a volunteer anyway. I’ll keep in touch with IO the whole time our lab is closed.”

“Well, good luck. Hope the poor thing is okay.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There was a silent lull for a few minutes. Madison tensely looked out the window while Jeremy drove without uttering a word. She brainstormed ways to break the awkward static before they arrived at their apartment.

“So you and Les spent some alone time together this morning then, huh?” She joked.

“Madison, please.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.”

Another awkward silence. So, he definitely didn’t think that was funny.

“Are you excited for the research-dinner party?” She asked.

“I suppose,” he answered, “It’ll be nice to update Leopold on what Leslie and I put together. I’d really like to get this preliminary stuff out of the way, and start testing our hypotheses.”

“I’m excited to see Leslie’s place!” She added, “She’s so organised, I bet it will be super clean and stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will be,” Jeremy said in a lighter tone, “What do you think you’ll do in the meantime before it’s time to leave?”

“Ehh… not sure. Maybe dick around online for a bit. I can only take so much of being aggressively average at chemistry before I decide to give it a rest and waste my time on the computer.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you know when it’s time to go,” Jeremy said as he pulled into their parking space outside of their apartment complex.

It didn’t take long for Jeremy to disappear into his room after they managed to make their way up the stairs and into their apartment. Madison entered her own room, slumped down into her bed and rested her body. She could feel her limbs get heavy as she stared up at her ceiling mobile decorated with different coloured leaves. She felt that adult mobiles were a far under-appreciated invention.

Despite the tense silences that happened in the car, she felt that her conversation with Jeremy ended on a definitively neutral tone, rather than a hostile one. She’d take neutral over that any day. The only thing left for her to do, that she could think of, was brush up on all board games that Leslie may have, so that she could wipe the floor with her, Jeremy and Leopold at the party.

Jeremy let his backpack plummet to the floor and settled onto his bed, facedown on the mattress. He laid still for a few minutes, simply letting the tension out of his limbs. It hadn’t occurred to him how stiff he was throughout the day. From working with Leslie, getting frustrated with GraviTime, having an altercation with Leslie, having numerous confusing altercations with Sophia, and then talking to Madison on the way home. Though thankfully, their last conversation didn’t seem as difficult as their previous ones.

He rolled over to the side of his bed to inspect the papers in his bag. There was a large folder that he had almost forgotten about. It was filled with lab reports from the 1 credit hour undergraduate physics lab course that he was a teaching assistant for. He was grateful that the university offered him a contract to TA one of the lab courses for money in addition to giving him a stipend. Renting his room in the apartment would have been difficult without the deal. Despite the variety of kids he saw in an introductory course, it was actually a refreshing way to spend his time. Grading needed to be finished by the 28th.

Before surrendering to the pull to the bed, Jeremy sluggishly ambled off of his bed and knelt down in front of his ant farm sitting on a small stand near his door. It looked like the microcosm might need some water soon. He wondered how ants were so structured and coordinated. As did everyone with an ant farm, he supposed. If these ants could thrive and build with only the limited resources provided in their space, then surely he and everyone else could function a few days without the lab. Maybe he would work on an idea for an alternate location to do work like Leslie did with her dinner party.

[March 26th, 2018, 14:40]

Leslie shambled up the last flight of stairs with various reusable grocery bags filling her hands and hanging off her body. She struggled down the hallway, huffing and contorting her body to keep the bags from tipping and spilling her dinner ingredients. At last, apartment 4 on the third floor. She beamed in relief, but the expression quickly faded. She needed to unlock the door. A faint sigh escaped as she shuffled her purse around until she could access it. With just a few seconds to spare, Leslie managed to unlock her door, get inside and drop half the bags down on her dining room table. Another moment, and there may have been a messy disaster. She relieved herself of the burden from the bags slung over her shoulders, and slumped down into one of the chairs at the dinning room table, rubbing her arms.

Looking about her apartment, she immediately began picking apart the things that needed to be fixed before her guests arrived. Too many objects on her coffee table in front of the couch, all surfaces needed dusting, dishes needed to be done, groceries to be put away. The list of things was never ending. Leslie was having difficulty with her living room for one major reason. Her television sat close to her front door; in front of it was her coffee table, and then the couch. And she had her matching ottoman off in the corner, because there was not enough room for everything. Her issue was that she spent very little time watching TV; and what if there was not enough room for everybody to sit after dinner? The TV might be in the way, or one of them could have to sit close to the door, and they might be uncomfortable with that. She could already feel the party was going to be a mess. She should just take that spot herself to circumnavigate any other disaster.

Leslie shook herself out of her ceaseless train of thought and switched on her ambient sound generator sitting on the bar that bordered the kitchen. She preferred to have some sort of noise while she was home, and music and TV were both too distracting. Would they think her sound generator was weird or uncomfortable without any other noise? Maybe she should play music for them. Her favourite soundscape came on and played sounds of ocean waves and a crackling fire. Tones like those swept her away into a peaceful future, lacking the constant stress and demand for work. She could float away for a moment or two. Maybe one day she could let go of it all. It could be her and Leopold sharing in the beauty as lifetime friends. Jeremy and Madison could come too if they wanted. She was sure that they would find a way to be content. Her cell phone suddenly blared its ringer. Leslie jumped right out of her daydream. She leapt back to the dining room table and scrambled for her phone. It rested between her ear and her shoulder as she hauled bags of groceries to the kitchen counter.

“Hi mom,” she said in her cheery voice, excited to talk. Conversation usually kept her worries at bay. She unpacked the bags and searched for the ingredients’ rightful places.

“Good afternoon, darling. How are you?” her mother responded with a warm and firm tone.

“Good! Just got back from the store with some food. I’m having a little get-together tonight, so I wanted to make a good meal for everyone. What do you need?” She asked, ready to help.

Mrs. Goodchild disregarded Leslie’s question by refusing to acknowledge it. A trace of grief was left in her tone, as she responded to her daughter.

“Oh, a get-together, huh?” she asked with hesitation, “That sounds like fun. What is the occasion?”

“It’s for work.”

“Oh. Well, good for you, sweetie. I’m sure Dr. Looney will be as big of a fan of your cooking as your father and I,” she said. Leslie pulled out the eggplants that she bought and set them off to the side on the counter.

“Aww, thanks mom. I’m glad you and dad liked it all so much. Thankfully the internet was passionate about making tutorials for so many dishes. It was a convenient hobby to have to hold down the fort for you two!”

The line went quiet and Leslie was perplexed. Her mother took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

“Yeah, Leslie, speaking of that…”

“Yes?”

“Well, since you mentioned it… I’ve been thinking a lot about the way your father and I have been for a while. Our financial situation. And I wanted— uh, is now an okay time to talk, by the way?”

“Yeah! Everything’s fine! I’m just cooking and cleaning, getting things ready for everyone later. I could use a bit of time away from the demands of science. What’s up?”

“I wanted to call and say that I’m sorry that we're still relying on you. I was thinking about how we still depend on you for things now, even though you moved out years ago. We shouldn’t have had to rely on you when you were just a little girl either, but we did. And I want to change that now. You were always a huge help to us both, and we we’re grateful for you stepping up, and being responsible and such a good sport. We still are! I’m just sorry that nothing has really changed, even though I said it would. I thought of something that I hope will make it up to you?” she said with uncertainty.

“I know that you’re sorry, mom, don’t worry. We’ve already talked it over before! It’s really okay, though. It was tough, and maybe I could have been doing other things in my spare time as a kid, but it was useful to me! Cooking and working aren’t such bad things. I like them enough to throw a party for my coworkers! And my house is always really clean because that’s what I did back home. It worked out for everyone!”

Milk in the fridge. Sauce in the fridge. Noodles go… they could go next to the eggplants.

Her mother sighed, and there was a moment of silence on the line.

“I understand, but. I just meant to call and say that it wasn’t fair for you. And maybe you can pursue some of the things you missed out on, now that you’re older and have the time,” she suggested, “My idea, if you wanted, is that you could move back to our house for a while to relax and not stress so much. We still have your room ready, and you wouldn’t be paying for rent in two different places, anymore…”

“It would be easier, but I do really like being out here, mom! I’m close to work and there’s more happening in the city. I’m happy to help you out!”

Bags get folded and placed in the cabinet furtherest from the dining room.

“Okay,” Mrs. Goodchild whispered, “Is there anything that dad or I could do for you?”

“No, I don’t think so!” Leslie said, absent-mindedly, “Is there anything I can do for you guys?”

“No, honey, thank you. You’ve done plenty for us.”

“Did you guys get my money transfer yet?” Leslie moved the conversation onward. She heard her mother shuffle some papers around and exhale.

“Yes, it’s right here. It’s a lot. You’re sure you won’t need at least some of this? It’s more than just the rent.”

“No, I’ll be fine! You guys need to fix one of the cars, right? You can put the rest towards that!”

“Your dad and I can handle those payments ourselves, Leslie.”

“Well, now you can handle them better! You’ll pay off the services faster.”

“Thank you, hun, that’s very sweet of you.”

“How has dad been?”

“Oh, you know your father. Still driving trucks for long hours. We’re hoping he gets a promotion soon, but… we’re not too sure. Time will tell, I suppose.”

“And you?” Leslie prodded.

“The restaurant hasn’t been getting as many customers as it did when we opened last year. I’ve been thinking about making a change, if things don’t look up soon.”

Leslie found the ground beef sitting out on the counter, and stuffed it in her fridge before she forgot again. She couldn’t remember how it got there.

“I’m sorry to hear that, mom. I hope things look up soon.”

“I hope so, too,” she said quietly.

“Maybe, to take your minds off of it, you can both make a trip out here and we’ll all spend the day together!” Leslie suggested with enthusiasm.

“That would be wonderful. Your father would be excited to do that.”

“Good! We should plan that soon!”

“Yes, we should. In the meantime though, I’ve got to start getting ready for work, okay?”

“Okay!”

“It was nice to hear your voice again, honey. Have fun with dinner and everyone tonight, and be sure to say hi and thank you again to Dr. Looney for all of his help.”

“I will! I always do,” she said with a sunny smile, “It was nice to talk to you too, mom. Have a good day at work, and I can’t wait to see you two again. Don’t worry too much about me!”

Mrs. Goodchild let out a breathy laugh.

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart. Don’t work too hard.”

“Impossible!” Leslie joked.

“Talk soon, darling. I love you.”

“I love you too! Bye-bye!”

Click.

Leslie leaned against the counter with a smile. She loved hearing from her parents. Especially her mom because she was always looking out for her. It was probably where Leslie got her consistently concerned disposition, too. Although, her mother is concerned with a serious undertone. The cheeriness likely came from her father, ultimately to form Leslie’s core expressions. Cheerful, concerned and eager to help. She chuckled as she thought about what an odd combination of traits that was to exhibit in someone. She wondered if anybody was ever perplexed at her demeanour. It wouldn’t surprise her. Leslie’s smile faded away as she kept her mother in her thoughts. It was flattering to be so concerned with Leslie’s wellness, but sometimes, she wished that her mom could relax about it. The hardest part for her was that she could do nothing to change her mother.

Leslie put her thoughts to rest again and distracted herself with the housework. If the house-party was going to be a success, she would have to hurry. The seating arrangement problem had been solved, but everything still needed to be dusted, and all clutter had to be organised and tidied. Disinfecting all surfaces would be a plus, although her time could run out before that happened. She scurried down the one hallway in her apartment that led past her bathroom, bedroom, and finally terminated at a small storage closet housing her cleaning supplies. Quickly, she delved into the tiny room dragging out a vacuum, a duster, and a spray bottle of disinfectant. The vacuum slipped away from her and swung the floor in her haste. Before she bent to pick it back up, a peculiar colour caught her eye. Something orange stuck to the door facing the inside of the closet. A post-it note. Leslie furrowed her brow and slowly picked it off the door.

“Relax and slow down. Try classical. Remember to have fun!”

The handwriting was awfully… chicken-scratchy. She wondered how long it had been in there. Maybe she’d been a little too focused on work and her parents lately to remember. Her apartment did need a decent cleaning up, so it could have been there for quite some time. There was certainly something vaguely familiar. Was it the colour? Or the placement? An involuntary sigh sheepishly escaped from her mouth. She should be able to keep track of her own house, she’s an adult. She escorted the note down the hall and into her room, which also needed cleaning. Maybe she’d just close the door before they arrived. If she ran short on time, of course. Leslie precariously hid the note away in her nightstand drawer and returned to her storage closet mess with a foggy mind.

“Classical what?” she asked aloud and glanced back to her bedroom door, as if there would be a response. She shrugged and dragged her cleaning supplies to the living room. The most efficient order of tasks would be… clutter, clean the surfaces, dirty dishes, vacuum, then cooking. And closing her bedroom door. Cooking was the most important, because it is not a dinner party without dinner. Her computer and notes needed to be easily accessible, too. It wasn’t a research dinner party without the research.

The top priority was supposed to be work, after all. Briefing Leopold on the progress that she and Jeremy made that morning. She wondered if Jeremy felt comfortable coming to her house. Partly because of the end of their last personal conversation, and partly because he seemed slightly uncomfortable with everything in general. She chuckled to herself. Hopefully everything would go well. Leslie resolved to simply make the most of the night to the best of her ability. Cooking, cleaning, research, activities, whatever got done would get done.

As long as the four of them were happy, she could consider the party a good one.

[03–26–2018; 18:12_Research_Video_Log_002_START]

“Doo doo-doo doo-dooooooo,” Madison sang and pranced behind Jeremy on the way to their car. Their apartment complex’s parking lot was decently packed, and the sky was a deep blue. The sun would be setting in about thirty minutes. Jeremy looked back at her.

“What are you doing?”

“I feel like you guys should be taking advantage of this camcorder by doing more science vlogs.”

“They’re research video logs,” he said.

“Yeah, same thing, nerd. You guys could be on YouTube!”

“Madison, we’re a theoretical physics laboratory, not a make-up tutorial channel.”

Her jaw dropped in surprise, she averted her eyes and her cheeks warmed up. “How did you know I watched those…” she asked quietly.

“I didn’t, it was just an example,” he said and shrugged as he climbed into the driver seat of their car.

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair!” Madison exclaimed, following his motions into the passenger side.

“You brought it on yourself.”

“And you brought this on yourself,” she laughed and zoomed the camera up on Jeremy’s face so that it covered the whole viewing window.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I can’t control it.”

“Yes, you can,” he replied tiredly as he started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot, “You do know that you’re wasting a lot of memory, right?”

“That’s what happens when you make a time travel documentary, Jeremy!”

“It’s not a time travel documentary. It’s supposed to be for recording our experiments and results.”

“A documentary is way cooler, though.”

“Okay, just… if you transfer that footage to your computer fast enough that running out of memory won’t be a problem in the lab, then you can make your time travel documentary.”

“YES,” she yelled, “You mean our documentary.

Jeremy sighed and groaned while coming to the first red light of the drive. “If I say yes, will you please just stop.”

“Okay, alright, fine, sorry,” she mocked, “…Can I interview you for the documentary?”

“I don’t promise accurate answers to ridiculous questions.”

Green light.

“So, mister, doctor Jeremy—”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“––what is your favourite thing about your amazing, one-of-a-kind sister?”

“How much she talks.”

“Really?!” she said with a laugh.

“No.”

“Oh,” she dismissed, “That’s lame!”

Jeremy kept his eyes on the road.

“Okay, how about this. What do you think Leslie is going to make for dinner?”

Jeremy furrowed his brow while he was thinking.

“Huh. I don’t know… maybe a family kind of dinner.”

“What? What even is that?” Madison asked.

He shrugged.

“I don’t know. Something families eat.”

“Wow, what an oddly vague and cryptic answer! As if family dinner food is somehow fundamentally different from everyone else's!”

“Whatever, Madison. I’m driving."

“Thank you for being here today mister, professor Jeremy—”

“Also not a professor.”

“—do you have any final words for the audience?”

“Not particularly,” he said.

“A man of few words, but eloquent, nonetheless.”

“Hey, look at the directions and tell me if that’s her apartment building,” Jeremy instructed, “I think it might be, but I want to be sure.”

“Oh, okay sure,” Madison said, as she distractedly pointed the view of the camera towards her lap to look at her phone.

[03–26–2018; 18:24_Research_Video_Log_002_END]

#do you have the time?#episode 007 #leslie #jeremy #madison #IO #sophia #writer #writer on tumblr #time travel #science fiction

4 notes · View notes

schtroumpf-a-lunettes · 6 years

Text

Chapter 12: The Rise and Fall of Scaredy Smurf

Read this chapter on: ff.net | AO3 | this post

Previous Chapters: Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11

A small chunk of this turned into straight-up meta which I didn’t rly intend on (but if it fits...!). Also this chapter is like, over 3000 words...

In the “past”…

The nightmares were fading. Soon they would be gone.

When they fight, they fight over him.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Yet the same few smurfs remained staunchly opposed to him despite the enhanced protection of the village they were able to enjoy, thanks to him.

There was something about having smurfs argue so passionately over your ideas.

Everything he said mattered, and every smurf listened to him whether they supported what he was saying or not. Because he had influence.

In spite of everything, he was still the same Scaredy Smurf, and whenever things tended to get intense between smurfs in the village, he was nowhere to be seen. There’d be arguments over him and his ideas, and he would slink away and hide. Sometimes peeking out tentatively from the shadows, always shaking.

But having a well-established group of supporters was not without its perks, he had to admit.

Perhaps… perhaps he was not entirely still the same Scaredy Smurf. He was getting better. Yes, he still much preferred to stay far away from conflict if he could help it. But if ever faced with one of the smurfs who couldn’t see how much disaster he was helping to steer the village clear from, the presence of his supportive group could give him the strength and resolve he needed to stand firm.

When he was shaking… it wasn’t always out of fear these days.

But above all this, there was one important thing that stood out to Scaredy: his nightmares were finally fading. And for the first time in a long time, he was feeling… relief. He could… relax a little more.

He wasn’t scared of falling asleep anymore, didn’t dread lying down in his bed to close his eyes, wasn’t fearful of what visions were awaiting him.

He had promised the smurfs a safer village, and enemies who would be deterred – and he had delivered.

But they were still feeling lost. They all were, Scaredy no less so. Given everything, all the smurfs that were gone, the village without a leader, how could they not be? Yet somehow, he was the one being projected onto by the others – propelled onto a platform not entirely of his own choosing, and when it came to making decisions…

Scaredy had set out to do one thing only: to prevent his nightmares from becoming a reality, avoid disaster, protect the village from the outside world. And it was a goal that captured the minds and imaginations of most of the village, swept up in it all, Scaredy’s single-minded fixation on it enveloping them too. It gave everyone something else to focus on, an end point to work towards, instead of dwelling…

His fellow smurfs leaned on him, and Scaredy put much of his ideas into practice. Then they leaned on him some more.

Did he notice the way that they’d been looking at him lately? His supporters, they stacked the pedestal beneath Scaredy’s feet ever higher, and it wobbled precariously, perilously.

And just like the pedestal they beheld, the smurfs at the base propping it up, too, could easily splinter.

Uniting around a common cause is a temporary fix. It alone cannot sustain a stable society.

There were the few smurfs who disagreed with Scaredy’s ways, and they were often unpopular because of it. But this did not mean that everyone rallying behind Scaredy lived in complete harmony.

While still working through loss, grief, trying to function, and emerging from those dark places, it was not possible to always be about smiles and cheer and to keep up standard smurfy, friendly ways. Patience regularly ran short, smurfs sometimes reached to inject more goodness into their attitudes and found none, all their energy having been invested elsewhere, needing more time for it to replenish.

Everyone could see it, could sense the fragility of their very existence and way of life, threatening to disintegrate under the stress, the lack of goodwill continuing to bind them. They needed to all work together more than ever, but under the circumstances it wasn’t so easy. Was there a way to make things better?

Things could be better than this. They used to be better than this.

It happened in the middle of a conversation. Scaredy had just given some of his helpers instructions – business as usual.

“Scaredy, you always seem to know what to do, or have an idea… You’re decisive when it really matters.” After delivering this praise, Timber continued on casually. “The others and I have been talking. We think you could make a good leader. You know… of the village.”

“Wh-what! M-m-m-m-me?!” Scaredy was so stunned he could barely get the words out. “N-no, I-I could n-n-n-never…!” There was no way! He was quite happy with staying firmly out of that role, thank-you-very-much. It was hard enough receiving the amount of attention and sometimes scrutiny he currently did – he didn’t want to be pushed even further into the spotlight. Leader? He couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure that would involve – it was unfathomable. Definitely not.

“No need to be modest-“

“No, really, I- no.”

“Oh, come on. You’re already the main smurf who smurfs decisions. And just look at how you’ve been able to organise smurfs so far. You’re practically already the leader.”

“For village defences, sure! But being responsible for everything in the village?” Scaredy shook his head, teeth chattering at the very thought.

“I think you could pick up the role well enough. Have a little faith in yourself – like we do!” Reporter prodded him.

Scaredy didn’t reply, only shook his head vehemently. The smurfs gathered around him stared at him imploringly. Desperately. What was the meaning of this?

Tracker sighed from within the group when still no response was forthcoming, his expression completely serious. “Scaredy, we – need – someone. We need someone. We can’t keep going on like this forever. Living out this limbo – it’s too much. The constant balancing acts… It’s not how things are supposed to be. It’s not how things – were. And you… You’re the one we’ve been looking up to all this time, looking to for instruction. So who better to lead us?”

“Like Timber said earlier, you’re practically already the leader. It would just be making it official. We need someone like you to guide us, to smurf the decisions, to help keep us on track and working together and smurfy…!”

Scaredy grimaced, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the desperation he could hear in Reporter’s voice.

“A-and being an official leader makes it a lot easier to manage those things. The village would run so much smoother, you know?” Reporter finished, calming his voice down somewhat so that it was less high-strung.

“Y-You know that I-“ Scaredy fought hard to keep his eyes dry, his voice strained. “No one could ever compare t-to Papa! Not me! You can’t expect me to-“

Immediately, they realised what Scaredy was saying, and suddenly expressions were very sombre and they were all rushing to reassure him.

“No, no, no, of course not! No, Scaredy, we didn’t mean like that!”

A few moments of many smurfs talking at once, all similar words and reassuring him.

Timber reiterated what they’d meant once the voices of the others died down. “Of course we know that no one could ever be just like Papa Smurf was. We would never ask for, or expect anything like that! I’m really sorry if that’s what it sounded like. Each leader is different and has their own style. We’re saying it would be a lot better for the village if we had a leader, and we think you’re the best smurf for the job. We’re just asking you to be you to lead us.”

Scaredy lapsed into silence, mulling it all over. The best smurf for the job? Somehow he doubted that. And yet, that’s what the smurfs before him were claiming. He didn’t know how he could smurf that level of pressure. But if it would be good for the village… And really, if they needed this…

“Scaredy Smurf, leader of the smurf village… Scaredy Smurf, leader of the smurf village…” he tested out the words softly to himself. They sounded absurd. Maybe the others could all finally start calling him by a different name. Or maybe he could get used to it.

…He was getting ahead of himself.

“I’ll…” he looked away. “I’ll think about it” he said, and the others all beamed.

The more Scaredy thought about it, the more it dawned on him what really appeared to be going on.

“We need someone like you to guide us, to smurf the decisions, to help keep us on track and working together and smurfy…!”

It wasn’t about how good of a leader Scaredy could be. They were simply yearning for someone who could step in and just make decisions for them so that they didn’t have to think about or stress over them. Since being left without a well-defined authority figure, decisions and plans needed to be made as a village and it was much more burdensome. With all their suffering and bickering and lack of experience, sometimes hardly anything got done as a result. It was often exhausting and time-consuming and merely amounted to more things to deal with on top of everything else.

Whatever Scaredy said in such situations, his supporters would all usually start agreeing with him until that was what was decided upon, and that’s a key reason why he held such sway in the village. They’ve already been doing it, Scaredy realised. They’ve already been signing off and allowing me to do their thinking for them, to save them the trouble. Now they just wanted to make it more official and all-encompassing. Sometimes Scaredy didn’t have an opinion or anything to contribute on a particular issue and the others needed to hash it out – as the leader he wouldn’t have much choice.

Old habits smurf hard, and they wanted to return to – wanted to stick to what was more familiar to them. In this case, it was having a leader who would take care of mostly everything. It was true that they didn’t expect anyone who could compare to Papa Smurf. They knew that wasn’t possible. But what they did want to fall back on, to cling to for solace and something to help get them through, was a leader to look up to.

Scaredy would become – already was – a symbol. Permission for them to relax and just focus on their own individual lives and tasks. A symbol that would allow them to feel safer.

It just so happened that Scaredy, starting all that time ago, had had strong opinions about protecting the village and how to go about it. He’d been determined and outspoken on the matter, and what smurfs saw was someone decisive and taking action. But it wasn’t really about him specifically, was it? It’s just how things turned out. It could easily be some other smurf in his place right now. They would have just found someone else to latch onto.

Following the proposal that Scaredy become leader, his followers treated him better than ever and showered him with encouragement. He was all smiles to them, politely saying he was still thinking it over. And when he wasn’t there with them, he could see how they watched him and eagerly talked among themselves. It looked like they all really thought he was going to agree and take them up on their offer.

And he supposed he was tempted.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the amount of influence he had, the way everyone would listen to him. And sometimes, he’d gotten too carried away… Times where he smurfed too close to the sun.

But these days he was sleeping so much better, no longer hindered by nightmares, finally free. He enjoyed his current status, and he didn’t want more. He’d be smurfing off more than he could chew.

And there was something a little off about it all. They were deluding themselves if they thought making him their leader would make all their problems go away. But he did recognise what they were saying and that they couldn’t go on like this as a village forever. They didn’t need to make him their leader to fix things, though. There were better ways. Now that he was more well-rested and with a clearer mind, no longer needing to focus so much on fending off enemies now that a formidable reputation had been established for the village, he could start using his influence in different ways to make life within the village better. He didn’t need to be leader to do that. He could work towards solving the other issues that faced them.

Yes, he had made up his mind, he was going to go and let all his followers know his decision right now not to become a leader of any kind. They may be disappointed, but they’d soon learn it was for the best.

A smile lighting up his features, humming the smurf song, he confidently walked out his front door –

- and ran straight into Farmer, Tailor and Harmony. He’d been soaring, truly soaring, but now it was time to plummet.

“Hello, Scaredy” Farmer said coldly. Scaredy was backed into his home, his front door slamming shut. Scaredy instantly started freezing up at the death stares they were all giving him.

“Who do you smurf you are?” Harmony spat.

Scaredy stared back, eyes wide, speechless.

“Who do you smurf you are?!”

“Wh- a-“

“Who the smurf do you think you are?! Think you’re Papa Smurf? Think you’re better than Papa Smurf, huh?”

“Nn-No…!”

“So how does it feel, thinking you’re better than all of us? Above us all? What’s it like?” Tailor murmured.

“I-I don’t- unders-stand-“

Tailor’s voice instantly grew harsher. “Don’t play dumb. We overheard from the others what you’ve been planning. Word is the smurfs are going to have a new leader, hmm? Isn’t that right?”

“We happened to hear about your nasty little scheme! Got everysmurf wrapped around your smurfy little blue finger, don’t you?” Farmer paused and they all continued to glare.

“Didn’t realise you wanted to increase the stranglehold you already have over this village. The control you already have… wasn’t even enough for you without you plotting for a full takeover. I’ve got to say, I’m… surprised. I’ve known you my whole life and, I didn’t think my opinion of you could sink lower than it already has these past few years.” Farmer and Harmony nodded in agreement at Tailor’s words.

“No… no, you’ve – got it – wrong” Scaredy forced out the words, no choice but to lean against his chair for support. His breathing was starting to feel very constricted, being cornered like this.

“Got it wrong?” Harmony stepped closer. “Don’t insult me” he hissed.

“I n-never-“

“Shut up. You’ve been talking nonsense for so many years, now you’re going to listen.”

Scaredy cast his eyes about weakly. Why hadn’t anysmurf taken notice and come to see what was going on? Without his followers by his side to make him feel strong, he could barely stand. He would try calling for help, but frozen in place as he was, he doubted he could make his voice loud enough. “W-Where-“

“…is everyone?” Tailor laughed bitterly. “Always talking so big when you’re not alone. But we’re not stupid. We know you’d just have us hauled off or something if your supporters were here. But the others, including the cult of Scaredy, are off playing smurfball right now.”

Harmony again. “So tell us, when did you decide that you’re better than Papa Smurf? What was it that made you completely abandon your sense of decency and respect, made you think you could just play around at taking his place?”

“I didn’t-“

“How dare you even think you’re anything close to the great smurf he was.”

Farmer spoke up. “Yeah, I’m sure you’d make a great leader, Scaredy” with a great kick, a nearby table went crashing to the ground, its contents scattering everywhere. “How much time would it be before we’d start launching attacks pre-emptively in the name of “defence” and “protection” for the village?”

He stepped closer. “Thanks for being SUCH a role model for Slouchy and Nat, too, by the way! Glad they haven’t smurfed out anything like you so far. But I’m sure you’d want to change that, huh?”

“Please…” Scaredy whimpered, sliding down the back of his chair weakly to the floor.

“Yes, because you’re so merciful” Farmer snarled. He reached out above Scaredy and grabbed hold of the chair, Scaredy flinching at the motion. “Remember when…”

“What the hell did you do?” Dabbler yelled, “What the hell did you do now? He’s just a kid, for smurf’s sake! Scruple, I’m so sorry, I’ll fix you up.”

“… when Scruple got hurt? Remember how much he cried?”

“That was a mistake!” Scaredy said immediately, somehow briefly finding his voice again. “A-a-a-and I’ve already said as much…! He got in the way at the last second, i-it was G-Gargamel that was s-supposed-“

The chair now, toppling over with a heavy thud from behind Scaredy. Scaredy sat, cowering.

“We wonder about that. Wonder how many more mistakes you plan on making. Well, we’re not going to wait around and see.”

He only speaks the language of fear, Farmer thought to himself. It’s the only way to stop him from dragging Smurf Village down even further into darkness.

“We’re not going to risk it. We’re never going to give you the chance to make more “mistakes” again. So I suggest you keep to yourself from now on… or we WILL be back to chat with you again.”

He’s used the same fear that controls him to infect and control others. We’ll use fear to control him, make him stop.

His front door opening, then slamming shut. The only real indication they were gone, as Scaredy’s eyes were shut tight. He curled up there on the ground, the possessions from his table still strewn about the room.

He’d guarded so strongly against outside threats and enemies. He’d been so afraid of just about anyone and anything outside the village… He hadn’t realised he also needed to guard himself against, and fear his fellow smurfs.

#Hi! I kinda hate myself for writing this rn!#smurfs #the smurfs #Scaredy Smurf #my fic

7 notes · View notes