pjarcanjo

[n00talie]

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Nine

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Sam, Steve

Warnings: gun-related violence (this is the primary theme so please be cautious), language, reference to smut

Summary: With reader back to work in the Tower, new threats arise and new approaches are taken to her safety. Kind of a filler but also kind of important.

Author’s Note: The next part is gonna be a 0 to 100 chapter so please hold while I hammer that out. I usually try to add multiple scenes/days/events but this is just one situation the reader is caught in. It’ll be getting to the primary climax soon though so I’m thinking maybe 3-4 parts left? Unless there’s more drama I want to add later 😈 And as always, feel free to send me a coffee!

Series Masterlist

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed

The next few weeks were thankfully uneventful. You had ordered a bed for Steve to put in the living room, including a curtain so he could have a little privacy, especially when Sam woke up extra early to start making breakfast. Bucky kept the inflatable mattress on your floor, but spent every night with you in his arms instead. “It’s safer this way,” he’d say. It was his excuse just in case your dad ever showed up unannounced.

The one time your dad did show up unannounced, Steve and Sam were at your front door with their weapons drawn and Bucky was shirtless in your bedroom doorway with his own gun aimed at your father. Fortunately, none of them were trigger-happy and lowered their weapons when they realized who it was.

Your dad learned three things that day:

1. He needed to call ahead if he planned on stopping by.

2. You were in very good hands in the safety of your apartment.

3. He wasn’t a fan of seeing a shirtless Winter Soldier leaving your bedroom — or seeing a shirtless Falcon and Captain America in your living room, for that matter.

Regardless, you were never worried about your safety when you were home, or even when the boys let you go out and about with them flanking you on every side. Needless to say, you didn’t go out much.

But you were able to go back to work at the Tower, mainly because the boys hadn’t been able to properly train or attend any missions while you were holed up at home — and it looked like things were clearing up around you. Your dad said one of them would have to stay with you even if the other two went on missions and had fortunately let you choose who that one lonely man would be. Not that you’d ever let Bucky actually be lonely.

The media buzz over you had died pretty quickly, but there were still a few relentless reporters that would crowd around you when you left Stark Tower. You always parked under the building where none of them could get in, but that didn’t stop you from going out to get lunch instead of staying inside and having it delivered. The weather was getting warmer and you wanted to get out while you could.

One gloomy Thursday, your dad decided to join you, Bucky, Sam, and Steve when you went out for your lunch. There was a falafel place just down the street that you liked, so the five of you decided to make it a group date, of sorts. Bucky was nervous at first, but you assured him it would all be fine.

“If you get a little cozy, just blame it on staying close so no one else can,” you said, holding his jaw in your hands. “You’re just keeping me safe.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead as you stood in the middle of your lab. You weren’t required to have protection while inside the Tower, but Bucky insisted on visiting when his training hours were over.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he said softly. He pulled your hands from his cheeks and kissed your knuckles before tugging you out of the lab to meet the rest of your lunch crew at the elevators.

Now that everyone knew who you were, you were able to be more playful and casual around your dad. Things that would usually have earned you some questioning stares from your work friends instead led to laughs and high-fives. You could make jokes and digs without getting in the same kind of trouble as Sam or Bucky. Steve still had the most immunity.

That was one of those days. You and Steve poking fun at Tony and making playful jokes he was quick to quip back at. The five of you were alone in the elevator the whole trip down, probably because Tony had Friday set to not allow anyone else in when he was in the lift.

Everyone was all smiles and laughs until the elevator doors opened. You took about three steps before you were practically tackled to the ground, a loud bang followed by the sharp ding of metal on metal stunning you more than the pressure of a body pressing against yours. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, the plaster of the wall above you shattered and crumbled around you at the sound of another loud bang echoing in the Tower lobby. None of the debris actually hit you, probably because of the large, heavy body of your boyfriend curled over yours.

Since you were on your hands and knees, you turned just enough to see Bucky’s blue eyes blown wide as he looked down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

“I--I think so?” you replied, not entirely sure what you were supposed to be okay from. You hadn’t really processed what was happening, just that Bucky was completely covering you with his body. “Are you okay?”

He just nodded. “The bullet hit my arm, no damage.”

“The bullet?!” you half-screamed. “Is anyone hurt?” You pushed against his metal arm to see the rest of the lobby; everyone was crouched to the ground, and the sound of more bangs and dings of Tony’s suit getting hit told you why. Tony was just a couple feet from you, letting his Iron Man suit build around him, but started waving his hands at you, shouting “get her out of here!”

Bucky’s arms swooped under you and he swept you past the elevators and stairwell to a back room that only unlocked after Bucky scanned his hand in a hidden compartment. The door opened to a separate, smaller stairwell that you assume only led to the Avengers’ floors… 30 floors up.

“This way,” Bucky said, drawing your reluctant gaze from the towering steps to a hidden elevator behind the staircase. Thank god.

He quickly ushered you in and pressed the button for the private rooms. You’d never been above the common rooms, save for the one time you sat in Bucky’s room after surgery. Your eyes flicked to Bucky’s that were already trained on you looking for any injuries.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. His hands rested on your shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed as he scanned your face and body again and again.

You just nodded, still trying to process having literally been shot at. But the secret elevator was much faster than the main elevator because you arrived at Bucky’s floor seconds later. He grabbed your hand and led you to his room, keeping you close and constantly looking around even though only verified Avengers could access this floor.

“Your dad set up a whole plan in case something like this ever happened,” he explained. “We’re supposed to stay on this floor until one of them comes to get us. Chances are you’ll end up working from home again since you’re somehow safer there with us than here with everyone.”

He sounded annoyed, but you couldn’t blame him. You assumed you’d be safer in and around the Tower than in your apartment. Your apartment didn’t have all the gadgets and gizmos the Tower had. Sure, you had installed your own security system and now had constant video recording, but the Tower had Iron Man.

“Are you okay?” you asked again. Bucky looked up at you with his eyebrows drawn together, but nodded at your question. “Are… are dad, Steve, and Sam okay?”

It was harder for Bucky to answer that when he didn’t know. He silently pulled up the Tower video feed on his TV and found the main entrance. Tony already had the shooter face down on the ground with blasters aimed at him and an iron boot on his back; Steve and Sam were checking on bystanders. Knowing the rest of your little team was safe eased some of the tension in your body, but that just made it easier for you to realize you had nearly been shot.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said quietly. Bucky stepped closer to you, letting you wrap your arms around him as you forced back tears brought forward by the onslaught of fear that ran through you.

“I’ll always protect you, princess,” he said just as softly. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and just held you. It was just as important for him to hold you as it was for you to be held by him. While his embrace helped ground you and reminded you that you were okay, it reassured him that you were safe with him.

Bucky had grown so used to being the cause of people’s fear, not their source of comfort. You changed that.

You just stood there in each other’s arms for a while, needing the security to calm both of your nerves.

“Can we just… lie down?” you asked.

Bucky had never seen you this fragile before. He always saw you as his spunky little spitfire, so seeing you gradually crack and splinter as the seconds ticked by made his own heart break. Without a word, he led you over to his bed. He laid down first, letting you curl your legs over his abdomen and rest your head against his shoulder.

“I know you’re physically okay, but do you wanna talk about it?” Bucky asked softly.

You were quiet for a second, nervously playing with the hem of his t-shirt. It took a few minutes, but the gravity of what just happened ran over you like a freight engine and your mind wasn’t having a good time trying to get back on track.

“How many shots were fired?” you finally asked.

That’s not what he wanted you to ask.

“I counted five before we got out.”

The pause before your answer just made Bucky’s nerves even more frazzled. He wasn’t used to consoling anyone. That was Sam’s specialty, not his.

“Someone tried to shoot me five times,” you said solemnly. “Someone tried to… to kill me five times.”

“Hey, no,” Bucky hushed. “We’re not doing that. When I said I’ll always keep you safe, I meant it. I can’t lose my Build-A-Bear. Those things are expensive,” he teased.

You huffed a soft laugh before snuggling your head against his chest. With his right arm wrapped around you to trace his fingertips across your skin and his left hand hooked over your calves, it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. The stress of what appeared to be an attempted assassination didn’t sit lightly on your shoulders.

Bucky managed to stay awake, slowly and carefully grabbing his remote to find something to watch until he received word to let you go.

Nearly three hours later — after Steve, Sam, and Tony had spoken with the police and tried to get some info out of the shooter — all three came barreling into Bucky’s room, quickly silenced by the sight of you sleeping on Bucky. You had adjusted your position in your sleep, slipping your body between Bucky’s legs and resting your head on his abdomen. This left him to play with your hair since you were too low for him to continue to hold. He knew you’d have one hell of a time getting to sleep later that night and probably hold your messed up sleep schedule against him until you got back on track, but he wasn’t going to wake you up.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, more curiously than accusingly.

“Uh, she seemed pretty, um, unsettled by the whole thing and just wanted me to, to hold her,” he explained quietly and slowly, attempting to avoid revealing anything.

Tony just nodded in understanding.

“When she wakes up, I want you to find me.”

The way he said it didn’t sound upset or threatening, but Bucky felt ice shoot up his spine at your dad wanting to sit down with him — and only him. Nonetheless, he nodded as everyone left the room.

When you woke up not long after, he made sure you were okay before leaving to “talk things over with the guys,” he said.

Tony was waiting for Bucky in one of the conference rooms. He didn’t have anything with him other than his phone, so Bucky figured he wasn’t in any trouble… but that just confused him more.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fire you for… cuddling with my daughter,” Tony said with a cringe. “Take a seat, please.”

Bucky hesitantly sat across from Tony, clearly still worried about what was going on. Tony’s silence was unnerving.

“[Y/N] is going back to her place full time. I’m sure you already figured that out. You three musketeers are clearly better at keeping her safe than I am. And before I continue, I need to say that Sam’s a good guy — most of the time — and Steve’s… something, usually something good, even though he loves getting on my nerves. But today, you were the first line of defense. Don’t think I missed the sound of that first shot hitting you. If you had been on the other side of her, you’d be in medbay right now having a bullet fished out of your arm.”

Tony paused again. He spun his phone in his hands, clearly working up to something and unknowingly setting Bucky on high alert. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Steve and Sam are going to stay with her at her place, of course, but I don’t want you to leave her side,” Tony finally continued. “If she goes into the kitchen for breakfast, you’re in the kitchen getting breakfast. If she goes to the bathroom, you’re right outside the door. That mattress stays right next to her bed. When she wants to order food, you send one of the other guys and stay with her. Bucky.” Tony paused once again. He leaned forward now just to make sure the severity of what he was about to say was fully understood. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew it was the right decision. “I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life. I don’t take this shit lightly and as much as I want to dislike you… you’re the person I trust the most right now.”

Bucky couldn’t describe the emotions running through his brain. Confidence? Joy? Maybe even fear? Sure, it was nice that his boss was giving him such a huge responsibility, but it was something entirely different to hear his girlfriend’s dad say that he trusted him. Wasn’t that part of why you weren’t telling Tony? Would this change things? Could you finally be open with your relationship?

“Thank you, Tony. That really means a lot. Uh, I-I won’t let you down,” Bucky managed to squeak out.

Tony just nodded before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leaving the room. Bucky sat alone in silence for a second to fully process everything. Was it ironic? Tony Stark was trusting the man who killed his parents to now protect his daughter. But wasn’t it already fucked up that Howard and Maria’s granddaughter was knowingly and willingly dating their killer?

Bucky had gone through a lot to come to terms with his past, but moments like this cast doubt on him again. But he couldn’t dwell on it. He had to find you, Sam, and Steve to get you home.

When he got back to his room, he found all three of you sitting on his bed and talking. You were still lying against the headboard with Steve sitting criss-cross applesauce and Sam lying on his stomach. You looked like a group of high schoolers at a sleepover.

“Hey,” he said softly. You smiled and made grabby-hands at him until he sat beside you.

“Slight change of plans.”

Everyone looked at him in confusion, Sam and Steve clearly not up to date on the team’s roles.

“I just sat down with Tony and, uh, I guess I’m basically your bodyguard now.”

“You already have been for a month now,” you said with a confused laugh.

“Well, yeah, but your dad said I’m not supposed to leave your side. Like, if you move to another room, I move with you.” Your eyes widened at this. It felt excessive, to say the least. You were basically already attached at the hip, but sometimes you just need a minute to be alone. “He said I’m the one he trusts most to protect you.”

“Come on, man, you could’ve just told me to go fuck myself,” Sam joked, earning a punch to the shoulder from Steve.

“Aw, you finally got parental approval,” you cooed, cupping his jaw in your hands.

“I don’t think the approval extends to me hitting it from the back until you pass out,” Bucky chuckled. Sam whistled lowly while Steve just shook his head in disappointment (approval?).

“Speaking of hitting it from the back, we should probably get back to my place before it’s too dark,” you said.

A light knock on your door drew everyone’s attention but before you could see who it was, you toppled over at the force of Bucky shoving your body behind his. You managed to catch yourself on his shoulders to lift yourself up, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck with your head perched on his shoulder. It was admittedly very couple-y, but your dad seemed unfazed in your doorway.

“Hey pops,” you chirped.

“I see I made a good decision,” he said, noting how quickly Bucky hid you from what could’ve been a potential threat. “By the way, Barnes is in charge of this operation now. Sorry Cap.” Steve just held his hands up in surrender. You figured he didn’t mind handing the reins over for once.

“We were just about to head out,” Bucky said. You’d have to make sure this newfound power didn’t go to his head. Which just meant you’d have to get him on his knees…

“I just wanted to give you this.” He held out what looked like the remote scanner cashiers had in checkout lanes. “I know [Y/N] has been getting a lot of fan mail so this will scan up to 20 items at a time for hazardous devices, poisonous toxins, and anything else that’s potentially harmful.”

You hadn’t gone through your mail in at least a week, but you’d already gotten the green light to have the next day — a Friday, thankfully — off after what happened, so you and the boys could hammer through everything and clear off your dining room table.

“Thanks, dad.”

You hopped off the bed and wrapped your dad in a much-needed hug. You both needed one after the stress of the day gradually wore off, but you could tell he needed one even more. You had Bucky to run to; Tony was worried about you. He held you tight and gently scratched right below your neck, just like he would do to get you to fall asleep as a baby. Some things never change.

“I love you,” you said quietly.

“I love you too, pumpkin,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. After another moment, you pulled apart and he went right back into business mode. “Okay, Rhodey and I are gonna follow you guys home in the suits just in case anything happens. Barnes, you’re in the backseat with [Y/N].”

With your dad standing behind you, he couldn’t see you mouth “backseat” to Bucky with a wink. The super soldier’s cheeks turned light pink, but so did Steve’s, which made it hard for you to keep from laughing as your dad continued discussing what changes would be made for your safety.

•

When you finally — safely — got home, you just wanted to take a bath and go to bed. You hadn’t even had supper, but you almost didn’t want to eat anything. If it hadn’t been for Bucky bringing you stuffed peppers courtesy of Sam, you probably wouldn’t have eaten. But he ate his dinner beside you on your bed, then joined you for a long, hot, bubbly bath.

Both of you knew it needed to be a slow night without saying a word. Bucky’s hands lazily ran over your skin before chasing the rinse of water with his lips. He wasn’t rushed or aggressive; he took his time and savored being with you. Even when you were lying in bed and desperately grabbing at his arms, back, shoulders, everything, his strokes were sensual and deliberate. His body acted as a fortress over yours, keeping you guarded from the rest of the world, even if it was just in your bedroom.

And as you fell asleep in his arms that night, he promised himself he would get to the bottom of your attack whether the law wanted him to or not.

[americasass81]

Love In The Wild

Warnings:- Fluff, M & F Smut (nothing too graphic), Very, very, very Mild Stalker Behavior, Mild Coarse Language, Teasing, Kinda Friends to Enemies to Lovers. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. All mistakes are my own. Feedback and reblogs are welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairing:- softish!Brock Rumlow x Named Female Character

Author’s Note 1:- Okay so this is once again a very special piece for @saiyanprincessswanie as she faces into yet another surgery. Good luck Missy and know that all our thoughts are with you. Hope this lifts your spirits and helps make you smile. {PS:- I also included a little Frank trivia in this but I’m not sure if anyone else will spot it}.

Author’s Note 2:- Thanks goes to @firefly-graphics​ for creating the included Floral Leaves divider. Please go check out Daisy’s work and pass on some love.

Author’s Note 3:- This is also my first time writing for a Named Character and I hope it works okay.

Synopsis:- Meeting a stranger in a place that holds a special place in your heart may be the key to unlocking your future happiness.

Word Count:- 5,378

Sitting out on the porch of the dining area as the morning sun shone its rays towards the ground and the early risers milled around the area, you wished you could wake up like this every morning. Nature was in full bloom all around and listening to the adults chatting while the odd child ran around enjoying their little freedom, you truly felt like you had come home. Finally feeling like yourself again, this trip was simply about reconnecting with nature and finding joy in the little things. Finishing up breakfast, you walked back through the lobby of the lodge and smiled as a small child skipped up to you and handed you some freshly picked wildflowers before running off back to her parents after you thanked her. Sniffing the flowers as you continued on back to your room, you remembered when you too held that child-like innocence and wondering where it went, you hoped that she at least would be someone who could hold onto hers.

Arriving at your room, you opened the door and stepping inside, placed the flowers in a glass of water before picking up the activity pamphlet and looking down the list of activities. Oakridge may have been a nature park, but that didn't stop it from having an impressive choice of activities for those that weren't exactly interested in the great outdoors. Deciding however that you would take advantage of the glorious morning and enjoy a hike along by the river flowing down from the mountains, you dressed accordingly, pulled out your hiking poles and headed off at a leisurely pace. Placing one foot in front of the other, the wind through the trees touched your soul and as you headed along the hiking trail you swore you could hear the voices of those that came before you reaching out across time and space to deliver the peace you had long since sought. Losing yourself in the wonder all around you, step by step your cares melted away as the sound of the nearby river and the local forest creatures reminded you why you were here in the first place.

Bending down to examine a rare plant, while taking a drink from your water bottle, it seemed that a higher power however had something else in mind for you when the sound of a branch snapping off to your right sharpened your senses and focused your attention firmly on your surroundings. Turning towards the sound as a burly, gruff looking man appeared before you, you figured him to be yet another park visitor until he opened his mouth and you identified him as nothing more than an annoyance.

"Well, well, well cricket, imagine finding you out here. You lost? I thought for sure someone like you'd be holed up back at the lodge with a hot chocolate and a nice book." he quipped and all you wanted to do was reach up and slap him. As it was you instead simply ignored him and walked away in the hope he would get the message.

Hope was not to be your friend in this scenario however as he easily caught up to you and began to point out all the ways in which the surrounding woodland was too dangerous for a delicate thing such as yourself. Breathing in the cool crisp air as you ventured further up the hiking trail, you did your best to ignore this intruder into your peaceful activity, but this task proved impossible as his next statement reached your ears. Asking if it was even safe for you to be outdoors and if you could tell the difference between common woodland plants and poison ivy, you finally had enough and rounded on him. "Now listen here you annoying little insect," you spat as he simply stood there looking at you as if enjoying your reaction, "I'll have you know that as a landscape architect this fragile little thing is far more capable of being outdoors than the likes of you."

Looking you up and down however with a smirk you would later come to enjoy, he simply took a step closer and asked what exactly a landscape architect was. After relaying in detail what exactly it was your job entailed, you finally had enough when he voiced his opinion that no such job actually existed and you were nothing more than a gardener. Losing all patience with him and taking in your strategic location, you smiled a glorious smile before placing your hands against his chest and leaning closer towards his ear. "You know what dickface, maybe my work doesn't sound like a real job, but it does give me the strength to do this," and with one powerful push and a huge amount of luck, the stranger found himself sitting in the river as you laughed and walked away from him.

Gazing after your retreating form as the river continued to flow around him and a few more visitors neared his location, he removed himself from his current location and heading back towards the lodge decided that your fiery spirit was definitely something he had to find a way to explore. Finishing off your hike before heading back to your room to freshen up, you hoped the rest of your trip was free of that arrogant stranger while you figured out what to do with the rest of your day.

Stripping off and stepping into the shower in another part of the lodge, Missy's stranger thought back on how he had landed himself in this position. Sure he thought it funny at the time to sneak up on her having secretly loved her from afar over the years, but seeing it from her point of view it probably wasn't the smartest move. Still he had to admit that fire in her was something to behold and he couldn't wait to see what fun they could have together. For now he set aside his desires, dressed quickly and casually and headed to his truck for his weekly trip to the city to pick up the few essentials he couldn't live without. Driving along with his reliable radio blasting his favorite music, he tried to figure out how best to make it up to his precious girl and so, once reaching the city, his first stop was the flower shop to begin his campaign.

Walking into the bright airy premises, it always amazed Brock just how successful this place had become. Browsing until the last customer completed their business, he then headed over to the counter where the owner and his oldest friend stood waiting with her usual smile. Explaining to Samantha the predicament he had landed himself in, she told him it would have been wonderful to see before she finally took pity on him and made up a special arrangement of roses, lilies and tulips. Agreeing to call back for them on his way home, he paid the bill then headed off on his other business hoping that this gesture would help thaw his beautiful little cricket. Two hours later, having finished up all that he needed to do and collecting the flowers with a warning from Samantha not to screw things up, he drove back to the park somewhat more chipper now that he had parts of a plan in place. Parking in the employee car park, he took the flowers to the reception desk and asked Annie to place them in room 37. Then returning out to his truck to begin removing his purchases, he waited to see if his apology would be accepted.

Stepping out of the shower feeling totally invigorated after your wonderful hike and the glorious shower, you dried off, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and stepped out into the living area to be greeted by a beautiful bouquet of freshly cut flowers. Looking around the room and finding nothing disturbed, you went to the door and peeked out into the hall and not seeing anyone around, shut the door and headed back towards the coffee table. Looking at the arrangement before bending down to inhale their heavenly scents, your eye caught the card poking out between the flowers. Reaching out to pluck the card carefully from the vase, a mixture of emotions worked their way through your body as you read the words displayed before you.

Rummaging around in the recesses of your mind for any explanation for the words staring back at you, your hand dropped the card and you contemplated throwing the vase, flowers included, at something when your mind latched on to the early morning events. Not knowing how the stranger had found out your name or which room you were staying in, the sheer audacity of him to think that you should be sorry for dumping his smug ass in the river made your blood boil and erased the peace and pleasure of the morning's activities. Still as you tried to calm down and remember that you were here to enjoy yourself, you instead decided to throw away the card and pretend the beautiful flowers were simply part of the room's decor. Finally happy with your decision, you picked up the activities pamphlet once again and glancing through it decided that the afternoon art class might be just the thing to distract you from the arrogant stranger who twice now had intruded on your peaceful vacation. Heading off back down to the lobby, you stopped by the cafe for a brownie and a coffee before asking for directions to the art class. Being told how to get there by the polite guy behind the counter, you paid for your items, left a generous tip and headed off towards your next adventure.

Talking to Annie and discovering that the flowers had indeed been delivered to the correct room, Brock sat in his office trying to figure out what miscommunication had occurred this time round. Having watched you grow up and mature through the years as you visited the park, first with your parents and then sometimes on your own, he knew you to be a kind and thoughtful soul so he had to figure in the half day that you had been here you couldn't have that many people to apologize to.

Ringing through to reception, he inquired as to what the occupant of room 37 was up to, but when no one was able to shed any light on the matter, he figured he would simply have to allow the whims of fate to hopefully bring you back to his presence. Finding himself particularly frustrated at the events taking place around him with little to no control over them, he headed off to the lodge's gym to try and work off some of the tension making itself at home in his muscles. Of course he could use the equipment in his own quarters, but his parents had taught him that not only should he know how everything around the lodge worked, he should also keep himself in the trenches and thereby better understand what their guests and visitors needed and thus help cultivate an all-round better vacation experience.

Heading off to the gym fifteen minutes later, all thought of working out was pushed from his mind however as he passed the art room and got an eyeful of the exhibition within. Sure he couldn't see much of the naked male model below the assembled easels, but he could clearly make out Missy's ethereal form sitting on the far left gazing at the man before her as her hand moved back and forth across the canvas. Remembering his parents words and seeing an opportunity to spend some extra time with you, he gave up on his workout, moved away from the door and taking out his phone, dialed Elaine and told her of a change of plan for the art class. Then heading to the changing rooms, he stripped down, slipped on an available robe and waited for Julius to be dismissed.

Sitting around and fine tuning the drawing you were working on while the instructor Elaine explained that another model would be taking over, you were the only one shocked when a new guy took the podium and removed his hooded robe to reveal the stranger you had dumped into the river that morning. Choking on the couch that caught in your throat, your cheeks heated up as your eyes focused in on his package and he winked over at you when his eyes followed your gaze. Giving a jerk of his hips that he was certain you had seen by the way the pencil dropped from your hand and how flustered you had become, he smiled to himself as he got comfortable and continued to be the bane of your existence for the next hour until Elaine called time on the class. Removing your drawings and ducking out quickly from the room, you made for the nearest exit and breathed in some lungfuls of much needed air. Meanwhile back in the art room as Brock thanked Elaine and Julius for letting him sit in, he now took pleasure in the fact that he clearly had an effect on you.

Heading off back to your room when your breathing was once again under control, you tried to figure out how this stranger, whose name you didn't even know, always showed up when you were trying to forget about him. Deciding now that the remainder of your evening was a total bust, you headed to the dining room for dinner before retiring to bed with a good book. Ordering the pasta and following Russell, the maitre d to a table by the window, you then ordered a delicious red wine and set your sights on the evening view beyond the glass. Watching families taking photos, couples and strangers getting to know each other around a campfire and children running around being children, you were pulled out of this wonderland when a waitress appeared with your wine.

Meanwhile, walking into the dining room to check on things as he liked to do, Brock caught Jennifer leaving your table and the view that greeted him took his breath away and tightened his pants. Discreetly bringing your glass to your nose and inhaling the pleasant aroma, you sniffed a few more times, taking longer each round. Finally pressing your lips to the glass, you took a sip and allowed the rich bouquet to settle gently in your mouth. Holding it carefully on your tongue as the flavor assaulted your taste buds, you were so wrapped up in your own little world, you had no idea that your actions were being so closely observed by someone who couldn't help but wonder how it would look and feel to have you pleasure his cock the way you did the wine. At last coming out of his fantasy as you swallowed the liquid inhabiting your mouth, Brock excused himself from Russell's presence and headed off back to his quarters, vowing one day soon to recreate the vision he had just experienced.

Thanking Jennifer once she delivered your meal, you tucked into the delicious spaghetti not knowing that your earlier actions had been interpreted as a glorified sex act. Still eating in peace and enjoying every single bite, you headed back to your room afterwards and curling up with the latest romance novel, lost yourself for a few blissful hours in its pages before laying down in bed and closing your eyes. Hoping that tomorrow would prove a more relaxing day, you had no idea as you drifted off towards sleep that somewhere under the same stars and roof as you, a dark haired, hazel eyed walking god was currently using his hand to relieve the tension a day in your orbit had fostered within him.

Waking the next morning feeling fully rested, you showered, dressed and decided to forego breakfast in favor of a little kayaking. Figuring that no strangers could upset your day out on the water, things took a quick nose-dive when you arrived at the kiosk to discover your mystery stalker doing sit-ups on the ground a few feet away. Deciding you were sick and tired of this complete arse ruining what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, you swiftly headed back to the main lodge and stood in line at reception to be assisted. Finally approaching Annie, you explained to her that while it was not your intention to cause trouble, a guest was causing you to feel very uncomfortable and you would appreciate it if management would do something about it. Assuring you that the matter would be dealt with, you told her you would be in your room awaiting their response. Half an hour later however everything you thought you knew evaporated like steam when you opened your door to discover your strange stalker standing before you.

"Hello Missy, I heard you were looking for me. Mind if I come in?" he asked with a little smirk, though he made no attempt to move forward.

Standing looking at him with your hand on the door, you quickly found your voice as your senses returned to you. "Yes I do mind actually. You have spent the last twenty-four hours showing up everywhere I've been and as a result I have reported you to management. Now, I don't know how you got my name or what made you think I asked to see you, but it would be best if you left before the manager arrives."

"Well in that case, how about I do you one better and get the owner?" he asked before reaching out his hand to you. "Brock Rumlow at your service. You really don't remember me?" he asked with slight disappointment evident in his voice.

Flitting your gaze back and forth between his face and his outstretched hand, the cogs began turning in your mind and a vision appeared before your eyes of you as a child playing on the swings with a boy a few years older than you. Reaching out your hand to shake his, your voice began working again as you asked him for identification before stepping aside to grant him entry.

Closing the door behind him as he walked over to the couch and made himself at home, a thousand questions assaulted your brain, but you figured the best course of action was to order something to calm your nerves before dealing with the hunk of muscle before you. Waiting for the drinks to arrive, you took a seat on one of the chairs opposite and played with the hem of your top while Brock occupied himself with admiring just how flustered his presence made you.

Eventually getting up to answer the knock at the door, he thanked the waiter and poured each of you a glass of wine before offering you yours. "Here cricket, this should help with those pesky nerves." he grinned before sitting back down on the couch.

Taking a huge gulp from the glass, you then set it down on the table before facing him. "I wouldn't be nervous if you didn't keep stalking me. And stop calling me cricket." you snapped.

"You never had a problem with it when we were children." he interrupted. " What's happened Missy? Where's that carefree, nature loving girl who stole my heart when I was twelve years old?" he asked, now moving closer to you.

Looking up at him as the sands of time shifted and took you back to that memory, you smiled slightly at the image of that tender boy who had shown you so many wonderful sights around the park. Pulling yourself back to the present and the now grown up adult in front of you, you no longer saw the stranger who was out to ruin your vacation. "I guess she just needed someone to show her the way back." you answered shyly as you topped up your glass and sat down beside him on the couch.

Catching up on all the things that had happened in your lives through the intervening years, two bottles of wine later found you and Brock stretched out on your bed talking through why both of you were still single. Explaining that he couldn't find anyone to capture his attention or understand his love of nature, you were shocked to realize that you too had a similar experience.

Opening your eyes a few hours later to discover you had fallen asleep on your bed in Brock's arms, you thought once more of the fun you had as children and the feelings that friendship had nurtured within you. Sure you would never admit as much to him, but the love he had for nature and the care and generosity he showed to everyone around him were qualities you had looked for in potential boyfriends. Looking at his sleeping form, you had to wonder if fate was playing a hand in your love life right now but swiftly shoved that thought aside when a pair of hazel eyes met yours and a hand reached up to cup your cheek.

"Hey there Missy, you're a sight to wake up to." his groggy voice greeted and you couldn't help the giggle that left your lips as he pulled you closer and threw his leg across yours. Closing his eyes once again as you snuggled into his strong chest and warm embrace you drifted off once more wondering how a childhood acquaintance could stir such feelings in you all these years later.

Finding yourself jolted awake an hour later, Brock once more showed you all his favorite parts of the park before dragging your tired body back to his rooms and ordering up some dinner. Watching you eat while you told him more about your job and your deep seated desire to leave the city, he couldn't help himself when you raised your glass to have a sip of wine. Telling you of the vision he had the evening before as you sat in the dining room, you gulped down the beverage as your eyes moved along his body and your mind traveled places it hadn't been in a really long time.

Continuing on with your meal as Brock dropped hint after hint about what he'd like to do to you, you gave as good as you got even though your panties gave away the fact that he was clearly winning. Finally finishing up your meal, Brock rose from the table and holding out his hand to you, asked if he could show you the other place that owned his heart. Agreeing apprehensively as you expected him to lead you to his bedroom, you were both shocked and surprised when he opened a hidden door and led you into the most glorious personal library you had ever seen. Covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves with double doors leading out to a balcony he conveniently told you connected to his bedroom, the two comfy chairs by the fire along with the beautiful mahogany table completed the look.

Taking your hand and leading you further inside, your eyes scanned every inch of the room as his hands and lips began roaming over your delicate skin. Moving up towards your ear as your head fell back against his shoulder, the words whispered by his glorious lips sent a shiver down your spine. "Tell me to stop Missy or I'll make you mine forever."

Thus far too lost in the majestic splendor all around you to take much notice of the look of pure adoration Brock was sending your way, Missy now turned around in his arms to face the man who was slowly working his way into her heart. "I . . . I can't Brock. This vacation was meant to be about me finding time to relax and rediscovering what was missing in my life." you breathed out as his lips and hands continued to play your body as if they'd known it all your life.

"I think we've both discovered what's been missing in our lives, cricket." he whispered, though the acoustics in the room allowed you to hear every word perfectly. "Let me worship you the way you deserve and if I fail to rock your word, you can go back to the city and forget this ever happened."

"And otherwise?" you questioned, wondering where his thoughts were leading him.

"If I deliver," he smirked, "you come live out here with me. We're not far from the city anyway, you said you hate it there and it sounds like your career allows you to work from anywhere." he reasoned

Thinking over this proposal you had to admit, you were intrigued. Living in nature and working away from the city sounded like a dream, but to also have someone like Brock dangled in front of you as a potential lover, now that just seemed like icing on your cake. Trying to think as his fingers began worming their way under your top, your breath hitched and all coherent thought left you as Brock zeroed in on your tits.

"Of yeah." you breathed out as his fingers kneaded your bra-covered mounds and his lips made themselves in the sweet juncture between your neck and shoulder. "That feels so good. Please don't stop." you moaned out as your fingers found their way into his hair.

Pulling back slightly to work your top off your body, it was now his turn to moan at the glorious sight standing before him. With two perky mounds delicately wrapped in midnight blue lace, he couldn't help but give voice to that old saying. "You know, it's been said when a lady wears lingerie this sexy, she expects it to be seen."

Giggling at this remark as his hands moved down to cup your ass, you leaned forward and taking his lower lip between your teeth, bit it gently before moving your hands along his t-shirt covered abs. Feeling the chiseled structure beneath your fingers, Brock looked amused as your brow furrowed while you thought about what you wanted to do next. Leaning forward to place his forehead against yours, Brock didn't help all that much as he tried to egg you on. "Go do it Missy, you know you want to."

Moving your hands once more along his stomach, you winked up at him before placing your hands in front of his throat and successfully ripping his t-shirt down the front. Squealing as this shocked Adonis picked you up and laid you on the rug in front of the fire, it was now your turn to be surprised as his lips descended on your left breast and his hand grabbed hold of the right. Moaning and writhing beneath him as his own incoherent babbling joined you, all sound was replaced with incessant giggling as he began rubbing his stubbled face along your body. Continuing until you were a laughing, tear stained mess, Brock then moved back up your body to worship your breasts the other way but this time his free hand began to work on your jeans. Moving your hands to help him out, he bit into your flesh and when you yelped and slapped his arm playfully, he grabbed hold of your jeans and pulled them apart.

Now kissing and licking all over your panties, he couldn't hide the smirk at the noticeable moisture present there and as his tongue worked you closer and closer to the edge, you screamed to the high heavens when he moved back abruptly and pulled you from the floor. "Blast it Brock, what are you doing? I didn't tell you to stop."

"I know Missy, but maybe you'd treat me to a dance before I ruin you forever." he said as he walked away towards a sound system you only now just noticed.

"No no no . . . You can't. Brock. Do me." Missy whined as he paused to glance over his shoulder to gaze on your near naked form.

"Oh my sweet cricket, how could I deny you anything?" he asked and you would later suspect that all he had been waiting for was you to give in to your desires. Walking back towards you, he lifted you up and this time placing you on the table, began rubbing his jean-clad crotch against your panties. Watching you lose yourself all over again, you decided you had enough however when he leaned forward and kissed your lips before leaning up on his elbows and telling you it was getting late. Finding the same strength you had the previous day, you reached forward and swiftly undoing his belt, successfully maneuvered his jeans and boxers down his legs before reaching out to grasp his semi-hard dumbstick. Hissing as your fingers closed around his shaft, you swatted his hands away as you sat up and began running your hand along his member while it was now his turn to moan above you.

"Oh fuck cricket. Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked as you flicked your wrist before moving down to cup his balls.

Giving a squeeze as you ran your tongue along his neck, your hand returned to his cock as your lips settled by his ear. "Wouldn't you like to know. Now, do you know what to do with that thing or would you like me to show you?"

Laughing that he was getting to see more of that fire he so admired about you, he swiftly removed your panties and running his fingers through your folds, was not at all surprised to find them and you were utterly soaked. Replacing those same fingers with his cock, he moved it back and forth along your pussy a couple of times before plunging it and his fingers into your flower and mouth. Smirking at you as you just lay there, breathing through your nose as he used you how he saw fit, you now knew how it felt to be stuffed to the point of pain and it felt good. Finally removing his fingers from your mouth, you gave voice to the pleasure he was pulling from you as he flipped you over and held your legs as his plunging rod pushed you nearer and nearer to that glorious finish you knew was just within reach. Instinctively knowing you needed a little more, he first decided to have a bit more fun.

"You feel that Missy? Feel what you do to me? Is this what you pictured yesterday as you sat in class ogling my package?"

Biting down on your lip both to keep from crying out at the building pressure and to not answer his question, you stopped being capable of much when he wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled you almost off the the table and held your waist with one hand while his hips pistoned into you at a faster pace. Now grasping the table as best you could while chanting his name over and over and over again, you were shocked that you didn't pass out when his fingers connected with your clit and your walls clamped around him as a powerful orgasm flowed through you.

Whimpering from over-stimulation as he continued to chase his own release, you came once more before you realized Brock still hadn't finished. Begging now for him to stop, he promised you could give him one more, which is exactly what you did as his balls clenched, his thrusts became erratic and you both came to the feeling of warm streams hitting your walls while your release gushed around his still twitching phallus. Easing himself out of your still trembling flower, he picked you up bridal style and carrying you gently to the bedroom, continued into the attached bathroom and turning on the shower, proceeded to wash you both before tenderly laying you down on what felt like a bed of clouds. Whispering words of love as he held you close, you drifted off to sleep in the arms of your childhood friend who years later reminded you that the dreams we dream as kids sometimes do come true.

Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie

[moral-turpitudes]

Butterflies 🦋: Part 2

Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of fighting, Gore, Blood, Mentions of Death, Angst, Fluff, Swearing, etc.

Word Count: 3,993

Summary: Y/N and Esmeralda are left to look after things and are planning for the wedding, meanwhile Bonnie and his father are on yet another perilous mission for Thomas Shelby.

Requested: Nah

A/N: I’ve worked on this in my drafts for days cuz my motivation has been super shitty recently so I hope this doesn’t suck as much as I think it does lol. I appreciate all the feedback on these fics and stuff though, it means the world. <3

Part 1 | Part 2

Aberama and Bonnie’s footsteps echoed over the expanse of hallowed ground, the leaves crunching as they walked through the brisk morning air, causing the hair on the back of their necks to stand on edge. In the distance Tommy and his brothers were standing near a tombstone, the thick fog eerily clearing where he stood as they got closer. He wore his usual dusty black coat and had his peaked cap sitting perfectly atop his head. 

“Now that you all are here, I say it’s about time we get this over with aye?” He asked, his icy gaze piercing Bonnie’s.

“Where are they Tom? Are we bait now?” Aberama asked, frustration lacing his voice.

“No. They told me to meet them here. If you look off to the distance they dug a grave, for us. We won’t go in there though, not today.” He said, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“Do you have your men positioned behind the trees?” Tommy asked.

“Yes. We have 5 men, not much but they’re good shots.” Bonnie said.

“Good.” Tommy said, turning around and scanning the tree line.

A shot rung out down near the grave suddenly, causing Tommy, his brothers, and Bonnie and Aberama to duck behind the nearby tombstones.

Tommy got his machine gun and loaded it expertly, taking aim where the shot came from as Aberama did the same. Bonnie looked out from the side of the decaying gray stone in front of him, his hands shaking slightly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John aim for someone to the side of them. John missed the first time, making him have to stop and reload. Without thinking, Bonnie quickly aimed and steadied his breathing, pretending it was similar to hunting for his own sake. He watched the mans movements in the distance like he would a deer, estimating the best angle and time to shoot.

With a single pull of the trigger, the bullet flew through the air and hit the man in the chest as he turned, giving Bonnie an easy shot in the end.

John looked back and nodded at him before aiming again, this time at the three men barreling towards them.

Aberama looked on as they came running and then stuck his finger in the air, moving it in a swift motion, signaling their men to shoot.

Shots rang out seemingly from all sides, as the three men tried to make it past the hail of bullets, but none of them escaped, falling with an audible thud on the near-frozen ground.

A whistle then came from the distance, giving the gruesome scene before them an eerie feeling.

“It’s those damn Billy Boys again... We have to take them out. Wait for my orders.” Tommy said, changing his clips and looking on ahead.

The Billy Boys sang loudly as they marched forward clutching their guns. The rest of the men from the troublesome gang were close behind them.

“I count 4 men from the gang, and 5 Billy Boys...” John said over their singing.

“Alright, Arthur you stay with me, Bonnie you take the right, Aberama you take the left. John you back Bonnie up.” He said, loading the last of the bullets into his machine gun.

With a deep breath Tommy got the unruly lead member, Jimmy McCavern, in his sights and steadied himself like he did in the war.

“In the bleak midwinter...” He muttered quietly under his breath, before taking his shot.

Back at the camp, Y/N and Esmeralda helped plan the wedding down to the last details. They excitedly talked about the food and music they’ll have and Bonnie’s younger sisters even helped Y/N learn some of the dances they traditionally did.

As the day went on, the sun started poking through the trees in dancing golden beams as they prepared lunch, adjusting the portions since most of the men were gone.

Y/N sat down and looked into the crackling flames of the bonfire, letting the warmth soothe her cold skin.

“You okay love?” Esmeralda said, a concerned look on her face as she stirred the kettle over the flames.

“Yeah...just worried ya know? It’s not easy being here without him.” Y/N said running her finger over the small diamond ring.

“They know what they’re doing. They’ll be back. If not, me and you will just have to go over there ourselves.” She said with a wink. Y/N smiled and gathered some bowls, finally working up a somewhat decent appetite after all the cleaning and wedding preparations earlier in the morning.

She and the remaining people there all sat around, talking about random things and discussing their plans for the wedding decorations and music, some asking her opinion, others excitedly showing her jewelry or clothing she could borrow.

“I’d get to resting if I were you Y/N who knows, they may be home later.” Esmeralda said, draping a blanket over your shoulders. She didn’t realize that she had been going nonstop all day, partly to relish in her excitement, and partly to take her mind off how her fiancé was off fighting in one of Thomas Shelby’s little battles.

“That’s true. I’ll go do that I guess...wake me if you need help.” Y/N said before going into the forest green vardo. Her head hit the pillow and she reluctantly closed her eyes, wanting to sleep but not wanting to wake later in fear of getting her hopes up.

Shots rang out in the graveyard, the cold air a bleak afterthought as the bullets pierced through the fog and into the men’s flesh.

Tommy ducked as Aberama took over, shooting two of the 5 Billy Boys. Meanwhile Arthur fought a fourth one who ran off towards the tree line. Jimmy struggled to breathe, choking on his own blood on the frozen dirt as the last of the Billy Boys ran towards Bonnie and John.

Bonnie shot quickly, aiming for the mans head, missing just by a hair. John then shot, hitting him in the shoulder. But before Bonnie could finish him off, he felt a sharp pain in his arm, blood trickling down as he stared at the smoking gun a few feet in front of him. John shot him dead while Bonnie retreated behind the tombstone for a moment to assess his wound. It was bleeding pretty badly and he hissed as the pain tore through his arm as he tied some cloth around it.

“Bonnie are you okay?!” His father yelled as he ran over to him and ducking by a nearby tombstone as well.

“Missed an artery but still bleeding pretty bad. He was a terrible shot, I’ll be fine.” He said, winking at his father slightly before checking the clip in his gun. Aberama took a long glance at him and then at the other 4 men who were no doubt doing business with the now-deceased Billy Boys.

They nervously ran towards Tommy who was aiming again and Aberama watched as Arthur stood in a bloody mess over the last of the Billy Boy bodies.

“Take them out.” Tommy yelled.

Aberama signaled again as Bonnie and John shot at the men, their shots piercing through two of them while the other two managed to almost get to Tommy, a bullet whizzing past his head before the pair were shot by the men in the tree line.

As the last of the bodies dropped, an eerie silence fell over Tommy and the rest.

They all worked together, painstakingly dragging the bodies to the grave that was dug, only to be stopped in their tracks by an odd object in the center of the hole.

“Stop! Don’t throw them in. Get back!” Tommy yelled.

“What is it Tom?” Arthur said as he watched his brothers gears turning frantically in his head.

“A bomb.” He said loudly.

“Everyone get back, do we have anything not valuable...and heavy?” He asked the group.

“We have our guns...but...we need them Tom.” John said.

“We can get more. Give them to me, every one of you.” He said.

Aberama reluctantly let his go, as did Bonnie and Tommy’s brothers followed suit.

Tommy gathered them all, including his in his arms and stood near the edge of the grave.

“Everyone go. Now.” He said.

“What? No of course not! Are you mad?” John yelled.

“Fucking go. That’s an order. Now!” He said, his eyes piercing his brothers.

They swallowed hard and took a look at their brother before running towards the fragile shelter of the tombstones with Aberama and Bonnie following.

Tommy took a few steps back, checking the weight of the guns in his arms before closing his eyes and whispering to himself once again, the images of Grace and Charlie playing in his mind before he got a running start, chucking the guns at the center of the hole and desperately running for his life.

In the 30 seconds it took for the guns to make an impact, the ground rumbled around the bodies of the men they killed and eventually erupted in a loud fiery boom, sending their limbs flying and Tommy slamming into the ground, covering his head in a desperate attempt to save himself.

As the dirt, debris, and blood fell down on him, the others watched nearby as the gross mixture rained down on them as well.

Tommy got up slowly, his ears ringing loudly and vision blurring as he held his arm, wincing at the deep cut that came from some of the debris.

“Fucking hell he’s alive...” John said in disbelief. Tommy always found a way to cheat death, in some twisted way.

As he limped slightly to the men, he lit a cigarette, bringing it to his muddy, blood stained lips.

“I’ll deliver your guns and your payment. Tell your men you all are free to go. Thank you for the help Mr. Gold.” He said looking at Aberama as blood dripped down his arm.

“They better be good guns because we’ll need them Mr. Shelby. Let us know when you need us and we’ll be there, if the pay is right of course.” He said.

“It’ll be right, you’ll see.” He said, before waving them off and inspecting his arm.

Bonnie and Aberama slowly walked off after saying goodbye, leaving the gory scene behind them as they walked through the damp grass, the sun glowing in the autumn afternoon. The fog had cleared, revealing the true mess they’d made.

“You’ll need to get that cleaned up before Y/N sees ya know...she’ll kick your ass.” One of their men said, chuckling.

“Oh I will. She’ll kick my ass regardless, because she hates that I’m gone.” He said.

“You’ll see her soon my boy, soon.” Aberama said as they walked down the muddy road and to their horses.

Y/N awoke to yet another empty spot beside her, making her heart drop slightly as she assumed the worst.

Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and stepping out of the vardo, she walked towards the bonfire which was going strong thanks to Bonnie’s sisters.

“They’re not back Y/N, don’t worry though they’ll be here I’m sure of-“ His younger sister started to say before being cut off by the sound of hooves in the distance.

“It’s them!” She said before getting up with her sister, including Esmeralda.

Y/N joined them as they walked towards the slightly worn path that lead out of the camp and waited. Her eyes darting between everyone. When the men stopped and got off their horses, and that’s when she saw him.

They were all covered in dirt and god knows what, blood and debris covering their hair and clothes. But he stood out amongst the men, having a bright red cloth wrapped around his arm.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she walked towards him quickly, hoping he wasn’t hurt too badly.

She didn’t say anything though, just ran into his arms, doing all she could not to hurt him.

“Told you I’d come back my love...” He said smiling down at her, exhausted.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked, trying to look at his arm.

“Just a bullet to the arm, I’ll need to get it looked at though. I’m okay love I promise.” He said, looking into her eyes before bringing his lips to hers.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” She said, taking his hand and leading him to one of the logs near the bonfire.

“Sit here I’ll be back.” She said, getting a pail of water, some fresh cloth, and alcohol.

“Need any help?” Aberama asked, walking over as she laid the items out.

“Yes please.” She said grinning as she moved Bonnies sleeve out of the way and carefully unwrapped the blood soaked cloth.

“You have a knife?” Y/N asked.

“Always, here you go. Bonnie bite down on this cloth here alright?” He said shoving a dark cloth in his mouth.

Y/N had helped Aberama a couple of times before when some of the men came back from hunting or getting into fights, so she hoped she could at least dislodge a bullet.

She carefully used the tip of the knife to feel around, cutting a bit to fit her finger into the hole, grabbing the bullet quickly. Bonnie grunted in pain as she did so, and only got louder as she poured the alcohol into the wound.

“Here’s this, remeber that stitch I showed you dear?” Aberama asked. Y/N nodded and put the handle of the knife in her mouth, brows furrowing in concentration while she stitched him up.

She took the knife and cut a clean strip of cloth and tied it around his arm, wiping her hands in the water as she did her hands of the crimson mess. Bonnie took the cloth out of his mouth and composed himself a bit as he watched her clean up and come back with another bowl of water and soap.

“Sorry my love, I know that hurt.” She said caressing his cheek.

“It’s alright, I’m glad you helped me out lord knows no would’ve bled out if we didn’t get back soon.” He said.

“I know...do you want to talk about it?” She asked, bringing the wet cloth to his face, clearing it of all the dirt and blood.

“I don’t want to cause you any stress love. But I’m here and that’s all that matters.” He said, drying his face and hands and then bringing Y/N in close.

“Did you all have fun planning the wedding?” He asked.

“Yes! I think you’re going to love what we’ve picked out. I also learned some of the dances thanks to your sisters...” Y/N said looking up at him as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Oh really? Do you think you could take on my dad? He’s the best dancer of us.” He said chuckling.

“I’ll have to bribe him to dance huh. This will be fun...I can’t wait to marry you Bonnie Gold.” Y/N said kissing him as the sun set over the flames of the fire, the night growing colder as time went on.

“Let’s get some sleep love, you need it. We have a big day tomorrow.” She said winking at him, getting up and carefully walking to their vardo.

Bonnie smiled and got up, following behind her and up into the vardo where the warm bed awaited them.

The birds chirped loudly the next morning, stirring Y/N awake. She ran her hand over her small bump while looking out the little window, her eyes going to the new sights before her. She giggled to herself as she got up carefully, slipping on her robe and slippers before stepping out of the vardo.

“Have you been up all night decorating?” She asked, a playful grin on her lips as she questioned Esmeralda who was finishing up throwing petals on the ground.

“What...? No....” She said, giggling as Y/N came over, giving her a hug.

“It looks beautiful. Thank you so much for all this...” Y/N said looking at the lamps placed all around the cleared open space, the only things out were wooden seats set up with the petals all over the ground, and a small platform that was covered in various flowers.

“Now I know Bonnie is asleep, but I wanted to help you get ready for the big day, and I don’t want him to see you until it’s time to say “I do” alright? He’ll be so surprised it’ll be great.” Esmeralda said excitedly.

“Should I wake him at least?” Y/N asked as Esmeralda led her to her vardo.

“No. Aberama will take care of him, you’ll be with me alllll day!” She said, having Y/N sit on her bed while she got out a dress. It was a white lace dress that flowed almost down to the floor.

“Wait you want me to wear that? Is...isn’t that...” Y/N trailed off.

“The one you saw in Small Heath? Yes. I remember when we went to the shops just looking around for fun. And well, you’ll know why I got it, soon.” She said mischievously.

“Oh I love it! I can’t believe it. Oh my I’ll pay you back I swear it.” Y/N said giving her a hug.

Esmeralda giggled as she broke from her embrace to help Y/N slip on the dress. She zipped it up and led her over to a small mirror where she could move it around to see it at various angles. It hugged her small bump which was slightly more prominent now unlike in her other loose fitting clothes.

“I’m gonna be racking my brain all night for how you got this just so you know. This is fucking beautiful.” Y/N said twirling around slightly.

“Bonnie will love it. We got him a suit too. You’ll see.” She said winking. After Y/N got situated she sat patiently while the girls did her hair and makeup, giving her a bold red lip.

After they finished that, Y/N helped them get all dressed up as well in various colored dresses and jewelry.

“Here, I forgot these.” One of the younger sisters said, pinning gold earrings to Y/N’s ears and placing a gold necklace around her neck. It complimented the dress nicely, the suns rays bouncing off the jewels and the sparkling dress.

After one more look in the mirror she felt tears prick at her eyes, threatening to fall. She felt beautiful for the first time in so long, and she was so excited to start this new chapter, never thinking she’d make it this far because of her past home-life. She sighed, thinking about how her parents should be there, but she looked at the women before her and realized she had all the family she needed right there in this small forested area, and she couldn’t be happier.

“You okay?” Esmeralda said rubbing her back lightly.

“Yeah...I’m just so excited, and happy, it’s also a bit terrifying if I’m honest.” She said wiping her eyes gently, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

“This is going to be one of the best nights of your life Y/N, just wait.” She said giving her a reassuring hug.

“I don’t know where I’d be without any of you. I love you guys so much.” Y/N said smiling and hugging them before taking a deep breath and stepping out of the vardo.

She felt the cool ground on her feet, not wanting to wear heels as they’d just sink in the damp earth. She was carefully led behind the vardo to an elaborately colored curtain that hung between two of the trees. Esmeralda placed a string of flowers in her hair before going to her seat, and she saw Aberama in a nice suit walking up to her.

“Are you ready?” He asked, a gentle smile playing across his lips.

“Yes.” She said quietly, nervously holding onto his arm as he walked her through the curtain and down towards the flower covered platform.

Some of the people who lived in the camp played instruments as she walked, the music filling the air as she looked out and saw all of the people she’s gotten to know there over the past year, and saw Tommy and the other blinders among the guests, watching her as she made her way to Bonnie. She looked at him with a huge grin as he watched her walk with his father up onto the platform, the blinders friend Jeremiah acting as the officiant off to the side of them. Aberama let go of her arm and hugged her gently and patted Bonnie on the back before heading to his seat.

“You look absolutely beautiful my love.” He said smiling down at her.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She said looking up at him, her eyes searching his.

As Jeremiah concluded the ceremony, everyone cheered, the loud music consuming their ears as they kissed.

They then waded through the small crowd, Bonnie introducing Y/N to various people he knew that came in from other areas. But Y/N had a sneaky suspicion whilst chatting with them. Tommy was eyeing them in the distance as she spoke to some of Bonnies friends, making her a bit uneasy. She knew he wasn’t as bad as he had been made out to be, but she couldn’t help feel nervous and Bonnie could tell.

“Hey let me introduce you to them better than I did last time aye?” He said taking her hand and leading her over to them. Tommy’s face faltered from his usual grimace to a warm smile as they approached.

“Mr. and Mrs. Gold....congratulations.” He said shaking Bonnies hand and kissing the top of yours.

“I told you we’d pay you back right...didn’t I Aberama?” He asked playfully, eyeing Aberama as he stood next to her.

“Indeed, thank you for everything, Mr. Shelby.” He said before excusing himself.

Esmeralda came over shortly after, making the interaction less awkward.

“Thank you so much Mr. Shelby. The dress, the lights, everything’s beautiful!” She said winking at Y/N.

“Wait....” Y/N said, as she looked at Tommy with a genuine smile, surprised he’d help them with something like this.

“I should be thanking you as well Mr. Shelby, I don’t see why you went to the trouble though. That was very thoughtful.” She said.

“Your husband and father in law have helped me a lot recently with the business as you know, and I figured I’d give our best fighter something as a bit of a thank you. Don’t worry about paying anything back though love, I insist you keep the dress, for memories sake.” He said.

Y/N grinned as she looked up at Bonnie who held her hand in his. As the night drug on, you two departed from the Shelby’s and went to the source of the music, nervously stepping out with him to dance.

“Oh I’m so nervous...what if I fall?” Y/N said, clutching onto his hand as he spun her around. His sisters were near her dancing like they’d taught her.

“I’ll catch you.” He said before picking up the pace with the beat, everyone cheering as they both danced near the bonfire. Y/N remembered to transition to the other people and so she went to Esmeralda who giggled as they danced around, linking arms with each other and then eventually made her way back to Bonnie.

“Bon...?” She said, smiling up at him.

He grinned at her, her eyes sparkling as the sun set around them.

“Yeah?”

“I...I mean-we love you. Always will...” She said as she caressed his cheek, the music slowed down as their movements came to a stop.

“I love you both too, more than all the stars in the sky.” He said.

The small crowd cheered as they shared a kiss, ending the dance as the light died down around them, surrounded only by family and friends and the sparkling night sky above.

Tag List:

(If you’d like to be added/removed from the Bonnie Gold tag list just shoot me an ask!) :)

@bonniesgoldengirl, @peakyrogers, @ta-ka-shi-ma

[wanderlustxprincess]

Daily Writing Prompt Challenge - Day 1

“I never imagined myself in a wedding dress,” Delilah says. She studies her reflection for a moment in the floor-length mirror before her eyes drift towards Tyler. He’s kneeling on the floor in front of her, pushpins balancing dangerously in between his lips. She can tell he’s trying not to look up at her, his eyes trained on the hem he’s working on. She stifles a sigh and pushes on. “I always thought if I got married, I’d just show up at the courthouse in jeans and a t-shirt. Oh! Maybe a bikini fresh from a dip in a hotel pool!”

The pushpins scatter, flying in all different directions as Tyler lets out a hearty laugh. “You’re something else, Del.” He drops the hem of the gown and runs his now free hands through his hair.

“You’d be so bored without me,” Delilah pipes. 

Bored doesn’t even begin to describe it; he thinks as he steals a glance at Delilah for the first time. He thinks back to the moment he first laid eyes on her, all those years ago. They were seven, and she was hanging upside down on the monkey bars, pigtails grazing the wood chip-covered ground in the breeze. He was drawn to her instantly, even when she let out the most menacing, Wicked Witch of the West style laugh. 

Tyler’s so lost in the memory he doesn’t even have time to process what Delilah is doing until it’s too late. She’s on her hands and knees, helping him pick up the stray pins. His heart nearly stops when the delicate lace on the bodice catches on the crystal appliqués of the floor-length mirror. 

“Would you please just stand there and look pretty,” Tyler hisses, shaking his head.

His words may be harsh, but Delilah knows there’s nothing but love underneath them. There’s never been anything but love underneath his words. Even that time he told her to “fuck off” when she barged into his dorm room freshman year, moments before he lost his virginity. Delilah shakes her head, willing the memory to go back into its box in the deepest, darkest corner of her mind.

Delilah stands, looking down at Tyler with a pout forming on her face. The Delilah Pout™ as Tyler has come to refer to it as. “Am I not always pretty?” 

Tyler lets out an exasperated sigh. This is what he gets for asking Delilah to fill in for a bride-to-be who had to cancel her fitting for a “venue emergency.” As if the wedding venue was more important than the wedding dress that cost the same as several month’s worths of rent at his shitty studio apartment.

“You’re gorgeous, Delilah; you don’t need me to tell you that.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing it,” she says, sticking her tongue out. Truthfully, he’s the only one who has ever called her gorgeous, but she’s not about to tell him that. It’ll just make him blush. And if there’s one thing Delilah can’t resist, it’s a blushing Tyler. Instead, she makes a big show of getting back onto the pedestal, picking the bottom of the gown up as if she’s an eighteenth-century Princess who has just let the love of her life walk out on her. “How does she expect to dance in this thing?” 

Tyler reclaims his spot, kneeling in front of Delilah. One hand holding the delicate fabric, the other working a pushpin through it for the seamstress. “She won’t. That’s what the reception dress is for.” 

“A reception dress?” Delilah chokes out. “But she spent,” she pauses, looking at the receipt on the small side table. “$10,000!” She fans herself as she turns around. “Ty, I don’t think I should be wearing this dress.” 

Tyler grunts in response, pushpins back between his lips. If there’s anyone who should be wearing this dress, it’s you. He quickly shakes the thought away, steadying his hands as he works the pushpin through. 

“What kind of monster spends $10,000 on a dress she’s not even going to wear the whole night! I think I’m going to be sick.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Tyler warns, working the final pushpin through the fabric, securing the hemline. He stands, wiping his hands on his pants before offering his hand to Delilah. “Come on queasy, let’s get you out of that dress before you do something stupid.” 

“I don’t think anything is stupider than spending $10,000 on a wedding dress,” she says, accepting his hand. She tries to ignore the static shock that jolts through her body at the contact. He’s helped her up millions of times, and this should be no different. Before she has time to dwell, she carefully makes her way back to the small dressing room.

Tyler cleans up as Delilah wrestles with the gown in the dressing room. A thread of profanities falls from her lips before she emerges a moment later in a bright pair of jeans and a polka-dotted sweater. She gently hands the gown to Tyler, who gingerly hangs it back up on a rack full of white dresses — none of which sparkle quite like this one. 

“I feel human again!” Delilah says, dancing around the room. “Next time you need a fill-in bride for a fitting, do me a favor and don’t call me.”

It’s Tyler’s turn to pout, brown eyes growing three times the size. “But whatever are best friends for if not for trying on ridiculously expensive wedding dresses?” 

“Fine,” Delilah says, giving in. “But I expected a proper proposal next time. None of this five am emergency text nonsense.”

Tyler grabs her hand and immediately drops to his knees; a playful glint dances across his eyes. Delilah looks at him wide-eyed, her lips tugging up at the corners. “Delilah Albright, will you be my fake bride from now until eternity?” 

Delilah claps her free hand over her mouth. “Oh, Tyler,” she says, taking on a British accent for reasons not even she knows. “It would be my honor.” 

Tyler laughs so hard he loses his balance, sending them both tumbling to the pearly white floor. “What was that accent?” Tyler manages to get out between laughs and gasps for air. 

“I don’t know!” Delilah shouts, eyes brimming with tears from laughter. “It sort of just popped out.” 

“Don’t you mean it, popped out?” Tyler says, delivering the last part in his own take on a terrible British accent. 

Delilah shoves him away before quickly pulling him back towards her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck. “I hate you.” 

“Hate you too,” he says as his smile spreads across his face revealing a dimple on his cheek. 

They stay like that for a moment. A tangled web of limbs, laughing and enjoying each other’s closeness. It’s been a while since they’ve just reveled in each other’s company even though they both live in the same city. Tyler’s been busy, working crazy hours to prove himself at Something Blue, the wedding gown boutique that specializes in outrageous, occasionally blue-dyed wedding gowns. And Delilah’s been holed in random libraries, working on her dissertation. They do text throughout the day. Delilah sends him various gifs of a person jumping off a bridge, and Tyler responds with various pictures of glorious diner food items she’d miss if she did it. And they try to FaceTime at least once a week, but it’s not the same as being in each other’s presence. When they’re together, it’s almost like they’re two sides of the same person. They complete each other. 

Neither one is ready to pull apart, but Delilah’s stomach doesn’t get the memo, sending an echoing growl through Something Borrowed. Delilah moves from the crook of Tyler’s neck and instead muffles her laughter in his chest. Tyler does his best to keep his heartbeat under control. 

“Come on. I think I owe you and your Hungry, Hungry Hippo stomach breakfast.”

“Frankie’s breakfast extravaganza?” Delilah asks, pulling away from Tyler so she can look up into his eyes. It takes all her might not to reach out and poke the dimple on his cheek. 

Tyler gasps dramatically, “I’m offended you have to ask!”

Just as quickly as they fell, they’re back on their feet and standing a safe distance away from each other. The loss of contact is immediately felt between them but neither wants to admit it, out loud or to themselves. Tyler runs a nervous hand through his hair as his cheek dimple disappears. Delilah tugs at her sweater that had ridden up before she turns towards him, smiling again. 

“Shall we,” Delilah asks, British accent back in full force. 

Tyler shakes his head before offering her his arm, “Lead the way, m’lady.” 

[neocityfics]

2096: Zodiac

Chapter: Chapter 1 < ❝  Chapter 2 ❞  > Chapter 3

➥ Chapter List

Genre: Cyberpunk inspired, mafia, not-so dystopian, angst, slow-burn

Pairing: Doctor! Taeyong x Reader (featuring Jaehyun)

Warnings: Moderate cursing, mention of guns, mention of blood, alcohol

Note: I’m making Taeyong blonde in this story, I know on the story cover (?) he has hot pink hair, but I just needed a scientist-looking photo to match the doctor theme. So just ignore it lol ✌🏼

▶ Ambience

My face blanks at his question while his eyes bore into mine. To be frank, I’d been to a handful of parties in college, but they always played terrible music and the stench of booze mixed with sweat filled the musty frat house. It’s a dizzying smell and always leaves me nauseous, though sometimes it’s tolerable, rarely enjoyable, if I’m not so sober. However, I’d never gone out clubbing. Honestly speaking, the concept is a bit enticing. Letting loose your stresses and enjoying even a few hours of being yourself without judgment sounds like something I’ve been needing since I started working two jobs. Not to mention most clubs have professional DJ’s, not some random second year frat brother whose only personality trait is playing his today’s hip-hop playlist on a singular loudspeaker. In response to Taeyong’s question, I shake my head with confusion written all over my face. Without another moment, I ask him why he inquired. I expected him to demand that I throw myself into a gunfight or some other dangerous scenario in the darkest spots of town-- definitely not where the bass shakes the whole building as people jump up and down for hours on end. His approach is interesting. I say nothing, however, as words couldn’t seem to come out of my mouth at the moment. Taeyong speaks up again.

“Whatever your answer is, I have a mission for you,” he begins.”There’s a guy at the club several blocks south from here who I need parts from. It’s for the rest of Lucas’s arm,” he explains, sparing a glance at his job on Lucas. “His name is Johnny, the owner and main DJ of the place called Club Zone. Ask any of the bartenders for a Zodiac special. They’ll direct you to Johnny, and you’ll get information on when those parts will be delivered to the clinic, who he’s sending to do the job, and when the next big rave is. Just for fun.” Pushing himself off his chair, he eyes Lucas again who’s been watching him carefully. Taeyong pats the front of his pants, dust flies off and disappears into the air. “I’m not done with Lucas, not until I replace all of his limbs.”

Cruel. Those words immediately send me into disgust and fury, but I couldn’t lose my cool in front of Taeyong, not when he has a fucking gun and could pull it back out any second. My stomach feels queasy and knees weak from imagining how lifeless-looking Lucas would be if and when he completely turns into a cyborg. Hopefully, I can find a way to dig him out of this mess. For now, I try to keep my composure, a bit of surprise that my voice didn’t come out cracking and soft, “I’ll accept your mission, but on the condition that you tell me what exactly you’re planning to do with Lucas.” In response to my request, he nods, taking painfully slow steps towards me. I hold my ground, but couldn’t stop a little jump as he grabs my chin and tilts my head to the side. I lock eyes with Lucas as he appears ready to knock the lights out of Taeyong but stands there, only waiting to see what’s next. Taeyong’s warm breath grazes my ear as a hearty laugh breaks from his lips. The blood in my body seems to be rushing faster and faster as every heartbeat becomes louder in my head.

“Sure, sure. I’ll fulfill that condition right now.” He forces my face to turn the other side, the pressure of his thumb against my jawline sure to bruise some skin. “Though maybe you and robot boy over there could use a bit of a cool down. I know this is a lot to take in. Care for tea?”

▶ Ambience

There’s definitely a bruise on my jaw where he felt the need to press so hard on, my fingers poking at the spot. Taeyong boils tea and pours it into three cups from the kitchenette. He distributes them to Lucas and me, keeping one for himself. Taking a seat on the sofa across from us who share a couch, he seems to note our suspicion from our faces. This man dared to hurt me in front of my best friend, and he expects us to keep calm and drink the tea? Who knows what it’s laced with. He shakes his head, blows across the surface of the tea, and sips away. A minute passes without the other two of us moving a muscle, patiently waiting to see if something is up with the beverage. But nothing happens, and Lucas goes in. Of course, it seems Taeyong really needs Lucas for whatever reason, so it wouldn’t make sense to poison or kill him. Giving up and feeling safer seeing Lucas take it in, I hesitantly drink from my cup. The soreness becomes more apparent as I move my jaw to adjust my lips on the cup of tea. Not bad. Taeyong takes to an explanation, causing me to shift my attention from the tea back to him.

“You’re aware of the corrupt so-called government, right? We just call them the top. All those dirty leaders, bunch of nasty fuckers with no empathy.” The urge to call out the hypocrisy heightened with how he treated Lucas and me, but my mouth remains focused on the tea, ears on his words. His tone becomes stern as he continues, “There are twelve megacities, right? Every single one of them controlled by a few higher ups. Though broken up, they’re powerful as a unit and will not hesitate to team up. They’ll kick us when we’re already down.” I find it strange how he keeps using ‘us’ as if he’s one of the unfortunate people like Lucas and I who have little to nothing. I doubt he has any taste for the hopelessness that I’ve felt these past two years. Not with all the nice luxuries I see in his apartment. But again, it’s best to keep listening and not aggravate him. “But in all of those megacities, they’re not aware that there’s a collective of us distributed as gangs to keep control and gather information to overthrow the top.” Taeyong finishes off his tea, maybe a bit too fast as he coughs a bit into his elbow, and sets the cup onto the coffee table separating us. I try to cut in with a question, but he elaborates further. “I’m the one leading Neostone’s collective. You’re wondering why your good friend here is part of my work, yes? Short answer is this.” Those same dark eyes drilling a hole through me. He leans forward from his seat, clasping hands and resting his elbows on his knees. “Lucas is a prototype, basically an experiment, as part of the plan to take down the top. He’s the perfect build, very healthy. It makes things easier to work with. Lucas took my offer of a good amount of money and promotion at the clinic once this is complete.”

My jaw clenches. At this point, the screams are threatening to spill. Lucas agreed to follow through this procedure... for money and promotion? I can’t blame him. These times have been very tough on us with little money, surviving on scraps. Getting enough to pay rent every month is like walking through hell and back just to find out you’ll be close to starving for the next week. He’s even been given the opportunity to carry out practice-- as a doctor? A nurse? Lucas wasn’t able to finish his studies, so this would be a dream come true for him. But everything about this is inhumane. Taeyong doesn’t seem to have evil intentions based on his coup d'état agenda which I can somewhat get behind, but in the process, Lucas gets hurt. I raise my voice after a minute of taking things in, “So, about my mission. When do you want this done?” It’s a Saturday night which means places like bars and clubs will be fill up quickly and get rowdy. It’s currently 10:00pm.

“Club Zone really starts to become crowded at 11:00pm. At the latest, be back by 3:00am since Johnny shuts things down at 2:00am.” Taeyong circles a finger around the rim of the teacup. “Be aware of others at that place. I’ve heard horror stories from Johnny, though he tries his best to keep things calm. If I don’t hear back from you...” Lucas gulps when Taeyong stands. Though Lucas is way taller than him, Taeyong’s presence towering over us is no joke. “Lucas loses his job and can’t ever work in the clinic. That’ll be on you, sweetheart.” One corner of his lips lifts as he breathes out a soft, yet daunting laugh. He’s enjoying this, and I detest him for it. I need to talk to Lucas.

“May Lucas and I be excused for a minute? I just need to calm down, and I can’t do that with you right there.” My expression sours, and Taeyong waves us off as he leaves towards one of the rooms. Lucas and I are left alone on the couch. Silence, then a sniffle. At the sorrowful sound, I swivel my head to Lucas whose head hangs low. “Lucas. You should’ve told me all of this. Why did you take the offer when you’re only going to become... not human? We’re doing fine with money, I can take another shift and--”

He slams a fist on the table in front of us, another overwhelming silence ensues. The slight crack in his voice hurts. “Do you think there’s been a day I don’t worry about the costs of everything? Do you think I enjoy being at that damn clinic just to end up cleaning towels and disinfecting instead of applying everything I learned in college? Do you think I tolerate seeing you overwork yourself with two jobs so you can pay for yourself and a bit for me? Fuck you.” The tears in our eyes pour over the rim, hot like the tea we just had. The pain in his words struck me. I never realized he felt this way. I guess I saw him as someone who’s only happy and goofy all the time without seeing what’s truly bothering him inside. He may look and sound strong, but what he’s saying right now breaks the image that my mind latched onto. Lucas removes his hand from the table, a bit of a purplish hue forming from the contact with the hard surface. “I’m doing this not only for myself, but for you, too. You are the only one that’s given me purpose in this fucking dump of a life, and now Taeyong is allowing me a chance at what I love best and to get us out of being dirt poor. Can’t you see that? I know you care for me, but please don’t police my decisions.” He sighs and extends his arm over my upper back, pulling me into a side hug. “I can’t express how sorry I am for dragging you into this. But now that you’re here and on board, I swear to protect you. From everyone. From Taeyong.”

I don’t know what to say other than muttering sorry a hundred times as the crocodile tears soak small parts of my clothes. I wipe away the drops from eyes as soon as I hear a door click. Taeyong comes back into view, seeing the pathetic disarray that was a sobbing session. “Done? It’s 10:30pm now, better get going before you can’t push through the horde. Club Zone is popular.” This bitch, how much more insensitive can he get? Once the remaining wetness of my face becomes dry, I stand up, grabbing my things without saying anything. Taeyong’s getting on my last nerves, and I may snap if I try anything to get back at him, verbally or physically. The only thing that I can do right now is to find out the information, give it to him, and leave for home with Lucas. Do my job and go home. The two watch me leave the apartment, disappearing into the hallway with a slam of the door.

▶ Ambience, NCT Playlist for the club

So this is Club Zone. The mixture of bright purple and pink neon lights accompanied by dizzying bass make my head hurt a bit. I arrived at 10:55pm with the long line already forming. Though I feel out of place, I fall in and peer towards the front. The bouncer doesn’t seem to have any sort of list. Looks like they just let anyone in. After about fifteen minutes, I get in. Taeyong’s right-- this place is getting quite packed, people already seemingly drunk, probably from pre-game. The bass gets louder, banging against my ears, as I make my way to the bar where less people were hanging out. Everyone else is already swaying and spinning to the deafening beats. It’s hard to see anyone with how dim the club’s lights were. I seat myself at the counter on a high chair, raising a hand and giving a smile to the nearest bartender who thankfully attends to me right away. Upon asking for my request, I answer, “Zodiac special, please.” The bartender stands still for a second, examining me, then nodding and fixing a drink right away. Taeyong didn’t specify in his directions whether the bartender would immediately tell me where this Johnny person is, so I sit and wait for anything to happen. I receive the drink which is rather pretty with a light blue liquid and glowing green swirls. The bartender then slides what seems like a receipt next to my drink. They tell me not to worry and that the drink’s safe to have. Damn, no alcohol. Not sure if I’m pleased with the fact it’s non-alcoholic, but it isn’t important right now. Upon further inspection, I find a scribbled note on the back, “Tonight’s a packed night, please wait until midnight at the bar. I’ll come find you and take you to the back once I switch with another DJ.” I assume this is Johnny’s instructions which I sigh to. Shoving the piece of paper into my pocket, I check the time on my phone. It’s 11:20pm now.

Another tall figure takes a seat besides me despite the other empty seats farther away. I do my best not to make any sort of eye contact as I really don’t want trouble on my first mission. My eyes are set on doing the bare minimum and leaving as soon as it’s done. I almost choke on a sip of the drink as the person startles me with a deep voice, “What drink is that? Looks cool.” I regain a steady breath and turn to face whoever this is and... oh shit. In the little light provided by the overhead beams on the ceiling, I make out a rather handsome visage topped with fluffy, wavy dark hair. Maybe this mission will be alright. “Hello?” He tilts his head to fit onto his palm, elbow resting the table. Fuck, was I staring?

“Oh, sorry! It’s, well,” I stop for a second, realizing this drink is probably exclusive to gang members, so if he asked for one also... that may cause complications. “I just told the bartender to surprise me, to be honest.” I hope that lie is convincing enough, and it appears so as he laughs. He waves and asks for a glass of Manhattan from a bartender who seems to tense up at his presence. I continue just to enjoy the cold drink, which is the perfect amount of sweet and sour. This’ll make up for being in this stuffy space.

“Jaehyun, by the way.” I lift a brow, only slightly facing Jaehyun while my glass is attached to my lips. “I haven’t seen you before, is this your first time? Club Zone’s pretty cool compared to all the other clubs in downtown.” I nod, taking a big gulp of the drink and setting it down. Why not pass time doing something other than sitting around while I wait for Johnny?

I go along with the conversation, “You can call me [Y/N]. This is my first time here, I needed a break from work and such. Jaehyun’s a cool name.” He lets out a lively laugh and takes a few sips of his drink, and much to my dismay, the pace of my heartbeat quickens. I’m not here to flirt, but maybe just a little won’t hurt, right? And I won’t let it get too far. Besides, this Zodiac special is safe. However, this Jaehyun person pushes his own beverage towards me.

“Try it, if you’d like. Have you had one of these? This club’s got the best bartenders and drinks.” Hesitantly, I take the class and bring it closer to my nose to smell it. Well, I am at a club. With the drink in hand, I tilt my head back a bit, letting the cool sting travel down my throat. It burns a lot, a sensation that feels like new. I hand the remaining amount back to him, thanking him. “Good? You took in a lot.” Damn that eye smile and grin. It’s been a while since I’ve felt mesmerized by someone, but maybe it’s just the Manhattan hitting.

Noticing I’m facing him fully, I shift in my seat and go back to my own drink. “Yeah, I’m fine.” In reality, whatever the bartender put into glass is strong. I can feel the fuzzy feeling travel down my throat and spread throughout my body, a bit of a buzz in my head. “What about you, what brings you here?” I ask the man who looks to be inching closer to me, his shoulder almost touching mine. If he tries anything, he won’t be having a great time after I sock him somewhere sensitive. “You’re all dressed up in a suit, too, are you into business?” Jaehyun shrugs, fiddling with a now empty glass, his eyes focused on mine a little too comfortably for me.

He pulls a card with his contact information on it and hands it to me which I take gingerly, flipping it over and back a few times. “Jeong Jaehyun. Real estate. Been dealing with a lot of shit people these days. Feel free to call me whenever, for business or,” he pauses, “things not related to real estate.” He asks the bartender for another drink, a Daiquiri this time, just as another man saunters over. He pokes lightly at my shoulder.

“Hey, let’s chat in the back, shall we?” The man eyes Jaehyun, but doesn’t pay any more attention, swiftly changing his focus back onto me. “You can bring your drink with.” I nod, assuming this man is Johnny and that I’d be okay with him. 

Standing up, I feel a bit dizzy, uncertain if from sitting down for so long or the drink that Jaehyun let me have some of. Johnny notices, steadying me by offering his arm which I hold onto. Before we commence our journey to wherever he’s taking me, Jaehyun nudges my side, winks at me, and says, “Have fun, you have my card.” He shoots a wide smile, his eyes trailing down my body as I walk away. Club Zone might have its perks.

▶ Ambience

Johnny and I reach the back which I assume are for private parties and, well, other private activities. The bass hits the walls hard as we enter an empty room. It’s now just Johnny and I, and though there’s less people, I can’t help but feel uneasy. We both take a seat opposite of each other, my sadly non-alcoholic drink starting to dwindle away. Beginning to sober up, I open up the discussion. “You’re Johnny, right?” Just making sure I have the right guy on my first mission, especially with Lucas on the line. I feel relief when he nods and shows me his ID card. Looks legitimate. Johnny Suh, 25 years old, from Chicago. So he was born in the western hemisphere that was destroyed back in 2094. Since I grew up there, it’s nice to meet someone else who would remember it. I wonder how he ended up here in Neostone. “Good, so Taeyong sent me to ask you about parts? I don’t know, I’m new to all of this. I don’t even know what to ask exactly.” Johnny softly chuckles at my predicament.

“Yong’s never had a messenger, he used to do everything himself. Makes me happy he’s got you to carry some work, hopefully you can adjust soon. You’re doing great so far.” His reassurance feels nice, knowing the kind of situation I’m stuck in. Johnny continues, “He can expect Lucas’s parts in a few days, probably in the middle of the week. I’m having Doyoung and Taeil deliver them directly to the clinic for the doctor dude.” I nod. Doyoung and Taeil. I have to remember these details for Taeyong. The way Johnny knows Lucas’s name makes me feel strange. How many people are in each of these gangs and how many know Lucas? They probably know him just as the prototype or cyborg which doesn’t sit right. Johnny’s then out of the blue poses a question that puzzles me. “Are you part of the Dragon Zodiac? Or from another group?” Undoubtedly, my confused face is my answer to him. “Ah, you’re some stranger then, huh. Well, Taeyong’s the leader of the Neostone Zodiac, the Dragons. They’re known for elemental manipulation.” Now hold on.

Without warning, I channel a more intense tone and volume, “For fuck’s sake, I keep learning new things each hour since I’ve met Taeyong. They can do what now?” Johnny bursts into laughter and tears, wiping them away though they seem to keep coming. He’s trying to explain, but it takes him a couple of minutes to finally recollect his composure. 

“Did you go into this not knowing anything? Lord, that man cracks me up. Anyways, sorry,” he starts, still dabbing his sleeve at his reddened cheeks where laughing tears stained. “Each megacity is represented by a Zodiac. I’m sure you’ve heard about the story of the twelve animals and some race, yeah? For example, I’m not from Neostone, but I work for the Horse Zodiac based in a city in South Korea, we’re known for enhanced stamina. You know, I made it to state back in high school for track. Almost to the national stage, but I got injured. Those were good times...” This man is so talkative, and I could not take in any more information, but he keeps going on some tangent about his track and field days. So in addition to my best friend completely turning into a cyborg that I have to help out with, I’m also up against others with super powers? The more this progresses, the more I believe I’m living in a superhero comic or film. There’s no way this is all real, maybe he’s just pulling my leg. Johnny continues to detail the whole Zodiac concept. “The Dragon Zodiac is one of the special collectives. Taeyong is kind of like... a metal bender, if you think about it. But he can’t go toppling whole buildings or whatever, their power is pretty limited.”

That must be why his work with Lucas’s arm is so sleek and seamless. He’s able to supernaturally work with metal apparently, but I’m not believing Johnny’s words until I see these supposed abilities for myself. Johnny stares at me, waiting for me to say something, so I do. “Thank you, I’ll tell Taeyong this.” This is all I say. Propelling myself off the chair, Johnny provides me a bottle of water and offers to escort me out through the busy club. Nodding in approval, we take off and out of the back and into the noisiness of the Club Zone. Taking sips of water every now and then helps to recuperate from the fuzziness that Manhattan drink dealt. Speaking of Manhattan, the darkened eyes of the man from earlier lock onto mine, watching me leave with Johnny at my side with a smug smile on his face. Jaehyun stands still with his back against the wall, away from all the activity of dancing and drinking taking place where the other DJ does his job.

Johnny leans down towards me and warns me, “That’s Jaehyun. He’s the Ox Zodiac leader. Might be pretty, but don’t get caught up with him.” The comment leaves me curious, and a bit annoyed. You’re telling me that gorgeous man can’t be messed with? I’ll bring this up with Taeyong and see what kind of dirt is on Jaehyun. I quietly thank Johnny for guiding me as he lets go of my arm at the entrance of the building. He bids me safe travels and turns, seemingly eager to get back to DJ’ing. The guy seems nice, way more entertaining and easy to approach than the damn doctor. Club Zone just might be a new spot for me to frequent. Before I push through the doors to exit, I steal a glance from Jaehyun who’s still looking at me. I’m definitely coming back.

▶ Ambience

2:30am. I arrive at Taeyong’s apartment, knocking instead of breaking in. The door opens revealing the doctor who appears to have showered, the strong scent of mint pouring into the hallway and the blonde strands sticking in generous clumps to his foreheads. Kind of... cute. “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. At least, not this early.” I take it back. What a way to greet someone. He ushers me in, closing the door behind me. Looking around, I note that Lucas isn’t here, and I look at Taeyong for answers. He reads me well, reporting that he sent Lucas home around midnight to get some sleep. “Lucas didn’t seem too well, probably from lack of sleep. Very worried, like a puppy that can’t stand being away from its owner. Should let him be more often.” I hate that he’s right, but I brush off the comment and take a seat, this time on the comfier and nicer sofa. Taeyong sits across. “So, information. Spill.” Jumping on information already, not even asking if I made it back alright and everything went smoothly-- who does he think he is?

Establishing my perplexity with his attitude, I passive aggressively begin with, “I met Johnny who’s very nice compared to you and explained way more than you did, without a gun or anything.” He rubs the back of his neck which tells me he may regret all that he pulled earlier on me. Or that he doesn’t care and wants to get straight to the information. “Anyways, Do... Doyoung? Along with Taeil will be delivering the shipment sometime, possibly in the middle of, this week. Straight to clinic.” Taeyong nods with the details given to me by Johnny. Maybe I’ll stay quiet about my encounter with Jaehyun since Johnny said not to meddle with him. After I finish my piece, he ponders, his brows knitting together. Is it not enough for him? I’ve given him what he wants. I just need to get home and make sure Lucas is okay.

“Very good except... did you ask about the next rave.”

I fucking loathe him each time he opens that mouth.

“No. Because it’s not important, next. Let me go home.” My arms fold across my chest, an eye roll to top it off. Taeyong chortles at my annoyance.

He gets up, still laughing, and picks up a set of car keys from off the wall near the door. “Easy, easy. Come on, I’ll drive you back home.”

▶ Ambience

Part of me still is fuming over Taeyong’s demeanor, but I’m also thankful for him driving me back to the complex. The rain starts to hit hard against the windows. I’d rather not get soaked after an already wild and mostly upsetting night. The ride is silent for a few minutes until he breaks it. “Hey, I know we’re off to a bad start, but you’re working for me now.” Held me a gunpoint. “As your boss, I’ll be protecting you as I need someone to help divvy up my project, even just for information gathering, so you don’t need to worry about me hurting you anymore.” Bruised my jaw earlier. “All you need to do is follow my orders and you’ll be fine.” Put responsibility for Lucas’s possible promotion to be taken away on me. Aren’t doctors supposed to have compassion and be kind? Whatever his words were, they went in one ear and out the ear because I don’t want to hear him talk anymore. He pulls into a spot and parks against the sidewalk close to the complex entrance, but I needed to hear an apology from him. If we’re working together, I need him to know my boundaries and to treat me with respect. The windshield wipers are the only thing we could hear for a moment until Taeyong reaches into the back. What in the world could he be pulling out? A gun again? My heart races for a few seconds, but calms down after seeing a familiar red box with a cross on it. A medicine kit. He sets it onto his lap, opening it up to reveal the usual items that come with it. Taeyong picks up the instant ice pack, shakes it a few times waiting for it to feel cold in his hands, and hands it to me. I stare at him in disbelief. “Nice bruise.” He points to his jaw in the spot where my bruise is, and I feel at my own face to mirror him. He laughs, a painful ring in my ears to hear him mocking me. “Take care and see you at the clinic on Monday.”

Exiting the car, I hold the ice pack to my bruise, the sting of the coldness causing me to wince. You’re so pathetic, I say to myself. That wasn’t the kind of apology I wanted, if it was even one, but the tiredness is starting to take over me. Before to entering the complex, I peek over my shoulder to see Taeyong still parked, watching me head inside. Sticking my tongue out in displeasure with all he’s done, I put up a quick middle finger and rush inside. He’s probably roaring his ass off in laughter inside his car, but it’s no longer something I’ll pay mind to. My priority is Lucas.

▶ Ambience

Without hesitation, I enter Lucas’s small apartment through the door that’s ajar, and I find him twiddling his thumbs at the table with nervousness riddling his expression. Has he been waiting for me? I reposition the ice pack still on my bruise. “Hi, Lucas, sorry if you were staying up for me.” I reassure him, seeing his shoulders drop and some color rise back in his face. He raises a brow, and I know he’s about to ask about the unpleasant-looking violet blooming along my jaw. “I’m okay, he didn’t do anything else. I told him all the information and he drove me home.” He sighs in relief, stands, and opens up his arms, the good old bear hug whenever something goes down. Embracing him, the familiar sense of comfort washes over me, my lids wavering as the need to be in bed becomes stronger.

“It’s a been a long night, hasn’t it? We both should sleep in a little. Let’s go to Electric Egg later this morning for brunch. 11:30? Sicheng’s working then, too.” I sleepily nod, pushing him away a little to leave for my room. He asks another question, one that fills me with dread, “How do you feel about Taeyong?” I keep my lips shut. “He’s not a bad guy, I promise. Just give him time.” I wonder how long he’s been keeping this from me. If it’s only recent, I can feel somewhat better. If not, then this whole time, he’s been secretive about this and working with Taeyong, that evil man. Though feeling betrayed, I think I can trust him with Lucas. Since all I’m doing is gathering information, this compromise shouldn’t be difficult to carry out. Talk to people, report the details, and repeat. As long as it doesn’t involve harming others, everything will be fine.

A weak smile occupies my face, my head beginning to feel heavy in addition to the rest of me. “As long as you’re okay, I’ll be alright with him. We just have to play along with Taeyong and see what happens next. But I won’t let him hurt you, or me.” Lucas, satisfied with my answer, pushes me out the door with a loud laugh and bids me a good night. I quickly do the same before closing his door and drift over to my own room. After a quick wash and stretch, I sit at the edge of the bed and scan the crumpled paper with all of Taeyong’s information from Pearl Park. My thumbs try to smooth out the wrinkles as much as possible to make it clearer. He’s annoyingly admirable. A very intelligent doctor who’s got a charm to him, plus supposedly a superpower, and can get whatever he wants-- one of those things being my best friend-- is unfair. I look over to the now squishy, melted ice pack on my night stand. He’s not a bad guy. I want to believe Lucas. He’s been in more contact with Taeyong than I have. If he says so, then I should let it be, like Taeyong said. I turn over the document which I did not notice before, probably because I was rushing to get out of the storage room. It’s a list of what I think are names, neatly written in small cursive. Going down it, these names don’t seem familiar which I assume because the document is from an older year. Midway through the list, I abruptly freeze at a name that makes my blood stop, my body ice cold:

Jeong Jaehyun.

[enthusiasticsobrietyabuse]

Parent Manipulation Part 1 - Originally posted in 2005 OnTheEmmis.com, a Meehan Program Survivor Website and Discussion Forum. (ICECAP is the former incorporation of enthusiastic sobriety programs, it has since dissolved due to the effectiveness of OnTheEmmis.com)

Part of ICECAP’s selling point is just HOW unorthodox they are. Counselors are trained to peddle the ‘shock’ value of a non-traditional program. It makes sense to many parents, because they see the professional community pathetically limping in the dust of young drug addicts in America today. Then they see ICECAP. Within its walls are dozens of young souls who are just absolutely ecstatic about being there. Where else is this happening in the world of rehab? While I am sure these places exist, my experience has been that they are few and far between.

ICECAP milks that point to no end. On the surface, I can see it being very difficult to deny that any ICECAP facility is producing some kind of positive results. Desperate and nearly to the point of hopelessness, many parents are willing to cloud their better judgment for the sake of something…ANYTHING that will help their children recover from their current nightmares. To these parents, ICECAP is a godsend. They see something different…that is apparently working, and they submit to the fever of potential miracles.

Even the skeptical parent will have a hard time denying the lure of ICECAP. Eventually they become involved with the parent group, and there they meet average Joe Dad and Jane Mom, who are just like them and are saying all these wonderful things about ICECAP. All the red flags are carefully lowered and the cautious and suspicious parents are disarmed through a process that involves the meticulous coordination of staff/parent group/younger group/client and then finally parent…though not always in that order. They have an answer for everything…from the late nights and no school, to the smoking and irresponsible lifestyle. All the answers make sense and seem so logical…

If I may, I would like to take some (a lot of) posting space to poke some holes in this seemingly infallible construction of moral high ground and loving happiness that ICECAP claims to be delivering from.

To begin, ICECAP is in fact extremely attractive. Not just because of the reasons I pointed out above, but for many reasons. Walk down the hall and through the doors of an ICECAP meeting. What do you see? A bunch of cool guys wearing slick clothes, hot girls adorned in the latest fads that the mall has to offer, rock star counselors and smiling suburban parents. Wow.

What you don’t see is the ugly sight of a genuine crack head detoxing. You don’t see the sickness of heroin withdrawal, or the brutality of the world that real addiction and drug abuse/alcoholism has to reveal. Rarely, if ever, will you find in ICECAP the wild madness and insanity that drug addiction has to offer humanity. When these unfortunates do happen to stumble through ICECAP’s door, they almost invariably do not recover there. I know, because I have seen it, but more on that later.

I find it interesting that ICECAP targets white middle/upper middle class families almost exclusively. There is absolutely no effort by ICECAP to reach beyond this demographic at all. Why? When you think about it, wouldn’t someone who comes from the depraved background that Meehan claims to come from be at least slightly interested in helping those whose stories are more like his? How many ICECAP clients are repeated felons, heroin junkies, or murderers? Almost none of them are. In my opinion, this set up is the first element of being disarmed that a parent encounters.

What wealthy, or semi wealthy parent wants their kid in a place where a bunch of ex-violent criminals hang out at? My guess is that when presented with the ICECAP pitch, which at nearly every ICECAP facility includes the line about how they do not accept insurance; your average suburban upper tax-bracket parent takes a silent sigh of relief. If they don’t accept insurance, then they know that the place does not harbor certain ‘undesirables’, because those types of people would never be able to afford ICECAP treatment. In that there is a certain mutual agreement of ‘silence’ going on between the parent and ICECAP. ‘We won’t ask why this facility is full of white suburban kids as long as you keep my kid around safe white suburban kids’.

That would be fine except for one thing: the reason there are so many ‘attractive’ kids from well-off families in ICECAP is because ICECAP primarily does not target true drug addicts. If they did, you would certainly see more of those ‘ugly’ cases that I mentioned above. The truth is; ICECAP primarily targets kids who have quite commonly and naturally stumbled into experimentation with mind altering substances. Left to their own devices, I am of the opinion that most of the kids that become involved in ICECAP would have gone through their adolescence just fine, despite some dabbling in the drug and alcohol culture.

I realize that it may sound as though I am condoning the use of drugs and alcohol by adolescents to some extent. Believe me; I know there are kids out there, even particularly young ones; that need some sort of intervention and rehabilitation when it comes to drugs and alcohol. However, there are few of those kids in ICECAP.

To put what I am saying into perspective, let me share with you an experience I had when I was 15.

I was at a party full of teens from my high school. There were perhaps 50-60 kids at this get-together. Every one of them were drinking and/or smoking pot, many of them were participating in sexual activities, and every single one of them WANTED to and was trying to do all of the above. This was not a party exclusively for ‘dope fiends’ or ‘freaks’ or anything like that. Most of the kids at this shindig were truly just your average high school teens, and many of them were at an identical party just a week before. Many of them would be at an identical party the next week.

Tell me, what seems to make more sense to you: That EVERY ONE of these kids was in need of being yanked out of school and subjected to an outpatient rehabilitation facility, or that they were for the most part kids being kids? I can’t say that I’ve kept up with each of those teens at that party, but I find it really hard to believe that they are every one of them sitting in gutters right now with needles hanging out of their arms.

The truth is that almost NO PARENT likes the idea that THEIR kid is in fact one of those kids at that party. However unfortunate it may be, chances are your kid IS one of those kids. ICECAP knows this, and knows it well.

The truth is that as far as ICECAP is concerned, every single one of those kids at that party IS fit for and IN NEED of their $6,000 outpatient program.

Of the 50-60 kids that were at that particular party, each one of them has one of two kinds of parents that could potentially find themselves in an ICECAP intervention: The ‘worried sick and hopeless parent’, and the ‘clueless’ parent. ICECAP has a brilliant line for both of these types of encounters.

For the worried sick and hopeless parent, they are already full of fear; so that is one obstacle that the given ICECAP counselor does not have to overcome, and can proceed directly to its exploitation. After meeting for over an hour with their child, the counselor then asks the parent/parents to then sit down with him, without the child. They are usually first presented with the structure of ‘enthusiastic sobriety’, and then carefully guided through the counselor’s ‘diagnosis’ of the child, at which point the fear they walked in with is thoroughly taken advantage of. He tells them, ‘first of all, to what extent you THINK your child is using, you can safely double or triple that. Your son/daughter has been for quite some time falling into the pitfalls of a very attractive and powerful drug and alcohol counter culture. It is nearly impossible to wrench young people today from the grip of this diseased phenomenon once they are into it to the extent that your child is. I know this because…’ At which point the counselor shares a true or untrue account of his own experiences with drugs and the drug culture. By the time he is finished, thanks to all of that plus clever little catch-phrases such as ‘true, Billy/Jenny may not be shooting heroin today, but at his/her rate of progression, you can bet on that nightmare down the road’ the parent has gone from being terrified to utterly mortified. The hook has been cast at this point, and it is here that the counselor begins to discuss the ‘solution’.

A recap of how brilliantly ‘enthusiastic sobriety’ competes with this vaunted ‘counter culture’ is usually in order here, followed by a description of outpatient. Another testimony by the counselor involving his own experience with IOP is conveyed, and then the cost.

If the parent is reluctant, or can’t afford it, emotional blackmailing goes into overdrive here, and is perhaps the most insidious aspect of the ‘intervention’. The parent/parents is told in so many words that their son/daughter will DIE if they do not get the ‘intensive level’ of ‘necessary treatment’ that outpatient provides, that the support group alone cannot hope to accomplish.

If the parent continues to flounder after this underhanded attempt to ‘guilt’ them into paying for IOP, then the counselor will usually back down and explain that while he feels the support group (just meetings and functions) is at this point a ‘disservice’ to the child, if that is all they can do then that’s the route they’ll go. He convinces the parent to attend parent meetings and functions rigorously for at least 30 days (same commitment as the kid), and thanks them for their time.

None of this ends here, of course. After the parent has left, this is what a ‘good’ counselor does:

He offers the name of the parent to either the ‘parent coordinator’ or a trusted parent on steering committee. He tells them that he felt as though the kid really needed IOP, but Mom/Dad couldn’t afford it or was skeptical of the idea, and that he would like this ICECAP parent to ‘work on them’. As the ‘intervention’ parent continues to attend parent meetings, they are relentlessly pushed by other parents at the direction of the parent coordinator to figure out a way to get their son/daughter into IOP.

Meanwhile, the kid is going to meetings and being told by other kids that he/she should go into IOP…that it is the ‘coolest’, and you really get the ‘gnarly’ shit about the group in IOP. This will turn from innocent prodding to downright peer pressure very quickly, and eventually the kid is going home and asking, sometimes begging mom/dad to get them in IOP.

If by now the parent is still not willing to do the $6,000 dollar shuffle, what usually occurs is sad and much of what continues to anger me about ICECAP’s tactics. The counselor will keep tabs with the parent, keeping them updated and developing a ‘relationship’ with the parent. Often, this is what goes down: The kid feels so much pressure from both staff and peers to attend IOP that he/she will quickly realize (usually with the help of the counselor), the reasons why he/she cannot go. Kids aren’t stupid, and Billy knows that either mom doesn’t think his problem is serious enough, or she just isn’t willing to call up grandpa for the dough. So he goes out and gets high one night.

The counselor, of course is ALL OVER THIS ‘relapse’, and schedules an appointment immediately with the family. After 30 minutes of what pretty much amounts to ‘I told ya so’ from the counselor, the parent takes out a second mortgage or calls up grandpa or takes out a line of credit and coughs up the $6,000 for outpatient.

ICECAP staff would argue that these are merely ‘imperative measures’ to take in order to ‘help this kid get better’, to ‘save his/her life’. I argue that this is a carefully constructed sequence of manipulation to paint a false picture of a fairly normal kid as a ‘dope fiend’ in order to sucker well-off families out of six grand.

The ‘clueless’ parent is dealt with in almost the same way, except the counselor must first instill the fear into the parents who have ‘no idea’ that their kid is so ‘sucked in to the world of drug and alcohol abuse’.

I challenge anyone to tell me the story of the family who was told: ‘Your kid really doesn’t have much of an issue. He/she could probably be a bit wiser about what friends they choose, maybe come to some meetings and see a more positive lifestyle…but really they don’t need intensive treatment from us…’ by ICECAP.

The only instance that I can think of in the ten years I was involved with ICECAP, was that of a young man who convincingly conveyed to everyone that he truly was a non-abuser, and that he simply went to a meeting to see a friend. IOP was not pushed on to this kid or his family, but being on staff at the time, I can tell you that the idea to somehow worm this kid into treatment was definitely kicked around.

I went into this aspect of ICECAP as the first part to a series about the structure of ICECAP and its functions. The intent is to provide sound knowledge and information to potential or current clients of ICECAP. The reason I wanted to expose this particular area of ICECAP’s doctrine first is because I believe that there are more clients there who fall into this school of thought than any other. These are the kids who aren’t quite ‘non-abusers’ as ICECAP would like to call them, but certainly aren’t ‘dope fiends’ as ICECAP would have you believe.

Next I intend to focus on the consequences of these manipulative tactics. Where’s the harm? If they never are at one of those high school parties ever again and spend the next two to five years of their lives steeped in the principals of love, patience and understanding…then what’s so bad about it?

PLENTY.

To be continued…

[thinkyoureholy]

Fragile Figures [8]

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Pairing : Choi San / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Mafia!AU, Hired Assassin! AU

Words : 3.1k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12.

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-San's P.O.V-

I walked into the house, not surprised to see all the lights were off. I had stayed out after finishing that job and my encounter with Kanda. I couldn't find it in myself to move from where I was after he left. Only when the rain stopped did I finally notice how long I had been out there for. I sighed heavily, leaning my back against the door. I began sliding down it when the lights suddenly turned on. I looked to see Yunho leaning against the wall by the light switch. Just seeing him had me clenching my jaw as I straightened out.

"That simple job took you a long time don't you think?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, "What's it to you how long I take?"

"Oh don't get me wrong I don't care how long you take, in fact I'd prefer you not come back at all," He explained, pushing himself off the wall.

"Just get on with what you want to say and leave me alone. I'm not in the mood for you right now," I spat as I pushed off the door and made my way over to the couch but he stopped me before I could get there.

I looked down at the hand he had on my chest. I set my jaw as I shoved his hand away from me none to gently, "I said I'm not in the fucking mood."

An annoyed look crossed his features, "Fine, since you're not in the mood I'll get straight to the point. How much is it going to take for you to leave and never come back?"

My body relaxed at his words, surprise clear on my face as I stared at him wide eyed, "What?"

"How much? I'm willing to give you whatever you ask for as long as I can get you to leave."

I continued to stare at him for a moment longer before a dry and humorless chuckle fell from my lips, "Why is it that you people are always trying to offer me money-"

I cut myself off, rubbing a hand over my face before combing my fingers through my still wet hair, "You can keep your fucking money, Yunho. I'm not leaving...and I'm not planning to leave any time soon so you're going to have to get used to seeing my face everyday."

"Why the hell do you even want me gone so badly? Afraid I'll take Y/N from you before she even has the chance to be yours?" 

He flinched at my words as he clenched his fists at his side. I gave him a smirk, riling him up with just a simple look. Okay I'll admit I was just trying to pick a fight. I was still annoyed over seeing Kanda and now with Yunho here I felt like I could take my frustration out on him...and he looked like he had the same idea as he shoved at my chest roughly. I poked at the inside of my cheek with my tongue, discarding my jacket before I landed the first punch to his jaw.

Yunho stumbled back, shock crossing his features for a moment before he swung back, his fist barely grazing my jaw as I leaned back, dodging the punch. He seemed annoyed by missing as he swung once more but instead of going high he went low, punching at my stomach. I groaned low in my throat, the air being knocked out of me. Without warning he tackled me to the ground, the two of us rolling around to try and be the one that lands on top but Yunho beat me on that end. He grabbed at my collar tightly, lifting my head off the ground before he punched me square in the jaw, paying me back for the punch  I gave him earlier. I groaned as his fist made contact with my face more than once but he only got three hits in before I kicked him off of me. He landed on his back with a loud thud. I scrambled to get to my feet before he did, rushing at him just as he was starting to push himself up. I kicked his arms out from under him, a low cry falling from his lips as he clutched his arm close to his chest. I stood over him, breathing heavily, my heart beating so loud I could hear it in my ears. And just before I could hear that tiny voice in the back of my head telling me to stop this before I went too far I bent down and clutched onto his shirt, lifting him off the ground just enough so I didn’t have to bend down all the way. I stared at his face for a moment, seeing the hate swirling around in his eyes before delivering a blow to his face. Yunho wasn’t weak by any means but tonight I was just better. My frustration had turned into anger the longer this fight went on. Without knowing I was delivering blow after blow to Yunho’s face long after he stopped struggling, his arms limp at his side, barely conscious. I only came to when I felt multiple arms on mine, pulling me back and away from Yunho who lay on the floor, his face covered in blood.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Hongjoong yelled, grabbing onto my collar as he pushed me back, Jongho and Seonghwa both holding onto my arms.

I didn’t answer him, my eyes glued to Yunho as I panted heavily.

“Yunho? Yunho stay with me...Yun come on keep your eyes open,” 

I watched as Y/N knelt down beside Yunho, her hands gingerly cupping his face as she looked over his wounds. I could see her shoulders stiffen as well as her jaw set.

“Take him to the infirmary, now.”

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I stayed kneeling on the floor as I watched Mingi drag Yunho over to the infirmary, Yeosang following closely behind them. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to reel in my anger but it wasn’t working. I swallowed harshly before getting up, making my way over to where San was with the others. I placed a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, silently telling him to move. When he did I just stood there looking at San for a second, trying to figure out what caused him to do this but his eyes weren’t giving anything away. His eyes looked devoid of any emotion and any other day I’d be concerned but today all I wanted to know is why he was suddenly attacking Yunho. It was no secret that the two of them didn’t really get along but they had never tried getting physical with one another...until tonight.

Without a word I grabbed onto his arm roughly, dragging him along with me as I led us upstairs. He followed behind without much complaint, keeping quiet. Once we made it outside of my office, I opened the door and pushed him inside, watching him trip over his own two feet. I slammed the door behind me, trying and failing once again to keep my anger under control.

“I’m going to give you the chance to explain yourself first.” I sighed out, giving him a chance to crawl out of the hole he dug himself into.

But he didn’t say anything, he just kept quiet. I grit my teeth as the seconds turned into minutes, hoping he would explain himself. I wanted to hear why he did what he did but he was only giving me silence. He even refused to meet my gaze as I went to stand in front of him.

“San? Tell me-”

“Will it change anything if I did? Will it change the way you’re looking at me right now if I told you why I did that to Yunho?” He asked, his voice barely audible but I was able to hear him loud and clear.

I raised a brow, reaching out to him without thinking but he took a step back, shrinking away from my touch. Okay now I was worried. I was still angry over what he did to Yunho but now I was worried...what’s going on? He seemed like a totally different person than the San I had talked to just this morning. This morning he was so lively, his smile had finally reached his eyes but now...now he even seemed dead on the inside. The look in his eyes is what finally broke me. He looked like a lost child, the emotions swirling around in those dark brown orbs of his tugged at my heart strings.

“San just--just talk to me. I...I’m not angry I just...I just want to know why you did what you did, okay? I promise I won’t lash out I...I just need to know why you’re like this right now.”

He bowed his head, the wet strands of his blonde hair falling over his eyes. I watched silently as he bit down on his bottom lip, opening his mouth to speak but before he could get a word out he closed it again. As the seconds ticked by I grew more confused and concerned. Just what the hell happened to him to make him like this.

“I...I have something to tell you…”

I waited patiently for him to continue, watching him silently as he gathered his thoughts.

“When I was out...Kanda came to see me.” 

I froze at hearing his name, my hands immediately clenching into fists at my sides. The anger that had all but vanished came back ten fold at just hearing his name. What the hell did he want? Why was he approaching San? The next thought that ran through my head had my blood run cold in my veins. How...how does San know what Kanda looks like?

“He offered me a job...to kill you…” He mumbled.

I inhaled shakily at his words, unconsciously taking a step back, “And what did you say?”

He let out a chuckle but it was dry, unlike the many other times I had heard him chuckle before, this one was cold, “I told him I’d kill him myself if he ever gave me your name again.”

I couldn’t feel relieved just yet. I...I had to know what kind of relationship he and Kanda used to have.

“San...h-how do you know Kanda?”

“I met him four years ago. I was in a tough spot...and he helped me out. He helped me get on my own two feet and trained me to be the killer I am today. Naturally after I became good enough and was able to keep myself afloat I left, going out into the world to make a name for myself. That was two years ago…” He trailed off, bowing his head once more, “And I hadn’t seen him since...until tonight.”

-San’s P.O.V-

I stared at the floor underneath my feet, waiting for her to say something. At first I thought keeping the fact that I knew Kanda a secret would be best but then I realized it would be best for her to find out as soon as possible. I wanted to be the one that told her before she found out from someone else. But the silence that enveloped us was making me think I should have just kept my mouth shut. Not only did I fuck up by beating Yunho to a pulp I fucked up beyond repair by keeping such a big secret from her. 

The longer she kept quiet the more I wanted to just crawl into a ditch and disappear. But I wanted to make that look in her eyes disappear. That look...I had seen it on so many different people, more often than I’d like. So many people had used me for their benefit and I let them, not really caring if they were using me or not but with her it was different, I was different. In the time that I had been here I had gradually felt my stone heart soften...and it was all because of her. Sure at first she treated me only as a tool to do her bidding but it didn’t take long for her to treat me like an actual human being. Y/N was the warmth I had been searching for and I didn’t want to lose that warmth, I didn’t want to lose her. Some will say I’m moving too fast and sure at first it was all just superficial attraction but now, now it was so much more. I hadn’t noticed at first but I’m smiling more, laughing more, joking more...and it was all because of her. 

“Y/N...say something please…” I all but begged her, taking a step towards her only to have her take one back.

She put out a hand in front of her, stopping me from going any further. I watched her with a frown, seeing the cogs in her head turning as she tried to process all I had told her. I could see how betrayed she felt at knowing that I had kept all of this from her.

“Y/N-”

“Shut up. Just--shut the fuck up for a minute alright?” She asked rhetorically, her tone of voice harsh.

But I did as she asked, taking a step back as I watched her silently try to figure everything out in her head. I know if she lets me stay things between us will be different but at this point I didn’t care. I just wanted her to know I didn’t lie to her because I had ulterior motives...I just didn’t want her to hate me. I bowed my head once more as I waited for her to speak. 

My bloodied hands caught my eyes, the torn skin red and angry as it stared back at me. I don’t know if the blood that coated my knuckles was Yunho’s or mine but I’m sure it was a mix of both. Truthfully I did go overboard with Yunho but not only was I frustrated and annoyed over my meeting with Kanda but the jealousy I felt towards Yunho reared its ugly head the moment I saw him. And as soon as I was pushed far enough I couldn’t find it in myself to hold back.

“So this whole time you knew Kanda...how--how do I know you haven’t been reporting everything you see and hear back to him? How do I know you haven’t already betrayed me?” She paused for a moment, her lips trembling as her voice broke ever so slightly, “How do I know all those words...all those sweet words you said to me, all those feelings you have for me--how do I know you even meant any of them?”

I looked back up at her quickly, already shaking my head vigorously before I got my mouth to work, “I meant everything I ever said to you. I may have had bad intentions at first but please, believe me when I tell you the feelings I have for you are real. Y/N you make me happy, truly happy. I’ve never felt this way before and I...I swear to you I’ve never betrayed you,” I paused to gauge her reaction but she kept her face blank, “ And... I swear I’d never betray you like that, especially after knowing what that bastard did to you. I hadn’t seen Kanda in two years and tonight was the first time I had contact with him. Y/N, I swear on my life I cut my ties with Kanda years ago and I would never, never do what Kanda did to you.”

She had an unreadable expression on her face as she listened to me intently but she didn’t utter a word, even after I was done with my rambling, it was nerve wracking. 

“Y/N, please, believe me.”

She remained silent for another second or so before she finally spoke and the words she finally uttered broke my heart into a million little pieces.

“Get out. I don’t want to see your face until I call for you, do you understand me?” 

I went to take a step towards her to beg her not to do this but the look she had in her eyes stopped me. Her eyes had glossed over, the tears seconds away from falling but she kept them at bay.

“San...get out...please. I need some time to myself...to think…” She let out in a voice barely above a whisper, as if trying to keep it from breaking but it broke all the same, along with the remnants of my heart.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I refused to make eye contact after repeating myself to San. I knew if I looked at him for any longer I’d crack. I needed some time to myself to figure everything out. There was the problem of him beating up Yunho for what is still an unclear reason to me but now I had to deal with something much bigger. Even though he swore to me he cut all ties to Kanda I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Kanda had absolutely destroyed my trust four years ago and it had been hard for me to trust others and the one time I decided to listen to my heart over my head it backfires. I should’ve known. I should’ve never listened to Seonghwa about letting myself feel once again. I should’ve kept myself guarded...it would’ve hurt less.

While I was stuck in my head I vaguely heard the door close and when it did I finally allowed myself to sink to the floor. I had kept myself upright the whole time San was talking but the longer he talked the more I felt my legs grow weaker and weaker until it took everything in me to keep standing. Now on the floor I brought my knees up to my chest, figuratively and literally holding myself together as I felt the first of many tears fall from my eyes.

I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to hate him but I...I just couldn’t. I was more heartbroken than anything else. Falling from a second story window hurt less than the pain I was feeling in my chest. But even if I was in pain, even if I was crying my eyes out right now...all I wanted was to hide myself in his arms...even when he’s the reason I feel like this.

“Choi San...I hate--I hate that I-" I cut myself off, burying my face in my hands.

[bigskydreaming]

You ever worry about hearing one side of a story that's been taken out of context and twisted to fit op's narrative, about something you don't have firsthand knowledge about? On tumblr this is a fear I have. Imagine if I'm in some isolated corner learning half truths about some real person who op has personal vendetta against, but I only know their version so I end up hating that person's guts for years? Some isolated Tim fan hating Dick because they only know him through lies?

Yeah, this is an understandable concern to have, especially on tumblr where misinformation can run rampant at times - it happens with everything from fictional characters, celebrities, other posters, etc. 

Personally, I tend to go with the ‘trust but verify’ approach. You hear something about someone from a friend, or you see something reblogged from a person you’ve followed for years.....looking into the situation they described yourself, as much as you can, doesn’t necessarily mean that you think they’re lying about it, its just....context is SO SO key, to so many different conversations. 

And the thing about context, especially situational context, is its only defined by our personal experiences, thoughts and worldview. Basically I just mean the context for some hearsay you’ve heard secondhand could look totally different to you than it does to someone else, because the context is really just your own personal frame of reference to whatever was said or happened. Its how it looks to you from a perspective or angle you’re already at or are familiar with.

So someone can describe a situation to you but have a totally different interpretation than you get when looking into it yourself, and there doesn’t have to be malicious intent involved for that to happen......the exact same dot on the horizon is going to look different to two different people who are viewing it from different angles, y’know? Where we’re coming from or standing at when we look at a situation often has as much to do with how we interpret it, as the facts of the situation itself.

Which means there’s no real easy answer to a problem like this, because it varies so much from person to person....but the one thing I think can always be said to be true of everyone no matter the situation.......its FAR more beneficial to get more familiar with asking questions than accepting answers.

Questions, after all, whether voiced to someone else or just to ourselves as our reason for looking deeper into a matter.....are ultimately just a request for more information. And a different perspective.....one that DOESN’T come naturally to you, and thus you have to hear from someone else to even kinda conceptualize it because its far enough out of your personal frame of reference you wouldn’t connect those dots without an objective viewpoint unhindered by your own natural biases to kinda....point you to where to look.....

I’m just saying, different perspectives ARE more information. Often the most valuable or relevant information out there. 

So ultimately my advice for pretty much every situation similar to what you’re describing is.....making it more natural to you to ask questions about stuff, request MORE information before making up your OWN mind, than just...accepting one single perspective the first time you see it and assuming it knows what its talking about because of the sole fact that you haven’t seen or heard a contrary viewpoint.

Because that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there....just that the person delivering their version of the facts to you isn’t likely to provide them, and if nobody else is stepping up in your vicinity to provide an alternative viewpoint......that just means you might have to go looking for it.

Personally, I’m of the opinion that exposing yourself to viewpoints even radically opposite what you initially believe on a subject is a good thing, because then you have two different ends of a spectrum you can compare and contrast at MULTIPLE points to see just where on that spectrum you and your frame of reference land, the spot that once you look back and forth, you think is most supported by facts rather than conjecture or opinion or bias.

(Note: this does NOT by any means mean that that point is always going to be in the center of two opinions. Not every subject has a middle ground or SHOULD have a middle ground. There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t end up landing on one of the two most polarizing viewpoints on that spectrum of possible interpretations, if that’s the one you ultimately feel is right. A LOT of people default to assuming that the most reasonable position is somewhere in the middle of two extremes, but that’s like.....not at all innately true. Given that the very nature of things being EXTREMES, as in, the outermost edge of interpretations or possibilities......literally means its entirely possible that one of those extremes is EXTREMELY BAD. And there is absolutely NOTHING to be gained by seeking a compromise or a middle ground between something EXTREMELY BAD and its polar opposite position....especially if you’re really only taking that middle ground because you’re afraid that taking the polar opposite stance will make you seem as unreasonable and single-minded as those taking the extremely bad position.)

*Shrugs*

Anyway, that’s my take on any situation that’s relevant to your broader question.

1) Ask more questions whenever possible (This doesn’t mean treat whoever brought something to your attention as your personal Ask Jeeves and act like that means they owe it to you to perform the functions of a search engine now. It literally just means ask more questions.....of the internet, of library books, of yourself and your personal sense of right and wrong and your own convictions....or of people you seek out when looking for other people who are already offering up their viewpoints on a matter as a resource).

2) Seek out opposing viewpoints (How can you truly know where you stand on a matter if you’re so uninformed on it you don’t even know what the opposition to that stance thinks and believes? How do you fight for something you’ve decided is a worthy cause to fight for, if you have zero clue what it is you’ve committed yourself to fighting against? You don’t - which is how we so often end up with people paying lip service to the idea of being allies, but then are nowhere to be found when the opposing viewpoint DOES come banging on the door).

3) Make up your own mind on matters and STAND by your convictions....while at the same time not cutting yourself off from being open to changing your mind if NEW information later comes to light. (This isn’t an easy tightrope to walk, but hey, who the fuck ever promised that being your own person was easy, y’know? But basically by this I just mean......don’t pattern your opinion or view on something by osmosis. Don’t just soak in and regurgitate what everyone around you is saying. Going against the grain on something, taking a stance that’s ‘controversial’ even in your friend group, like yeah that can be scary, but who’s to say there aren’t others around you who also hold that stance but are just too afraid to speak out on the matter for the same reasons you’re hesitating. 

Sometimes standing by your convictions means you end up standing alone and that can SUCK. But on the flipside, even when you’re the lone person standing there offering up a viewpoint different from everyone else in the vicinity....it can make it a lot easier for other people who hold similar views to SEE you and head in your direction, reach out and connect, allowing you to end up in groups and social circles where the others’ opinions are more in line with what you TRULY believe and feel and stand for.

Sometimes standing by your convictions means you can end up enacting a sea change.....if everyone is secretly holding a stance different from what’s being spoken aloud, just because they’re all afraid of being singled out as ‘against the group’......isn’t it a waste to think of all the HONEST conversations you could all have been having amongst each other the whole time if only someone had gone first, spoken up to say the things that everyone else had already been thinking? There’s no reason you can’t be that first.

And lastly, and most importantly IMO....sometimes standing by your convictions means you’re still just flat out wrong. *Shrugs* Sucks, but its a reality we all have to face. Being super passionate and sure you’re right about something isn’t actually a GUARANTEE that you’re right....

buuuuuuuut.....as long as you keep that in mind, keep being self-aware about that last bit, that ‘hey self, just FYI, I know you’re going superhard for this viewpoint right now, but just remember, we might end up eating a lot of fucking crow because we’re not actually omniscient and could have gotten this one wrong’.....

And then you COMBINE that awareness with a HABIT of always asking questions when first becoming aware of a new topic or situation, of making a note to self to get more information, more PERSPECTIVES, like.....building up that tendency like its a muscle you’re exercising, the more you do it, the easier it becomes, the more natural and ingrained.....

And then add to that just....not being afraid to test or challenge your OWN convictions or viewpoints once you think you’ve settled on one....being willing to pit your stance against even its extreme opposite and see if it actually holds up the way you think it does, or if the other side of things has points that can actually poke holes in what you had previously assumed was pretty solid....

Like, again, there’s no guarantees, nobody’s infallible, everyone gets SOMETHING wrong at some point in their lives and there’s no shame in that unless your reaction to that is to just double down on something you now know is wrong just because change is scary and the unknown intimidates you......

With all that said, personally, I still think that combination (ask a lot of questions, challenge your own convictions, and make up your own mind rather than just settle for whatever mindset seems ‘closest’).....like, IMO, keeping consistent with those three actions just as a general approach to things will serve you MUCH better in life than just taking the first thing you see or hear about a subject that’s new to you and assuming it to be true just because that’s the only view that was offered to you upfront.

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Ajax: Fidget Spinners XIII (FINAL FINaLLY)

            “Pax Two, how am I supposed to trust you as one of my spies if this is what you do when I call in a favor?”

         Pax squirmed.

         He was often uncertain whether or not Mercedes was joking. Her dark eyes tended to be a mask of seriousness, leading others to believe she had no sense of humor. Pax knew better. Or he thought he had.

         “What did I ask you to do?” she asked.

         They were standing in the last spot he’d seen her before going to Tartarus. As much as he tried to convince her and the others that Tartarus had been a picnic and that they should seriously consider the touristism possibilities, Luke’s amnesia and everyone’s injuries said otherwise. Once Pax was okayed to walk around the ship, he was immediately called into the spy barracks.

         “What did I ask you to do?” Mercedes asked. Her hair was swept back by a beige hijab today. Pax could see a pin poking out of the right side of the material and wondered if she’d put it on in a hurry. He loved teasing her when one of her pins—either the one on the upper side or the one at the base of her chin—was visible.

         Today was not a good day to tease her.

         “What did I ask you to do, Pax two?” she said again when he gave no response.

         After a few days bed rest, this was not the reception he had been expecting. He had hoped for balloon animals that he could pop them around the unsuspecting. That’s what Matthias would have given him. As far as Pax could tell, Matthias hadn’t been allowed to see him. No one had.

         Pax had been grounded. Why bother escaping your homicidal, psychopathic family if you’re just going to get grounded by a slightly less homicidal, psychopathic family? he mused.

         Today was also not a day to ask that question.

         “Why bother—” Pax started to say despite that conclusion. When he caught sight of Mercedes’ dark eyes, he looked down at his combat boots. “I never agreed not to go,” he said.

         The last few days of bed rest, he’d been working on something for her. He had it in his jacket pocket, making the whole thing bulge like the least conspicuous puppy smuggling. Pax twisted the fabric in his hands.

         “Lies are an intent to deceive, not just a statement of untruth. I will not work with someone who bases their interpretation of orders off technicalities, especially when they know those interpretations are erroneous, Ajax.”  

         Ajax. Not Pax Two. Not Pax. Now, Pax understood why Mercedes said to guard his name. He’d started to attach a mysticism to it and enjoyed thinking of when Alabaster would say it. Hearing her say it like that was a whip to the face.

         Pax wanted to say something. He wanted Mercedes to use her typical witticisms to tease him, to make him struggle to keep up with the conversation. He didn’t like her speaking this straight forward or with such a harsh tone.

         “I don’t mind your evasions and deceptions when matters are trivial, and I don’t mind when you do it to others. I, in fact, encourage you to become practiced with others. But, anytime it involves a mission or anytime it involves secret information you get from me, or anytime someone could die—”

         “Banana peels are prevalent on the ship,” Pax blurted, trying to keep his tone carefree. It came out a whisper and got quieter as he mumbled, “I could slip on one and die at any moment. Does that count?”

         There was silence in the spy barracks.

         Pax dared to glance up. He caught sight of Mercedes’ hand. It was curled into a fist and shaking. Otherwise, she was eerily still.

         Today, Pax realized, was a day to admit he had screwed up royally.

         “Luke—or someone who has been feeding his memories back to him—now suspects me of leaking information about his trip to Tartarus,” Mercedes said. Her clenched fingers eased.

         Pax almost choked. He looked up at her eyes. “Did he give you any?”

         “No, but he thinks I’ve been snooping through his files,” she said, giving Pax a look that implied he was supposed to get what that sentence meant.

         “But—but you wouldn’t use that information for evil—”

         She sighed. Pax remembered her saying that she had a lot of brothers. It was a sigh Axel often did around Pax. He wondered if it was an older sibling thing. “You and I know that Pax. I’m less worried about me. I’m worried about what they’ll find if they start going through surveillance footage.”

         Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. “My training. B-but, we did that to simulate field experience in a controlled environment.” His mind spun over the document’s he had pulled from the captain’s quarters. He was illiterate. It was guesswork. “You didn’t have me—”

         “No. You were mostly gathering receipts so we could figure out which brand Luke uses to get his hair that stiff. I figured I could use it as a good bargaining tool with Matthias,” she said, “Any idiot with ears and a pension for listening to gossip could put together Luke, Jack, and Axel were going on a covert mission to Hell.”

         And that same person could easily find out that Pax and Lou Ellen had gone after them. No wonder Alabaster had caught up to them so quickly. All Mercedes had to do was check up on Pax’s cabin, see his utility belt was gone, hear that Matthias and Alabaster hadn’t seen him or Lou Ellen, and she’d know where they went.  

         But, how could she think he wouldn’t go after his brother? She told him the when and where. That was basically like saying not to run after an ice cream truck when the ice cream was free and delivered with complimentary kittens.

         Pax remembered the two favors she’d use to assure he wouldn’t go anywhere. His indignation faltered. She’d nullified one of her favors by tapping his bell and used another to keep him here. She was right. If truth could be told through implications, so could untruth. He had lied to her. Pax often enjoyed jumping around the truth. He didn’t like outright lying.  

         “I’ll give you double the number of favors—” he said.

“Favors mean nothing if you prove not to honor them.” She placed her hands on her hips.

         That almost sent him to tears. Her hard stare might work as a Mortal Kombat finishing move. Pax swallowed, scared he might tear the hijab in his pocket if he gripped it any tighter.

         “You need to earn back my trust, Ajax. That doesn’t mean doing things you want to do anyway or following orders you would follow regardless. If you’ll try to have a brain, you’ll know it means the orders you don’t like too,” she said.

         There was a long silence. Between the heat in his cheeks and the wetness of his eyes, he wondered if he could mimic the climate of Belize in this room.

         She didn’t move. He wondered if she’d turn her back on him in an abrupt fashion. Instead, those dark eyes bore into him.

         Like she never wanted to see him again.

         Pax took a step closer to her. He swallowed again, knowing that bursting into tears would make things worse. That’s how it was with his Chiich, too.

         “M-Mercedes, please don’t make me go,” he whispered. “I’ll do anyth—”

         Pax liked being around Mercedes. He wanted to impress her and become her number one spy. He enjoyed her goofy drills, the wry humor she pretended not to have, her smile—she didn’t smile enough.

         Right now, he was the reason she wasn’t smiling. He wished he could burrow into a carnivorous rabbit’s hole as an offering to the gods of regret.

         He was shaking.

         “Mercedes…” Pax whispered. “I’m sorry…” There was no way out of this. He had messed up big time. Apologies weren’t enough. Maybe he really wasn’t suited to be her spy in a field where they would need to trust each other so much.

         Pax swallowed again, trying to look as adult as he could as the childish question came out of his lips. “Can I give you a hug?” he asked, taking a step forward. He couldn’t leave the room like that. Mercedes wasn’t just the spymaster. She was his friend. “Before I leave?”

         Mercedes flinched, making Pax flinch. She didn’t storm out or glare at him. The request choked her up for a moment. He’d taken another step, able to smell the coffee scent that clung to her hijab, before she could speak. “Don’t think you can melt my anger by being a worse parasite than usual.”

         The words should have been angry, but her tone wasn’t. It was cracking.

         Pax hugged her, wrapping his arms around her arms and waist. This was a friend he always wanted to hug, but never had. It felt weird doing it under these circumstances.

         She should have hit him or yelled at him. She didn’t hug him back. What she did was far worse.

         Pax could feel something wet splash onto his neck.

         She was crying.

         Pax had made Mercedes cry.[1] Sometimes, she acted so adult, he forgot she was only a year older than him. By going on a seeming suicide mission to Hades, he had made her worry. She really didn’t think he was going to go. Now, he felt worse, the guilt deepening into a drowning pool with each tear. “Mercedes,” he whispered into the material covering her neck. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure I never disappoint you again.”

         Mercedes tried to clear her throat. She bent her head slightly. “You’re a highly effective parasite,” she mumbled. “Don’t try to get yourself killed again. Unless I tell you to.”

         Pax nodded against the material.

         “Also…”

         She waited until he pulled back to look her in the face. The tears were gone, the only evidence a slight redness to her acne-flecked cheeks. Her gaze was hard. “Don’t hug me. Unless I tell you to.”

         Pax immediately let go and took two huge steps backwards. He should stop there. He knew it. But his mouth was already moving. “Will that ever happen?”

         “Ask me on a day that I don’t feel like throwing you overboard and the only thing restraining me isn’t paperwork,” she said, folding her arms.

         Pax nodded, taking another step backwards, recognizing that she was even angrier for crying in front of him. He had an older sister. He knew how that could go. “I’m going to go brainstorm ways to make this up to you,” he said.

         Her gaze narrowed. “Wise.”

         Pax sprinted out of the spy wing. Mercedes might have been acting like she was fine at the end, but he made a quick promise as he ran. “I swear on the River Styx,” he whispered, “As much as I can help it, to never be the reason Mercedes cries again.”[2]

 Thanks for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this never-ending romp through Hell! :D (Oh, gods, it’s like a metaphor for current events.) Next week will probably be a break week for me, then we’ll come back with a one-shot Luke story, Two-Toned Memories about why Luke didn’t get to see Annabeth before she took Atlas’ burden.

  [1] https://tenor.com/7Bth.gif

Is it bad that I laughed through writing this whole scene because of this gif? I’m not sorry.

[2] *drum roll for Pax having bad luck throughout all of Traitors of Olympus*

[supremeuppityone]

Written for @kcfanficweek Klaroline Fanfiction Week Day 1- All Human Fanfic Day. 

This is a follow-up to my work in A Beautiful Symmetry, Chapter 83: Part 10 - Klarosummer Bingo. Thanks for all of the asks and encouragement to write more from this world. Enjoy!

Please review here.

Part 2: Newsflash — seashell bras give me hives

         The fake pine scent coupled with musk overwhelmed her senses and made her gag. She blinked rapidly, realizing she was waking face-first on the couch. Fuck. It smelled like Damon had rubbed his Paco Rabanne-soaked ass all over it. “Easy sweetheart,” Klaus murmured unexpectedly from above.

           She looked up, wincing at the bruises she could feel along the base of her skull. Klaus’ concerned face was a bit fuzzy as she tried to focus, but once she took in the severity of his own injuries, she snapped back to reality. At least one black eye, cuts along his cheeks and forehead that looked suspiciously like the gaudy rings that bore the Salvatores’ family crest. “Klaus? Oh, my god — what did those bastards do to you?!”

           “Nothing I don’t intend to return in kind,” he answered, the coldness of his voice making her shiver.

           The Salvatores had first introduced Klaus as ‘new money business’, which Caroline had assumed meant that he was a high-level dealer, or maybe even a drug lord. She’d been careful around him, doing her best to check her curiosity whenever she saw him at the club, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he had information she could use. Especially now that it seemed the badge lying on the coffee table belonged to him.

           She was pissed at him for keeping secrets, but realized she was being a hypocrite. After all, she’d weaseled her way into Salvatore Sirens, the mermaid-themed burlesque club, under false pretenses too. It was all Bonnie’s stupid fault — her loser boyfriend got in too deep with the Salvatores and couldn’t pay them back — so she begged Caroline to get a job there and spy on the Salvatores and get evidence of their drug trafficking.

           All this time, she’d felt conflicted about her growing feelings for Klaus, worried about how to keep him out of this mess when she finally had evidence to take to the police. And it turned out that Klaus was the police. She nodded to his badge, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “Of all the things I would’ve guessed about you, this was not one of them.”

           “You wondered about me,” he asked in an oddly hopeful tone. “I wasn’t sure how much of what you’d shown me was real.” At her affronted expression, he hastily explained, “Not that I assumed anything untoward about you or your...assets. They’re lovely.” Gray eyes widened in horror as he quickly corrected his wandering gaze, adding, “I meant that you’re lovely! All of you, that is.”

           She raised an eyebrow, not really sure what to say. Klaus rambled when he was nervous. And he wasn’t nearly as smooth as his drug lord persona he’d adopted for his undercover work. She liked this Klaus better. “You’re lovely as well.” With a teasing wink, she added, “All of you.” The throbbing of her head reminded her that this definitely was the wrong time to flirt. “Tell me you have a plan,” she muttered, careful to keep her voice low in case the Salvatores were watching them.

           “Everything will be fine, Caroline. I promise.”  

           “Well, this is just awkward. Because I’m pretty sure nothing will be fine for either of you ever again,” Damon sneered, straddling a chair off to the side while Stefan creepily sat so close to Caroline he almost was in her lap. Both brothers had dark eyes, but it was Stefan’s that she found the most disturbing. They were perfectly blank — devoid of emotion — but yet they glittered with an eerie awareness. And right now, it was directed at her.

           When Stefan began running his fingers along the top of her hand, she immediately tried to jerk it away, her flesh crawling from his touch. However, his grip was iron and she had no choice but to let him continue his silent exploration.

           “Let go of her,” Klaus snarled, struggling to break free of his bonds.

           Damon watched him struggle, an amused grin on his pale face as he said, “We’re going to play a game. I’ll ask you questions, and each time you lie, my brother with touch another part of Caroline. And she has so many pretty parts.” He cocked his dark head, his voice little more than a sleazy purr. “And just so you know, Stefan has had his eye on her for awhile. Normally, there’s a strict a hands-off policy with our girls — since it’s just not worth the payoffs or the inevitable body dumps — but your little crush on her is too convenient not to exploit.”

           Caroline sucked in a gasp, looking away from Stefan’s blank stare as he continued to weirdly massage her knuckles. Fuck — why was he licking his lips?

           Clearly noticing Stefan’s disconcerting behavior, Klaus ground out through clenched teeth, “What do you want to know?”    

           “Your badge says ‘narcotics’. So, what are you? Cop? DEA?”

           “Narcotics agent. With the DEA,” He replied tersely. His steely gaze flicked over to Stefan, who paid him no mind as he continued to toy with Caroline’s hand, running a blunt nail across her cuticles. “I answered your question — let go of her,” he seethed.

           Damon shook his head, dark eyes full of mirth as he taunted, “You answered one question. And Stefan is still only touching one of Caroline’s parts. We need to give him a freebie — trust me, you don’t want Stefan to have idle hands.”

           She hated that she shivered at Damon’s threatening words, the weight of Stefan’s empty stare making her want to scream. Her thoughts raced at what Klaus had revealed. He wasn’t a local police officer — he worked at the federal level. This meant he was even more useful to her cause than she’d realized. Plus, it meant the Feds already were onto the Salvatores’ drug operation. With a start, she remembered the tiny camera hidden among the gaudy pearls of her ridiculous seashell bra. She needed to make sure everything that happened here was caught on camera.

           She subtly shifted, arching her back to get the best possible angle. She sat very still as she focused on Damon to ensure several frames were captured before moving onto Klaus, hoping she properly catalogued all of his injuries. It was when she turned her attention to Stefan that Damon called her out with a sharp laugh, “What’s with you pointing your tits at my brother? Yeah, your rack’s pretty awesome, but you’re one crazy bitch if you think it’s going to save you.”

           “Leave her alone,” Klaus demanded, mercifully pulling focus away from her for the moment.

           His face cleared as he nodded in agreement. “Right — back to my questions. So how long have the Feds been onto us and what evidence do you guys have?”

           Stefan briefly looked away from her, seemingly interested in Klaus’ response, and she quickly considered her options. What could she use as a weapon? She couldn’t risk damaging the camera in her ridiculous bra and the sequins of her mermaid costume only would scrape skin, not break it. Her Salvatore Sirens’ outfit was just as useless as it was uncomfortable. As she shifted her hips, she jumped slightly at the press of the steel boning that was poking its way through a hole in the lining. Of course! She’d accidentally ripped a seam climbing out of the giant clamshell during her act, and there hadn’t been time to see the stage manager before she was expected to mingle with the crowd.

           With a slight nudge of her free hand, she caressed the sharp tip of the metal, slowly inching it out of the small tear in the fabric. Once it was out, she hugged it tightly between her palm and her thigh, weighing her options. While she wished she could use it to cut through Klaus’ bonds, Stefan or Damon would stop her first. She had no choice — she’d need to injure Stefan before doing anything else. Feeling slightly queasy, she sucked in a breath and then took advantage of Stefan’s uncomfortably close proximity to lean into him just enough to hide her weapon. Her unexpected move distracted him and she managed to put all of her weight behind the first blow, jamming the rigid piece of metal into his neck. He immediately bellowed, instinctively grabbing at it to yank it out, spraying blood while Damon cursed and reached for her.

           She barely avoided Damon’s clutches, shoving a still-screaming Stefan away from her to get to Klaus. However, Klaus surprised her by leaping to his feet, hands already free. He’d silently freed himself and had been biding his time. In a blinding burst of speed, he’d managed to strike down Damon with some sort of downward-slashing movement with his elbow, and delivered a powerful punch to Stefan’s jaw, causing him to crumple to the ground with a pitiful moan, his neck wound continuing to bleed.  

           A fine spray of blood had splattered across them both and the air stank of sweat; however, Caroline was certain she’d never been more turned on in her life as she stared in wonder at Klaus. Returning her heated gaze, he told her, “You jumped the gun a bit, but I do enjoy a woman who takes charge, love.”

           Before she could reply, the room suddenly swarmed with agents who secured the Salvatores and began checking Caroline and Klaus’ injuries. He grimaced a bit when one of the agents poked a bit too hard at his ribs, but continued his debriefing, glancing over at Caroline to say, “While the Salvatores destroyed the bugs I’d planted in here, at least you’ll be able to corroborate what happened.”

           Caroline nodded, blue eyes lighting up excitedly as she answered, “Plus, there’s my boob camera!”

           From the quirk of his brow and flash of his dimples, it seemed Klaus was anxious to give her evidence a thorough examination.

[somethingjustsouthofbrilliance]

I Got You (Tony/Rhodey secret service AU)(chapter 6)

Some of you asked if there will be a chapter from Tony’s POV.  Well, here it is.  It’s longer than my previous ones, but there was a lot to pack into it. Hope you, guys, don’t mind. Got a few more Easter eggs in this chapter also - see if you can pick those out ;-)

Links to chapter 1, chapter 5

Tagging @jamesrhodey  @supernaturalyloki @chanderefk @aimeeroot21 @markedplaces @mostly-marvel-stuffs @matre-dee @le-ephemere @lo-anlurui @savedbyholmes @kimmycup @typicalcampbell @natty-ts70 @damnhiatus @pubzie @giulisetta @starkravinghazelnuts

Chapter 6

 The group at the nearby table abandon their pretense of looking through the menus the moment Rhodes walks away, and Tony has been waiting for it, waiting for them to make a move, and the moment they do, the moment the first of them rises from the table, so does he.

 He slams his elbow hard into the nose of the closest goon, causing the man to stumble backwards, eyes watering and hands clamping over the now bloodied face.  Delivers a vicious follow-up blow to the man’s temple, dropping him to the floor like a sack of potatoes.  

 One, he thinks grimly and twists around to drive the heel of his boot into the side of another’s knee.  

 Two, he adds, allowing himself the tiniest of smirks at the dull sound of bone breaking even as the second assailant hollers and drops, clutching the knee in obvious pain.  

 He puts the guy out of his misery with a well-aimed kick to the head and turns just in time to duck out of the way of a chair swinging toward him.  He intercepts the object by its legs, twists it sharply to the side, forcing the other guy to let go.  Then lunges forward, smashing the back of the chair into the guy’s neck with everything he’s got.

 Three.

 He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and he spins around just in time to see one of the group slink away in the direction that Rhodes had disappeared to.  

 Shit.

 He doesn’t bother with the mental tally anymore.  He needs to finish this as quickly as possible. Goon number four reaches behind his coat for the gun tucked into his waistband, having apparently reached a similar conclusion.  And Tony doesn��t have time for this – not in a crowded restaurant, not when the fifth man is probably already gunning for Rhodes.  

 He’s still holding the chair, so he swings it at the guy’s head hard enough to crack and splinter the wood. The man slumps wordlessly, an awkward heap at Tony’s feet, and Tony waits half a heartbeat to make sure the guy doesn’t so much as twitch before running full-speed after number five.

 He bursts into the kitchen, nearly knocking over one of the workers.  A cursory glance at the man’s terror-wide eyes that keep darting toward the back of the room tells him he was right not to bother checking the restroom first – he’s on the right track.  

 He pulls out his gun, hurries through the busy crammed space, nearly slipping on a spilled mess of pasta and broken glass left in the middle of the tiled floor.  

 Yes, definitely on the right track.

 There’s a shout up ahead, a harsh demanding tone, and he rushes toward it, worried that he is already too late when his ears pick up a dull twang of a blow followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground.  And skids to a stunned halt at the sight of the fifth goon sprawled in an awkward senseless heap by the back door and Rhodes standing over him with a cast iron skillet in his hand.  

 He blinks, shakes his head in amusement.  “A skillet tenderized goon chop,” he remarks approvingly, squatting down next to the likely comatose would-be assassin to retrieve the man’s fallen weapon.   “Nicely done, Chef Rhodey.”

 “I’ve done ten years in the military,” comes a slightly clipped, slightly breathless response. “I’m not entirely helpless.  And the name’s Rhodes.”

 Tony dutifully ignores the correction.  “Former military, huh,” he squints assessingly up at his charge. “Marines?”

 Rhodes tosses the skillet, raises his hand to fix the glasses that got tilted a bit during his altercation.  “Air Force,” he corrects, “fighter pilot.”

 “A flyboy,” Tony hums, straightening back out, the assailant’s weapon held loosely in his hand. Dismisses with a casual shrug, “Impressive, but not a particularly useful skill in our current situation. You know how to shoot?”  

 “Yeah, I know how to shoot.” Rhodes sounds almost offended now, and Tony grins appreciatively.

 “Here you go then, Platypus,” he holds the extra weapon out to him by the barrel, his grin growing wider when Rhodes takes it without hesitation, the weapon fitting into his hand with expert ease.  He steps to the door, opens it the tiniest of cracks.  “Stay close,” he says, making sure to catch the other man’s eyes. “Keep low. Cover fire only – don’t poke your head up for any reason.  Understood?”

 Rhodes looks like he wants to argue, brows knitted into a stubborn frown, and Tony can’t have that – can’t afford to have a goddamn politician (even one who may have seen combat) going all Dirty Harry on him.  He grips the man’s shoulder, squeezes hard.  “Look,” he says, drawing on what little patience he has and trying for placating, “your military training aside, you are an extremely high value target, and those guys out there – their goal is to take you out.  My job is to keep you alive. Let me do it.  Please.”  

 Rhodes regards him silently for a moment, then nods. “Okay.”

 “Okay.”

 And they’re off.

 ***

 Just as he had predicted, there are more goons waiting outside.  The good news is there are only four of them, milling about next to two black vans with tinted windows.  The bad news – they spot them all too soon for Tony’s liking – about halfway to the relative safety of the car, and these guys, being outside, are not shy about using their weapons.

 He throws out his hand behind him, blindly grabs a fistful of the pale blue fabric and yanks down, forcing Rhodes to duck behind the closest vehicle.  He follows suit, wincing in mute apology to the car’s hapless owner, whoever they may be, as bullets pepper its other side.  A momentary lull in gunfire has him up on his feet again, firing over the hood of the car and hissing at Rhodes to move while their assailants in turn duck behind one of the vans for cover.  Rhodes obeys without hesitation this time, taking off at a low crouch, and Tony fires off a couple more shots, blowing out the vans’ tires, and runs off after him, making sure to keep himself between Rhodes and the shooters.

 He unlocks the car on the run, yells at Rhodes to “Get in and get down”.  Gets in himself, flinching as the driver’s side window shatters from the impact of a bullet, showering him with glass.   He doesn’t wait for them to get in another shot.  Slams the key into ignition, floors the pedal and peels out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

 ***

 “How did they manage to track us down?” Rhodes straightens out slowly in the passenger seat, looks back over his shoulder at the restaurant parking lot they had long since left behind.

 Tony shrugs, wincing as the movement pulls unpleasantly at his left shoulder.  Spares Rhodes a sideways glance.  “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” he admits, barely able to hide his frustration.  Because he missed something, he knows he did.  He got rid of their phones, they’ve got a brand new credit card, a new car, made sure their movements couldn’t be traced.  Hell, he even got Rhodes to get rid of his old clothes, so he would–

 Shit.

 He glances Rhodes’ way again, eyes narrowed in thought.  “You wouldn’t happen to have something on your person that was a gift, would ya? Fairly recent?  This year sometime?”

 Rhodes frowns at the question, seemingly confused as to its relevance, but he obliges nevertheless, lifts up his left hand to show off an exquisite-looking Bulgari encircling his wrist. “Got this little beast about two months ago,” he says, and his eyes widen in sudden horrified realization as he stumbles breathlessly over the name of the giver, “from Obie…”

 Shit, shit, shit

 “Take it off,” Tony commands, squeezing the steering wheel harder as he berates himself for being stupid, stupid, stupid not to have thought of this sooner.  

A sudden wave of sharp, stabbing pain that tears through his shoulder at the angry motion nearly makes him gasp out loud.  He grits his teeth, loosens his grip on the steering wheel a bit, taking a couple of long steadying breaths through the nose.  Spares a quick glance at the front of his shirt, unsurprised to see a steadily growing patch of wetness that spreads out from a small hole just below his collarbone.  Of-fucking-course.

 “Smash it,” he forces out hoarsely, because they need to take care of this first, this is important, his goddamn shoulder can wait.  “On the dash… use your gun.”  

 Rhodes does as he’s told, drives the butt of the gun into the delicate clockwork until the beautiful timepiece is nothing but a mess of twisted metal and broken glass.

 “Toss it,” Tony instructs, and what’s left of the watch is sent flying out the open window.  

 It’s not ideal. Stane or whoever else that’s pulling the strings already has part of their itinerary, they can figure out the rest soon enough even without the tracker.  But it should at least buy them some time. Which, judging by the way his shoulder is now a constant painful throb in odd concert with the beat of his heart, they desperately, desperately need.  

 He thinks back to his original plan.  His old house in Malibu.  Another 20+ hours away.  There’s no way he can get them there now.  Not in this shape.  They need a stopover, a safe place to rest and get patched up before he gets them back on their way.  Luckily for them, they are about an hour away from one – a small safety harbor he himself helped create many years ago for those he swore he would give his life to protect.  And he hates the idea of being the one to now bring danger to their doorstep.  Would never even think about doing so if he were on his own.  But he’s got Rhodes to think about – the man who is now also his to protect.  He cannot, will not fail him now.  

 He flicks another troubled gaze at his bloodied shirt, looks up at the road sign for the rapidly approaching junction with US-54 and turns the car toward the exit ramp, sending a quick mental apology to those, whose lives he’s about to make a whole lot more complicated.

 ***

 “I knew Stane as a kid. Did he ever tell you?” He doesn’t know why he’s volunteering this information now. Blames it on the blood loss. On the fact that the road flickers in and out of focus for him with ever-increasing frequency and they still have about 10 minutes left to go and he desperately, desperately needs to find a way to stay alert.  Talking helps.  Talking about anything really.  He’s just not so sure that starting a conversation about his messed-up childhood with a guy he met only a couple weeks ago, a guy who probably only tolerates his presence out of necessity, is a good way to go.  But his mouth no longer seems to listen to his brain’s admonitions, and he doesn’t think he has the wherewithal to fight that particular battle now.

 “I… no…” Rhodes sounds equal parts confused and surprised.  “I didn’t.”

 “Used to come see my… Howard about his projects.”

 A wave of dizziness assaults him out of nowhere and he grips the wheel harder to stay in his lane. The wound in his shoulder echoes dutifully, the surge of pain momentarily whitening out the road before him. But it helps, jolts him into greater awareness, buys him a few minutes more.  Hopefully enough to reach the house.   He blinks rapidly to clear his vision, his chest heaving with breaths that seem too shallow, too inadequate somehow.

 “I used to … like it when he came.  …Kept Howard’s attention away,” he admits, the words pouring out of him like liquor out of a bottle.  And, god, he needs a drink – he would kill for one just about now.  Drinking helps.  Howard taught him that.  He didn’t want to learn.  He was too young, he thinks.  But Howard said he needed to, so he obeyed.  He wanted to be good, wanted his father to like him… or at least… at least not hit him so much.  He left him alone when Obie was there, so that was nice… that was nice.

 “Wh…what?”

 He clamps his mouth shut at his passenger’s appalled gasp, flicks a pathetically hopeful glance to the side, wincing at the expression of stunned horror on the other man’s face.  Shit. He didn’t mean to say any of that out loud, he really didn’t.  Damn this blood loss.

 “Stark, I–”

 “S’fine,” he interrupts, turning his attention back to the road, hunching in on himself under the watchful, concerned stare he can feel burning a hole in the side of his face.  “Whiskey under the bridge.”  A hysterical giggle bubbles forth, and, boy, is he not helping himself here.  He doesn’t even dare look Rhodes’ way anymore.  Can’t bear the judgment, the pity he knows he’s gonna see in the man’s eyes.

 The road winks out for a moment.  Comes back veiled in a rapidly thickening gray haze.  His left arm slips off the wheel, hanging a dead weight at his side.  The fingers of his right one are growing colder by the minute and he can barely feel the leather in their white-knuckled grip.  His time has run out.

 “See that driveway up ahead?” He nods toward a simple gravel road framed by trees and thick overgrowth on both sides.  “There’s a house… at the end of it.  Friend of mine… Pep…Pepper.”  He’s slurring, he can feel it, his tongue growing too heavy in his mouth. But he still needs to, he needs to…

 “Stark?”

 He can hear the worry in Rhodes’ voice, can feel the man’s hand gripping his shoulder – a strong solid anchor in an ocean of cold and darkness that’s slowly pulling him under.  It’s nice that anchor, but it won’t be enough to keep him from floating away.

 “Take the… take the wheel,” he manages on a soft, breezy exhale, as darkness rises higher to engulf him completely.

 Rhodes’ anxious call of his name is the last thing he hears.

[gamearamamegathons]

Dragon Warrior IV: Fantasy Day Job

Circe here! In the third chapter we meet Taloon the merchant. Apparently he wants to be the world's greatest arms dealer, which sounds somewhat less than noble when you phrase it that way, but we're really just talking about swords here I guess, so that's not so bad. Every hero needs a sword, right? I mean, okay, not *every* hero but -- look, you gotta get that stuff somewhere. I guess blacksmiths would sound more ominous too if we called them 'weapons manufacturers', which is technically true, so we'll just chalk this up to tonally clumsy localization.

Taloon starts out in his small hometown of Lakanaba, where he has a wife, a kid, and a day job. In this chapter, the game goes a lot heavier on event scripting, so you can actually work for the local weapons shop and everything, which mostly involves standing still while customers walk up to you and answering 'yes' to all their questions so they buy stuff. But it's interesting, and notably, Taloon starts out very, very weak even compared to other level 1 characters, so you actually have some reason to work at his job and make some money living his day-to-day life for a bit. In the morning, he wakes up, his wife gives him lunch, and he goes off to work. At night, he goes home and says goodnight to his wife before going to sleep to do it all over again. I'll admit, this actually got me in a bit of a roleplaying mood, and even when I had Taloon going out and poking monsters with sharp objects, I still tried to go back home every night.

Eventually, though, you've gotta get together your own weapon and armor and set out. Taloon's big perk is that he seems to get more money and items from encounters, which means that once you get going, it's a lot easier to kit yourself out with pretty good equipment. This makes the earliest encounter zones pretty easy to handle. The first big hurdle Taloon has to cross is heading to a dungeon to the north to find the Iron Safe, an item that stops you from losing any gold on death. Yes, that's right, with this item in hand, you basically suffer no consequences for dying. It's kind of awesome, actually. And it's important, because amassing large quantities of gold without losing a bunch of it is going to be integral to Taloon's quest. This dungeon is kinda fun, 'cause you gotta run away from a giant boulder and swap the treasure with a stone, Indiana Jones-style. It's definitely a lot more involved than a lot of the old stuff, and it looks like they really wanted to show off what this game's engine was capable of compared to the previous ones.

Taloon's travels take us south to the castle of Bonmalmo. It's actually not far from Endor, which is where Taloon wants to get to, but the bridge is broken. You might remember Endor as being the endpoint of Alena's quest, so things are starting to connect together. Unfortunately, the king of Bonmalmo wants to invade Endor. Our quest to solve this whole problem involves us rescuing a guy from Lakanaba who's been imprisoned in Bonmalmo, then borrowing his dog to rescue the king's architect from magical foxes (yes, really) and then, once the bridges are fixed, talking to the prince of Bonmalmo and the princess of Endor, who want to marry, and convincing the king of Bonmalmo that a marriage would be better than a war. Phew.

If we were paying attention last chapter (and I was, don't worry) we would've already met a man in Endor who had a shop he wanted to sell so he could retire. This is Taloon's next goal, to start his own shop here. But it's pricey, so we need to find a good way to make 35K gold. Luckily, we can pick up some rumors of a rare artifact called the Silver Statue, and it turns out there's a guy in Endor who will pay a lot for it. So off we go. This dungeon is actually pretty tough, but luckily Taloon can hire a couple folks to help him out -- a warrior and a spellcaster. Even with their help, it's pretty rough going, but remember, even if we die, we don't lose any gold, so with that in mind, I happily took much greater risks than I would have normally. And this, eventually, led me to the Silver Statue. Selling the statue to the collector, plus some money I already had on hand, is enough to buy the shop, and Taloon's whole family moves to Endor with him. So that's done, but Taloon's quest isn't over yet. He wants to find this one awesome legendary sword, but that means helping another guy dig a tunnel further east. That'll be 60K gold, please.

Getting together the money is a bit more straightforward this time. The king wants 7 broad swords and 7 half-plate armors for his men. That's a lot, but with a combination of Taloon's ability to scrape together money and the fact that he can get monsters to drop those items semi-regularly, I was eventually able to deliver the whole order and get enough money to help get that tunnel finished. Completing this task brings Chapter 3 to a close.

Chapter 4 introduces us to the sisters Nara and Mara, dancers who are traveling from town to town seeking to take revenge on the man who killed their father, named...Balzack. I really have nothing to add to that, chalk it up to clumsy localization again. Nara is a Fortuneteller, and she has healing spells and is pretty competent in combat. Mara is a Dancer, and she has offensive spells, and is going to take a while to even find a weapon we can equip her with. The two of them together are a lot stronger than Taloon was, although they're admittedly a bit fragile. I can't tell if it was my impatience or because this was intended, but when I took their first dungeon, they were very weak, so I wasn't able to travel very deep at first. The monsters did give pretty good experience, though. Funnily enough, we actually managed to find an ally in the dungeon who joined us, and he was a very heavy hitter with a lot of HP, so he managed to carry the party pretty far even though the sisters were pretty weak. Again, I can't tell for sure if this is how I was supposed to do things or if I was hugely underleveled, but oh well. In this dungeon, we also find the Sphere of Silence, which is supposed to help us defeat Balzack.

Our journey eventually takes us to Keeleon, which is apparently ruled by an evil king. We get word that this is where Balzack is holed up, but we have to find a way to uncover the king's secret chambers. This involves going into a mine in a nearby town to find gunpowder, so we can make a loud noise with it and scare one of the king's servants into fleeing back to the chamber and revealing it to us. This is where we fight Balzack, who has apparently been turned into a monster by...evolution, or something. With the Sphere of Silence, we manage to take him down, but then the real king of Keeleon takes us on, and he's also an evolution-monster, except he totally kicks our ass in a clearly scripted beatdown. So we end up in jail. Luckily, we're able to find a boarding pass to get on a ship and flee Keeleon, heading to a port town to the north and getting the heck out of this entire messed up continent. We failed to kill Balzack though, since the king intervened before we could finish him off. Darn.

That's the end of the sisters' quest for now, though. Now, finally, it's time to get started on the main quest, which means we're going to play as...me! Yes, that's right, it's finally time to be the hero. We find that our hero had been raised in a hidden village, far away from civilization, and trained to be a hero until the age of seventeen. Oh, and we finally have a female sprite, so, life is pretty good. Well, that is, up until Necrosaro's forces find the village and burn it to the ground and kill everyone pretty much. So that sucks. We survive by hiding in a hidden basement, and one of our friends disguises herself as us so that the monsters think they killed the hero. That...sucks a lot, jeez. So, now we're on our own. But at the very least, we know that there are allies out in the world, the characters we've already met and played as, we just need to find them. It turns out that our hidden village is east of Endor, so we can find Taloon's tunnel and travel there. In Endor we meet Nara and Mara, who join the party and give us some much-needed extra power.

One thing that's immediately noticeable is that in this part of the game, our allies are not directly controllable -- we can only tell the hero what to do, and for everyone else, we have to set a tactics mode that will determine how they act. I dunno if I'm a huge fan of this approach, but I'm getting used to it.

At this point, I know we're supposed to find Taloon, but I'm a bit lost, so I just kind of wander around until I find another dungeon further east. This dungeon is strange -- it requires you to have three party members, and a little ways in you get separated from Nara and Mara, which sucked because they were like five levels higher than me. Then you find imposters who turn out to be monsters, and after you defeat them...you find more imposters who turn out to be monsters. What a mess. After meeting up with the sisters proper, we manage to find the Symbol of Faith, which is...uh...ah...? A thing. With no other clear direction, I rub the quest item on the immediate next obstacle, which is a guy who has a wagon we need to travel across the desert, but won't help us because he doesn't trust people. Apparently, rubbing this quest item on him causes him to realize the power of friendship, and he joins us and allows us to continue. After crossing the desert, I happen across another port town, and I hear people talking about Taloon preparing a boat, but it can't leave yet because of an...evil lighthouse or something, and Taloon's gone of to fix the lighthouse so it's not evil anymore. Uh, so I guess that's our next lead!

I'll admit, I'm quite wary of boats in Dragon Warrior games at this point, but we'll see how things go. I've quite liked traveling over the land with my companions and beating dungeons and meeting people and stuff, so I hope the game will continue on like this. The main quest is still in its early phase, so only time will tell where it will lead us.

[thehuskerrumble]

Sherwoodn’t  Want to Face a Winless Husker Team

Sherwood 0   Higginsville 10

Salvy Splash

Mark this date down, March 27th 2021. You’ll always want to remember where you were on the day that Coach Landon Figg recorded his first career victory. After two tough losses to start the season, the Huskers looked to right the ship at home against the visiting Sherwood Marksmen. This is a game that has been traditionally played at T-Bones Stadium, but let’s be honest, that sounds a whole lot cooler than it actually is. The last time we went there, the field was in terrible shape, and somebody kept playing sound bites over the PA that had nothing to do with what was happening on the field. Plus, the concessions were closed and I had to bring my own snacks. Completely unacceptable. But anyway, let’s slap hands and talk about the Huskers first win of the season. 

Stay Golden

Josiah Golden drew the start for Higginsville, and looked well rested despite pitching a day game after playing the night before. He definitely brought his “A” game, and made short work of the Marksmen lineup. Josiah’s final pitching line had more K’s than a list of Kim Kardashian’s favorite people. (Her favorite people would just be herself, over and over again.) Sherwood only managed to put two balls in play the entire game. One was a comebacker to the mound in the first, and the other was a ground ball to shortstop in the fourth, resulting in a bang-bang safe call at first. The last one gave the Marksmen their only base knock of the contest, and prevented Golden from taking home the no-no. But my 46 year-old biased eyes think that we should have gotten the call on that one. In the end, Josiah threw all five innings, striking out 14 batters along the way, while only allowing two base runners. The Huskers could use twenty-something more performances just like this. 

Action Jackson

And.....there was offense! We all know that Higginsville has gotten off to a frigid start at the plate, with only one hit and three runs in their first two contests. But we also know that this team is much better than the early numbers have indicated. After being held scoreless in the first, the Huskers jumped out to the lead with one in the second. Camden Russell beat out an infield single to third, and promptly worked his way over to third, courtesy of a balk and a wild pitch. Two batters later, Nick Herrera grounded one into the hole between short and third. The shortstop made a nice play to flag it down, but had no real chance to make the throw to first, scoring Russell for a 1-0 Husker lead. Higginsville was blanked again in the third, but opened up the floodgates with a six run fourth. Russell reach on an error, and again used his speed to advance to third. Garrett Pemberton then drove him in on a 6-3 fielders choice. Herrera was up next, and struck out swinging, but hustled down to first on a dropped third strike. Connor Reynolds drew a walk, and Mason Rumsey advanced the runners to second and third, after being thrown out at first on a bunt attempt for a hit (was he out?) Then Jackson Kouril stepped to the plate and delivered the Huskers biggest hit of the game. He stroked a hard line drive into centerfield, driving in both Herrera and Reynolds. Kouril advanced to second on a passed ball, and Jace Kerley drove him in by beating out an infield single to the left side. Jackson’s heads up baserunning skills were on full display, as he managed to race second to home without the ball ever leaving the infield. Cade Limback then decided to get in on the action by beating out an infield single of his own, and both runners scored on a wild throw to first. But the bats weren’t done. The Huskers tacked on three more runs in the fifth, racking up three straight singles by Pemberton, Herrera, and Reynolds. Rumsey then walked with the bases loaded, and Kouril continued his big day by beating out an infield single to third. Golden then proceeded to walk off the game by poking a two run single into right field. Officially, only one of the runs counted, as Higginsville completed the spread once the tenth run crossed the plate. Poor Sherwood fell victim to the pent up Husker offensive frustration, that had been building over the first couple of games. In the end, it’s a win, and a complete victory at that. Dominant pitching, and offense from all parts of the lineup have the Huskers sitting at 1-2 on the season. 

Keys to Victory:

Homefield advantage. Don’t ever let anyone tell you it doesn’t exist. Much like the Huskers were out of their element on the turf fields of Marshall and Odessa, Sherwood seemed completely unprepared for the slow play of Fairground grass. By my count Higginsville recorded six infield singles that were the direct result of the Marksmen infielders playing too deep, coupled with a whole lot of Husker hustle. And Josiah Golden striking out 14 batters helped as well. 

Throwing Smoke:

Josiah Golden recorded 14 strikeouts, including 6 straight to close out the game. 

Stranger Things:

Please be patient with Dan Rumsey as he continues to get better at working the “effin” PA system. In the meantime, you may want to put earmuffs on your children. 

Box Score:

Up Next:

Monday, March 29th 4:30 pm, the Huskers travel to Lawson to take on the Cardinals

JV Game  3 Innings

Sherwood 2     Higginsville 5

Tyson Jeffries made his pitching debut, tossing two innings, and Quinn Frank finished off the third. Both players did an excellent job for their first time out, and allowed the Husker coaching staff to preserve some much needed arms.

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

The Great Hoodie Fiasco

Human!Uni!AU Intro Post

Ch. 1: Move In Day

Ch. 2.1: FaceTime

Ch 2.2: When the Present Isn’t a Gift

SO after reading Maris’s amazing Human/University!AU, I was inspired to finish the first Human!AU fic I started. Here’s a Human!AU origin story for Virgil’s altered hoodie. Hope you like it! (Also so sorry for the Popeye reference.)

Summary: Patton just wanted to help Virgil out, but his gesture went from kind to disastrous in 20 minutes flat. 

Characters: Virgil and Patton (platonic)

Word Count: 1,407

Warnings: None that I can think of. 

Tags: @ssides @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

Patton knew he probably shouldn’t have stolen Virgil’s coveted hoodie while he was sleeping, but he just couldn’t help himself. The thing looked so sad, covered in food stains, and it smelled like 3 weeks of body odor and sweat. He’d never tell Virgil that his late aversion to being within 5 feet of the other youth had been because of the decrepit state of his most beloved item of clothing, but….it was. The hoodie was nasty. Patton had taken all the stink he could stands and he couldn’t stands no more.

So, with his love for his self-proclaimed “son” at the forefront of his mind and a clothespin on his nose, Patton had silently swiped the hoodie from its part-time position on Virgil’s bedpost.

His plan had been so simple: run it through the washer with some scentless fabric softener (Virgil hated flowery or other strong scents; they gave him headaches), then the dryer on low with a scentless dryer sheet. It all should have gone swimmingly…except Patton didn’t notice the large holes in the hoodie, one big one on the back and a couple on the hood and one or two on each sleeve, and he didn’t anticipate said holes getting hooked on their washing machine’s agitator, and he DEFINITELY didn’t anticipate the holes turning into multiple giant tears that virtually mutilated one of Virgil’s most prized possessions on the entire planet.

So, here Patton found himself, kneeling in the laundry room, his entire body shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks when he realized what he’d done. Virgil would never forgive him; he’d ruined everything he’d worked so hard to build with Virgil over a period of months in just 20 minutes-

Unless.

Patton’s head snapped back, and his eyes roved the shelves of the laundry room for something he’d grown fond of over the years: his sewing kit. 

Patton’s Granny had taught him to sew when he visited her as a child; they would spend whole afternoons watching “I Love Lucy” and “Andy Griffith” re-runs while completing cross stitch or needle point projects. She’d also taught him to repair his own clothing one afternoon after he’d run inside sobbing over a tear in his favorite sweater; he was a master of the whip stitch by the time he was 9.

With a determined grin on his lips, Patton jumped up, grabbed his sewing kit, fabric he had left over from previous projects, and took off to his room. He’d not only fix Virgil’s hoodie; he’d make it better than before! He only hoped he could do it before Virgil woke up.

—————-

Thankfully, Virgil’s horrible sleeping habits and Patton’s fast fingers were on his side, for he finished the hoodie just before Virgil woke up. Leaning against Virgil’s door, Patton could hear the other youth stirring inside, his breath catching when he heard Virgil take in a deep breath. Well, it was now or never.

“Hey, kiddo.” Patton knocked gently on Virgil’s door. “Can I come in? I have something for you.”

“One second, Pat, I have to find my hoodie-”

“I have it.” Patton slowly opened the door and poked his head around it, mustering up the best smile he could despite the nerves eating at his stomach.

“Why?” Virgil cocked a brow, a slight edge to his voice but nothing aggressive in his tone or body language.

“I….I wanted to wash it for you.” Patton sighed, shuffling into the dark room and displaying his offering by the light streaming in from the hallway. “It just….I know you’ve been having a rough time these last few days, and I thought a fresh hoodie might make you feel a bit better. But….there was an accident.”

Virgil’s breath hitched, and his eyes darted back and forth between Patton’s face and the bundle in his hands. “What kind of accident?” He ground out.

“It….I didn’t realize there were some holes, and they got caught on the, you know, the spiny thing in the washer and-” Patton swallowed, preparing himself to deliver the final blow. “It tore some big holes in your hoodie. I’m so sorry, Virgil, but-”

“Patton.” Virgil tried to make his voice hard as ice, but Patton detected a slight quiver in his tone. “Not only did you come in my room without permission, but you also took and ruined something you knew meant a lot to me.” Virgil clenched his jaw, looking Patton straight in the eye, and at any other time Patton would have been incredibly proud of the timid young man for asserting himself. Now, though, he needed to quell his friend’s anger before things got out of control.

Patton sucked in a breath and started, “But, Virgil, I-”

“My mom gave me that hoodie.” Virgil cut in sharply. “Before…” There were tears in Virgil’s eyes, perched and ready to spill over. He ran his hand over his eyes and sniffed, bringing that steely expression back as soon as he let it slip. “And now, you’ve-”

“Fixed it!” Patton yelled, throwing the hoodie at Virgil before he could protest.

The anger in his features surged and receded as Virgil caught and examined the garment. “….What?”

“I messed it up…but then I fixed it.” Patton grinned sheepishly and walked over to Virgil, carefully lifting the hoodie out of his hands to show off his alterations: big purple, black, and white patches with designs covered the holes in the previously solid black outerwear. “It’s…different now, but I saw a purple t-shirt in the back of your closet when I was putting your laundry away, so I thought maybe…” He bit his lip and backed away, watching Virgil intently as he turned his re-designed security blanket over in his hands.

“I…..I think I like it.” Virgil whispered, the quiver back in his voice. He slowly held the zippered jacket up and slid his arms in the sleeves; he shifted his muscles around, testing the arm and back space. “Still feels comfy, a bit heavier, but that’s okay. I like it. I really like it, Pat.”

“Oh goody!!” Patton clapped and hopped on his toes. “I’m so glad because I was worried you’d hate it, but-” Patton stopped when he noticed the blush rising from beneath Virgil’s collar. “I’m glad you like it.” He reiterated calmly.

Virgil bent his head forward and looked at Patton through his bangs. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you, Pat. It’s just…you know….well, you don’t know, actually…but…with my mom-”

“You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready, kiddo.” Patton smiled when Virgil sighed with relief.

“Thanks, Pat…you’re a good friend.” Noting the growing grin and tears welling up in Patton’s eyes, Virgil quickly proposed, “How about we go get lunch? On me, since you did all of this. Anywhere you like.”

“Sounds fun! I’ve been wanting to try that new pizzeria over near the grocery store. We can invite Logan and Roman-”

“Actually…” The creeping blush crawled to Virgil’s cheeks. “I was thinking just the two of us…You know,” He swallowed, forcing his characteristic bite back into his words. “So we can get a word in edge wise without Sir Brags-A-Lot and the Walking Encyclopedia hogging all the oxygen.”

“That’s just fine, too!” That wide, wide grin was back on Patton’s cheeks, and Virgil felt his heart swell just a bit.

“How’s ten minutes and then we go?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Okay, see you again in ten!” Patton called as he fairly skipped out the door.

“See you then.” Virgil replied to the empty air of his room. He padded into the bathroom, flicking on the light and surveying his new digs in the vanity mirror. “It’s really not half bad…not at all.” Virgil muttered to himself, a smile pulling at his lips as he fully surveyed Patton’s handiwork. Virgil had to hand it to him, the paternalistic youth was talented with a needle and thread.

He might have to make sure to “mess up” a few more pieces of clothing on his own…

“SEVEN MIIINUUUTES!” Patton sang as he passed Virgil’s room.

“Coming, chill out. It’s not a date or anything, Dad!” Virgil called back, swinging his hood over his head as he shuffled out to find his shoes.

————-

They spent the rest of the afternoon eating and talking in that pizzaria down the street, and Virgil even told Patton about his mom.

But that’s a story for another day. 

Insomnia (Virgil-centric one shot)

All of my Sanders Sides fanfics