#yeah dude smart idea make the dog too scared to do anything then it's well behaved right? well its behaving well. it doesnt matter that

[ridragon]

If they have a TV show or YT, doubt and heavily research whatever they say when it comes to animals. Especially if it's tv, profit and their own ego over animal health. Cesar Mulan, that reptile guy I forget the name of, Jackson Galaxy, Dr Pol are just a few. When it comes to animals and pets it's important to do your own research and not listen to just one person

[toddtakefive]

Can I Have a Ride Home? I’m at a Party and I Don’t Know Any1

fandom(s): Gravity Falls, Over The Garden Wall

pairing(s): Pinescone , Mabcifica (mentioned)

words: 5314

rating: M (reasons listed in trigger warnings + swearing)

work type: One-shot , AU

tw(s): homophobia , use of slurs , violence and references to past violence

Also on AO3!!

Wirt wasn’t entirely sure how Sara had managed to drag him along with her to Senior Prom, hell he wasn’t even sure how she had managed to get a suit for him when he’d refused to go in for a fitting, but now he was standing in a crowded gym full of high-schoolers and he already wanted to leave. In his defense, they’d already been there an hour and that was an hour longer than he was at most parties.

If he was going to be completely honest, the party wasn’t that bad. Sure the music would cut off whenever there was a swear - everyone would still sing it anyways -, and sure the punch tasted weird, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad party as most parties go. The reason it was a bad party is because it was a party full of nothing but high-schoolers, and high-schoolers are scary. At least to Wirt.

He lost Sara twenty minutes ago -he’s honestly starting to think she’s underneath the bleachers flirting with the girl from her Chem class- and he’s getting bored so he pulls out his phone and starts typing a quick text to Dipper.

‘Bored. Wish you were here :/’.

The reply is immediate, 

‘Lol r u a postcard??’ ‘Wish I wre ther too <3 drving rigt now txt you lter′. 

The next text he receives is a picture taken by the person in the passenger seat, likely Mabel, with a peace sign while Dipper attempts to get his phone back without taking his eyes off the road. The caption for the photo is ‘road safety laws are bogus B)’. He laughs to himself. Yup, definitely Mabel.

He looks up at the sound of steps approaching, expecting it to be Sara but instead seeing evil incarnate. He takes in a deep breath before plastering on a fake smile.

“Hello, Trevor.” he says. 

Trevor Martin. No offense to the British actor Trevor Martin, of course, but Wirt fucking hates this guy. He’s book smart, Wirt’ll give him that, but that’s his only redeeming quality. Not only is he a totally fuckwad, but he has the audacity to say he’s not and try to date Sara, a very loud and proud lesbian. Like, dude, at least Jason Funderberker had the decency to back off when she came out. Plus, never trust a guy with a first name for a last name.

Trevor, wearing his slimy little smirk like he always does, doesn’t even meet Wirt’s eyes. “So, where’s Sara? I figured she’d be with you, you know, since you’re like her fucking boyfriend or whatever.”

Wirt scrunches his nose just slightly, he doesn’t want this situation to escalate more than it has to. “I’ve told you this a thousand times, Trevor. She is not my girlfriend.”

Trevor rolls his eyes, “Sure. You get pissed off that I’m trying to date her because you aren’t her boyfriend. Got it.”

Wirt shakes his head, “I get pissed off that you’re trying to date her because she’s a lesbian. Which is literally common knowledge, by the way.” he throws away his plastic cup and walks out into the hallway. Trevor, being an idiot in everything but school subjects, follows him into the hallway.

“She’s not a lesbian, she’s just saying that to get me to leave her alone.” Trevor explains, causing Wirt to roll his eyes as he walks.

“That’s not how that fucking works, Trevor. Besides, if a girl is literally resorting to faking being a lesbian to get you to leave her alone, maybe you just don’t know how to take a hint.”

He hears Trevor scoff, “Well she’s dating you, so she isn’t a lesbian.”

“She isn’t dating me! And you do know people can be bi, right?”

“If she isn’t dating you then why are you always talking about your relationship in World Civ?”

Wirt, just wanting this idiot to leave him alone already, stops walking abruptly and turns around. Trevor runs into him and falls back a little bit, he has a look on his face that Wirt thinks is his ‘gotcha’ face, but he’s really had enough of the whole ‘Wirt and Sara are dating in secret’ thing when they’re both very out homosexuals.

“Because I have a boyfriend, Trevor.” he deadpans, and sees that smug look fall off of Trevor’s face. God he loves the look of confusion that floods his features, it’s pure poetry.

“What?” Trevor asks, with all of his genius.

“The reason you hear me talking about my relationship -in conversations that didn’t involve you, by the way- is because I have a boyfriend. He lives in California.”

Trevor looks as though his entire world view just got re-shaped. He’s between wanting to believe and wanting to think it’s a prank, but, to Trevor, Wirt isn’t cool enough to pull a prank like this with a straight face.

The long minutes of silence is starting to get awkward, but just as Wirt is about to walk away Trevor speaks up again, “Wait so,” he pauses, “you’re a faggot?”

Wirt tenses immediately. That word. God he hates that word. The first time he heard it was when he came out to his biological dad when he and Dipper started dating back in Sophomore year. It wasn’t a great conversation, and Wirt vividly remembers the bloody nose he got out of it.

“I- uhm. Y-yeah. I- yeah.” Wirt stammers out. Trevor’s entire demeanor changes.

“Wait, what the fuck?” he says, distancing himself from Wirt by a couple inches. This causes Wirt to snap out of whatever funk he was in. He raises an eyebrow.

“Me having a boyfriend isn’t new information, Trevor. You’ve heard me get teased for talking about him before.”

“Yeah, but I thought they were joking! I didn’t think you were actually. You know.” he makes a wild hand gesture in Wirt’s direction.

“Gay?” Wirt asks with a furrowed brow.

“That! That. I didn’t think you were that.” Okay, now Wirt’s getting pissed. Obviously the use of the slur pissed him off, but not even being able to say the word gay? Come on, dude.

“Is there a problem with that?” He asks, crossing his arms. He’s not entirely sure where this newfound courage is coming from, but he can think about it later.

“No it’s just, dude have you been checking me out in the locker rooms and shit this whole time!” Trevor asks, his stance becoming defensive.

Wirt flinches back a bit at the question. “No. Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re.” Another wild hand gesture. Dude, just say the word.

Wirt sighs, “Gay. Right, yeah. We’ve established that. But I don’t go around creeping on the guys in the locker room. That would be fucking weird. And, again, I have a boyfriend, and you also aren’t my type so we’re covering all the bases of ‘I’d never do that’.”

Trevor takes a step forward that causes Wirt to take a step back, “I don’t believe you.” he says, voice lined with anger.

Wirt, quickly realizing he should have just walked away while Trevor was confused, holds his hands up in defense, “Good for you, but I don’t really care.” he glances over Trevor’s shoulder to see if he could make a break for the door. That idea is quickly thrown out the window when Trevor grabs Wirt by the collar. Wirt laughs a bit to himself, “You know, this looks kinda gay.”

Trevor’s hold on the front of his shirt tightens, he brings his hands up higher to make sure he isn’t touching the other boy anywhere, “Okay! Okay, okay, okay! Okay. Look, honestly man, never watched you while you were changing! I don’t think we’ve ever even had a P.E class together, if I’m being honest. And besides, I don’t think watching sweaty teenage boys change is that appealing. Especially not you, cause no offense you’re not really anyone’s type. At least not any gay persons type I mean! I’m sure some girl at the college you attend will think you’re hot, she’ll probably have kinda low standards but a girlfriend’s a girlfriend, right? And she’ll marry you right outta college, and you’ll become a fucking accountant or something else just as soul sucking, and you’ll have two kids, and a dog, and feel free to cut me off whenever you like.”

There’s a crunch and a massive amount of pain that makes Wirt stop talking. His head is spinning faster than a tornado, but he knows the feeling of hitting the school floor well enough to know it happens somewhere within the time he gets punched in the face a second time and kicked in the stomach the first.

He’s not entirely sure how long he’s on the floor, but he does know that when he finally opens his eyes Trevor is standing above him, heaving, staring at his own hands like they’re covered in blood- oh they are. That is blood. That is definitely blood. That’s a lot of blood. Wow.

Wirt pushes himself off of the ground, there’s an ache in every fiber of his being but the floor is cold and dirty and he’d rather not be down there right now. As he rises, slowly, he can see a steady drip of blood coming down from his face. That’s not good.

By the time he’s fully standing, Trevor looks ready to burst. “Wirt! Oh my god, dude. I am so fucking sorry, I didn’t. I don’t know why I. I never. Fuck I didn’t, I just, shit are you fucking okay?” the questions are rapid fire. Wirt’s a little too out of it to be able to tell if they’re genuine or not, and he doesn’t really care if they are at this point. This guy eats paste.

“Trevor.” Wirt finally says, “Shut the fuck up.” his words are slurred, and it’s obvious he’s still scared if the tremor in his voice is anything to go by, but he really just needs it to be quiet right now. To his credit, Trevor does shut up, but he just stands there.

There they are, two guys standing in a hallway, five feet apart cause one just beat the shit out of the other for being gay. Prom night is great. In his delirious state, Wirt can faintly hear ‘Lover Is a Day’ by Cuco playing from the gym. The beats pulse under his feet, and it’s just adding onto the pain right now.

After maybe five minutes, Trevor speaks up again. “Wirt I really am sorry, dude. I don’t know why I did that. I was pissed and you wouldn’t shut up and I didn’t what else to do! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Trevor hits the locker to his right with the side of his fist. The sound rings through the otherwise empty hall, and Wirt just stares at the first still on metal.

Wirt runs a hand through his hair, “That’s great and everything, but was the getting on top of me and repeatedly punching me in the nose necessary? Or, you know, any of it? You just fucking committed a hate crime dude, do you even realize that?” he’s talking slowly, his voice is tired and he would rather be anywhere else.

“I know! I know it was! But it honestly didn’t have anything to do with you being,” he pauses, and Wirt is about to finish for him before he continues on his own, “Gay. It didn’t have to do with you being gay, okay. I just. I have like severe anger issues. It’s some fucking long ass name, but the shortened thing is IED. It’s not really something I have any control over, and it’s been a while since I’ve had an episode that bad, and I promise it has nothing to do with you being gay or anything! That fucking chill, man! This stuff literally just happens, I swear on my motherfucking yeezys!” Wirt, who is finally coming back down to Earth and is able to process English language again, raises his brow, “ Okay, I don’t own yeezys, but you know what I mean.” He looks down to the floor, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Wirt sighs, wiping under his nose with his suit sleeve. It doesn’t help, the blood keeps flowing and now his suit is ruined. Fuck Prom night, dude. “Look, Trevor. If you actually have a genuine mental illness that does that, you get a fucking pass on the beating the shit out of me part.” Trevor flinches at that, “But you’re still kinda homophobic dude.”

Trevor looks up from the ground, “What? How?”

Wirt shrugs, crossing his arms again. “Assuming someone isn’t a lesbian when they say they are is pretty high on the list. Actually, assuming a gay guy is checking people out while they’re changing is also pretty high on the list. Both of the things you said are pretty high on the list, actually.”

This time it’s Trevor who furrows his brow, “But she isn’t a lesbian. I asked her why she thought she was a lesbian a couple weeks ago and she said it’s because she thinks girls are hot and that she wouldn’t mind kissing them, but that’s normal. Like, I know a couple guys in my classes that I wouldn’t mind kissing or like fucking or something and I’m not gay or whatever. Everyone thinks like that.”

Wirt’s mind just fucking imploded on itself. He’s joking. He has to be joking. Oh fuck he is not joking. Oh dear. Wirt cringes to himself, “Oh Jesus.” he whispers, “Trevor, you do know that isn’t a universal thing, right? Like, you know not every guy would be fine with fucking another guy, right?”

“Wait, really?” Trevor asks, his voice quiet. Wirt simply nods and watches as Trevor seems to contemplate his whole existence in front of him. “But I’m not. My mom told me that I couldn’t be gay, I just needed to find the right girl and it would be fine. I don’t like guys like that, I’m not.”

Fuck, why does Wirt have empathy. If he was a dick he could just walk away from this situation and not feel a thing, but he can’t leave this guy in a crisis. Even if he did just beat his ass.

“Trevor, why do you like Sara?”

“She’s funny, and kinda cool, I guess. I just want to hang out with her more, plus my friends kept saying I should go for it, so I figured why not.”

“Dude, you just want to be her fucking friend. That’s, what you want is a friendship. Jesus dude, you don’t even actually like her do you?”

Trevor shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, she’s cool and everything.”

“Would you kiss her.” Wirt asks.

“What?” 

“Would you kiss Sara. Or any girl for that matter.” He asks again, slower this time.

Trevor rolls his eyes, giving Wirt a look that suggest the answer should be obvious, but when he opens his mouth, no words come out. It stays open for about ten seconds before he frowns. “No I. I wouldn’t” he lets out a dry laugh void of humor. “Holy shit, I fucking wouldn’t. What the fuck.”

Wirt sighs taking a few steps over to Trevor, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Go home, Trevor. You have had more than enough action tonight.” his hand slides off and he turns around to find the nearest bathroom, he about to round a corner when he remembers something and looks over at Trevor, who hasn’t moved an inch, “Try to refrain from using the f-slur before you figure out your whole mess, maybe?” He gives the other boy a quick smile before walking away.

The nearest bathroom is way too fucking far away, in Wirt’s humble opinion. And why are half of the lights off in these hallways? God, he feels like the character about to die in a horror movie. Thankfully, the light switch in the bathroom was easy to find so he isn’t completely in the dark.

He grabs some paper towels and wets them, and then he finally looks in the mirror. Jesus fucking Christ.

Trevor did a number on him, and if it were any other situation that required less brain power he would be kinda impressed. His nose is definitely broken, if the aching and gushing blood are any indicator, he’s got a black eye, a busted lip, bruises across his face and collarbone -and if the amount of times he was kicked in the stomach is as many as it felt, he’s got them there too- and, the cherry on fucking top, his suit jacket ripped a little bit.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he finishes wiping the blood from his face, but his nose is still bleeding. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket he finds two new messages. One from Sara, saying she scored with the girl from her chem class and that she has a date next Saturday, and one from Dipper saying they’ve finally stopped driving.

Wirt texts Sara back congratulating her on her suaveness that she most definitely didn’t have (see: nearly puked on a cute girl for complimenting her shoes once) before opening up his texts with Dipper and taking a picture in the mirror holding up a peace sign. He masterfully captions the photo: ‘babys first hate crime <3′. 

His phone rings immediately.

He picks up right away, and is greeted with a very frantic, “Where are you?” there’s faint music in the background, they must be at their dance right now.

“Uhm. The bathroom in hallway E, I think. Why?” Wirt asks, throwing away the bloody paper towels.

“We’re on our way.” Is all he gets in response.

“What? You’re in California how are you supposed to. Did he fucking hang up on me?” Wirt pulls his phone away from his ear, “Wow, okay.” He pockets his phone and stares at himself in the mirror for a few seconds. It’s gonna suck having to explain this to anybody, and he knows his mom will go full Godzilla mode on the school board if he tells the truth, but he can’t just out someone. Fuck, man.

The door to the bathroom swings open and two rapid sets of footsteps approach him, he’s almost expecting to be beaten up again until he’s turned around and hugged tightly. His confusion only lasts for a second when his land on Mabel, but then it flares up again because what the fuck that’s Mabel.

He pushes away from the person hugging him and is met with a person he both did and did not expect to see.

“Dipper.” He not shocked that Dipper did actually find hallway E, they broke in last summer to investigate if the place is actually haunted (it is), so he learned the layout pretty well in that instance, but he’s shocked that he’s even in the room. “Wait. Am I concussed? Is this a hallucination?”

“Er, wrong!” Mabel says, pushing Dipper out of the way and hugging Wirt tighter than a strait jacket. He lets out a sound of pain and she lets him go immediately. “Sorry! I forgot you’re like, dying right now.”

“Not dying, per se, but getting there if my nose doesn’t stop bleeding soon. I didn’t even know I had this much blood, if I’m being honest.” Mabel laughs a bit and wow did he miss that sound. He missed them, really. It’s always better when they’re around.

“What happened?” Dipper’s voice finally enters the conversation, and it makes his heart flutter but also reminds him the situation in which they’ve been reunited. Especially if the pissed off tone is anything to go by.

Wirt shrugs, “I got into a fight?”

Dipper gives him a look, “You called it a hate crime, before.”

Wirt laughs, “Yeah, I know. But it wasn’t, technically? I don’t know I’m still having trouble processing the whole ordeal. But I just got into an argument with Trevor, you know who I’m talking about, and he got really mad so he fucking beat the shit out of me and,” Dipper turns to walk out the door but Wirt pulls him back by the arm, “don’t walk away, I’m not done yet. He has a thing called IED, or something? He didn’t know the full medical name for it, but he said it had to do with like uncontrollable anger? Like it just happens or something.”

Dipper nods, “Intermittent Explosive Disorder.”

“Yeah, probably. But he felt really bad after, and I can’t blame him for having something he can’t control, dude. That would be a dick move. But yeah, we talked it out I guess. I think I just made him question the entire universe.”

Dipper sighs, still tense but loosening now, “So you called it a hate crime, because?”

“Well, I mean, okay. At first I thought he did it because I was gay, but from our little conversation we had after, it was definitely not that.” 

Both twins raise eyebrow, “Are you gonna give us any more info, or?” Mabel asks and Wirt just shrugs. Dipper lets out another, deeper sigh. He’s known Wirt long enough to know that little shrug means ‘never in a million years ever’. 

“What are you guys doing here, anyways? I mean, I’m happy you’re here, but I live in Arizona? It’s like an eleven hour drive.”

Dipper shrugs, taking Wirt’s hand. “Guess I missed the ‘Team Roping Capital of the World’.” he teases and Wirt groans.

“Shut up! You know I think that’s stupid as shit.” He says, and as the twins laugh at him he takes a second to admire his boyfriends face. Dipper always laughs freely, and Wirt thinks that’s one of the reasons he fell in love with the younger (”by two days!”) boy at summer camp. His hair isn’t in his usual baseball cap with a pine tree on it, and is styled just the right way to cover his birthmark. He looks happy, if not still tense about the fact that Wirt got his ass beat. An easy smile finds it’s way onto Wirt’s face as Dipper calms down.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Dipper says, leading him towards the door. Mabel follows quickly behind, flicking off the light. She runs ahead of them, twirling around the hallway and nearly falling over herself in the process.

“So, I know Wirt is gonna wanna bounce because he’s covered in human juice.”

“Stop calling blood human juice.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Dipper. But what are we gonna do when we skedaddle out of here?”

Both twins look to the brunette for an answer, he huffs as he tries to think of something. “We could get burgers and shakes at McDonald's? And then head home, probably. Greg’s gonna be super excited to see you guys.”

“Oh! I can’t wait to see him! We’re here for the next four days, by the way, god I can’t wait!” She pushes open the doors to the gym and the music floods over them. Jesus, was it always that loud? How long had Wirt been away from the party?”

“What time is it?” He asks Dipper, trying to ignore all of the strange looks that are being sent his way. He can’t blame them, it looks like he got mauled by a pack of wild dogs.

“It is, nine forty-eight.” The other boy responds, Wirt nods as they exit the gym into the parking lot. Dipper’s car is still as messy as it was the year before, if not more, but Wirt thinks that just adds to the charm.

Sara, who had apparently been in front of the gym the whole night, drops her punch at the sight of Wirt. “Oh my god! Wirt!” she rushes over.

“I’m fine, Sare. Really. It’s all good.” He gives her a smile, but she doesn’t stop giving him a look.

“Trevor did this, didn’t he? You know he came out here like thirty minutes ago fucking covered in blood and looked like he pissed himself when he saw me. So don’t cover for him.”

“I’m not covering for Trevor! There were circumstances that I don’t know if I’m allowed to share.” Wirt says, gesturing wildly with his hands, thankfully Dipper doesn’t seem to mind.

“Wirt, if he’s blackmailing you just tell me. I can fix it!”

“Sare, I appreciate the thought, but this is really something that should be left alone, alright? I might tell you on a different day, but right now it is confidential. No I’m not being blackmailed, if anything the information I got out of him after everything could be considered blackmail, just. Not tonight, okay?” He can tell she doesn’t want to give up but he really can’t explain all of this right now, “Please?”

She sighs, “Alright. Fine. But I expect a detailed report of what happened tomorrow morning.” Wirt nods and it’s then Sara finally notices the twins, “Oh. You found him. Cool, see you guys.” The twins giver he simultaneous ‘later’s’ and she walks back to the girl from her chem class.

Mabel moves to get in the front seat before she’s stopped by Dipper, “Ah ah ah!” he says, gaining her attention. He passes her the keys and she whines but moves to the other side anyways.

“You fucking suck, Dip-stick.”

“Sorry that I want to be able to comfort my boyfriend in the backseat of my own car and can’t do that when I’m driving.” he opens the back door and motions for Wirt to get in, and once they’re all set they drive to the nearest McDonald's.

Ordering food had thus been the easier part of Wirt’s night, but he’s hoping things will start going up from here.

The food sits in the passengers seat in the quiet car before Mabel presses play on the car stereo. Wirt immediately looks up from where his head was buried in Dipper’s shoulder, a smile crossing his face.

“Isn’t this the mixtape I made you?” He turns back to Dipper, absolutely beaming.

Dipper’s face is red, but he nods. “Yeah. I listen to it sometimes.”

“Liar! He listens to it all the fucking time. I have it memorized by now.” Mabel calls from the front. Dipper kicks the back of her seat, “Shut up! At least I don’t have an entire folder dedicated to pictures of him on my phone!”

“My Pacifica picture collection is none of your business! And you have like eight hundred Polaroids on him on your wall, don’t even try that shit with me!” 

Dipper’s rebuttal is cut off when Wirt presses a kiss to his cheek. The younger boy turns and immediately presses their lips together in a kiss. It’s soft because of Wirt’s busted lip, but it’s still incredible. It’s never not incredible when it’s the two of them.

Mabel makes fake barfing noises, causing Dipper to flip her off, causing Wirt to laugh. They pull up to the drive way, walk through the front door, and are immediately greeted by Greg. He rushes into Wirt, giving him a tight hug. Even at ten years old, Greg still has as much energy as he did at six.

“Welcome home, brother o’ mine. How was, whoa what happened to your face?”

Wirt ruffles his little brothers hair, “I got into a fight with a dragon, dude. I won, obviously, but my jacket didn’t make it out alive.”

“I can fix that for you.” Mabel says taking his suit jacket, she’s almost knocked over when Greg charges into her next which makes her laugh. “Hey there, space cowboy. I missed you too!” She pulls him into a tight hug twirling him around the foyer before setting him back down. Dipper gives him a hug as well, just as tight but without all the spinning, and then Greg’s attention is back on Wirt.

“Okay. Why was this dragon mad at you?” He asks. This had become their thing ever since The Unknown. They would talk as if they were still there, or at least like they were in a fantasy world, and explain things to each other that way. Wirt thinks it helps them cope, but it’s probably just a result of being some weird kids.

“Anger issues.” Wirt says. That’s way too simple a phrase for it, and he knows that, but Greg is nine. He can explain it another day, but this is now and it’s ten o’clock.

Greg gives him a goofy grin, “Alright!” he says, skipping into the kitchen. The three teenagers follow him, Dipper once again takes Wirt’s hand.

“What were you doing in here little man?” Dipper asks, noticing that all of the chairs at the edge of the kitchen.

Greg picks up Jason Funderburker, the frog, and smiles again. “Well, Wirt was at his dance, and I wasn’t allowed to go with, so I made my own! Mom and dad are out tonight, too so I can play is as loud as I want!”

Greg being allowed to stay home alone tonight was a big decision. Not because no one trusted him but... okay yeah no one trusted him. Plus, it was dangerous! But, tonight was their mom and Johnathan's ten year anniversary and his mom didn’t want him to miss out on his Senior prom -no matter how much he assured her he could live without having gone- so it was the only option. No one was available to babysit, again prom night, and they couldn’t exactly take their nine year old to a bar. It doesn’t look like anything is on fire or broken yet, so Wirt can say it’s been a success so far.

“Alright then,space cowboy, lets get this party started!” Mabel says as she turns up the music. The song is ‘You Really Got Me’ by The Kinks, how Greg knows this song Wirt has no clue, and it bounces off the walls echoing up the stairs.

Greg does his weird jump step thing that he’s been doing since he could walk. It’s literally just jumping side to side to music, with the occasional dangerously fast spin, but it’s not a bad move. Jason Funderburker looks sick from all of the motion and Greg stops his movement just to let the frog go.

Mabel has always been a crazy dancer, just jumping around, arms flailing, hair going everywhere from her shaking her head. She’s probably going to poke someone’s eye out one of these days, but at least she’s having fun. Or, maybe she’s trying to poke someone’s eye out. Either way, she’s having a good time.

Dipper makes sure his arm movements hit every beat, spinning around for the parts where there are no hard beats to hit but smiling nonetheless. He looks like an idiot, and he knows he looks like an idiot, but what’s the point in being around all of your favorite people if you can’t look like an idiot in front of them?

Wirt, not much a dancer in normal circumstances, is going all out right now. He’s much more graceful than Mabel is being, but other than that they’ve got practically the same vibe. Except that Wirt actually did hit Dipper in the eye on accident earlier, but that’s in the past now.

The song ends and another begins and that cycle repeats for an hour until they’re all too tired for it anymore. Wirt sits down in one of the chairs, looking out over the kitchen. Greg is sitting on the floor with Jason Funderburker while the twins argue over what terrible movie to watch simply to make fun of it.

They both turn, “Wirt,” Dipper says, “What do you think?”

Wirt smiles. Maybe Prom night isn’t so bad after all. 

[not-close-to-straight]

You Give Love a Bad Name (Two)

MASTERLIST HERE

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

Chapter Two: Unfortunately, Somewhere in the Suburbs

Three years later. 

Monday

“Good morning, hon.” Bucky dropped a kiss on Natasha’s cheek and poured himself a cup of coffee, spilled a little over the rim and wiped it up with his hand. “Off to the office already?” 

“A real estate agent never stops.” She replied absentmindedly, scanning the newspaper and tapping her finger at a classified ad. “Did you see the HOA finally put out that advertisement for a new landscaping company?” 

“Well it’s about time, the shrubs are looking absolutely wild.” Bucky checked his watch, then sipped at his coffee. “They did the right thing, advertising in the paper. I’ll never understand why people think the online advertising is the right way to go. Nothing is better than a good old fashioned help wanted ad.” 

“Oh absolutely, the technology behind advertising on line and the ways people can track you through the computers makes me sick to my stomach. Honestly, I’m intimidated just using a smart phone.” Natasha lied her way through a piece of wheat toast. “What about you, darling? Off to save the world one carefully drawn blue print at a time?” 

“The glamorous life of an architect.” Bucky finished his drink and thunked the cup down into the sink. “I get to oversee a building demo today, so that should be fun.” 

“Sounds very fun.” Natasha didn’t even look up from her paper. “Have a good day, dear.” 

“You too, hon.” 

Bucky waved to one of their neighbors as he headed to the garage, waved to another as he got in the car, paused politely to let the dog walker and her bunch cross behind him, then pulled out onto the street at a modest pace and headed towards the office. 

Or rather, headed towards the site of a soon-to-be demo’d building where he had a wildly sketchy baddie still tied to a chair waiting to be persuaded to give up some information. 

“Barnes.” Brock grunted at him when Bucky shoved through the doors of the building, tactical vest on, photostatic skin shredding off his left arm and hand so he could flex bright silver fingers. “You ready for this?” 

“Fuckin’ always.” Bucky rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, forced out a sigh. Leaving the house and coming to work always felt like freedom, getting rid of the camouflage material that hid his robotic arm felt like breathing. Three years in the goddamn suburbs on Pierce’s idea of a deep cover mission was fucking torture and some days Bucky just needed to hit something. 

“Hey pal, you ready to talk?” He lowered his voice to a near growl, rough and hard edged with a Russian accent and even Brock took a step away when the Winter Soldier emerged from the soft spoken, polo wearing, lawn mowing golf enthusiast Bucky had transformed into in the past few years. 

“Jesus Christ.” the guy breathed, eyes widened in fear and fingers tightening in his bonds. “You’re-- you’re the-- they said you died! They said you died!” 

“Winter never dies.” Bucky leaned in close, nose to nose with their captive, pale eyes glowing with a rush of adrenaline because this was who he was and it felt good to be him again. “Now then. You ready to talk?” 

“She’ll kill me.” he whispered and Bucky whispered back, “You tell me where the Black Widow is right this fuckin’ second or there won’t be nothing left of you for anyone to find, you understand? YA porezhu tebya na kuski i sam s"yem.” 

“She-- she’s in New York.” came the stuttered answer. “N-New York. Undercover somewhere deep. That’s all I know, I promise.” 

“Get me a fork.” Bucky snarled and their captive nearly screeched, “She’s got a mission on Friday! Down by the border taking out a hostage before he changes hands! Friday! Get me a computer and I can get you the information!” 

“That’s better.” 

“Hey.” Rumlow bumped Bucky as they passed again. “Did you tell him that you’d eat him? Is that what you said?” 

“All these years working together and you still don’t understand my Russian?” Bucky grinned at his friend. “You kiddin’ me?” 

“Look in my defense, you go from talkin’ like some asshole outta a Brooklyn musical to growling that shit like a super villain.” Brock pointed out. “I spend half the time figuring out your normal words, much less your scary ass threats. Now did you tell him you were going to eat him or not?” 

“Told him I’d cut him in pieces and eat him, yeah.” Bucky grabbed a bottle of water. “Why?” 

“Cos then you said to get a fork.” Brock said blandly and the ultra fearsome Winter Soldier waggled his eyebrows in laughter. “Dude, you’re a dumbass.” 

“Well it scared him enough to give up some intel on the Widow.” Bucky shrugged. “Three years we’ve been chasing her and no one’s seen even a sign of the bitch. We finally got a clue.” 

“You threatened him with a fork.” 

“Well it worked, didn’t it?!” 

“Huh.” Brock watched Bucky for a minute. “Hows that hottie you get to call wife?” 

“Natasha’s just fine.” Bucky ignored the twinge in his soul at the thought of Natasha, of all the ways she’d turned out to not be the woman he’d fallen in love with, the woman he’d jumped at the chance to marry. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just wondering if you’re getting tired of the assignment.” Brock replied casually, too casually. “Hell, I wish Pierce had told me to go deep cover with someone that hot. Never thought I’d be jealous of a married man, but you hit the jackpot.” 

“I’m married, Brock.” Bucky said shortly. “We have breakfast every morning, dinner together every night, date night on Wednesdays. We live in the suburbs and play backgammon with the neighbors on the weekends. What about that sounds like a jackpot?” 

“You told me when you met Natasha she could put back tequila shot for shot and then ran you ragged all night.” 

“She did.” 

“So what changed?” Brock pressed. “Is she not fun anymore?” 

“Let’s just say Natasha fully embraced the housewife life, and sometimes I wish she…” Bucky braced both hands on the table and shook his head. “...never mind. It doesn’t matter. Her being so checked out of the marriage makes it easy to keep my cover up. Hell, she doesn’t even ask about my arm anymore. The photostatic cling stays on and since I wear jammies--” 

“Jammies?!” 

“--Fuck off. Since I wear jammies to bed, she doesn’t even see the scars. It’s fine. It’s working out.” 

“Sounds boring.” Rumlow countered, and Bucky muttered, “Yeah well, it’s only a job, right?” 

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

Tuesday

“Good morning, hon.”  Bucky dropped a kiss on Natasha’s cheek and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Off to the office already?” 

“A real estate agent never stops.” Natasha watched out of the corner of her eye as Bucky picked up the coffee and poured himself a cup. Predictably, he spilled it just a little bit, wiped it up with his hand and kept right on drinking. “I’m off to show those new condo’s downtown, the high rise ones? Should be a decent commission.” 

“Maybe we should look into getting you a new car then.” Bucky suggested and Natasha hmm’d quietly. “You’re traveling so much lately, you need something with better gas mileage.” 

“Maybe.” she agreed cordially. “We could talk about it over date night.” 

“Date night.” Bucky repeated, and Natasha arched an eyebrow when her husband looked confused for a minute. “Tonight?” 

“Tomorrow.” she corrected with a faux bright smile. “Wednesdays, remember? Always Wednesday.” 

“Always Wednesday.” Bucky finished his coffee and nodded. “Did the HOA decide on a landscaping company?” 

“Not yet, but I’ve registered an extension for fixing our hedges so we don’t get fined while waiting for the new company.” Natasha promised and her heart squeezed a little when Bucky gave her a grateful smile. “Have a good day at work, alright?” 

“You too, hon.” 

Bucky whistled on his way out to the garage, and Natasha sipped at her coffee once, twice, then picked up the phone. 

“This is Romanov. Have we found him yet?” 

“No. Our missing tech is still missing. The CCTV footage of him being snatched hasn’t led to anything, we have no idea who yanked him and no idea where they put him.” 

“God dammit!” Natasha swore out loud and pitched the coffee cup at the wall, watched it shatter against the hidden panel where she kept her not-quite-culinary-appropriate knives. “Who the hell is even half good enough to snatch one of my techs and then disappear!? Who?!” 

“It gets worse.” 

“HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY GET WORSE!” 

“The Winter Soldier has reappeared.” 

...Natasha went very still. “What? That’s impossible. I killed him three years ago.” 

“Apparently not. We have definitive proof that the Winter Soldier is active again.” 

“You think he snatched our guy?” 

“I think that the only reason the Winter Soldier would come out of hiding is to take down the one person who always eluded him.” 

“Me.” 

“You.” Maria agreed. “Can you convince your husband you need to leave town over night? We’ve got to get ahead of this, Tasha.” 

“Bucky is beautiful but sort of brainless.” Natasha closed her eyes and tried not to curse again. “And we haven’t said more than two words to each other about anything real in years. So long as I don’t miss date night tomorrow, he won’t care if I’m gone. Probably won’t even notice.”  

“Date night Wednesday night.” Maria chuckled. “Wow, marriage life sounds super fun. Italian again? Third table from the back and a glass of wine each and then a nice round of missionary position intercourse? Spicy.” 

“It’s a perfect cover.” Natasha drummed her fingers on the counter irritably. “Plus it’s a lot easier to lie to Bucky when all he wants to talk about is interest rates and the new lawnmower the Belanger’s have.” 

“Oh my god, Tasha.” Maria was full on laughing now. “Are you sure this is the same guy who gave you the ride of your life? I was sort of jealous when Fury told you to marry the guy and settle down for a while, but lately I’m thinking I prefer Sam’s wonderfully breezy basketball shorts to Bucky’s high waisted, pleated khakis and polo shirts.” 

“Maria, no one misses Bucky’s speedo days more than me.” Natasha snorted. “But it’s a mission so how I feel about it doesn’t matter. And honestly, it’s nice to be married to someone who prefers to sleep in full clothes, he can’t ask about my scars and random injuries if I’m wearing a floor length ruffled nightgown.” 

Maria cackled with laughter over the phone and Natasha pursed her lips. “Maria, focus. Winter Soldier.” 

“Yes ma’am. Head out immediately, we’ll rendezvous at the normal place and start making a plan.” 

“I’ll break out my leather.” 

“And I can’t wait to see you in it.” 

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

Wednesday

“How was work?” Bucky twirled his pasta around his fork and took a big bite. “Sell any of those condos last night?” 

“Two of them.” Natasha sipped at her wine then cut a dainty piece of chicken. “I hope you didn’t mind me having to stay overnight in the city?” 

“I fell asleep on the couch watching the soccer game.” Bucky said, and it wasn’t technically a lie, the soccer game had been on television and he had fallen asleep… after hours of dismantling and cleaning every gun in his below-garage arsenal so he was one hundred percent ready for Friday’s mission. “I hate sleeping in our bed when you aren’t there, so it worked out alright.” 

Also not a lie. Bucky hated sleeping alone in their bed when he’d much rather be wound tight around Natasha. Of course it had years since they’d slept plastered together like they had in those first few months but it was still nice to fall asleep smelling Tasha’s perfume. 

“Was your team playing?” Natasha asked as if she had any idea which team Bucky preferred. “How many touchdowns?” 

“Touchdowns is football, hon.” Bucky corrected and Natasha feigned an embarrassed, “Oh sheesh. Sorry. You know I’m just hopeless with all of that.” 

“That’s alright, I’m pretty sure somewhere in our vows I promised to endlessly teach you about sports.” 

“I’m pretty sure somewhere in our vows you promised to cook for me once a week too.” Natasha was teasing, and Bucky winked in response and for a moment it felt like they were going to actually talk, to actually communicate and maybe even flirt--

--but then the waitress came by with a refill on water and the moment was over, wiped away and replaced by conciliatory smiles and normal date night appropriate small talk as they shared the normal date night slice of chocolate cake.

Then it was a walk home beneath stars that used to feel romantic, the normal date night kisses at the top of the stairs and Bucky being so gentle gentle when he stretched out over Natasha on the bed, Natasha biting her lip to quiet any sort of too loud noise when he gently gently opened her around his fingers, both of them falling together gently gently because Bucky was terrified to hurt his little wife and Natasha knew she couldn’t demand harder without her clueless husband thinking it was odd. 

Gentle gentle like it was every date night and Bucky always made sure she finished first before he did, and then he was gentle smoothing her nightgown back over her hips and gentle dotting a kiss to her forehead and gentle until he went to the bathroom and tried not to scream in frustration because he needed so much more from Natasha and once upon a time he’d thought she was everything. 

Gentle gentle as Natasha cleaned between her thighs because even though Bucky wasn’t exactly a Bronco anymore he was still huge and they honestly didn’t do this enough for her to not be sore afterwards. 

Gentle gentle when Bucky got back into bed with her and pulled her in for a hug and Natasha pressed her lips to his ear and whispered, “I love being with you.” and Bucky only smiled down at her like it didn’t break his heart right in half to realize she never said ‘I love you’ anymore at all. 

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

Thursday

“Oh here’s Natasha, I was just telling you about her!” Missy Belanger hurried over to where Natasha was sat primly on the world’s most uncomfortable couch with another carbon copy suburban housewife in tow. “Remember last week when those hoodlums down the way broke my window? Bucky Barnes was the nice man who came over and fixed it and Natasha is his lucky little wife!” 

“Lucky little wife.” Natasha forced her smile to be sweet instead of patronizing, made sure her mid calf length skirt fully covered the fishnet stockings from her last minute assignment, and stood to her feet to shake the newcomers hand. “That’s me. Natasha Barnes.” 

“So nice to meet you!” Good god were the women in this neighborhood plastic. Three years and Natasha had yet to get used to Botoxed smiles and expensively whitened teeth, a perma lack of wrinkles thanks to husbands with fat bank accounts. She was a super spy, but her best disguise had nothing on perfectly put together prima donnas and their color coordinated outfits. 

“So.” Bright eyed and bushy tailed Mrs. Belanger patted at Natasha’s knee. “So I was just telling Nadine all about how you and your Prince Charming met, but it’s so much like a fairy tale, I thought you could tell it better!” 

“Oh!” This again, and Natasha inwardly groaned. It was too bad Mrs. Belanger and her friends were saddled with golf playing, stock exchange following, plaid short wearing husbands but that wasn’t her fault. Not her job to entertain them over and over with the story of how she and Bucky met-- and how she proceeded to then lie to the man for every day of the following three years. 

“It was vacation somewhere beautiful and tropical, and I was not looking for love. I was only looking for the next white wine spritzer to keep the heat away.” Natasha knew the story by heart, the one she’d practiced over and over with Fury and Marie’s coaching. 

She and Bucky had met on vacation, ran into each other almost two months later in the city. She’d been shocked to see Bucky of all people in her usual coffee shop, that aw shucks smile every bit as gorgeous as she remembered, pale eyes sparkling as he explained why his arm and shoulder were bandaged up, told her about how he’d wrenched it too hard wind sailing and had to have surgery, that he’d never expected to find her but boy howdy they should have dinner anyway. 

“He said boy howdy and she still agreed to a date!” one of the women-- Jacqueline? Shelby? Natasha couldn’t keep them straight, they all look the same-- exclaimed and just like always, Natasha put a hand over her heart and laughed. 

“I did! I couldn’t help myself!” 

She didn’t say anything about how Fury had leapt at the chance for a foolproof cover for the infamous Black Widow, hiding in plain sight because no one would ever think she’d trade in her bikinis and spandex for ankle length skirts and modest necklines, give up her knives and guns for a spice rack and a spot on the Homeowners association. It was a perfect cover and her orders had been to pursue the relationship to it’s inevitable end, to make the goofy Bronco fall in love with her and propose. 

“Six months.” she told the group of gathered ladies, remembering to pause long enough for them to ooh and ahh, then to look over at where Bucky was laughing with some of the husbands.. “From vacation to dinner together and then married. It was the most exciting six months of my life.” 

“And you’re celebrating three years together soon?” 

“Next week is three years since we met.” Natasha confirmed. “We celebrate the day we met for the first time, and then of course our wedding anniversary.” 

“It’s so romantic.” One of the women bounced her newest baby on her hip and sighed longingly. “I think the last time Gerald was even slightly romantic was the night we conceived this little Bubba. I see the way Bucky looks at you, Natasha and I’m so jealous I could scream.” 

“Holly!” another one gasped. “Are you and Gerald having problems?” 

“Not compared to what Richard and Kathy are going through.” Holly instantly defended and all heads-- except Natasha’s-- swiveled towards Kathy. “At least Gerald and I can have a civilized dinner without dishes being thrown through a window!” 

Natasha tuned out the resulting argument, as if thinly veiled insults and pointed looks at each others outfits could be called an argument, and instead turned her attention to where Bucky stood with the other men. 

He was so so gorgeous even when those muscles were covered by the world’s most boring button up, his butt somehow still spectacular even beneath pleated khakis, and even though Bucky had taken to wearing his long hair pulled back into a neat bun and his face shaved smooth, Natasha still saw bits and pieces of the man that had been both her mark and the one that swept her right off her feet. 

It had been a moment of weakness, a moment of loneliness when Natasha had agreed to Fury’s insane plane to hide the Black Widow in middle class America and it was probably Natasha’s fault their marriage wasn’t anything other than a sham. She’d never been cut out for domestic life anyway, and certainly not domestic life that was only a cover for her real life. The first few months with Bucky had been fine but then Widow’s necessary lies had built up and cut into all the moments where newlyweds were supposed to be vulnerable and truthful... 

...and instead of fighting for her, instead of fighting for them, Bucky had gone from the most fun man in the world to the most boring person in the world over night, talking about new grills and low re-financing options and how hybrid cars were going to change the world. Natasha closed herself off to avoid giving up her cover and Bucky seemed perfectly content with letting it be. Natasha had forced herself into the domestic housewife role but Bucky had given up speedos and tequila fast enough to give her whiplash and next thing she knew they were buying a house in the suburbs and joining the HOA, having the same few meals and half a glass of wine for dinner every night at six-thirty, except for Wednesday night which was date night so they went out for Italian and had a full glass of wine instead. 

She could be sad over what might have been her one shot at true, exciting love later but for now she had to get through this party and then get some sleep because tomorrow was a big day. 

Snatching a hostage at the border was the perfect way to draw the Winter Soldier out and the perfect chance for Natasha to finally kill the one person she’d never been able to get her hands on. Hell, they didn’t even know what the Soldier looked like but that would all change tomorrow. 

Out in the yard, Darren nudged Bucky and inclined his head towards the house. “Your lady’s looking at you. You two are coming up on three years soon, aren’t you?” 

“Yep here pretty soon.” Bucky checked on Natasha and sent her a smile, got a perfectly bland smile back in return and tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. “Yeah, three-- three years since we met.” 

“Got married in just a few months, isn’t that right?” There was someone new in the neighborhood, someone new to the monthly bar-be-cue and while Bucky hadn’t caught his name, he knew the wife had been chatting up Natasha just a few minutes ago. “I can see why. If my Martha looked like that, I would have married her in a few months too.” 

“Can’t believe you two haven’t popped out a couple kids yet.” Someone else ribbed. “I’d never let Natasha out of bed! No sir!” 

Bucky hid a grimace over the callous words, and took a sip of his light beer. For a bunch of guys who wore pastel colors and went for the same haircut every two weeks to avoid looking shaggy, the men in the neighborhood could sure be pervy. They got together over poorly cooked steak and half burnt burgers to talk about sports teams and whatever the financial quarter was doing, to ogle each other’s wives and complain about a lack of getting lucky and inevitably someone made a comment about how drop dead gorgeous Natasha was and Bucky--

--hell, Bucky had to agree. Even in those damn long dresses and never showing her shoulders and any cleavage anymore Natasha was gorgeous. She wore her hair clipped back a lot now, her make up subdued and smiles only half as brilliant as they used to be, but she was still the most beautiful woman in the entire world. Still made Bucky’s knees weak. Still made him laugh. Still made him ache. 

He missed her, missed the Natasha he’d fallen in love with, missed the late night conversations and the wicked way she smiled and the way she used to breathe ‘I love you viciously’ into his skin when she finished…

“Darling, shall we?” Natasha was suddenly at his side and Bucky startled out of his thoughts in time to put an arm around her waist and hug her lightly. “I have an early day tomorrow, remember?” 

“Of course.” Bucky was grateful for the reprieve, even if it meant he had to shift back into lying mode. He might actually put a bullet in his skull if he had to listen to one more conversation with these guys, and even though the conversations with Natasha weren’t exactly engaging anymore… he loved her. 

God he loved her. 

“Let’s go home. I’ll see you fellas later, alright?” Bucky reminded himself to grimace when Darren patted at his left shoulder, even shied away a little so the man wouldn’t realize he’d connected with solid steel. 

“Oh, sorry about that.” Darren apologized, both hands raised peacefully. “Sorry, bud. I forgot about your shoulder.” 

“What happened to your shoulder?” the new guy wanted to know, and Darren answered for Bucky. “He tore it up real bad wind sailing and had to get a full reconstruction. That’s why he can’t golf for shit, his arms all screwed up.” 

“That’s why I can’t golf for shit.” Bucky confirmed, and briefly envisioned breaking a nine iron over Darren’s head just to shake things up a bit. “The secret’s out.” 

A chorus of sympathetic groans and well wishes and Bucky waved them off as he directed Natasha out through the back gate and along the sidewalk to their place. 

The moment the lights from the party faded, Bucky let his arm fall away and Natasha sent him a brief smile before huddling deeper into her light sweater, rubbing her arms against the early evening chill. 

“I um--” Bucky cleared his throat. “I like your dress tonight, Tasha. You always look real pretty in green.” 

“Oh, thank you.” Natasha smoothed down the front of her dress idly. “I saw it in the summer catalog I borrowed from Rebekah. Everything this season points towards jewel tone colors and slimming lines in sheath dresses and--” 

Bucky tuned her out and instead focused on what was going to happen tomorrow. The chance to snatch a hostage before he was handed over and the chance to actually see the Black Widow in person before putting a bullet through her heart was too good to pass up. 

Years and years of work was going to finish up tomorrow and once the Widow was out of the picture, Bucky knew he had a chance at getting out of this particular job. No need for the Winter Soldier to stay under cover suburban when the only person who was a viable threat would be eliminated. No need for Bucky to keep listening to Natasha drone on about this seasons fashion pieces once he was free to move around again. No need to keep wearing the photostatic skin and hiding who he really was once he didn’t have to play golf with the assholes in the other cul de sac. 

No need to--

“Bucky?” Natasha paused at their door. “You haven’t said a word the entire walk. Everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine, doll.” He said quickly. “And I think you’re right. The summer line jewel tones are great, you look real pretty. Bout enough to make a fella half crazy.” 

“Hmm.” Natasha’s eyes flashed in interest and for a split second she almost looked like the Natasha he’d fallen for that night on the beach, but then it fell away and that irritatingly bland smile replaced the spark. “I bought you a new tooth brush, did you see?” 

“Yeah, hon.” Bucky quiet a sigh and pushed the door open for her. “Yeah, I saw. Thank you. Dunno what I’d do without you.” 

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

Friday

“How are you feeling?” Maria handed Natasha her favorite rifle. “Ready to kill someone?” 

“Ridiculously ready to kill someone.” Natasha blew her bangs off her forehead and tugged to loosen the collar at her jacket. “It's a thousand degrees out here, the hostage we’re watching deserves a bullet for being a piece of shit, but instead I have to sit here and wait for the Winter Soldier to maybe show up. Yeah, I’m ready to kill someone.” 

“Target is already acquired, we found a sniper’s nest here on the other side of the ridge.” Maria showed Natasha the computer specs. “No indication we’ve been spotted, you picked an excellent spot.” 

“I always do.” Natasha brought the rifle up to her shoulder and checked the scope. “Come on Winter, you bastard. Show me your face so I can put a hole through it.” 

“You are intense today.” Maria commented. “Date night sex this week was less satisfying than usual?” 

“I’m just counting down the hours until I can make a call to Fury and get out of this stupid domestic assignment.” Natasha was grateful the gun blocked most of her face because Maria always knew when she was lying. “Life in the suburbs is not all it’s cracked up to be.” 

“No shit.” Maria snorted. “Go home and get one last ride from the Bronco and cut those ties. I’ll take you Vegas and we’ll blow off some steam--” 

She shut up when Natasha raised her hand, hunkered down and lifted her own specs. 

“I see you.” Natasha whispered, zeroing in on the tiny figure over a thousand yards away, dark hair and pale skin and the undeniable outline of a heavy duty sniper rifle over his shoulder. “You frosty bastard, you are--” 

***

“--mine.” Bucky dialed in his scope and stuck crosshairs over the vaguely humanoid shape he knew had to be the Widow. No one else would be at this exact spot at this exact moment, no way anyone else would have access to the same information about the hostage hand off and he knew the Widow wouldn’t be able to resist such a sweet bag. 

“You are mine, you red haired green eyed little--” Bucky froze when the Widow shifted into clearer focus and her head covering fell away. “...no.” 

***

“Take the shot.” Maria whispered when Natasha sucked in a harsh breath and took her finger off the trigger. “Tasha, what are you waiting for?” 

“That son of a bitch.” she breathed. “How in the fuck…” 

***

“Barnes, take the fucking shot, we’ve been tracking this girl for years! Take the shot!” 

“I-- I can’t.” Bucky dropped the gun like it was burning his fingers, ducked back behind the rocky outcropping and drove his fingers into his hair. “Shit, I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“I can’t.” he said again, and ignored the string of black curses as Rumlow called in the failed mission. “Christ, I just can’t. I can’t--” 

He dug his phone out from his pocket and dialed Tasha’s number, held it up to his ear and closed his eyes and prayed…

***

“Your husband is calling.” Maria whispered next to Natasha. “Take the shot, answer the phone, let’s get on with our life. 

“Let it go to voicemail.” Natasha tightened her grip on the rifle and kept staring down the sights at Bucky, her heart in her throat and tears pricking behind her eyes. “Let it go to voicemail.”

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

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

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @quietgayguy @nanita90a @justaniche @allthingsmarvel100 

[thanksjro]

Spotlight: Hoist - This One’s About the Guy I Keep Mistaking for Hound.

It’s time to focus on the straight man. Not, like, straight as in hetero. Don’t get it twisted, Hoist is queer by default just like every Cybertronian in IDW, not that that’s been established in-canon just yet. No, Hoist is the straight man because he’s the grounding line in this issue.

Hoist, as established during Spotlight: Trailcutter, is off the Lost Light currently on a mission. At this exact moment, he’s running from something.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Hoist!

No, he manages to escape Tarn’s grasp by doing some sweet grappling hook drifting using his tow line, and books it for the crashed shuttle that all his fellow mission-goers are hiding out in. Missionaries, if you will. Looks like Swerve left right after Trailcutter hung up on him, so it’s probably for the best that he didn’t get that forcefield around his voice box. Can’t imagine it working at that long a range. Sunstreaker’s here, along with his pet, Bob. Sunstreaker’s feeling a little salty right now, probably because he’s supposed to be the handsome one, and instead he’s got some sort of face thing going on in this issue.

Yeah, nobody looks quite right in Spotlight: Hoist. Then again, maybe I just don’t get Cybertronian beauty standards.

On that note, let’s take a real quick look at our interior artist for this issue, Agustin Padilla. Padilla doesn’t have a ton of work within the Transformers franchise, but he’s worked on some iconic pieces- specifically, MTMTE #16, The Gloaming. 

Yeah, THAT one. We’ll get more into his work when we hit that issue, I promise.

Back to the story at hand: Hoist puts on the cloaking device for the ship, hiding them from Tarn, then gripes to Swerve about the scanner scope being a huge friggin’ liar, because it said that there wasn’t a gotdang thing out there, because there clearly is. Swerve is less than thrilled by the prospect of having Tarn in the general vicinity, to the point that he forgets how to talk for a solid .5 seconds. Swerve’s seen the DJD in action, and it’s not pretty.

They’ve got six hours before the cloaking shields drain the power, then it’s goodbye Safetytown, hello Murderville. So, what better way to spend their final hours than by sniping at one another over things like fault and who’s gotten the shortest end of the stick here?

Looks like Perceptor has a pretty strong lead on all the other guys, seeing as his legs have become one with the ship. Hoist’s busy trying to get in touch with the Lost Light, though no one’s picking up. Gee, wonder why.

Swerve is really in a needling mood, as he asks Sunstreaker where his apology is, seeing as he was the one piloting the ship when they crashed. Sunstreaker blows a gasket for a second over the fact that all he seems to do these days is apologize. Hoist manages to calm the situation and change the topic pretty smoothly, as he fiddles around with the internals of the shuttle to try and get the Lost Light’s attention.

Good at multitasking, Hoist is.

We get the backstory on Bob, who Sunstreaker found after Metroplex woke up and decimated the local Insecticon population on Cybertron, almost certainly upsetting the balance of the ecosystem and traumatizing poor Bob. Yes, even our dog stand-ins have trauma in MTMTE. Sunstreaker, in true pet-owner fashion, baby-talks Bob, saying that he’ll bite that big, nasty Tarn if he gets near them, won’t he? Oh yes he will! Yes he will! What a good boy, yes you are!

Swerve isn’t so optimistic.

Well, that’s certainly a sentence I just read with my own two eyes. Really hoping this is a bit of hyperbole, because I’d hate to think just what sort of life Swerve’s led that resulted in him watching a guy triple his size give himself an enema.

Sunstreaker, who knows that Swerve is kind of a massive baby, isn’t terribly impressed with how scared the DJD made Swerve, accidentally strokes the guy’s ego for a moment.

Swerve, completely on the defensive now, lists off the five things he’s afraid of. Hoist butts in to point out the implausibility of Swerve’s fears.

Smash cut to four hours later, and Swerve hasn’t slowed down a bit, having talked to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore. Sunstreaker’s about had it with this marathon bashing he’s receiving, and suggests that Swerve pick on Hoist for a change. Swerve declines, saying that there just isn’t enough material to work with, because Hoist is boring.

Fun fact, this is his character quote for his introductory paragraph on the Wiki article. He had so little characterization up to this point, this is what they went with. Such is the fate of many of the Transformers who didn’t enter the original 80s cartoon until the second season. Roberts decided to run with it and take the rare opportunity to NOT give someone mental illness so severe and unchecked it’s simultaneously sad and hilarious. Hoist is probably the only dude in the entirety of the IDW run to just be a regular person.

After Swerve confirms that he does in fact know his colors, we blow past another hour, to find Hoist hard at work cutting Perceptor off of the ceiling/floor- Hoist, like most everyone on the Lost Light, is a doctor- as Sunstreaker and Swerve discuss previous scrapes they’ve gotten through. Apparently Sunstreaker fell off a bridge forever ago that was named after a biblical reference, because it doesn’t matter how little you believe in a higher power, you CANNOT escape the pull of the 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜.

Swerve asks Hoist if he has anything to contribute to the discussion, and while Hoist does have experience in near-death situations, he’d really rather not talk about it. Swerve respects his privacy.

Well, he tries.

Hoist indulges our little red and white idiot, because it’ll get everyone the Swerve-equivalent of peace and quiet, and begins his tale.

Long story short, it looks like another hotshot pilot had the same idea as Hoist’s, and things got a little crashy-explodey-everyone’s-deady. Hoist was the only survivor, and had to walk his sorry butt back to civilization. Then the exhaustion set in, and he was forced to sit there, fully convinced that he would die alone in the middle of nowhere.

Once he’s finished with his story, Hoist makes the horrific discovery that Swerve’s been bleeding to death over the last five hours, and failed to mention it.

No, Sunstreaker, he’s honestly just like that all the time.

Swerve’s spark casing has ruptured, which I can only imagine is somewhat similar to having a hole poked in your heart. A problem, to put it lightly. Sunstreaker and Hoist decide that, to keep Swerve from biting it, they’ll take the fight to the DJD, in an attempt to get some sort of transport back to the Lost Light and all the tasty medical equipment on board.

Man, it really is unfortunate that Rung’s still not got a head at this point in the timeline, because Swerve is like a jelly donut filled with self-loathing. God just took a jumbo-sized bakery syringe and jammed it right in there.

Hoist and Sunstreaker ignore Swerve’s protests/pained screaming, and gear up for a fight with what they can find. Hoist manages to make two working crossbows and a butt-ton of arrows, not to mention a couple bowie knives in about five minutes, and they head out to kick some tushie.

The lads split up, keeping in touch via communicators, and Sunstreaker manages to get found by Tarn. He gets his ass kicked, because of course he does- the DJD aren’t famous for their macramé and pies, they’re famous for super-murder and being horny for the Decepticause. As Sunstreaker has the realization that he’s leaving his beloved Bob behind, Hoist finds him. Sunstreaker’s in quite the pickle, because he’s had his chest blown in, and Tarn’s been replaced by Shockwave, Megatron, Sixshot, and Overlord.

This just gets better and better doesn’t it?

Then this happens:

Welp.

Swerve’s theory may hold some water, but we can’t worry about that right now, because Hoist is going to try and fight this bastard. Good luck with that, Hoist.

Yeah, that went about as well as it could have.

Hoist is about to get stomped like a bug, when the Con-biner suddenly phases out of existence. Weird.

Hoist runs back to the shuttle, I guess just leaving Sunstreaker in the middle of that clearing, even though he literally is a tow truck. He returns to find that Swerve’s passed out from blood loss, but Perceptor’s still awake, which is good, because there’s some grade-A bullshit going on on this planet, and we need the smart guy to info-dump for the sake of the plot.

Man, this is such a cool plot device, and I’m so mad it never comes up again after this Spotlight.

So, Tarn and all the big bads that Hoist ran into weren’t real, but projections of his and his team’s worst fears. It was feeding off of Swerve, but now that he’s down for the count, it’ll probably go for either Hoist or Perceptor next.

Then there’s what feels like an earthquake, one so powerful it finally removes Perceptor from the ceiling, letting what’s left of his body fall. Hoist runs outside to see just what the hell’s happening now, only to find Metroplex outside and closing in.

The phobia shields work on sub-sentient creatures too? Good lord, this thing just never stops, does it?

Thinking quickly, Hoist scoops up Swerve and the upper half of Perceptor and bolts for the edge of the cliff their ship is sitting next to. He must have been training for the Robot Olympics or something, because he makes the leap by a large margin, even when weighed down by two limp bodies.

Then he punches Perceptor in the face, knocking him out cold.

Then he commits an act of animal abuse as he knocks Bob out with his tow hook.

Our hero, folks! Let’s give him a hand!

As Metroplex fades out of existence, Hoist remembers that he is not immune to trauma, as he’s forced to sit there, completely alone, until help arrives.

No wonder he got that massive Rodimus Star. What a trooper.

Thus ends Spotlight: Hoist, as well as the Spotlight series as a whole.

So, Swerve may not have much of a read on Hoist, but I figure I can try and take a stab at it. Hoist is… helpful. The entire issue, he’s the one who never stops doing things. If he’s not trying to repair the shuttle, he’s cutting Perceptor out of the floor, or he’s patrolling the perimeter, or trying to defuse the tension between his crewmates, or building weaponry, or punching people in the face for the greater good.

The folks he’s surrounded with for his Spotlight accent the characteristics he lacks- he’s not insanely smart like Perceptor, or strikingly handsome like Sunstreaker is intended to be, or capable of holding a conversation like Swerve. He blends into the background, always has and always will, both within canon and as a character.

He’s just a guy. He’s the guy,  a jack of all trades, master of none. And that’s okay.

[heli0s-writes]

II. Of cinnamon rolls and Soldats

Summary: A couple of months pass-- making friends as an adult is weird. But, everyone loves your dog, so it's fine! Really, it's fine! Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N: Steve Rogers is a scheming lil punk

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

“You’re serious?” Bucky grumbles as Steve happily struts towards the door of their apartment—elbows bent, arms swinging, giddy whistling and all. “A dog?”

Steve shrugs as he leans against the door, picking his key ring from the hooks on the wall and twirling it annoyingly around his pointer finger. Bucky pours himself a glass of orange juice and eyes the bottle of vodka on their alcohol rack. He curses the serum because a screwdriver would definitely lift his mood. Steve insists on keeping liquor on hand at all times just in case they host any get togethers… which, for the last six months of living together, they’ve had only one. Sometimes Bucky drinks it straight from the bottle when Steve’s not looking just because he really misses it.

“Come on, Buck. World’s not ending any time soon. We’re on the most prolonged break yet. I wanna hang out with a dog!”

As if to add insult to injury— because Steve sort of just said that he prioritizes a dog over Bucky, he mumbles, “It’s not like you’re gonna let me get one.”

Bucky rolls his eyes for the millionth time since this request has come up. “You’re the dog. I don’t want another.” He crosses his arms, “Go, then. Get bitten for all I care.”

Steve swings his key ring around his finger and winks at Buck from the door. “I’ll be sure to let her know you say hi! And that you’re wondering how she’s doin’”

Bucky stiffens as the door slips shut— Steve’s laughter echoing down the hallway all the while.

-

He meets you outside of the campus Starbucks and catches the key ring you fling at him. Your hair is neatly braided, save for a few strands dangling over your face. You’re wearing fitted pinstripe trousers and a loose pale blue button up, tucked in haphazardly.

“Thanks! Just put it under the mat when you’re done! You got Venmo? I’ll Venmo you!” You screech before ducking into a crowd of confused undergraduate students and disappearing out of his view. Steve whistles lowly because your disappearing act could give Natasha a run for her money.

Happy, regardless, Steve spins the ring around his pointer finger and heads back to his motorcycle.

-

It’s almost three by the time you get back to your apartment, slick with sweat. The walk from the bus stop isn’t long, by any means, but you might be the sweatiest person you know, so the beads that drip into your eyes aren’t necessarily unexpected.

What is unexpected is that your keys are not under the mat, like you had instructed Captain America—who has now bewilderingly become your dogsitter, you suppose. Staring at the glossy turquoise paint of your apartment door, you stick your hand in your purse to rummage around for your phone. Suddenly, a bark from the other side startles you and you drop the device back into the gaping mouth of your bag.

A voice follows, shooting off a foreign command before a few more voices cheer as the barking subsides.

The door swings open and you anxiously step into your own damn apartment to three pairs of varying shades of blue eyes, all set in their own expressions. Your own eyes are wide-open, unblinking, possibly twitching – damn that giveaway left eyelid.

“Hello.” Blue eyes number one meets you at the front walkway.

You know her, and although you’re more familiar with her in red, the new blonde ‘do doesn’t take away from the terrifyingly calm energy she exudes. The smile on her lips says “Welcome” but the stare says, “Give me your social security number”

Part of you wants to squeal because you are a massive Black Widow fangirl because you don’t know if you want her or if you want to be her (Hello! She kicks ass and looks hot in leather?). But seeing her now, manifested at your door, staring at you like you’re chopped liver makes you refrain from professing your undying love. You gulp uneasily.

“Sorry about all the extra company!” Steve yelps from the floor when Buckeye gives his cheek an extra sloppy lick, “Time slipped from me. Natasha was in the neighborhood and I suggested she swing by to meet this good boy.”

Your dog crawls into his lap as if he’s not—Oh! Well, he sort of fits perfectly in those enormous legs. Even folded, Captain America’s lap is the size of a small table and Buckeye peers at you from beneath the white cone, chin perched on the corner of Steve’s knee.

“Uh, yeah that’s cool.” You mutter, shutting the door behind you, advancing carefully under Natasha’s gaze as she walks backwards into the living room. Finally, she plops down on the couch next to Bucky, who doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything any time soon. You’re surprised he’s back because he was two seconds away from crazy-murdering you last night and spitting on your grave.

“Still mad I licked your hand?” You call to him airily. Almost immediately, you can see all the hairs on his neck raise like an untamed cat caught unawares and Natasha whips around to give him a look of surprise.

“I swear to God…” he mutters, pressing his hand against his forehead because he already regrets that last minute blurt of accompanying Steve, and you are not helping. “Just one more. One more fuckin’ comment from you…”

You have about enough self-preservation as a lemming, so naturally you don’t even hear his threat.

“I thought I was doin’ you a favor, y’know, getting the wank-palm ready. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Steve whistles like a tea kettle as he tries to stifle his laughter and has to literally hold onto your dog to keep himself from pitching over. Buckeye loves it, because he pants along to each quiver of the Captain’s chest as he gasps for breath. Natasha pats the metal of Bucky’s arm.

“He’s right-handed.” She says nonchalantly.

“Oh.” You reply, “Well, cup the balls with it for all I care.”

Steve shoots up the same time Bucky does, and he steadies your dog with both his hands. “Hey!” He laughs nervously, “Come take Buckeye out with me for a minute! We’ll be back! Enough time for everyone to calm down.”  

He hooks Buckeye’s leash on and pushes his own Bucky out the door as quickly as they both can go. As he passes you, Bucky snarls, showing you all four of his canines— and you smile sweetly at him to veil the incoming sensation of nervous sweating. Steve shoves him roughly forward while leaning over against your cheek. That makes you sweat immediately.

“What did I say about that smart mouth!?” Steve whispers harshly before stepping out. Your dog trots out behind them, happy as can be.

Natasha pats the warm seat beside her where Bucky used to be and smiles at you until you slide in next to her.

“I’ll make it quick,” She begins, “I don’t know what funny little goose chase Rogers is on this time, but he’s taken a liking to you. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Uh…”

She continues, despite your very graceful response and the flare that heats your face a thousand degrees hotter.

“He’s got some idea to take a superhero sabbatical. You planning any summer vacations? Maybe to 7344 Sunnywaters Drive? Cincinnati?”

You gulp. “Y-yeah, actually.” The sweat Steve’s proximity drew from you is nothing compared to Natasha clocking your parents’ address as an offhanded threat in your own damn home. You’re too scared to even wipe the moisture from your brow.

“Cool. Keep in touch.” Then, as if she’s handing you the remote, Natasha flings your phone into your lap and you fumble with it like a live grenade before clasping both palms over the thing. She’s already at the door, one hand on her hip before sending a wink back at you. “That’s between us girls. I’m your one-stop shop for boy trouble, understand?”

You nod your head vigorously and Natasha smiles at you again, a sweet peel of her peach lips back to reveal her teeth, just the same as Bucky. Then, like a dream, she’s disappeared out the door. A whine escapes your lips as you stare at the newly added contact: Nat.

You don’t even want to think about how she pulled the thing out of your purse and put herself in it without you noticing and frankly, the thought of her physically that close to you makes your legs weak.

Apparently, Captain America wants to retire with his trusty murderous sidekick and he’s looking at you to show him a good time. You pull your backpack into your lap and wrap your arms around the four books you’ve checked out of the library. You still owe your professor a paper, and your cohort-mates a drink some time this week. When, oh when, are you going to have time to have a mental breakdown?

Certainly not now, as two Super Soldiers stomp their way back into your apartment.

“Dude, I got downstairs neighbors.” You mutter dejectedly, sliding the bag onto the floor.

Steve apologizes and starts to tiptoe like a ballerina. Bucky, the saint, firmly slams one foot down and the entire building seems to shake. Buckeye hops up onto the couch at the noise, and the length of his leash twists around Steve’s ankles and trips him.

Right across the couch. His head falls into the cushion of your lap before he bounces himself off with a gasp.

“You gotta be kidding me.” You say as Steve pitches backward onto the floor and the apartment shakes once again with the strength of a 7.4 magnitude earthquake. All emotion has drained from you as you hold onto the couch like a lifesaver. These stupid superheroes are going to get you kicked out of your apartment and you can’t afford rent anywhere else, god damn it. Steve lies plank-like on the carpet, wincing at the commotion.

Bucky, on the other hand, cackles gleefully— the happiest you’ve ever seen him, ever. It makes you freeze as you stare at the oddity of the smile on his face. He’s never smiled on any television broadcast you’ve witnessed and even against the loop in the Smithsonian, this one knocks it out of the park. At the end of his maniacal tittering is a strangely mystifying chuckle, topped off by a lingering lopsided little smirk as he wipes the corner of his eye. His cheeks are flushed pink and the threads of hair that dangle over his features make him look all the more… handsome? No…!

“What?” Bucky snaps as he catches you looking.

“Nothing!” You shriek back, pretending to busy yourself with pulling your hair from its braided confines. The waves slip out of your elastic chaotically and you brush through them with your fingers, letting your face be obscured by your tresses. “I uh… I gotta do some.. writing.” You admit quietly.

It’s nearly four, and the books in your bag are not reading themselves.

“Oops, sorry, we’ll get out of your hair.” Steve grins at the waves over your face, “Get it?” and you roll your eyes dramatically at him.

“Please fucking leave.” You grunt. And they do, heading to the exit after Steve gives your pup a good double-eared rub. Suddenly, you remember, “Wait! Shit! Hey what do I owe you for today?”

You fumble around in your purse but Rogers crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, nearly as wide as the damn thing itself. Bucky raises an eyebrow next to him, “Why’re you diggin’ round in there like you got any money?” He asks.

“I fucking hate you.” You whisper dejectedly.

His leering smirk is back full force as he returns one of your own to you, “Feeling’s mutual, princess.”

You take it way back, like back to prehistoric times—no, back to The Goddamn Mesozoic Era-- and bury it there. Bucky Barnes, handsome? You’d rather eat shit.

“Don’t worry bout it.” Steve smiles, “As long as I can spend time with this good boy, we can call it even.”

You frown. “You… like, wanna dogsit for free?”

“Mhm.”

If this was a nightmare or some sick simulation that a sadistic deity was placing you in, fuck it, what can you do? It feels like a bad way to make a new friend but at the very least you have new friend? You’re trying to peer towards the brighter sides of this whole thing.  

An Avenger wants to hang out in your apartment and take care of your sick dog? There goes the possibility of potential muggings! Maybe you’d get held hostage again briefly, but Bucky will just shoot them in the face like last night. Imagine how much free time that’d give you to finish your paper!

You dig back around in your purse, finding the tiny little zip pocket and fling a loose key towards the door. Bucky snatches it before Steve can, in an almost protective gesture.

“That’s my spare. Knock yourself out, my man.” You say cheerily. Steve takes it from Bucky and grins at you before they both leave.

  They’re back in a couple of days, Steve politely texting you ahead of time as you’re perched on the kitchen counter waiting for your leftovers from…who knows when to warm up. You unlock the door and return to your post.

Steve immediately fawns over Buckeye, who naturally returns the affection. They roll around on the floor together and you frankly start feeling like you have two dogs. And then the image of Captain America as a stupid Golden Retriever sears itself into your brain. You shake it from your head, bewildered, but you can’t help glancing back over at the way he spools over the floor with his knees bent and mouth open.

Opening your mouth, you begin to comment but it shuts itself when Bucky saunters into your kitchen and sticks his head in your refrigerator. He drinks the last soda you were saving before stepping across from you and leaning back on the counter with an antagonistic smirk.

Yep. You still hate him. You wonder why he’s even here since the feeling is so, so mutual.

“Sooooo….” You sing quietly as a different thought flits across your mind, taking one hand and gesturing from Bucky to Steve, who is now playing tug-o-war with Buckeye. Your wrist flicks a few times back and forth. “You guys like, fuckin’? Or what?”

The hand that’s holding onto your marble counter slips slightly and Bucky stumbles before catching himself. It wouldn’t take very much for that same hand to shatter your jaw, he thinks, because what kind of person just says that!?

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Do you have any sense at all?” Bucky grumbles under his breath, “Or do you just love flirting with death this much?”

You blow a raspberry at him, “Pfft. Presumptuous of you to one: call yourself death, and two: suggest I’m flirting.” Bucky snarls in reply, and you think you could get used to this kind of banter.

From the living room, you hear Steve pat his knees, “Hey!” he calls, not missing a beat, “You guys flirting in there!?”

-

“Soooo….” You intone again a week later, when Steve volunteers to take Buckeye out for a break and you’re stuck watching T.V. with Bucky, book and post-it notes in your lap.

“I swear, if you ask me one more time if Stevie and I are fucking, I will kick your ass so hard your damn vertebrae will pop out of your mouth like a Pez dispenser.”

“Stevie? Oh…” You mutter, “So, y’all in love, love.”

His metal fingers flex against his thigh and you whistle innocently when Stevie returns.

You smile. The blonde smiles back. Bucky’s hand whirrs menacingly on the other side of the couch.

--

Almost two months pass of these habits—Steve coming over, usually with Bucky in tow and they lounge around your apartment like they live here while you sit with your tablet and crank out as many e-mails as you can in their presence.

At this point in time, you practically think of them as your extremely annoying roommates because that’s what they act like. Sometimes you eat sad dinners together, consisting of Frankenstein’s-Monster-level sandwiches of things you find in your fridge—but after the second instance of that happening, Steve began to bring over groceries every time he came by. You had thanked him. Then you proceeded to create other abominations with his produce.

In the beginning, it was tough; there were constant distractions as they navigated how to behave around you and vice-versa. Endless quips and insults and threats, primarily between you and Bucky while Steve watched helplessly. Eventually, it died down somewhat, and although you thoroughly enjoyed making fun of him, Bucky was just as much an appreciated fixture as Steve was.

Besides, you had other things to do than make his life miserable—more miserable, you hope, because you hope his life is already miserable, that smug, trash-panda-looking bastard.

Once, Bucky thought it was curious when he hurled an insult at you but there was only silence. Even Steve looked over, but you were buried with work, balancing a book on each knee as you sat cross-legged, typing furiously, head turning from one side to the other as you read at the same time.

It reminded Steve of Tony. Bucky stilled and quirked his head to the side, almost impressed—not that he would ever admit that anything you did was impressive to him.

Fifteen minutes later, you finally replied—a half-hearted rudeness that had nothing to do with what he said in the first place.

He laughed then, boisterous, almost hysterically when you glued your eyes back to the screen and smiled absently.

“Alright, kid. We’ll leave you to your work.” He said, “Let’s get outta here, Stevie.”

“Ooooh, Stevie,” You squealed mockingly, “Hey---“ a grin had passed over your face and before you could ask exactly what they both knew you were going to ask, Bucky leapt over the couch and put you in a headlock.

“I’m gonna kill you!” He snarled.

Buckeye barked, alert and worried as you yelped, head stuck in his arm. Captain America leapt gallantly to his feet, hands out ready to diffuse the tension, but when you started giggling and tapped playfully on Bucky—who laughed, goddamn it—laughed, Rogers sat back down with a knowing grin.

 Although the topic of their bond was a running gag at this point, it was still on your mind from time to time as you carried on with your daily life. Classes were coming to an end, and this would be the first summer in a while when you wouldn’t be taking a course—instead only TA-ing for an online class. You suppose it would only take you a couple of hours a day if you timed your schedule correctly. Balancing your schoolwork, other friendships, and the Super Soldier Chaos Idiot Duo had been surprisingly easy, considering that they were relatively low-maintenance and didn’t want anything other than to be in your company.

They help you out quite a lot, especially Steve, who you swear to God, just fucking loves dogs. At least twice a week he comes and either takes Buckeye on an extended walk (an hour minimum), or takes him to the dog park and they both come home completely exhausted and sprawl out on the floor while you fan them with a spare newspaper, trying not to stare at the way his chest rises and falls, nearly bursting out of his drenched t-shirt.

Not that you were crushing on Captain America, your sort-of dogsitter-slash-friend, but that you were a human being with two working eyes. Because, good googly-moogly, that ass is juicy.

Naturally, that train of thought brought you back to Steve and Bucky’s possible relationship. So, for the first time since you’d been blessed with the Deus ex Machina itself, you had texted Natasha.

You: Hey… uh, weird question but… these boys fuckin’ or nah?

The grey ellipses appeared immediately.

Nat: Interesting question coming from you. Not my business. Ask them.  

You: “One-stop shop”, my ass.

 She didn’t dignify your grouching with a reply. But you took her advice anyway, and asked Steve, who proceeded to clap his hands together loudly.

“We’re partners!”

He beamed then, like that shed any light at all on what you were pondering. Partners also meant like, the team-up-together-and-kick-ass kind of thing. Part of you had thought that he did that on purpose, but…whatever.

 You wanted to remain on the safe side of Bucky’s possible wrath, so you keep the staring at Steve thing to a minimum and then eventually, you stopped altogether.

 Tonight, however, something new is happening—new in your life, and new for Steve and Bucky too, as they step into your apartment and freeze when you emerge from the hallway. You had called and asked for a dogsitting session for a couple of hours, which happens from time to time when you’d go out with friends, but this was different.

“Hey.” You greet as you scurry around, looking for something. Steve busies himself stroking Buckeye’s back but watches as you nervously scramble around like a gerbil, flinging the couch cushions and throw pillows onto the floor.

“Lookin’ for these?” Bucky asks, gingerly placing his hand forward with your keychain dangling from his fingertips.

“Oh shit, where’d you find ‘em? I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“They were on the hook, like always.” He responds slowly, eyeing you up and down like you were sprouting another head.

It’s almost as jarring, actually. You greet them every single time in swaggy Ohio gear, shorts and a tee, or your semi-formal work clothes, but today, two months into their weird little friendship with you, you’re wearing a dress. Bucky squints as they both take a seat because he thinks it looks like you’ve put on lipstick.

“The fuck’re you lookin at? Wait--is it on my teeth? Son of a bitch, I always get it on my teeth.”

“Yes.” Bucky deadpans.

“No!” Steve corrects and slaps him on the chest. “You… uh, look nice.” He says as you pick up your purse and dig around in it before realizing your phone is already in your hand.

“Huh?” You ask, genuinely not hearing his compliment from all the blood pounding in your ears. They watch you slip on combat boots and pick at your eyelashes for a second before you anxiously walk over to where they lounge on the couch. “S-so… I’m… going on a date.” You admit quietly.

Steve quirks an eyebrow. Bucky folds his arms.

“Okay. Normally I would never ask you guys—especially not you,” You sneer at Bucky who rolls his eyes, “But… I have not been on a date in quite a long time—hooo boy, I don’t even know what a man is like anymore, honestly.” You blather as Steve looks incredulously to Bucky and them at himself as he gestures obviously to their very masculine physique. “Okay, but like—not you guys.” You add quickly.

“What the hell does that mean?” Bucky doesn’t know why he’s offended, but he is.

“You’re men, fine! Yes. Technically!” He scrunches his face even more as you continue to ramble, “But like, this is a man! Like, a human? Y’know? A person who could like me! Ah shit, I’m just anxious, you dick!” You screech, “All I wanted to ask was like—you know!” You sway from side to side mechanically, waving your hand in front of your face as you squeeze your eyes shut, “Do I look okay!?”

Maybe instead of going on the date, you could just drop dead right here, you think. A literal minute of silence passes and you stop feeling embarrassed and start getting angry, foot tapping against the carpet. “Am I invisible?” You throw your hands up.

No, Steve thinks as he digs around for the right thing to say. You are unquestionably not invisible, because he’s been looking at you for the better part of two months now and he definitely has some words for this instance. His eyes move over your exposed shoulders and down the soft material of the dress that seems to be contouring your body before they stop at the dress’ hem—at the middle of your thighs.

“Kinda short.” Bucky blurts.

“Kinda the point.” You mutter, “I want this guy to like me, remember?”

“Good luck.” Bucky snorts, “Not with that mouth.”

A sly smile spreads over your face because the comeback you have is rated NC-17 and you’re ready to spew it all over him but Steve shakes his head sharply and you shut up with a sigh. Mood killer. You pat your thigh and briefly bend over to snuggle with Buckeye while Steve surveys your streaming subscriptions. He’s started on a new sci-fi show at Natasha’s suggestion and he and Bucky have recently left off on a cliffhanger. It seems to be a good place to distract himself from the peculiar direction this night is heading down.

“Love you sooooo much!” You squeal, rubbing your forehead against your dog’s velvety grey skin, lowering your voice into a silly warbly pitch “Yeah, that’s my Big Bucko! Uh-huh, good boy. Who’s the best boy? You’re the best boy!”

From beside him, Bucky lets out what sounds like a puff of annoyed air.

You fix yourself and stand up, parting with a final kiss on his head, “Wish me luck, Buckaroo.” Then you imitate guns with your fingers and point at Steve and Bucky a few times, as if firing, “Alright, suckers. I’m out. I’ll let you know all about it in a couple of hours.”

And just like that, you’re gone, keys jangling all the way.

Steve clicks play on the next episode of the show and Buckeye settles by his feet, nestled comfortably between his and Bucky’s legs. The opening theme starts as they sit in silence, thinking over the last ten minutes.

Bucky speaks first.

“I’m gonna kill her.” He mutters plainly. At this point, it’s a reflexive statement to show his disapproval of whatever it is that you’ve done. Steve seems to agree as he nods slowly before taking a deep breath.

“I think I’m gonna kill the guy.”

 Bucky lets out a string of laughs as he grabs his sides and leans back on the couch because he knows it’s a joke, but Steve is never this protective, nor does he threaten civilians lightly. When Bucky turns his head to regard his partner, the look on Steve’s face is a wry one—half tilted smile, furrowed brows.

“C’mon Stevie. Girl’s just trying to live.”

“Wow, you’re defending her? Oh, Buck, you’re in deep, aren’t you?” Steve teases as he reaches over to ruffle Bucky’s hair. He knows, just by being with Bucky all these years that their feelings for you are mutual. He had called it day one as he followed you through the wet grass of the complex—Steve knows what Bucky likes, and he knows full well that Bucky likes you.

“Shaddup, Rogers.” Bucky grunts. But now that it’s just the two of them in the apartment, the crotchety ill-tempered façade slips off and a smile glides over his lips. “She’s a brat.” He mutters, but stretches his arm across to rest it on Steve anyway.

Their personas are defined: Steve is good cop, Bucky is bad cop. Steve is a Golden, Bucky is a wolf. They fit their roles well because it does fit who they are, but when it comes to private matters, Bucky understands that Steve runs the show. And Bucky always lets Steve do what he wants. It’s annoying sometimes, when he gets himself a stupid new hobby and falls down a rabbit hole of some obscure ancient coin-collecting or whatever else he gets into.

His latest endeavor for the last two months since his so-called retirement, had been meeting every fucking dog in Manhattan until he met you. And then it was a two-for-one-combo, Bucky thinks. But Bucky loves happy Steve, so he let him become your friend.

 From next to him, Steve pretends to pay attention to the show—not that it isn’t enthralling, but he has other things on his mind. Bucky’s quieted, far-away look in his eyes and Steve knows it’s because he’s lost in thought, trying to analyze this situation—trying to analyze Steve.

But Steve Rogers’ intentions are simple, as they’ve always been: make Bucky happy. And in the last two months since that fateful night, scraped knees, Ohio Fight song and all—Bucky has been.

Steve’s a shit, and Bucky loves Steve. You’re also a shit. And he knows, oh he knows, Bucky also loves you.

 The episode drones on in the background, already close to finished. An hour has passed and they hadn’t even noticed.

They sit there, eyes glazed over, occasionally flicking each other and grabbing one another’s hand, deep in thought of affections for each other until quite suddenly, the door flies open and you stomp in, hair in disarray.

Two heads jerk over to the doorway where you kick off your boots with a snarl, steadying yourself with your palm against the wall before slumping to the ground and greeting Buckeye with outstretched arms.

Bucky is about to comment on the briefness of the date, but you’re curled up into a ball over your dog’s back as his tail whips happily against your side. You’re whispering and kissing him rapidly over and over like machinegun fire. “Buckeye!” You cry, “What kind of stupid motherfucker! I can’t believe that piece of shit. How dare he!” You rub your face against your dog, glaring at the ground.

Steve and Bucky exchange looks.

“Are you drunk?” Bucky asks.

“Yes!” You yell, moving so that you’re slightly squatting. The two men tilt their head at your stance before they watch you slowly lift Buckyeye in your arms. You shake slightly and take a step forward, the hem of your dress peeling up against his bottom as he slides to one side.

He doesn’t notice at all, and continues flapping his tail as you teeter around the front entrance.

“Look at this fuckin’ cinnamon roll!” You cry, smashing your face against his neck, the rest of your words coming out muffled into his fur, “Does he look fuckin’ dangerous?!”

“No!” You answer your own question, taking another step forward, “He’s not! He is! A! Good! Boy!” Another step is taken. Steve and Bucky press themselves against the couch as you tread towards them menacingly.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Bucky demands when you begin to sniffle because it is freaking him out that you even have a sad setting on your range of emotions. More than anything, it’s freaking him out that you’re showing it to him.

“Would you call—“ You ask, standing him front of him, hips leaned forward to help distribute the now 55 pounds of muscle that is your dog over your body so that your arms don’t suffer too much tomorrow, “Would you call this precious, lovable— a little traumatized, sure—baby—“ You sniff again, “Would you call him vicious?” You hiss. Bucky opens his mouth but you disrupt him again.

“Would you call this good boy, a killer?!”

Bucky grunts when you throw your dog onto his lap. “Look at him!” Long, wet licks are applied everywhere to Bucky’s grimace as your dog’s tongue finds this an opportune moment to clobber Bucky with kisses. In the two months that he’s hung around, Buckeye has rarely had this close of encounters with Bucky. Usually it’s Steve who gets his attention, and the silver-armed man is just someone who sort-of looks at him. As a dog, he’d rather play with the person who lies down on the floor and rolls.

“What the—god damn it!” Bucky dodges left and right, but the tongue even goes right into his eyeball. Finally gets to rest as Steve motions your dog over to lie down in the middle, resting his bum on Bucky’s lap and his face on Steve’s knee.

You crumble onto the floor on your knees, throwing your arms over Buckeye’s back and pressing your cheek against him, looking up at Steve.

“Can you believe it? This guy… this guy called Pit Bulls killers. He called me a dumb bitch for getting a Pit because they’re all vicious and should be put down and eradicated. I got so fucking mad at him, I threw both our drinks in his face. I hate this fucking city—everybody’s a goddamn asshole.” You quiet considerably as Steve puts his hand on your shoulder. He knows how touchy you are when it comes to misconceptions about your pet, because he knows you’ve worked hard to rehabilitate him since his adoption. And Steve has witnessed first-hand just how mild Buckeye actually is.

He might look big and intimidating, now at 10 months and massive, but he plays peacefully with other dogs every time they go to the park, and he lets strangers pet him no sweat. Every time.

Steve steals a look across the couch where Soldat stares ahead calmly.

As if understanding the situation, Buckeye whines pitifully and rubs his wet nose against your cheek. A quiet moment passes before the other side of the couch shifts and Bucky sits up.

“What’s the motherfucker’s name?” He asks cooly.

“Buck…” Steve warns.

“No, no. I’m not gonna do anythin’ to him. His tires, though, different story.”

You laugh and sit up finally, make up a little smudged from your tears. “Nah. He’s not worth it. A lot of people in Manhattan aren’t very dog-friendly anyway. I bet he doesn’t even fuck with Labs, y’know?” You scratch the bridge of your nose before looking up at the two sitting above you.

Steve to your left, head tilted slightly with a sympathetic smile. Bucky to your right, mouth set in that characteristic scowl of his as he waits for you to say something stupid—as always. And you sort of do.

“I’m going to visit my parent’s for a week. We have an extra room and lots of space—wanna come along to Ohio?” Your drunk brain interrupts yet again as you pull yourself up and push Buckeye until he’s on the other side of Steve and you flop down on the couch in-between them, kicking your feet on top of the coffee table. “Anyway, what are you guys watching? Ew—is that thing giving birth? Fuckin’ gross.”

 And then you’re asleep, the smell of vodka lingering over your head as it tilts backwards and the couch cushion sinks to cradle your skull. Steve sighs and puts Buckeye on the leash, taking him out for one last potty break before they leave to go home now that you’re wandering dreamland and gestating a hangover.

He returns to Bucky standing over your sleeping body on the couch, carefully tucked in from the blanket on your bed—pillow under your head and all. Steve says nothing as Bucky crosses his arms and looks at you with an odd grimace, like he’s trying to figure something out. Quietly, Bucky heads to the door and pats your dog gently.

Steve Rogers takes out your spare key and turns off the light with a smile.

Next Chapter

[valkerymillenia]

Umbrella Academy

season 2, episode 3

Next!

Again, live blogging and posting my reactions all in one post to avoid spamming.

This post got accidentally deleted yesterday so I had to write or all again (twice!)

Oh, starting with a Klaus and Ben 1960 flashback! Ah, Klaus... You have no shame. Let my baby eat though!

Lol "Chanel". Boy knows his fashion, of course.

And there's Boney M playing!

You can practically read his mind when he sees that diamond. Sugar momma alert! 😆

Damn, loving the black outfit, very sexy.

LEVITATING KLAUS WAS BEN LIFTING HIM UP! Seems that one crack theory on the fandom was right 🤣

Ben's face though 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

These two are the best combo. I love them.

61, Baja, NM. Traveling hippie commune.

Is Klaus still sober? He refuses a joint here so I'm inclined to believe that he is but he isn't acting very sober... Then again that might be an act, just him embracing the hippy life.

CALLED IT!!! BEN FALLS IN LOVE, DOESN'T HE?! I FUCKING CALLED IT IN EP 1!

62, Varanasi, India. The river scene from the promos. Yeah, I called this one too. Klaus is already looking seriously uncomfortable and realizing this is getting out of hand.

63, San Francisco. Poor Klaus is practically suffocating under all the touching and nobody respects his space or his words.

Destiny's Children! 🤣 You are such a 90s kid, Klaus.

Run away, Klaus! Run! Escape the crazies.

Ok, let me paused to write out a thought...

So a lot of people were worried about the cult thing and Klaus's intentions but it's clear he had no malicious intentions at all. He charmed and impressed some people for survival purposes and thrived, he enjoyed the love and attention at first and the cult just grew around around him organically whether he liked it or not, more a hippy cult of personality then a religious sect, but at some point he saw that it had gone too far, the pressure and expectation became too much and he realized he'd bitten more than he can chew.

It's actually rather sad how he just wants to escape but the cultists objectify him to all hell, he has no privacy or personal space. The problem with Klaus is that he doesn't do anything mildly, he always goes too big until he's drowning. Boy is already self-sabotaging and I'm sure he's going to start self-destructing very soon as well.

End of thought. Clicking play again.

Ouch! Poor Diego 😰 Lila, that is not how you cauterize a stab wound...

"what happened?" -your dear daddy stabbed you, dude.

Did she really need to strip him so thoroughly? 😏 Yes, yes, she did.

Well, at least she's not sewing you up, Diego. No needles, yay.

"oh, he isn't dead." "Disappointed?" "To see you? Always 😊" -did I mention I love Five's sass? I did? Well, I do.

Old family friend 😆

"you don't untie him?" "Was I supposed to?" Oh Lila, you're adorable, poor Elliot.

Vanya, that is suspicious as hell, just mow down that weirdo!

Ok, good instincts but too slow.

Run, girl, run!

Got to admit, these Swedes are good battle strategy, they are surrounding her surprisingly well.

Is this were the badass Vanya promo was from? Show me badass Vanya, please.

BADASS VANYA! 💖

Ooooooh, very smart, Five!!!

One of the machines though? What are the others for? I'm curious.

Plano Street Rooming House for Solitary Men? That's real depressing, Luther.

It's the "the end is nigh" guy the same that was screaming with Luther in ep 1?

King Kong! Not sure if cute or rude af...

Ahahahah! Luther literally STUMBLING on "Allison" and then acting like an awkward Steve Rogers when the kids call him out 😆 Boy, when will you realize that your obsession is creepy?

Honestly, ALL the Hargreeves siblings can be divided into two categories- sweet awkward dork or sass king/queen, there is no in-between (but Diego and Klaus get to be both).

Convenient that Vanya would just sit there and wait to be found by Five but ok.

"I have a brother?" -honey, you have five (pun fully intended)

IKEA MAFIA! 😂

Nice crop circle, Vanya.

Five just rolls with the amnesia, huh? Doesn't even question it. Ok, then.

Why is Ruby, notorious mobster, sewing sequins? It's it for the dog? I bet, it's for the dog.

"Hargreeves. She your ex?" *Cue Luther's super awkward fumbling* "S-Sorta...Y-Yeah. Sure." - big boy, this is the point where you realize how creepy your crush on your own sister is, time to reevaluate.

KLAUS AND ALLISON REUNION! THEY ARE SO CUTE! 😭💜

Honestly, I need more Klaus and Allison interactions. They have so much bff potential.

*le gasp* "oh, you're married?" 😲 -yes, Klaus, you met him.

"dicks, drugs, debutants. My holy trinity" -ok so everything Klaus says should be taken with a grain of salt but does Klaus still do drugs or not? Considering the evolution of his powers with Ben I'd say no, but we aren't seeing other ghosts harassing him so... Hmm, I need confirmation.

"alternative spiritual community" my ass

Ah, Allison falls into the sass queen category.

Allison can have a little PTSD, as a treat. 😢

Those shoes! Hi, Handler.

Those shoes really are her signature by now. Those heels could kill a man.

Handler as a brunette...? She looks good but I like her bleach blonde.

What did she say to make that boy pee himself?? Damn, Handler, no wonder your kid is a mess.

These dudes need to start listening to my girl Allison, instead of following her husband like puppies.

Great speech, girl! ✊

What is up with that sandwich???

Oh wait, it's Ben right? Klaus is using his powers to get Ray out of jail, isn't he?

Yup, of course he is.

Ben being all sassy and cocky about it gives me life.

"high places" - 😆

Poor Ray, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.

"family barbecues are about to get reeeeeeeal weird" - I'd actually like to see that.

"leave the pot, dear" - you're such an old man, Five.

"any questions?" Five, if be worried if she DIDN'T have questions after all that.

"asteroid impact" -aww 💜 you really do care for her feelings, Five... But you have to tell her the truth sooner or later.

Harlan likes classical music, huh? Good thing he knows a good violinist.

Harlan and Sissy... 😭 My poor heart.

Ouch! What is wrong with you, Lila? You're right but what is wrong with you?

"I can't believe I got shanked by my own father" - can't you, Diego? Really? After everything else that man did to you and your siblings?

"man to man, that son of bitch wouldn't stand a chance" - yeah, he would, he taught you all you know, boy

Not sure if Lila's story is true or not but... I still have that one theory that she was born on October, 1989...

"I don't understand you!!!" - ahah, poor Diego 🤣

Really? Right in front of Elliot's tuna mold?

Man, Handler is really obsessed with Five...

Oh, Luther, you giant puppy...

This is so AWKWARD!

Bonbons, Luther? Really?

Ok, this small talk is even MORE AWKWARD! It physically hurts to listen to this.

The pain in his face and voice when Luther goes "S-so great" 😭

boy, this is the moment you realize it's time to move on, you're not isolated teenagers in a dysfunctional home anymore, let her be your sister and find love elsewhere.

The sit in!

"seven languages" sassy, sassy, I love her.

YOUNG DAVE!

Oh no... Klaus, no, baby... Oh, this is painful.

Ben, don't be mean, let your brothe have this.

What kind of gay man doesn't know what eggshell is? 😆

"is this considered stalking? 'cause I think you're stalking now" - well, BEN, following your brother 24/7 for 15 years can also be considered stalking

Oh no, Vietnam flashbacks... Poor Klaus 😭😭😭

"Vietnam fling"? Ben, you know it wasn't just a fling! Stop being mean.

Aw, Klaus just wants to save Dave... He's willing to sacrifice their relationship to save Dave's life... 😭😭😭

I know Ben is just worried but he could be less mean...

Damn, this sit in thing is really upsetting...

Why is Ray being weird? Is he suspicious of Luther and Alison's relationship? Or is he just unhappy that Allison kept secrets about her family?

Oh Luther, no... Self-harm by proxy is not going to make you feel better.

Oh, motherfucker! That coffee thing was such an asshole move!

Shit, this scene is so well written, the way something so small is making the whole protest escalate to all hell... The police brutality, the parallels with recent events... Disturbing and brilliant and deeply relevant!

Yes! Rumor that motherfucker, Allison!

Oh no, don't be scared of your wife, Ray! Don't be suspicious!

Poor Allison... 😢

Oh Luther, you dumbass... 😢

Lila going to meet mommy, huh?

Oh, she's still wearing Diego's bracelet. Cute.

I know this scene between Handler and Lila was supposed to be a shocking plot twist but after David Castañeda's interview slip up, I already knew.

Still, an excellent scene and very cool surprise.

Like I said before, I really like Lila, I don't trust her AT ALL but I like her.

...

THIS WAS SUCH AN EMOTIONAL EPISODE... Again.

My god, this show gives me life.

[fanficsaremylifeline]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ben Parker & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Dum-E, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Ben Parker, Dummy (Iron Man movies), Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark Additional Tags: he likes to talk, who cares if nobody answers, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) References, whump warning: fire, ironfam, Irondad, IronDaughter, spiderson Series: Part 12 of Ironfam Summary:

Not everybody Peter enjoys talking to always answers. Doesn't mean that Peter can't talk to them though.

1

“Hi, Uncle Ben”, Peter smiled, somewhat awkwardly. “Happy birthday!” He toyed around with the card he held in his hand. “Unfortunately, they didn't have any 'For the awesome Uncle, who is practically your father' , so I went straight with 'For the world's best Dad'. I mean it's true on any level except genetically. Though I'm not sure how human my genes are any more, so I guess that's even true of my parents... Sorry, I'm digressing.”

Gently, he placed the card just by the bouquet of daisies, Uncle Ben's favourite flowers. They were somewhat wilted, but Aunt May was sure to come by later, and get him a fresh one for his birthday.

“Don't tell Aunt May that I skipped school, though”, he pleaded as he sat himself down, just by the head stone. “She'll ground me from Ned, or Spidermanning, or the Avengers and that's not cool... Oh yeah, that's right, I'm an official Avenger now!”, he beamed proudly, after having made sure that nobody was around to listen in on Peter talking to his Uncle's grave. “I know, it's so cool, right? And woah, you should have seen Aunt May, when she took on Tony Stark, and made very clear that every little thing that'll happen to me, she'll make sure he'll suffer too.” Peter couldn't help but giggle at Tony's grimace. A man who didn't seem to be afraid of anything was seriously scared of Aunt May. Not that Peter could blame him for that; he'd rather go up against the Vulture again, than Aunt May when she was angry with him.

“She's alright. I know I don't have to, because she's like the most badass woman out there, but I'm still looking out for her. And she is doing good.”

There was just this big, burning thing, looming in Peter's mind. “So, this might be a little awkward, but she's seeing someone again. He works for Tony, he's a really good guy, actually. And yeah, it's plenty weird. But Aunt May says, that he's not here to replace you, or anything like that, so I guess that's something...”

Fidgeting nervously with his fingers, Peter looked down on his hands. “I'm not gonna do that, I promise”, he vowed, “I'll never forget you, and I'll always love you and as good of a guy Happy is, you'll always be my Uncle, and you'll always have that place in my heart that nobody ever can have.”

At this point, Peter wasn't sure if he assured Uncle Ben or himself. Him it definitely helped; things were sort of out in the open. It'd be so much easier though, to hear some sort of answer, get some kind of reaction. But that wasn't gonna happen, was it?

2

“What? No!”, Peter groaned and dropped to the ground. “Why, WHY?”

At his outburst, Dum-E wheeled over, looking at Peter with a somewhat tilted head. Not that he really had one, but he definitely seemed to be curious what had Peter so frustrated.

“It's not working Dum-E. Nothing is! So, you see, that thing here is supposed to light up.” He pointed at the robot he built for the science fair.

It was slightly embarrassing, Peter had worked on far more advanced projects in here, mostly with Mr Stark, but also when by himself. “And I can't just ask Mr Stark, it's way to easy.”

Dum-E followed him around the table, curiously inspecting everything Peter explained to him. “So you see, with these cables connected, it should react to my commands! Ugh.” He rolled his eyes at his own idiocy and turned to Dum-E looking at him somewhat dubiously. Great, even the robot thought Peter was an idiot.

“Don't look at me like that”, Peter made clear, pointing at him.

The way Dum-E looked up at him, with his head somewhat tilted to one side, it reminded Peter of a puppy dog, realizing that something was wrong, but not really understanding what it was.

“I'm sorry”, Peter sighed and patted the little head, “I'm just stressed and annoyed and...” He just let out a deep sigh. But, all moping wouldn't help him, so he went back to disassembling the circuitry.

“I know you're not gonna answer”, Peter eventually remarked, “but I think I'm gonna keep on talking to you.”

The beep that came from Dum-E sounded to Peter like the robot consenting to be talked to.

“Great. Alright, so the idea is that the robot can walk and follow a few simple commands. It's not like I'm creating an AI here, so it shouldn't be too complicated. I know, I know”, he hurried to say, when he felt Dum-E looking at him all funnily. “I shouldn't give too much thought to the aesthetics, but it's a damn science fair, so I'll just have to bother with that, even if the rest suffers for it.”

“Beep.”

“Come on”, Peter rolled his eyes, “that was really uncalled for.”

“Beep, beep.”

“Wow, Dum-E, there is no need for name-calling”, Peter shot back, staring the robot down, who eventually dropped his head.

“Beep.”

“Yes, of course you're forgiven.”

“Beep. Beep, beep.”

“Omigod, yes, that's it!”, Peter cried out, leaned over to press a kiss on Dum-E's head, before turning back to his own robot, where – whether by himself or with help from Dum-E – Peter had finally found the mistake.. “Thanks so much, Dum-E, you're a genius!”

3

“You full?”, Peter asked, looking down on the six months old girl, who dejectedly threw the biscuit through the room. “I guess that's a yes”, Peter snorted and repositioned her on his lap.

“So, Morgan, as your honorary older brother, it's my duty to teach you the important things in life”, he explained. “And one of these things I need to introduce you to is Brooklyn Nine Nine.”

Peter didn't even have to ask FRI to play it, Netflix opened automatically on the big TV screen. He was on his umpteenth rewatch, currently somewhere in season 1 again.

“So, that's Jake”, he explained.

“Shdkpf.”

“Yeah, he's pretty smart”, Peter agreed with her. “That's Amy.”

“Giggidgsh.”

“Exactly!”, he grinned, “he's totally into her. But he plays over it, because, well, he's a little awkward.”

“Pfffrm.”

“I'm not awkward!”

“Gskgsk.”

“Oh, that is so unfair of you to bring up”, Peter complained. “And it's totally not the same! I kept on lying to MJ to keep her safe!”

“Mmmhpff.”

“I can't believe that you would say that to me, when we both know what your Dad did for you Mum.” He looked down on Morgan who beamed up with wide eyes. “He got her an oversized stuffed bunny. I got MJ a necklace.”

“Brrrrrrrrm.”

“Thank you, Morgan. But now let's get back here. See, that's Teddy.”

“Pshhhmmm.”

“Mo! I know he's not the greatest, but we don't say words like this! Anyways, he's also into Amy. And she's kinda into him. And Jake doesn't find that so great.”

“Gshkshsga.”

“No, it's nothing like me, MJ and Brad. I don't even know where you'd get that idea. Besides, Brad doesn't even matter any more. And Teddy won't matter for too long, either.”

“Gashmmmm”

“Sorry, spoiler alert”, Peter apologized and tapped his finger on her hand, prompting her to grab it, squeeze and pull on it. “Dude, we can be happy I got superpowers, otherwise that'd probably hurt. Like a lot. You're really fierce, hey?”

“Hmmmmpf.”

“Yeah”, he beamed, “exactly like your Mummy.”

+1

The first thing Peter realized, was something or someone holding onto his hand, and a soft voice talking to him.

“How often have I told you to call me when things go pear-shaped? I'm a genius and I can't even count how high.”

That sounded a lot like Mr Stark. Why was he holding Peter's hand, and why were his eyes so heavy?

“You really are an absolute pain in my ass, Parker”, Mr Stark continued. “I mean, I'm absolutely impressed by how smart you are, by your innate desire to help people, but do you have to be so damn self-sacrificial? Remember, I got a heart condition and that shit just ain't good for me!”

A calloused thumb gently stroked the back of his hand. “Fuck”, he mumbled, “I guess I should probably tell you how awesomely you did, how you saved all the people from that burning building, but did you have to breathe in that much smoke? You're lucky you got your spider-healing, things could have looked very differently.”

Slowly, things came back to him. KAREN directed him to some office building, where a fire had broke out, trapping a bunch of people on the top floors. Peter didn't even think twice before climbing up the wall to get everybody out.

“And by the way, I'm not the only one who thinks that”, Tony made clear. “Your lovely girlfriend said something along the lines of her going to kill you if you end up dead. And Aunt Hottie... Damnit, I really should stop calling her that, especially in front of you, it's just all shades of wrong... Well, she definitely agrees with Michelle, as does Morgan. In summary, you've got three of the fiercest women on this planet on your ass.”

“That being said, I am still so proud of you. And I really am one lucky son of a bitch to have such an exasperating, snarky, pain-in-the-ass Spiderling in my life. So please, to all that's holy and good in this world, please, just please...” A deep sigh followed, before Mr Stark continued to speak: “Kid, I love you. Which means I worry so damn much. And as good as I look with grey hair, there's no need for you to give me any more of those, you got that?”

“Yeah”, Peter mumbled and squeezed the hand that was holding onto his.

“Wha...” Mr Stark jumped, clearly having thought Peter was asleep. “And how long have you been awake, mister?”

“Long enough”, he sighed, feeling himself already drifting off again. “I love you, too, Mr Stark.”

[punkscowardschampions]

Edie & Liam

Edie: [Okay, so a school trip moment for Edie for Politics and Society where they've gone down to the local courts to probably watch the most boring cases of people paying parking fines etc lol so have fun with that babe] Liam: got the hots for any criminals? Edie: the dude refusing to pay his child support is just my type Liam: pity I don't have any 👶 I've binned off for you Liam: all I've got going for me is how willing I am to catch a charge Edie: We're gonna snatch one, already decided Edie: daddy issues withstanding, no one here is as interesting as you Liam: when I find one with 👀 like yours Edie: 🥺🥺🥺 Edie: I'll make one for you Liam: would you? Edie: I'd do anything for you Liam: I'm just testing you, baby Edie: Test away Edie: my brain is dribbling out my ears over here Liam: don't lose it, we need it Edie: I need you Edie: what are we doing later to bring back my will to live? Liam: anything you want Edie: I might have something Liam: am I guessing or are you telling? Edie: I don't wanna get your hopes up Edie: but I heard rumours, some kid in my year reckons he's found an empty Edie: and that his brother and his mates are gonna squat in it Edie: but it's in a really fuck off big house in a decent part of town, so idk if it's bullshit or what Edie: but it'd be fun to trash if it isn't Liam: we could kick them out, stay for a while before we do Edie: yeah? Edie: play 🏡 with me Liam: somewhere nice to take the 👶 to Edie: Wonder how many rooms there are Edie: can have a playroom and everything Edie: lucky bastard Liam: do you think there's a garden? Edie: even if it's really in town, they'll still have a perfectly landscaped backyard, patio, room for a swing Liam: sandpit for our buried treasure Edie: and the dogs 🦴s Liam: great idea to blame the dog 💀🦴 Edie: I think so Edie: failing that, the previous owners Edie: clearly left in a hurry because the body count got out of control Liam: won't look suss that all the little pussies from your class who are looking at you now when they shouldn't be are in there Edie: I can think of a thousand reasons they deserve to die Edie: yours is the best though Liam: it's the most important one Edie: I don't want anyone else to look at me Liam: put your jacket on Edie: [stealth selfie 'cos p sure you are not meant to have a phone in court lol] Liam: you'll feel better now Edie: 🤏 Edie: what lesson are you in? Liam: maths Liam: about to stick a pencil through my own eye Edie: save one for me Edie: I love your eyes too Liam: right or left? Edie: left Edie: it's the side the tattoo is on Liam: 👌 Liam: [a selfie that he's edited to get rid of an eye] Edie: my cyclops Edie: still hot Liam: eye patch isn't as useful as a fake leg but I knew you'd be into it Edie: you can stash some in the socket Edie: or a 💎 Edie: can't bury all the treasure Liam: 💍 Edie: 🥰 Liam: when can you get out? Edie: when do you want me? Liam: I wanna find the house & make it nice for you first Edie: [screenshot of this kid in her year going off about it/inviting her with the address etc] Liam: I'll go now Edie: I'll pretend the cases have upset me and ask to be excused when I get the chance Edie: then I can go into town and steal all the stuff we'll need for the house Liam: don't forget the 👶 Edie: I'll look in all the prams for the bluest eyes Liam: has to be a girl though Edie: they're always decked out in all the pink Edie: even if I've left some of my brain on the seats Liam: get some clothes too then Edie: your babies would be so beautiful Edie: not like pink screaming blobs Liam: if she looks like you I don't mind her screaming, can do whatever she wants Edie: I'm in love with you Liam: I know you are Liam: & you know how I feel about you Edie: yeah Edie: you take care of me Liam: I'm trying to Edie: you are Liam: I want this to work Edie: then it will Edie: I'll do whatever you need me to Edie: be what you need Liam: you're perfect Liam: he knows that's why he invited you there Edie: but I'm going to be with you instead Liam: who is he? Edie: dunno, he's barely in any of my classes Edie: Craig something, his brother is called Sean, you've probably seen him at shit, even though he's been out of school time Liam: yeah, previous raves & shit Edie: right Edie: just think he knows I go to that shit too Liam: I just need to broadcast a bit louder that I'm with you now, everywhere Edie: How do you wanna do that? Liam: can't let you out of my sight if it means you're in theirs Edie: I'm not mad about that Edie: I want to be with you all day every day Edie: but I'll stab my eyes out before I look at anyone else Edie: you know that Liam: it's not you I don't trust Edie: if anyone touches me, you'll kill them Edie: and we'll bury them in our sandpit Liam: I test you, they test me Edie: you can handle anyone, you're so above them, everyone Liam: I don't know what I'd do if things changed Edie: things will only change if you want them to Edie: I'm not going anywhere without you Liam: tell your ma you're staying at mine, I don't want her trying to get you back Edie: okay, I will Edie: you're the only one who's allowed to tell me what to do Liam: it'll be home until we don't want it, barely a lie Edie: it doesn't matter Edie: I'm never safer than when I'm with you Liam: you can stay at mine too, any time you want Edie: I can? Liam: yeah Edie: 😄😄😄 Edie: I'm now leaving Edie: very, very devastated about the lady driving without insurance 💔 Liam: who can afford that shit, heartbreaking isn't far off Edie: it's a scam Edie: speaking of, how am I gonna liberate some sleeping bags 🤔🤔 Liam: 🤰 Edie: 💡 Edie: pram would actually be perfect Liam: didn't leave any of your brain behind Edie: don't wanna live that young mum stereotype too hard or I'll be right back in that place and I've only just escaped Liam: you won't Liam: the baby won't need to steal it from you, it'll be smart & talented & beautiful in its own right Edie: and you'll love it Edie: and always look after it too Liam: everyone says there's nothing like it, I'd have to feel something Liam: you know that's all I want Edie: I think even if you don't love your kid Edie: you must still be scared for them Edie: and for your own life, how they'll save it or destroy it Edie: that's something Liam: we could be a family, it's been so long since I had one of them Edie: all we'd need would be us three Liam: if my ma won't let us make my sister's room into one for the baby then we'll find our own place Edie: there's room at mine Edie: well, we could make it Edie: with her track record, that's the one thing she can't not be cool on Liam: mine's not cool on fucking anything, but pretend I didn't say that or you'll never wanna come over Edie: she won't like me Edie: but I'll still come Edie: and I'll try to be more what a ma would like Edie: in front of her anyway Liam: she's up for me having a girlfriend, in her words finally Edie: better not disappoint then Edie: what's she like? Liam: she's a lot but she's been through a lot Liam: maybe that's where all the shit I'm supposed to feel went to Edie: maybe Edie: that's the kind of thing a mum would do Edie: take it all on, for good or bad Liam: she does do that, since both the baby daddys she picked turned out to be losers Edie: same with mine Edie: the only person who helped her out was another chick but she died and then there was another kid to take in so Edie: I'd hate to live like that Liam: you won't Edie: I can't Liam: we've got a plan, yeah? Liam: stay with me Edie: we can be different Edie: we are Edie: don't you feel it, around everyone, all the time Liam: yeah, I do Liam: I used to hate it Edie: it's lonely Edie: was Liam: I wanted to be more like my sister, everyone knew her & liked her Liam: but she got lonely too, in the end Edie: people are selfish Edie: they couldn't deal with her pain, even though it was hers to go through Liam: she used to beg me to stay with her & I did but we weren't in the same place Liam: I couldn't go there Edie: you weren't dying Edie: that's lonely Edie: people waste their time alive being alone and not doing what they want whilst they can and for what Liam: they don't wanna live too hard in case it kills them Edie: at least that way is quick Edie: you don't have time to think about it, or wait in that place Liam: yeah Edie: it's bullshit, all of it Edie: what happened to your sister, your mum, you Edie: we'll live by our own rules and it won't be like that Liam: it was bullshit, everyone acting like there's peace & acceptance & she'd feel super chill Liam: she was angry & lonely & fucking terrified of falling off the edge Liam: exhausted from fighting to stay on Edie: why would there be, or should she be Edie: it isn't okay Edie: kids with everything ahead of them shouldn't fucking die Liam: I should've Liam: before I met you Liam: instead of her Edie: you would've if you could've Edie: the universe doesn't do trades and that's another fucked thing about it Liam: I need you to help me fix it Liam: nothing's how it's supposed to be Edie: Okay Edie: let's do it Liam: you'll really do anything for me Edie: I swear Edie: it's right Edie: it's what I'm meant to do Liam: how do you know? Edie: because I want to Edie: and if the universe is pure random, chaotic chance Edie: then you have to follow the right strings Edie: or it goes wrong, like you said Liam: & this is right Liam: the only way I have Edie: is it? Edie: for you Liam: you're all that's left Liam: I can't do anything else Liam: if this doesn't work, nothing will Edie: then it's settled Liam: you're gonna love this 🏠 Edie: what's it like? Liam: huge Liam: bigger than the one my ma rents for real Edie: no way Edie: can't believe he wasn't lying Edie: let's keep it Liam: baby, there's so much space Liam: haven't hit my head either Edie: 😱 Edie: let's stay forever Edie: we'll deal with any estate agents or potential renters who come Liam: under the floorboards Edie: bet they have loads of unnecessary storage we can use too Edie: wine cellars and pantries Liam: 👶 do have a lot of shit they need though Edie: how many bedrooms are there Liam: 4 Edie: it can have a playroom and so can we Liam: you'll be able to finish that song about me Edie: I'll write whole albums Liam: you can write one for the 👶 every milestone, like a less shit Adele Edie: 😂 Edie: I will Edie: 👶 will feel so loved Liam: I want it for my birthday Edie: have you done the maths? Liam: not in that lesson any more, give me a sec Edie: 🤞 you've not given me an impossible task 😿 Liam: [does the maths even though we don't know when his bday is or what time of year it is rn but pretend we do] Edie: okay Edie: we'll have to get moving Edie: I'll put these condoms back Liam: give them to that lad, he don't need to be having any kids Edie: seriously Edie: his brother already has some he doesn't see, right Edie: gross Liam: I got some 💊 off him that didn't do fuck all Liam: waster in every way Edie: such a loser Liam: we're gonna have to be clean Edie: me at least, when it's cooking Liam: I'm not gonna keep going without you Edie: serious? Liam: you're willing to do anything for me, I can stop taking 💊 for you Edie: I love you Liam: hurry up, you have to see this place Edie: Okay, okay Edie: there's a lot of stuff this baby needs too Liam: I need you here Edie: then I'll run Liam: you can lie down as soon you've made it home Edie: I got us dinner Liam: gutted I don't have a real 💍 in my eye socket Edie: I'll have to use a ring pull Liam: it'll work for now Edie: were your parents married? Liam: nah, but she married my sister's dad Liam: she liked him better all round Edie: that makes sense Edie: same with mine and the others dad Edie: hence she went back to him Liam: dunno what your ma was thinking but in fairness to mine he was less of a twat for a while Edie: can't help who you love Edie: some people are unlucky with that too Liam: yeah Liam: & some people never get to be in love Edie: some people don't let themselves Liam: like we said earlier about not living Edie: yeah Edie: I guess it is scary but what's the alternative Liam: I used to properly feel things you know Edie: before your sister died Liam: if it was there before, it could be again Edie: definitely Edie: I know it Edie: we'll work it out Liam: you'll be happy here Liam: [a pic of the cute shit he's been doing in her absence trying to make this place nice for her] Edie: 🥺🥺 Edie: it says I'm nearly there Liam: I'll come out so I can carry you in 👰 Edie: you know I'd die to make you happy Liam: but that isn't what I want Liam: I'd prefer if you lived forever Edie: then I'll do that Edie: we can have hundreds of babies if that's what you need Edie: or do all the drugs in the world Edie: or go on the longest killing spree Liam: I think that'd take a huge toll on you physically, which I don't want either Liam: I'm not trying to ruin you Edie: you might make me actually cry Liam: stay beautiful, that's what I need Edie: Come get me Liam: [does] Edie: [lowkey laden down with all the essentials be careful boy] Liam: [literally take a sec to imagine them going from room to room planning their lives like adorable nerds] Edie: [this is all so bittersweet we're so mean] Liam: [I'm totally fine and not gonna sob] Edie: [I think if they made it look lived in, it'd make the squatters go away, so then it's just when the landlord/estate agent moment shows up eventually, but I think that would give them a bit of time to do it, even if it's like a week] Liam: [there's just something so pure about this, like it really reminds me how young and broken they are, casually playing pretend like little kids here] Edie: [mhmm, like because she's technically smart everyone expects her to be cynical and realistic but she can't be and is like genuinely if we try hard enough this will all work and be real] Liam: [just reminding me of my pure baby angel Carly in a way I did not expect to be hit by, excuse me] Edie: [when you're more like her and Billie is more like Ali don't mind me] Liam: [I don't know why I love that so much but I do] Edie: [just live your best lives huns, all the ridiculous things you've got for this home moment, also some kind of baby doll 'cos we didn't steal a real child] Liam: [we don't need either of you getting in that much trouble when the fams are gonna be annoyed as is, they should totally film something with it during this week because those hoes] Edie: [creepy, cryptic video in response to where you are like soz for scaring you all half to death it's just our brand] Liam: [and she should practice tattoo designs on it for him like do you like this one or nah] Edie: [definitely covered in biro] Liam: [put your treasure in it's eye socket] Edie: [there's so many sick designs tbh] Liam: [are we saying they still go to school or purely hole up] Edie: [probably hole up 'cos 1 why not but 2 at least you'd know they were together even if not where lol] Liam: [it adds to the vibe of their own little world so I'm here for it] Edie: [like truly why would you go to school, maybe when you're pregnant and we need to win people 'round lmao] Liam: [he wouldn't stalk Rio all week that means #proudofyouboy] Edie: [we're all thrilled] Liam: [actual progress for real because he's been doing it for years and he didn't force Edie to go to school so he could] Edie: [it truly is, when you're just having fun gah] Liam: [proud of you for living real life again boy, speaking of, we know the vibe but is there anything you wanna write down here as defs happening this week other than what we've said?] Edie: [hmm, so let's recap real quick and then we can add anything if we think of it, we've got homey things and he's made it cute and we're playing house so the squatters don't come and wreck it, which is so cute, we're planning our family and life like this is absolutely nbd, doing all the biro tattoos, making our ARG and making a weird/scary vid for the fam lollollol soz, just clearly getting to know each other intensely and bonding and cementing this plan] Liam: [do write some songs gal but I also think they should try whatever drugs they want to that they haven't before they get clean for this pregnancy moment because adds to the bonding that they don't even throw a party they just do it together] Edie: [i vibe that because it isn't about the party of it all, it's the feeling things, so it makes feelsy sense] Liam: [yeah I felt it, and it's so cute that they're doing all these domestic things while sometimes high af] Edie: [like you said, we don't need to be saints 'cos who is even when they have a child but it's very noble that you're like okay let's get it out of the way lol] Liam: [literally ruster are still living lavish and partying with their champagne and coke when they have theirs, tell me I'm wrong] Edie: [mhmm, y'all are very sweet actually it's pure] Liam: [neither of them seem like they would be so sweet and pure and that's why I stan it] Edie: [maybe they can do things they'll do when they have the bub like the park etc so like normal childhood things which he probably didn't get to do much] Liam: [boo how dare you, that's so cute] Edie: [like again, bittersweet but also childlike vibes again and he can enjoy it] Liam: [also I vote he gets on this roof and shouts about his feelings like he said he was gonna on the school roof] Edie: [a mood, and you can be a bit destructive inside, just got to keep it looking respectable so every loser in town doesn't crash your fun] Liam: [OMG but what if that's towards the end of the week and he says he loves her then because he has not like literally shout it from the rooftops but genuinely] Edie: [need that tbh 'cos as in this as she is and not turning back, she's obvs noticed he hasn't like she knows she's still out here trying to make him feel not like oh yes, I have succeeded lol] Liam: [it just is real like when you're pissing about at first but then the feels carry you along] Edie: [oh you two]

[ive-got-99-problems]

In The Woods (Rocket x OC)

Max, the hunters, and the characters in the town, the rest belong to Marvel! <3

The art is also done by me.

------ Chapter 3, Into Town ------ Rocket grunted as he hopped onto the passenger seat of the old beaten up truck Max owned. He sat down with a sigh and pulled the door shut with a clang, jumping when Max tossed her backpack down at his feet.

"Hey, watch it," Rocket snapped as he lifted up his feet.

"Sorry," Max smiled before starting up the truck, the engine roaring to life as she put it into gear.

Rocket looked out the window as the trees started to pass by slowly, Max's cabin becoming smaller and smaller the farther they got.

"So you sure the humans will be alright with me just walkin around?" Rocket questioned as he looked up at her and scratched his throat.

Max sucked on her teeth, "Yeah, I was meaning to talk to you about that."

"Oh boy," Rocket mumbled as he turned to look out the window, the river that sat next to Max's cabin still following close by their side.

"There's a high chance that the guys who chased you will be in town, hunters like them always like to hang around the bars and strip clubs. Not to mention you're a walking and talking raccoon so everyone will be trying to talk to you and shit. So I was thinking that you can either stay in the truck or you can just chill in my backpack while I shop."

Rocket raised a brow, "You're serious?"

"Yeah, sorry dude."

He sighed, "So much for stretching my legs."

"You can always walk on all fours," she smirked.

"Hell no, ain't no way I'm doin that," he snapped, "So if I play stupid I'd be allowed in the shop?"

She nodded, "This is a tiny ass town in the country, Rocket, people here aren't as picky when it comes to animals in stores. Hell, the one day I saw a guy carrying his skunk around in his cart."

"What's a skunk?"

Max glanced over at him with a confused you, "You don't know what a skunk is, how?"

"Look, kid, I've been on this planet for about a year now and most of that year I've spent at the Avengers base. The only animal I know about is raccoons, dogs, and birds."

Max slammed on the breaks causing Rocket to hit the dashboard.

"Ow, what the hell-"

"You've been to the Avengers base!?" Max questioned, her eyes wide with shock.

Rocket grunted as he rubbed his head, wincing as he touched it, "Yeah, why does that-"

"You've met people like Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers-"

"Yeah, yeah, I've met all those idiots," Rocket grumbled as he waved his hand, "Don't see why they're so important."

"Wha-" Max shook her head in shock, "They saved the Earth from an alien invasion! They stopped a robot from taking over the world! How do you not find that important!?"

Rocket just scoffed, "Kid, my team and I saved the galaxy twice, saving one tiny little planet isn't a big deal."

"Saved the galaxy, how, from who!?"

"Oh, Jesus, just keep driving, I'll tell you about it later."

Max sighed and reluctantly started driving again.

Rocket crossed his arms and looked up at her after a moment of silence, "So, what's a skunk."

"Oh, right," Max said, her eyes glued to the road, "Um, a skunk is a fluffy animal that's black with a white stripe down the middle. They have this defense mechanism that when they're scared or trying to ward off predators they'll aim their butt at them and spray this nasty smell. My dog would always get sprayed by them, we had to stock up on tomato juice all the time."

"And why would someone keep that as a pet?"

She shrugged, "Because some people find them cute when they tame skunks they usually de-spray them."

"How?"

"Not sure, I've never been a skunk person."

Rocket scoffed, "Don't see why anyone would be, what was with the tomato juice?"

"That's how you get rid of the smell, normal shampoo doesn't work. We nicknamed our dog Tomato because of it, every time he saw a skunk he had to chase them, never learned his lesson."

"Uh-huh, and where's the dog now?"

"Don't know, disappeared the same day my dad did. I heard that both animals and people disappeared, pet owners would come home and there would just be a pile of ash on the floor. I think that may have happened to him."

Rocket looked at her, his one brow raised, so she could accept her dog being snapped out existence, but not her dad? Rocket found that to be a little odd but then again he thought all humans were odd so he may have just been biased.

"You shouldn't have to take any of your clothes off," Max said, "I can just tell people that you're a good boy and like dress up," she said with a grin.

Rocket winced, "Never call me that again."

Max turned her gaze to him, a devious smirk crossing her lips, "What, good boy? Who's my little good boy?" Max cooed in baby talk as she reached over and tried to rub his head.

"Stop it, don't make me bite you!" Rocket yelped as he pressed himself against the door, pushing her hand away. "Now keep your eyes on the road before you get us both killed!"

Max giggled, "I am, relax! I'm just playing around."

Rocket grumbled as he said back down, "Yeah, while drivin, real smart."

Max just grinned as she laid back against the seat, "We'll be there soon, do you want to stay in the truck or come with me?"

Rocket was silent for a moment, fears of those hunters being in the town running rapid in his mind. Maybe it was a bad idea he had come, either way, he'd be in danger. If he stayed in the truck it'd be easy for them to spot him and break in to get him, but if he went with Max they would spot him a lot easier, but then again Max would be the barrier between them and him.

"If you come with me you can pick out your own food," Max said, interrupting Rocket's thought process.

Rocket slowly nodded, "I guess I'll come with you."

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

The truck halted to a stop once Max was satisfied with her parking spot, she leaned over and picked up her backpack, pulling out her wallet before shoving it into her pocket. Rocket's heart beat loudly against his chest, anxiety rising as he thought about the hunters. He watched in a daze as Max dumped out all of the candy wrappers, notebooks, and pencils from the backpack and into the backseat. She sat the backpack down in front of Rocket, she paused when she saw the worried look on his face.

"Rocket, you doing ok?" Max questioned, a look of concern on her face as she held open the backpack, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"No, no, it's fine,"  Rocket quickly replied.

He slowly climbed into the backpack and made sure he was in a comfortable spot before Max zipped up the backpack up until only his arms, shoulders, and head shown. Max opened the truck door, it squealing as it swung open. Max jumped out of the truck before pulling on the backpack and slamming the door shut. Rocket pulled Max's curls away so he could see over her shoulder. The shop was surprisingly big for such a small town, a few people hung around the outside of the building, some smoking, some talking, and some begging for money.

"A lot of homeless around here," Max said under her breath, "The cities are too chaotic, people are scared and when they're scared, they become violent. Its the rich and the homeless they automatically go after, the homeless because they're easy and the rich, well you know why they'd go after them."

Rocket stayed quiet, he hadn't really thought about what the humans were going through. He mainly focused on his grieving and trying to survive. He heard some of the remaining Avengers discuss the tragedies the humans were facing but most of it went through one ear and out the other.

"Morning Max."

Rocket snapped out of his haze as a women spoke, he turned and saw a woman only a couple of years older than Max behind the counter. She leaned over it as she looked at her phone, not even bothering to look up as Max walked past.

"Hey Lesa, ever get a text back from Jeremy?"

The woman scoffed, "No, jackass refuses to talk to me, runs off if I so much as look at him."

Max smiled before shrugging, "Well there's always the next guy."

She just gave an affirmative grunt, her dull expression becoming shocked as she looked up from her phone and saw Rocket.

"Oh my god, you have a raccoon now?! And look at him, he's wearing a little scarf!" She cooed as she rushed over to Max. "What's his name?"

Max frowned, sensing Rocket's unease, "Oh, it's uh, Rocket, I just found this little guy one day and he seemed tame so I just kept him."

"Aw, he's such a cute little thing!"

Max's eyes widened as she brought her hand towards Rocket, she could hear a faint growl admit from the back of Rocket's throat which caused her to jump back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lesa," she laughed nervously, "He's a little skittish, probably shouldn't pet him."

Lesa frowned, a look of confusion on her face, "But you just said-"

"Y'know it's getting late, I really need to get my groceries and head out," Max said before quickly grabbing a cart and pushing it down the aisle.

She sighed in relief as she went down the aisle, she could feel Rocket relax, just a little.

"Thanks," he mumbled, catching her off guard, "Didn't want that women's hands anywhere near me."

Max gave a small smile, "No problem, now, what would you like to eat? I usually get things like frozen pizzas, ramen noodles, soup, cereal, and sometimes those microwaved meals."

"Well, I don't really know anything about human food so just get whatever," he replied quietly, not wanting any more unwanted attention.

"Oh, alright, but if you see anything that you'd like to try just let me know. I got a little extra from the fish I caught when I pulled you out of the river so I have a little more to spend."

Rocket remained quiet as they went through aisle to aisle, his eyes roaming over all the food products and taking note of all that Max added to the chart. No one gave them any trouble, some just gave looks and whispers, some would come over and coo about how cute he was, and some just straight out ignored them. The ones that ignored them were Rocket's favorites, it took every bone in his body not to snap at those who stared and tell them to 'fuck off.'

Rocket sighed softly, hoping that Max would be done soon and they could head back to the cabin. That was when he saw a man, it was one of the men from the forest. His heart stopped and he felt like he was about to throw up, Rocket prayed to any god that existed that the man wouldn't see him. He slouched down and pushed Max's hair in front of him, trying to make sure the man didn't see him.

Max felt him move her hair and could feel his small body shaking, "Rocket, what's wrong?" She whispered, turning her head to the side to try and see him.

"We need to leave," he whispered back.

Max looked around the store and saw the man, his beard thick and curly, his hands rough and had dirt under his nails. He held basket that held beer, a small packet of ham, and a pair of pliers with some rope. Max tensed up and her heart nearly stopped when the man noticed her, she quickly looked away and began to push the cart, her heart pounding in her chest.

"That's a cute raccoon you got there."

She winced, "Yeah, uh, thanks."

"Never seen one with a scarf before."

"Yeah, he's one of a kind," she responded with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, I bet, kind of looks familiar. I've never really seen any brown raccoons with a scarf before, well, other then three days ago that is."

"Oh really, well a lot of crazy stuff has been happening lately, maybe there's a whole swarm of brown raccoons with scarves running through the area?"

The man remained quiet as he stared at Rocket, "How'd you come across this little fella?"

"Oh, I've had him for years, had him since he was a baby."

The man nodded, his eyes still locked on Rocket.

Max cleared her throat, turning her body so Rocket would be hidden behind her, "Well, it was very nice to meet you but I need to get going."

She could feel his eyes as she walked off, her body shaking as her heart bashed against her ribcage. She was quick to leave after the encounter, neither her or Rocket saying a word until they got back into the truck. Once in they both let out a sigh of relief, Rocket falling against the seat.

"Fuck, I nearly pissed myself when that dude started talking," Max muttered as she ran her hand through her hair, "You alright?"

He nodded, "I'll be a lot better when we get back to the cabin."

She sighed before putting the keys back into the ignition, "Yeah, me too."

[sheepbutthead]

All to pretty asks.

some pretty asks✨

angel; is there anyone you’d do anything for?

I don’t know about anything but there are people I would do almost anything for.

galaxy; what fascinates you?

A bunch of stuff, man. How people think, how our bodies work, how ice always forms in structures with multiples of six sides, how music works. I’m easily impressed with the universe, my man.

melody; favorite artists?

Ummm I like a bunch of artists, both musically and like with imagery art. I like the Front Bottoms, Jack Stauber, Arctic Monkeys, Jack Johnson, Joji, Laura Marling, Dodie, Tessa Violet, Neutral Milk Hotel, Oliver Tree, Phil Collins, Post Malone, Yellow Ostrich for music. I like a fuckton of like imagery artists and they’re all on Instagram besides Monet or Van Gogh. I like rabbitfears, mattgordon_paintings, borisgroh, toothy.bj, faunwood, ohnonatalie, mrmtacchia, missmonstermel, samanthamashillustration, lucyknisley, drydenart, babezord, cyarine, perryfellow, teaganwh, petemohrbacher. 

silk; what outfit makes you feel confident?

I don’t really have one I guess. I like wearing this burgundy, soft, long sleeve button up with my black pants I guess. I also like wearing my blazer/hoodie combo coat thing. Makes me feel pretty cool yo. Also my alien hat always helps.

rose; favorite flower?

I really like the lotus flower.

sun; favorite season

Autumn

film; favorite movie/tv show?

Don’t do this to me. Movies: Secret Life of Walter Mitty, Speed Racer, Blair Witch Project, and honestly so many more I can’t answer. TV Show: Parks and Rec, Office, Black Mirror, Explained, and so many more honestly.

gorgeous; what do you like in a person?

Humor, understanding, smart, someone that’ll kinda snap me out of it when I’m too focused on something stupid, independent, aannnddd it doesn’t hurt to have a similar sex drive I’mjustsaying.

diamond; favorite color?

I like dark reds, blues, greys, and sooometimes dark greens.

infatuation; first crush?

My first crush was this girl in preschool who was older than me and never talked to me. I think her named started with like a K or a C?

dream; how long do you sleep on average?

Oh buddy, not enough

brilliant; what celebrity do people say you look like?

Well when I was younger my girlfriend at the time always said I looked like Michael Cera but now no one really says who I look like because I kinda outgrew that look.

perfume; favorite scent?

Oh dude, who knows. Fresh cut wood, food cooking, my soap, wax, probably more.

fleece; have any pets?

I have one cat whose name is Spoopy and I love her. I have one dog whose name is Dusty and he is old and I love him. There’s another dog named Piggy but he’s my sister’s and he can be kind of an ass.

pigment; what color is your hair naturally? if you could dye it any color which one would you choose?

My hair is naturally a dirty blonde. I would dye it like a white or silver. That’d be cool.

charcoal; do you have a good relationship with your parents?

Honestly, not really. My mom is super judgy and we’re always kind of tense around each other. Dad is just kind of awkward to be around and I’m always wanting to be in his good favor. I love them both but they can be super dramatic  soooooooo that’s where I get that from.

ocean; do you take a yearly vacation?

Nahh we used to but ya know, money is a thing. That is needed. That we don’t have.

murky; biggest fear?

Man, I don’t know. Everyone is kind of scared of death. Maybe that I’ll stop changing and growing. That I’ll end up like my parents and always push people away to end up alone. Or really anything like my parents. Maybe that I’ll never figure my shit out. Just typical stuff really.

devotion; are you taken?

The aliens take me every night to chill in there ship where I cry on their shoulders and they pat my back and give me hot chocolate before I introduce them to some Earth movies on their space couch in their space living room in their space ship.

lingerie; what do you wear to bed?

Yes. Lingerie. Only the finest ratty, hole filled shirts and pants. I literally have a giant whole in my crotch that lets in the worst breeze but I can’t be bothered to sew it up properly and also I’m tired.

daydream; best memory?

Really any memory of hanging out with friends or someone I really care about doing fun stuff. Like old parties or adventures or more intimate stuff.

joy; best feeling you’ve ever experienced?

Dude I have no fucking clue. Maybe like getting a really cool or specific gift for my birthday. Or people actually thinking to reach out to me to invite me to stuff or just talk. That feels pretty good to be honest. 

masque; what’s your skincare routine?

All I do is wash my face with warm water and soap in the shower and everything’s been ok for me so far.

valentine; best gift you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I’ve ever really received a Valentine’s gift besides maybe some candy in high school. That’s all I can really remember. 

parchment; favorite book?

Right now it’s either All the Bright Places or The Good Inn. I haven’t really had the time to read any other books lately so it hasn’t changed much over the years. But it’s probably The Good Inn.

garden; do you have a garden? plants?

I do have a few little succulents I take care of. I have a cactus and a succulent I adopted from my sister when she left them to die. My fuzzy succulent was a birthday gift, my sedum was a stolen treasure, and I bought my aloe from Walmart.

oasis; dream destination?

I’d really love to go to Santorini, Greece or Iceland or Quebec, Canada. Or any of the ancient Greek places. Quebec, Canada has this Winter Festival I’d love to see.

sense; best subject? favorite subject?

I’m not particularly great at any subject besides maybe music? Maybe? I do like music.

footprints; do you want kids?

Ehhh I don’t know. If I do have any I kind of just want one.

rainbow; what’s your sexuality?

Eyyyy yoooo I’m a bi guy, my dude

sweater; do you prefer loose or baggy clothes?

I guess just loose? I don’t want it to be super baggy unless it’s like a sweater or something like that. But I also don’t want it to be super tight. So yeah just loose.

nail laquer; punk or pastel?

Both, bitch

1975; if you could time travel to any time period, what would it be and why?

God, I dunno. I’m a white male so really I’d be doing great in any time besides maybe like the War World II era because of my Jew-ness. The Industrial Revolution would be pretty cool. Or the Bronze Age.

tattoos; do you have/want and tattoos and piercings?

I don’t really want any piercings but I have A BUNCH of ideas for tattoos.

[zombies-apocalypse]

Gargoyles - Awakening

Gonna do all four, five parts in this one post. 

I know, I know. I’ve been doing the read more thing lately. It’s not my usual fare, but hey, it’s November. I’m NaNoing so... Yeah, you know the drill.

Part 1

Ahh, this animation style. It’s just straight up nostalgia - ELISA MAZA. My girl! <3 Man, I’ve missed her! 

Clawmarks in solid stone. GASP. I wonder what that could have been caused by!

Back to the past!

Why doesn’t that guy’s mustache match his hair?

Sun’s looking real low there, boys. 

Ahh, Goliath. How I have missed you, big guy! And that voice. A+ voice.

So, kid' show. Remember. I don’t even know how many of these people are dead now. At least a few have fallen to their deaths. In the first episode.  Cause in Gargoyles, shit like this happens. 

Royal bitch lady and even the soldiers griping about the Gargoyles. Bitch, please. Ya’ll owe them so much. Beasts? Beasts in the dining hall? Jeez, don’t be an ass. Ugggh. Those assholes.

I’m sitting here on Demona’s side. And not anymore. Not down with the bowing. Goliath being reasonable. Good guy Goliath. Such a sweetie, such a good guy. I’m so, so sorry for what he’ll have to go through soon.

Seriously. Goliath’s voice. Goddamn. Goddamn!

Okay, that mom was rude but you don’t need to be making matters worse by scaring the bitch-ass peasants.

Ugh. Okay, so I don’t like that it’s Vikings coming to attack (cause I like Vikings) but this is just all a human problem. This cowardace, betrayal... Uggggh. And the poor innocents who have to pay. The children and the Gargoyles. And so many defenseless Gargoyles murdered.

I remind you, this is a kid’s show.

Part 2

Ahhh, I’ve gotten how much I loved the opening music for this. Such an epic theme! Hyping me up for the upcoming adventure!

I don’t blame them for wanting revenge. I’d want revenge too.

Of course they’d follow for revenge, you dumbass! You didn’t kill all of them. 

Ugggh. The Magus blaming the Gargoyles for the princess being killed. Even though they didn’t do it. Oh man, this curse. It’s not their fault, you assfart. And the princess still lives!

Mad props to Goliath for saving the Princess who was a bitch. Also mad props to the princess for realising the Gargoyles were not the beasts she thought. Ahhh. My heart though. Goliath choosing to be spelled rather than be alone. (Although honestly, he could’ve just waited until the eggs in the rookery hatched and then he wouldn’t be alone cause he could raise them.

Bitch just legit ran all the way inside and up the stairs. So excited to see Goliath. Makes it clear from the start that Xanatos is extra AF.

“Pay a man enough and he’ll walk barefoot into hell.”

Seriously, how much money does this motherfucker have? Cause he’s paying to buy a castle and paying everything to take at least some chunks of it and affix it on top of his skyscraper.

And the curse is broken! Woo! Their reaction to the city though. A+. 

Xanatos, you extra mother fucker.

Oh, the eggs are gone. RIP. Although it has been 1000 years...

I’m just shaking my head at this entire fight. 

LOL. “These weapons. We must be fighting sorcerers!” 

Oh, and now we’re seeing what lead to the beginning of the first episode. Hello Elisa. 

No, Goliath. Don’t trust Xanatos. Oh no, wait, trust humans. Just not that one. 

Part Thre?e

Seriously though, how were girls supposed to watch this show without getting a crush on Goliath? Just saying. 

And hell, Elisa. Elisa’s a babe too. Can we talk about her? How she’s smart, brave, and awesome. A badass babe who’s a damn good detective with a lovely heart. And she’s a POC! And a main character!  Legit, she’s  African/Native American. She was always  meant to be a POC. Originally they had her as Hispanic, but when they cast her voice actress they changed Elisa to match. And this in a show that came out in 94!

So Elisa just met Goliath during all the time that I was babbling about Elisa.

Dude, I don’t do heights so I can’t blame her one bit for clinging.

Ahh, these two. “A good detective trusts no one.” “That much we have in common.” You say that, you both say that. But nahhh, you’re cinnamon rolls underneath all that distrust.

Floppy! That’s a floppy! AHH. VHS!

Hi Demona. Think I didn’t recognise you in those shadows there? 

This show is sometimes really pretty.

“Stay outta sight.” Solid advice that will quickly be forgotten.

AHH. Just scooped her up! And that smile. AHH. Bridal style. Ahhhh.

Gods, this music. XD

Meanwhile, back at the castle. The newly named Hudson is walking around with their pouty pupper. And getting startled by rock’n’roll.

Jesus lady. A car with a carphone in 94? 40 grand... You’re talking like he brought it from some junkyard.

Meanwhile, the other three are blowing up some guy’s motorbike.

Oh, well. Who knew a single tranq dart would be enough to take down a Gargoyle. Or did they get him a few more times after that. I don’t know. 

Part 4

Dunnnn, dun dun dun dun dunnnnnn! 

There’s my girl, kicking some ass! They underestimated her. Also they don’t know how to aim.

Oh god, don’t try calling a taxi. That won’t end well. Yup, there he goes. 

Yup, just a single tranq dart. Just one. Just now taken off. And a tracker. 

Elisa the beast whisperer. Taming wild dogs long enough to put the tracker on him. Smart girl.

Hudson and puppers are getting used to the idea of television. Oh, I saw The Lion King for a second there. I see what you did there Disney. 

And Elisa now knows he turns to stone during the day. Brave girl, catching their eye and leading them away. You know she’s gotta be exhausted. It’s been a long night for her and yet she’s still being a champion. Gods, I love her.

Again, their aim is rubbish while hers is on point. Go Elisa! <3

That lighting though, when the blond baddie stepped over the crack. Ahhhh.

Also what part of New York city is this that has a dock and a waterfall? 

This guy is an idiot. Again, underestimating my girl. 

Moment of awe and respect for Elisa. Leading those jackasses away, risking her life, and then returning to guard Goliath! <3 

Brooklyn! Broadway! Lexington! Ahhh, my precious boys! And let’s not forget our adorable Bronx! <3 

And NOW. NOW he reveals that Demona’s there. Insert gasp of shock from Goliath. And sinister look from Demona, a character who was never very good. And full of bullshit. Yeah, sure. He acquired her for his private collection, but she implied she asked to be cursed by the magus to be with them. AHH Goliath, you’re still in wuv with the bitch. 

Ugggh, Goliath, sweetie. She’s no good. 

Of course the Elevator is different. You’re looking at the mechanics that pull it up and down, not the one people ride in. Such a good detail there.

Part 5

FLOPPY ACQUIRED.

I feel bad for all the frightened scientists in that building. Jeez, imagine their nightmares after that.

Talk of monsters, you say? As if your people haven’t fought them before, eh? It almost smacks of a miscommunication. Of course, the defenders dressing differently from the attackers don’t seem to register to the Gargoyles. Then again, they have yet to see a reason not to trust Demona and Xanatos. Poor darlings. 

Second floppy acquired.

NYOOM.

And now for Goliath and Demon to complete their mission... Success, but of course Demona fucks up their poor ship because she gives no shits about the well-being of humans. Splash. At least they had a softish landing in the water. Some of them should’ve survived. Most probably died.

Again, this is a kid’s show.

Ahhh, that hate. Hating all the humans for the sins of a few who are long gone. 

Ahhh, the truth comes out! The attackers are from Xanatos’ company. No one had stolen anything from him. He sent them after disks that didn’t belong to him! Gasp! He used them from the beginning! Colour me shocked! (Which I’m not, of course.) And of course Demona’s in on it. 

Dudeee, the Goliath bots. I forget what they’re called. But goddamn are they cool.

That isn’t a very sturdy bot, Xanatos. Should’ve made them more impact resistant. 

I’d ask why he bothered with waking up Goliath and his friends to begin with, but it’s more cost effective to have a self-healing attack dog than a robotic one. Obviously he was hoping he’d get the actual Gargoyles on his side, expecting them to play nice - which he did very well except with Goliath himself.

Ah, Demona with a rocket launcher. 

Ahhh, the reveal. Demona had betrayed them along with the captain. Tsk tsk. And now everyone hears it. 

Elisa to the rescue! Woo! 

Oh no, they both fell! And Demona’s wings got hit! And Goliath caught Elisa, but not Demona who fell out of view. Bye bitch. See ya later.

And Xanatos has been arrested. I don’t recall how long that lasts.

“Good, maybe we’ll catch a Giants game.” “Giants?” Ahahaha, he has no idea what she’s talking about and it’s precious.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #470

“how can you choose to let the blind see better than you?”

What was the main character called in the last film you watched? Dewey. What would you name your pet snake if you had one? It would depend on its appearance. The snake I have now is named Venus because of her coloration. Do you like peanuts? Only if they're covered in chocolate or in granola bars in small portions. Have you ever gambled? What was your biggest loss/win? No. What was the last movie you watched? Who did you watch it with? Girt and I watched School of Rock together. What do you eat for breakfast? Excluding the rare occasions my mom cooks something, usually cereal or a sandwich. Do you have a Flickr? I do, but it's abandoned. Anything exciting happening in the month of September? No. When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Oh man, it's been too long. I really want one now. Do you eat breakfast daily? Yeah. What was the last thing to scare you? "Scare" is a strong word, but I was very, very nervous to hear what weight I'd gained since my last doctor's appointment. Do you like mustard? Yeah, I do. Do you have a desktop computer or laptop? A laptop. Do you like to play Jenga? I guess? I don't really have an opinion on it. Do you like Fresca? Not very, but I'll drink it if I really want a soda and it's the only option. How many towels do you use after a shower? Just one. Would you ever flash a cop if you knew you'd get out of a ticket? Um, no thank you. What is your favorite thrill ride ever? I don't like those. I'm afraid of puking or fainting. Biggest irrational fear? Truly irrational, probably whale sharks. Favorite movie sequel? Hm. If you had endless funds, where would you buy most of your clothes? Cloak and Rebel's Market. How many jobs have you had? Three, technically. What is your favorite thing to do in your city? Oh hun, fun doesn't exist here. This place sucks. Have you ever gone strawberry picking? Ha ha, yes... but I was a little kid that absolutely gorged on the strawberries instead of putting them in my basket. The person that worked there didn't make my mom pay for what I did or anything, but they made a joke about weighing me to check the damage I did, ha ha. My face was COVERED in strawberry juice. I wish I could actually remember the occasion, but I was too young. How many times have you seen a doctor this month? It feels like a lot. >_< I had to get blood drawn for two different things on separate appointments, I had a follow-up appointment with my primary physician about my weight, I recently spoke to my therapist and psychiatrist... Could you pull off orange hair? I've actually considered like, a light creamsicle orange. I actually edited a photo of me with my current hair style trying different colors, and that tint looked pretty cute. Do you shave your legs? It sounds dumb, but yes, now that I'm in a relationship. I feel obligated to at least try and be attractive by societal standards. I know it seriously doesn't matter, but I would be so inexplicably mortified if he saw my unshaven legs kalsdj;flkasdjwe What type of weather is your favorite? Snowy! Coolest place you've ever been? Disney World, probs. Do you like corn on the cob? Yeah, man. Have you ever waited tables? No. Build your favorite pizza. Soft pan crust, your average amount of sauce and a good amount of cheese with various meats on it. What did you last get fancy for? I wouldn't say I got like, super fancy, but I wore a nice shirt and a necklace when Girt came over for the first time as a couple. I thought we were actually leaving the house to go out to dinner, but the plan was actually to have Buffalo Wild Wings delivered. It was totally fine by me, I'd just misunderstood. Dream pet? A female Brazilian Black tarantula named Black Betty. :') Do you tend to get clingy in relationships? I know I do. What is the last horror movie you watched? It's sad that I don't know. :( Would you be grossed out if your best friend mooned you? No, I'd just be extremely confused lmao. What is the last thing that you drank? Milk. Currently popular song that you can't stand? I have zero idea what songs are popular right now. What is the weather like right now? Too fuckin' hot to be mid-September. Do you have favorite type/brand of pen? I mean, I like the feel of gel pens. I don't know about brands. What is your go-to snack at the convenience store? Some form of Reese's. Popular drink that you dislike? Coffee shocks the most people. What TV show are you waiting on to return/create a new season? None. What is something you currently want but cannot afford? Oh, dear. -_- Do you have sensitive skin? Very. How many toilets are in your house? Two. Do you have an older sister? Three that I know, one that I don't really count because I know nothing about her and have never spoken to her. What color is your mum’s car? White. Do you live in an apartment? No. Cats are usually cuter than dogs right? Kittens are generally cuter than puppies, imo. Where do you keep your kitty litter box? It has to stay in my bedroom, which I hate. Mom insists on in being in here so I don't forget to clean it. My memory is awful, but I'm preeeetty sure I'd remember to give my cat a clean place to use the bathroom if it was kept in the spare room by the door... Are you rude to little children? No; even if I don't really like kids, that is something I definitely avoid. Kids should never lose their hope in or love for humanity, and I would absolutely hate to be one of those people that makes the human race appear unpleasant. Are you a lighter complexion than your father? BY FAR. He's a mailman so is out in the sun nearly every day, so he's pretty damn dark to be Caucasian. I wouldn't be surprised if by his complexion he's ever been mistaken for being Hispanic, because the color definitely fits. Do you like apricots? No. Are banana chips delicious? Ew, that sounds gross. Do you like kinky sex? I wouldn't know, my dude. I've never really explored outside of pretty vanilla stuff. What is one thing you will never do again? Rely solely on another person for happiness. Would you rather be twice as smart or twice as happy? Twice as happy. That's not even a competition. What would your parents be surprised to learn about you? I very legitimately wonder if I would be disowned for how fucked up some of the shit I write is, ha ha. Mom would probably cry if she saw some of even the milder stuff and force the topic to come up in therapy. If you could have been a child prodigy what would you have wanted to be skilled at? Maybe painting? If earth could only have one condiment for the rest of time, what would you pick to keep around? Hmmm... I suppose ketchup. Do you think it’s important to stay up to date with the news? I think it is, but I don't. .-. What is the best present you could ever receive? An all-expenses-paid trip to South Africa to visit and tour with the Kalahari Meerkat Project to meet and photograph the meerkats. :''''''''''') Would you give up one of your fingers if it meant you’d have free WiFi wherever you go, for the rest of your life? Nah. That's what data is for, lol. If someone told you you could give one person a present and your budget was unlimited–what present would you get and for whom? A new car for Mom. Giant house in a subdivision or tiny house somewhere with a view? Oh, that is SO easy. Give me the view. Well wait, HOW tiny is the house? My answer would change if it was one of those truly mini houses that would make me feel claustrophobic as shit. What was your favorite Disney movie as a kid? The Lion King. Still is. Do you brush your teeth in the bathroom, or do you get bored & roam around? I roam around. Does your city/town have a little festival/carnival every year? Yes. I never really pay attention tho 'cuz I never go. Have you ever been to an apple orchard? No, but I would love to go. Were there any cartoons your parents didn’t let you watch as a kid? Except "adult" cartoons obviously, no. Could you handle motherhood? No fucking way. Being entirely serious, I think I'd either end up dead or horribly depressed, and the kid psychologically damaged to some extent from having an unstable mother. Like do not get me wrong, I'd try very hard, but I know I couldn't stay sane and happy as a mom. Have you ever touched a squirrel? No. What's better, candles or incense? Incense. What movie did you see the most in theaters? I don't watch movies in theaters twice. It's expensive to go even once. Who played the best Batman? Idk. I didn't watch all the movies. Who’s the best American Idol thus far? *shrug* What’s likely to happen next in your family - wedding, funeral, or birth? Uh, I suppose a wedding? None seem likely any time soon. Do you like hot, cold, or lukewarm showers? Hot. Have you ever taken part in a threesome? No, not my jam. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yep. Which movie’s musical score is truly memorable? Tarzan came to mind very quickly. What’s your favorite scene from the movie Titanic? Idk, I've only seen it once. Which TV show theme music do you remember most? That '70s Show. Have you ever bounced any checks? ... I don't even know what that means. :x Have you ever been snipe hunting? I will never in my life hunt in any way, shape, or form. Do you try to be politically correct? For the most part, but I do believe it's gone too far. Generally though, I try to conform to the "rules" to avoid offending someone. What’s your favorite kind of sea critter? Bottlenose dolphins, various types of whales, sea turtles... I don't think I could pick one. Have you ever tasted locally-made honey before? Does it count if it's from a honeysuckle flower? Do you like to wear toe socks? No, they're mad uncomfortable imo. Have you ever worn bright red lipstick? Yes. Do you think raccoons are adorable, like I do? BABIES!!!!!!!!!!!

[angelstiles-blog1]

right now - stiles stilinski

pairing: stiles x reader word count: 3,584 warning(s): smut, a lot of it, oral (male receiving), fingering, lots of hickies, etc

a/n: alright so basically i always have this huge thought when i see stiles and how he literally used to be the biggest virgin ever like it’s so cute and it sparked this imagine, also, sorry if it sucks! i kind of wanted to just get it done, but, lmao, enjoy :-)

-

Stiles Stilinski was too hot to be true.

He was the shit, too. Everyone knew him. He played first line in lacrosse, he had the tonest body I had ever seen, and he was a complete sweetheart, aside from his sarcastic attitude. And I had the absolute honor of being able to be one of his best friends.

Recently, one of his biggest complaints is that he’s in a world where everyone around him fucks like bunnies, and he does not.

I had never understood the big deal of having sex until I experienced it. Stiles was missing out. Sure, the first time - for women at least - kinda hurt, but after 2 or 3 times, it got better. Of course, if I had the chance to, I’d take his virginity in a heartbeat. But, I already knew what he would say if I offered, so I’d always brush that idea to the back of my mind.

Sex was all Stiles talked about. When he would see Lydia in the hallway: sex. When we would talk about reproduction in health: sex. When we sat at the lunch table: sex. You could have a conversation with him about literally anything, and he would find some way to bring up sex. It kind of bugged me, because we got the idea, but the thought of Stiles having sex made up for it.

I bet he’s a moaner.

No - stop that!

But.. -

No!

God.

Anyway, you get the point. Stiles is just all about sex and the act of having it.

And god, I wish I could fuck him. I wish I could be the one to show him what it feels like. I wish I could be his first.

I shake my head at my own thoughts and sigh, tapping my pencil anxiously on my desk. Currently, I’m taking a Geometry test, and it’s not enjoyable whatsoever - it’s such bullshit, she gives us review on things we didn’t learn, and then gets mad when we don’t pass. However, I get by just fine, because I actually study. Stiles, who is in my class, seems to be having a terrible time. I snort quietly at his frustration, looking over at him. (He also, coincidentally, sits next to me.) “Need help?” I whisper, raising a brow. He rolls his eyes and scoffs at me, a gesture that I’m completely used to by now. “No..” He mutters, “I do not need help, Miss Perfect, I’m completely fine.” Miss Perfect was a nickname he called me to annoy me. I really, really fucking hated it. It just.. reminded me of someone who I would never want to be. It’s weird to say that I would never want to be perfect, because almost “Shut the fuck up.” I teased quietly and went back to working, occasionally looking over at Stiles, who was so annoyed with the test, that I think he was about to break his pencil. I rolled my eyes and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. “Calm down.” I murmured, “If you need help, just ask me, dude.” “I. Don’t. Need. It.” Stiles whined and squeezed my hand back, writing down an answer, which I saw to be very wrong, but I didn’t comment. Geometry had always been really easy for me, ‘cause I just got math. There wasn’t any type of math that I struggled with. I sighed and nodded, deciding to just leave him be. After the bell had rung, I walked out with Stiles, holding my books to my chest. “How do you think you did?” I asked him, running a hand through my hair.

“Pretty good..” He lied, sighing. “Kidding. Terrible. I think I need a tutor.” “I’ll do it!” I blurted out and looked up at him with a grin, “Let me tutor you. I’ll totally do it.” “Really?” Stiles perked up and grinned, nodding quickly. I was surprised he was on board with the idea, considering the fact that it was so sudden, “I’ll totally let you do it.” “Alright Stilinski, I’ll help. Just - come to mine later, okay? After school? Does that work?” He answered with a nod and shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll drive you. God, thank you so much, Y/N. I don’t even know where I’d be without you.” I giggled and shoved him a bit. “You’re just saying that.” Man, I was so excited. - The day was over, and I had grabbed my things and met Stiles in the parking lot. I got into his blue jeep, Roscoe, and buckled myself in. He did the same and started the ignition, grinning over at me. “I’m gonna get smart!” “You’re already smart,” I rolled my eyes at him and looked out the window, “You just have to find like, something to focus on. Inspiration or whatever. It helps you.” “Like sex?” He smiled, wiggling his brows a little. “God, why am I still a virgin? I’m not even that bad looking, I don’t get it, why does no one want to fuck me?” I want to fuck you.

“Stiles, sex isn’t even that big of a deal..” I lied, twiddling my thumbs as he backed out of the parking lot, “Oh - fuck.” Stiles didn’t even know I wasn’t a virgin. I didn’t want him to freak out at the fact that I had done it before he did, but now he knew, and he was not pleased. “You’ve had sex?!” He whined, groaning loudly, “Why has everyone on this planet experienced that except for me?!” “Stiles, I -” “Noooo! I don’t wanna hear it,” Stiles interrupted and started to drive, “God, Y/N, I can’t believe you! Why didn’t you tell me? Was it good? Who did you do it with? Did it hurt?” All at once he started to throw questions at me, making me slightly streased, “Stiles, jesus christ, hold on. One at a time,” I took a moment to think, “Uh. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you feel some type of way. The first time kinda hurt, but after that it was good, and I did it with an ex boyfriend.” Stiles seemed like he didn’t know how to act, and he just nodded and sighed, “I don’t get it. Am I not attractive? Is it my luck?” He paused for a moment, “You’d have sex with me, right?”

I widened my eyes at his question and turned to look at him, a serious, but hopeful look on his face. “That’s.. I.. uh..” I stuttered, scared at what he would think of my answer, “Uh - y - yeah, I would, I think any girl at our school would.” He brushed it off so casually I don’t even think he processed what I said fully. “I know, right? It’s so fucking confusing. It’s like, all they have to do is ask. I’d probably be down.” He pulled into the driveway of my home and turned the car off, grabbing his things and getting out. I sat there confused for a moment, but got out as well and closed the door, hearing the car beep when he locked it. I shook my head and unlocked the door to my house, walking in and closing it behind Stiles. I grabbed a bag of chips from the kitchen and then jogged upstairs into my room, to which he followed me. I shut the door behind us and watched Stiles walk in and lay on my bed, opening his backpack, “So, we gonna start with geometry, or -” 'All they have to do is ask. I’d probably be down..’

“Stiles, do you want to have sex with me?” I asked, completely disregarding what he said. Stiles widened his eyes and blinked, hard, his face immediately going crimson red, “W - What..?” “Do you,” I started, dropping my backpack and crawling on top of the bed slowly. It was a bold move, but if I wanted to get into this guy’s pants, I was gonna try anything, “Want to have sex with me?” Stiles gulped and squeaked quietly, his hand gripping my sheets, his veins popping up - god, his veins - “I - Is this a joke? Y/N, you’re not funny..” I rolled my eyes and decided to sit down in his lap, grabbing his hand and placing it on my thigh, “No, it’s not a joke. Are you down?” “Holy god..” He murmured and squeezed my thigh gently, “I don’t - I don’t know what to do..” “Think about this: would you rather play with me, or play with yourself?” I replied slowly, moving his hand up to my chest, feeling it twitch underneath me. “I’ve already done that twice today..” I asked myself how could he possibly have done that twice, seeing as we had school the entire day, but then shook the thought away and placed one of my hands onto his chest, pinning him down, “Answer the question.” “I’d rather play with you,” He looked up at me with puppy dog eyes and whimpered a bit, and I could already feel him start to get hard, “I’d definitely rather play with you.” “Good choice,” I whispered and helped him pull his shirt off. He definitely was tone in all the right places, he had a perfect body and I wasn’t complaining - and god, his happy trail was everything, “I’m gonna kiss you, alright?” All he could do was nod, and so, I leaned down and pressed our lips together. He tasted like gum. I giggled quietly at my thoughts and then cupped his cheeks, bringing him closer and feeling him part his lips so I could push my tongue inbetween them, his own flicking against mine. Stiles was a pretty good kisser. I wasn’t complaining. I knew he’d had a couple of pecks here and there, but nothing like this, so, I was proud of him for doing so well. I decided to let him flip me over and grab my hand, because, well, it was hot. I pulled back for a second to breathe and flip my shirt off, revealing my pink t-shirt bra underneath it - it was a push-up, and he did not seem to complain.

He shamelessly looked down, his face showing a mixture of excited and turned on, and I laughed, kissing his cheek, “What?” “You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled, “You are literally one of the most gorgeous human beings I have ever seen in my entire life, I am so lucky..” “You’re just saying that.” “I’m not,” He shook his head, “I’m really not, you’re so beautiful.” I blushed and just smiled up at him, the time seeming to go in slow motion, it was just us in this moment, and I couldn’t be any more content. Stiles was so handsome. And sweet. I realized just how in love with this boy I was, and I thanked god for giving me this moment with him. He leaned down to kiss me again and I happily kissed him back, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling our bodies against each other, a quiet moan emerging from his lips. Fuck, that turned me on. I trailed my free hand down his chest as we made out, stopping at his prominent bulge. I cupped him and palmed him through his jeans, causing him to gasp and buck into my hand more, and then he whined immediately after, ducking his head into my neck, “O - Oh, fuuuck..” “Yeah?” I bit my lip and felt him begin to kiss at my neck, and man, did that feel nice, “Mm.. higher, higher.” “Huh?” He breathed, continuing to kiss. “Go higher - there’s a spot -” And then, out of nowhere, he moved from one spot to another, and found the junction between my neck and jawline, immediately sucking at the skin, which made me squeak and then moan, “Oh - yeah, right there, good.. That’s good..”

This seemed to encourage him, and he got a bit bolder, his palms sliding against the small of my back down to my ass, squeezing it through my leggings. I enjoyed the feeling, and pressed into it, whimpering. He pulled back, and pulled his pants off as quickly as he could, then tugged on my own impatiently. “You have a condom?” I asked him, helping him take my leggings off. Stiles bit his lip and nodded, “I always keep one just in case,” He then pulled out a fucking magnum, a /magnum/, so I internally cursed him for making this situation even more of a turn-on than it already was, “Uh.. how do I..” “I’ll show you, just hold on,” I smiled and gripped him gently through his boxers, leaning down and placing my mouth right at the outline of his cock, sitting him down on the bed, “Mm.” Stiles gasped and bucked up, and I felt light-headed at how fucking sexy he was. He grabbed my hair gently and chewed on his lower lip. “Please.. god..” I decided to give him what he wanted, and I pulled his boxers off, widening my eyes at what I saw. There, in all it’s glory, was Stiles’ 9-inch destroyer. I gulped and licked my hand, wrapping my fingers around him and stroking. He groaned, rolling his hips into my hand, “Oh, jesus.. your hand is so much better than mine..” “What about my mouth?” I teased, giggling and dragging my lips up his shaft, my tongue poking out just barely. “H - Haah! Please - ohmygod, please..” Stiles practically sobbed, and I nodded, licking around the head before taking as much of him as I could. Sucking dick was my fucking forte, but I had never taken someone this big - Stiles was not someone who looked like he had a huge dick, but, here I was, struggling to take half of him in.

He didn’t seem to notice, taking a deep breath in, his hips bucking into my mouth, and I gagged, pulling off, “Jesus, Stiles, so big..” “S - Sorry, I -” “No! No, it’s fine, it’s completely okay,” I assured and went back down, causing him to moan loudly, his legs spreading out, “Mhm?” “Holy fucking shit, oh my god, this is the best feeling I’ve experienced maybe ever,” He rambled, looking down at me, “Y/N, I’m gonna cum, oh my god I’m gonna cum -” Then I pulled off, getting to my knees on the bed and pulling my panties down, “I was just preparing you. I need you to do something for me now.” Stiles looked dumbfounded, pausing for a moment before scrambling up to me, nodding, and I could tell he was trying not to look anywhere other than my eyes, “What do I do?” “Put your fingers..” I whispered, biting my lip and trailing his hand down my body to my heat, “In here.” He was shaking above me, which I noticed, and I rubbed his bicep soothingly, kissing up and down his neck, nipping and sucking, leaving behind hickies in my trail. He sighed as I did so, one of his long fingers sliding into me. I gasped and whined, arching my back, “Oh - just like that, oh my god..” He pumped it in and out of me, making me spread my legs and curl up in his grip a bit. I mewled, and asked him to add another, to which he complied, slipping another one into me. The feeling was like nothing I had ever felt before. Stiles wasn’t half bad at this, y'know? He wasn’t bad at sex, and that was good, because this was his first time. As he fingered me I noticed that he wasn’t being bold. He wasn’t really going for it, if that makes sense - he was just doing it slow and softly, and in another case I would have appreciated it, but right now, I was hot and on the pill, so I wanted to just fuck. “Stiles, Stiles..” I breathed, biting my lip, “Faster - yeah? Go faster.” Stiles took the hint and then slammed another finger into me, his pace quickening as soon as I told him to speed up. I practically screamed and curled my toes, rolling my hips against him. His heartbeat sped up and he added a third finger without me telling him to. I was keening underneath him, flipping us over once more and grabbing the condom, tearing it open with my teeth, “Take your fingers out, I’ll guide you.” Stiles eagerly slipped them out and sucked on his fingers, wiping them on the sheets before leaning down to attack my neck with kisses again while I slipped the condom down onto his erection, lowering myself onto him slowly.

The noise he made almost made me lose it. It was whiny, but chopped - like he couldn’t breathe, and it was full of teenage boyness, and just Stiles in general, and I fucking loved it, I lived for it, and I wanted more of it. “Good..” I whispered, kissing his head and rolling my hips, not moving completely yet. He grabbed my waist and pulled away from my neck, looking up at me with desperation, “You alright, Mischief?” “God - yeah..” He muttered, looking down at our bodies, like he couldn’t believe it, “I’m so fucking good, Y/N, please move..” And like a wolf in heat, he becan to thrust, or at least tried to, it was more like he was shuffling his thighs and rising off of the bed, but not actually doing anything. I laughed awkwardly and stopped him, raising myself up and then moving back down, moaning quietly. Stiles gasped and held me tighter, throwing his head back - and I saw the hickies littering his neck, ones on my own as well, thinking of how that would be something to ask about by everyone tomorrow. “Holy shit,” Stiles grunted and dragged his lower lip across my collarbones, squeezing my ass, “You’re - you feel so good.. so fucking good..” “Yeah?” I smiled and unclipped my bra, throwing it to the side, “Put your hands on them.” I told him, bouncing myself quicker, and harder, my rhythm repetitive and paced. I watched Stiles’ jaw drop, and his hands raised from my waist, grabbing my tits. “Oh, god..” He whispered, thrusting up - in the right way this time - harshly, and I gasped out i pleasure, closing my eyes. This encouraged him, and so, everytime I would come back down, he would move right up again, sliding into me swiftly, with intense need.

Stiles actually left hickies all over my chest, too, like he was marking his territory. It hurt, but it hurt so good, which made it better. I felt my release start to curl up inside of me, in the lower part of my stomach where I felt everything, and I tapped his arm, bouncing myself faster on his cock, “Stiles, I’m so close, holy shit, I’m so fucking close!” “Yeah? S - So am I..” He rushed, pulling me down onto him so that I was laying on top of him, my moans breathy and high pitched. He rubbed up and down my back, slamming into me one last time before stilling and letting out a loud whimper, coming into the condom, and I did the same as soon as he was finished, my body clenching. We sat there, heavily breathing for a good 5 minutes, cuddling, if that makes sense. I got off of him and panted, my knees weak. I slipped my underwear back on quickly, along with my shirt, but not my pants. He slid the condom off of himself and tied it, sighing and throwing it out in a nearby wastebin. “That was.. amazing,” He began, looking at me while I fixed myself up in his mirror, “How are you so good at that?” “I’ve done it a lot,” I smiled and crawled back onto the bed with him, hugging him tightly. “I can’t believe that just happened. I just took your virginity. Oh my god.” “I can’t believe I just lost my virginity to a total babe,” He blurted out, and I don’t think he was thinking, because he widened his eyes and blushed immediately after, “Sorry, I meant -“ “It’s okay. I’m flattered,” I pecked over one of his many hickies, closing my eyes. “Hey - Stiles? Can I tell you something without you totally freaking out?” “Mhm,” He mumbled, pulling me closer to his chest, “What’s up?” “I’m in love with you.” I felt him still underneath me and sighed, immediately feeling regret fill my body. Why did I think this was a good idea? I felt stupid as soon as I - “I’m in love with you, too.” What? “What?” “I am..” He snorted, “God, I didn’t think you felt the same. “I - holy shit, I thought you were in love with Lydia?” I questioned, looking up at him with doe eyes, licking my lips. “I was, but.. then I met you,” He looked back at me, biting his lip, “You changed everything. I think from the moment I looked at you, I knew something special was gonna come out of knowing you, and here we are.” “That was so sweet,” I chuckled and nuzzled him, feeling completely relaxed in his embrace, “We still have to study.” “Of course.” He grabbed his textbook, “So, like I said, are we gonna start with geometry?”

[ticknart]

One Narrow Bed

Marco Diaz had just finished buttoning his striped pajama shirt when his bed squeaked. Darned laser puppies. He'd spent a half hour chasing them and throwing them out of his room. He was sure that he got them all. Although, he admitted to himself, one could have sneaked back in while he was tossing out another.

He psyched himself up, ready to be hit by several lasers. He pushed off and spun on his toe. He lunged forward, wanting to snatch the puppy before it could hide under the bed and he'd have to fight for his room again. He gasped in surprise. As his momentum continued moving him forward, his feet tangled together and he fell, smack, right on his face. There was no puppy on the bed. Instead he saw--

"Janna?" he said into the floor.

It couldn't be her. Could it? No, it couldn't. It must be a misfire from one of Star's spells. Some nutty illusion spell that manifested in his room instead of hers. Or a psychic projections, maybe. With Star, who knew, her aim wasn't always great. Once she'd accidentally hit him with her bumble bee battalion burst. He'd been standing, sort of, in between Star and a horde of monsters when she unleashed the bee army. Those little bugs chased him for what seemed like hours and never once moved to chase a monster. That had been one exciting afternoon and a bit of a painful night.

He heard the window slam shut. He sighed then rolled over onto his back. Above him were two big brown eyes and one gigantic, toothy smile. He forced a grin, but was pretty sure it was more of a grimace.

"Hey, Marco," said Janna Orodonia, an old friend of his from way back and now a current friend of his housemate and best friend, Star Butterfly.

"Hi, Janna."

Marco's brain went into overdrive: What was she doing in his house? Why his room? His room! Why not Star's room? His shirt was on, but had he remembered his pants? He hoped his pants were on. Was her being in his room at night appropriate? Did Star invite Janna over? Or did Janna invite Janna over? Was this another one of those times where Janna wanted to make him frustrated and flustered? He wouldn't give her that satisfaction? Why was his face warm and flush? Hadn't Janna been in his room lots of times? Yes, but that was during the day. With his door wide open. To keep his parents happy. His parents! What would they do if they found her in here? Would they ever trust him again? Would they send Star away? If Star was gone, would the monsters stop attacking? Would she take the puppies with her or would he be stuck caring for them forever? With that sort of responsibility, could he still go to college? Was fast food his only option if he didn't go to college? Could Jackie love a man who had no prospects, no future? Could anyone? Could he? Would he be a drain on society?! What would his life become?!

"Stop it," said Janna, offering her hand.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Worrying," she said, reaching lower.

He took her hand and she helped him up.

"I am not worrying."

"Dude, you were born worrying."

"Was not."

She cocked her head and simply looked at him.

After a moment, he looked away from her and said, "I was...  over thinking. Not worrying."

She pulled the chair out from his desk and sat down."How far'd you get?" she asked.

"Huh?" he said, sitting on his bed across from her.

"Remember when we were little? You'd start by worrying about the class hamster. 'Does it really like the food pellets and if it doesn't how can we know?' Or something like that. Then you'd go step it up and eventually work your way to your future and worry about the day gerbils got smart and start their plan for world domination. How far'd you get?" she asked again.

Did he remember? Of course he remembered. Janna and Marco had been best friends from the moment they met -- when Janna decided that he was going to be her friend -- until middle school. She was someone who pulled him out of his shell and forced him into new experiences. (A lot like Star did now, without the magic or monsters or psychotic princess academies.) She also helped him work through his anxieties, mostly by telling him he was crazy and that the "future'll be what the future'll be." He didn't fully understand what she got from him until he was much older and they'd grown apart: stability and unconditional love.

"I was homeless," he said, smiling weakly, "dragging around the laser dogs, who scared away anyone who tried to help us. Slowly dying from exposure. Expecting to be the dogs' next, and maybe their final, meal."

"Wow," said Janna, cringing, "you went from zero to caa-razy really fast." She waited for a bit before asking, "What started it?"

"Why are you here?!" asked Marco, too loudly to be polite. "I mean, it's after" -- he looked at the clock next to the head of his bed -- "nine o'clock. Shouldn't you be in your house, in your bedroom, getting ready to sleep?"

"Yeah, I gue--"

"But here you are, in my room, wearing that too small jacket and that beany I gave you, as a gift, when my parents took us to the snow. Forever ago."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down. "I'm sorry. I just...  I don't understand. Why are you here, Janna?"

When she didn't answer, he opened his eyes. She wasn't smiling. There was no mischievous glint to her eyes. She looked tired and... sad? He hadn't seen her like this for a long time. She'd been happy-go-lucky, trickster Janna for so long. She let everything roll off her back. She didn't care what other's thought. She was Janna!, with and exclamation mark, and no one could do anything about it. He'd forgotten that she is as human as he is.

She looked at him, sighed, and said, "I need a place to crash, Marco. For tonight."

"Sure," said Marco, without a single contrary thought. "Let's just get you across the hall into Star's room." He knew his parents would be cool with Janna sleeping over with Star even if they weren't asked.

"Thanks, but, nah, I'd rather sleep here."

He didn't think his parents would be cool about that. And he didn't know if he was cool with it either. Just because all those nighttime shows that happened to take place at a highschool showed that this kind of a moment was every boy’s dream at all times, didn't mean it was true. Not that Marco would ever... No. NO! He wasn't ready. He knew he wasn't ready. But if she wanted to go really slo-- NO! His imagination was a dangerous thing and he didn't need it to interfere with his thoughts. Especially with his friend in the room. Especially in his pajama pants. This wasn't a good idea.

"I don't think that's a good idea?" he asked, feeling like an idiot for talking that way. He quickly corrected himself, "It's not a good idea." Firm and to the point.

"Why?"

"W-well," he stuttered, "it's because, uh, you’re a boy and I'm a gi--" What did he just say? "No, it's because I'm a gir--" GAH! "Darn-it, you know what I'm trying to say."

"Yeah, but we used to do it all the time."

This was true. Between the ages of six and eleven, Janna practically lived at his house. Almost every afternoon she'd walk home with him and they'd play and do homework until she left, sometimes that was after dinner, sometimes not. On weekends She'd spend the night and they'd build blanket forts to sleep in, or drag out his parents' old sleeping bags to the back yard, or simply stay up late in his room reading stories to each other. One of his happiest memories was a whole Saturday where they barely said anything. They just played with his Legos. It's not often you could be so quiet with someone and feel so close to them. So happy with them. When he got older, Marco was surprised that his parents let her spend so much time with him. At the time, though, he didn't care. His best friend in the world practically lived with him. It was almost like having a really cool sister. But she wasn't his sister.

"We were little kids!"

"So?"

"So!" Marco said, throwing his arms into the air.

"Yeah. So?"

"So, I think the only difference between us that I recognized was that you weren't me."

She smirked and said, "You knew some other things were different about us when we traded clothes."

He felt himself blush and her smile grew wider. She was a slick one. Always an answer that made him feel awkward so he couldn't think clearly.

"Maybe," he said, choosing his next words carefully, "but to me it was more like the difference between you having black hair and me having brown hair. It was just one more thing that made you, you."

"You know better now, though. You have the internet."

"Of course I ha--" The back of his neck flushed and his faced burned hotter. She had no way of knowing anything. He was very safe on his phone. He cleared his browser history. She was just trying to fluster him again. Like always. And if he didn't give in she'd spend who knows how long making him more and more uncomfortable.

He asked, "Will your parents be okay with this?"

"Pffft. They'll be fine. You know my parents."

Except, he didn't know her parents. He wasn't sure he'd ever met them. He could remember visiting Janna's house once when they were nine, maybe ten, and he had been a little scared the whole stay.

Once upon a time, her house had been like every other house in the neighborhood, but at some point someone had given up taking care of it. A low chain-link fence with holes divided the yard from the sidewalk. Wires stuck out into the sidewalk, waiting to catch on someone’s clothes, or scratch an arm or leg. Old, rusting pieces of bikes and lawnmowers and who-knows-what were scattered on the patchy lawn. The driveway had four beat-up cars parked in it. Marco couldn't tell by looking at them which ones ran and which didn't, if any of them ran at all. The paint that caught the most sun had faded and was peeling. The rest was flaking off the house. Everywhere he looked at her house made him uncomfortable and a little sad.

He felt even worse when saw the inside. The entry was a mess of dried mud and random things that had been dragged in from outside. The walls had random holes and were lined with stuff: used paper plates, old shoes that were falling apart, chewed up bones, broken toys, and lots of things Marco couldn't or didn't want to identify. There were paths down the center of halls, but he had an eerie feeling that something could jump out of the stuff at any moment and grab him.

Older and younger kids darted around Janna and Marco as they walked. Too many too close to the same age to all be Janna's brothers and sisters. Cousins, maybe? Marco didn't ask. Since they first arrived at the house, Janna had a stiff smile on her face every time she looked at him. He thought that she must be as uncomfortable with him there as he was at being there. He wanted to tell her it was okay, but it wasn't.

It wasn't where someone like Janna should live and he knew it. She deserved to live in a place like his home, only better. She deserved a tree house and swimming pool. She deserved clean floors and a lawn. She deserved a place that made her feel warm and safe like she made him feel. This was not that place.

Her house, which was surprisingly big, seemed to wind back on itself. Was she giving him a tour, or was it like Ikea and they had to follow a path that would eventually lead them back to the front of the house? At one point they stopped at an open door. There was an old woman sitting in the dark on a lounge chair, watching TV, and drinking a beer. The air coming out of the room smelled stale, wet, and thick. The sounds from the television were of a language he couldn't recognize. Janna went in to speak with the old women. They whispered, so all Marco heard were pieces of sound. Eventually, Janna kissed the old woman on the cheek and walked out the door. She had that same stiff smile as she moved past him.

She stopped in a part of a hall where a space had been marked off by a curtain. The curtain was lit up from behind. Small beams of sunlight came through holes in the curtain and spread over the dirty carpet. Janna took a deep breath and pulled him behind the curtain.

For a moment, Marco was blinded. He blinked away the light and got his first look at something in this house that was Janna's. More that, it was Janna. Clothes were scattered across the carpet, which didn't look as grungy as the rest of the house. The tiny desk had a pile of library books; he immediately recognized several from the Plots to Petrify series, her current literary love. Above the desk were drawings of werewolves and skeletons and clowns all looking horrible. (Skeletons and clowns were always smiling, how could they be so scary?) Her bed sat on a series of drawers, the kind his parents used for crafts. The sea-foam green comforter was rumpled, probably the same as it was since she left for school. For the first time since they approached the house, Marco felt comfortable.

He smiled a genuine smile. Janna smiled, too. This one actually reached her eyes.

Marco sat on her bed and Janna at her desk. They did their homework together and talked about the most recent episodes of Quaking Quakers to the noise of the other kids running around the halls and out in the back yard. But they hardly heard anything except each other.

When the sun started setting and they could hear other voices, older voices, Janna led him out of the house. They walked in a more direct route to the door. She walked him to the nearest bus stop and waited with him. As the bus pulled up, she looked at her feet and quietly thanked him for coming. His instinct was to say that it was his pleasure, but it wouldn’t come out. He climbed on the bus with a simple your welcome and see you at school tomorrow.

The bus ride home was short, but it was also worlds away.

"You want some PJs to wear?" Marco asked, shaking off the memory. "I can get you some PJs. They're in the dresser."

"I'll get 'em," Janna said.

She darted around him and rooted through the drawers. His drawers. His shirts. His pants. His socks. His underwear!

Why did he get so embarrassed over underwear? Most of them were in good condition. No holes where holes weren't supposed to be. Besides, she knew he wore underwear, just like she wore underwear... probably.

Marco shook that thought out of his head.

"I think," said Janna, "I'll wear these shiny shorts and this shirt."

She held the clothes close to her chest, turned around, and bumped the open drawer closed with her hip. She waggled her hand at him and, with her nose up in the air, said, "Now be a gen-teal man and face away from me." Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

Marco turned around.

"Thank you. One wouldn't want one to get any inappropriate ideas, would one?"

"Too late for that," he muttered

"Did you say something?" she asked, still sounding snooty.

"I said," said Marco, raising his voice so she could hear him, "that it's too late for that. For ideas, I mean."

She didn't answer and this unnerved him. She always had a quick response for everyone. Nothing seemed to catch her off-guard. She was either always prepared or just too cool to care. He hadn't experienced this much silence around Janna since they were little kids. And he got her. He flustered her. He did to her what she always does to him.

Why did he feel so bad about it?

"You still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice muffled, "I'm here."

"I-- I shou-- I wanted to--," he stuttered.

"Don't worry about it."

"But I didn't want to make you feel--."

"You didn't. It's kind of flattering. I never thought that you..." Her voice drifted off.

"Hey, I'm not a eunuch."

"Yeah, but you’re, you know, Marco."

He sighed, "The 'safe kid.'"

"That's not what I mean. I've known you almost all my life. You're like my brother. Except, better than my actual brothers.”

He smiled.

"You can turn around now."

There she stood, her clothes bunched together in a messy pile at her feet. He watched the beany land and stared at the pile and tried not to think anything.

"Marco?"

He slowly -- too slowly? -- raised his eyes. He saw her legs every day because she wore skirts, but something seemed different. Just a little bit of green shorts showed under the gray shirt, which was too big for her. His stomach and heart lurched a little. His cheeks flushed. He didn't feel ready for any of the thoughts in his head, but they were there. His eyes continued their journey up. That's when he saw which shirt she had picked.

And it was the photo shirt. The one he bought at KarateKon. The one that says "I Kissed a Ninja." The one with the picture of him kissing a ninja. His mind went blank. His cheeks burned.

"Santa Maria," he whispered, "me da la fuerza para sobrevivir esta prueba."

It was times like these that he wished he were more like Star. She could handle anything. Marco could handle many things -- including, but not limited to, monster attacks, flying horse heads, hungry saber-toothed cats, pirates with planks, Tom -- but not everything. One of the big things he couldn't handle was when he confirmed to the rest of the multi-verse just how uncool he really was. When it happened, it hurt. Wounded him deeply. He got embarrassed, flush, and angry with himself and everything he thought everyone was thinking. When it was over and he was alone, he got embarrassed and angry again. This time at himself because he knew -- HE KNEW! -- that it shouldn't matter to him. But it did matter.

At home alone, or with Star, it was so easy to just be Marco Diaz. To watch cheesy movies. To work on his line of Princess Marco dolls. To dance in his room only wearing underwear. It was all fun and made him feel good. And that was all that mattered.

But out in the real world, fun isn't what mattered. Being like everyone else mattered. It mattered so much to be thought to be like everyone else because when you’re like everyone else, everyone else might like you or at least leave you alone.

His stomach hurt. Thoughts like these always made it hurt. Only time and distraction were the cures.

"Did you really kiss a ninja?" Janna asked, pulling the shirt out so she could see the picture better.

"Yeah. Why?"

"That is so cool."

"Really?"

"Totally!" She smiled at him.

He didn't understand how a shirt that had a picture of him kissing a ninja under the words saying that he kissed a ninja could ever be considered cool. And, although he still felt embarrassed, it didn't feel the same. It felt, warmer? Safer? Comfortable? Was that a thing? A comfortable embarrassment?

He smiled back.

"There's an extra pillow under the bed," he said. "I'll go get you a sleeping bag."

Janna's face flushed, "I thought we could..." She looked at the bed.

"Sure," he said, not wanting to argue. "Just grab the pillow and turn off the light, please."

Marco went to his bed and threw back the covers. He scooted as far as he could in a twin bed to make sure she had enough room to be comfortable. As he settled into his bed, the overhead light turned off.

"Hey!" he said, as a pillow hit him in the face.

Janna laughed as she hopped into bed.

He handed her the pillow and pulled the covers over them. She adjusted her body, settling herself into the bed. With both under the covers, on their backs, staring at the ceiling, he reached out and turned out the light on his night stand. A dim light from the neighbor's back yard came though his window. Just enough that he could make out the beams in the ceiling.  

He listened to her breath for a minute then asked, "Janna, why are you here tonight?"

There was an eternity of silence before she said, "Do you remember when I used to sleep over and there were some nights when I couldn't fall asleep and you'd invite me to sleep next to you?"

He remembered. There were nights where her breathing was ragged. Sometimes there was even quiet sobbing. On those nights he would get out of bed, take her hand, and bring him back to bed with him, without saying a word. He'd listen to her uneven breath grow smoother, until it became regular and she was asleep. The whole time, he held her hand.

"Yeah," he said.

"I..." her voice cracked. She cleared her throat.

The beams in the ceiling become blurry as Marco’s eyes grew watery. He slid his hand under the covers and took hers in his.

[ficdirectory]

Blink (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 53

CHAPTER 53

 Jesus sleeps hard and doesn’t dream, but he’s still up early.  It’s after 6:00, though, so that’s a good sign that he’s not feeling as wound up.  The first thing he does is check out his wrist.  For once, it’s not to obsess about the fresh bandaids Mom put on last night coming loose.  Even though his skin is still kind of crawling because it always is now, Jesus is focused on the bracelet from Mama.

He snaps a picture of it.  Sends it to Pearl with the message:

 Morning. Mama got this for me.  Isn’t it cool?

 His phone chimes back with a text right away:

 Pearl:

I love that!  And I love that you love it.  How’s the coping?  

 Jesus calls her, because it’s quicker than texting.  He likes being able to see her face.  “It’s going okay,” he admits, once he can see her.  “My skin’s still, like, doing the thing.  It kinda crawls all the time and makes me feel like...you know?  But I’m not.  I have your scarf on.  And the bracelet.  And you.”

 “I think you’re doing amazing.  I’m really proud of you.”

 “Thanks,” Jesus says, ducking his head.  “How are you?”

 “Just fine.  Nothing new.  Just hanging out with Gracie.  She’s trying to convince me to go to the post office today because I have some stuff to drop off for work, but I don’t want to.”

 “Not as exciting as cupcakes?” Jesus guesses.

 “Well, let’s be honest...I mean, a dog sweater just doesn’t compare…”  There’s a pause and then:  “So, did your Porch Time go okay?  With Mariana and your moms?”

 “Yeah.  Mama explained that I just got too general when I said I was gonna be specific.  That’s easy to fix, right?  And she said it doesn’t mean I’m dumb.  So that’s good, I guess.”

“Do you believe her?” Pearl asks quietly.

 “Yeah, mostly, I think.  You know how I don’t have a swing or anything like that?  Well, we do have this huge chair.  Like, it could fit sixteen Frankies in it.  So last night - don’t laugh - but Mama and I hung out there.  Talked.”

 “Jesus, I think that’s great.  I would never laugh at you.  Did it help?”

 “Yeah.  It did.  But I always get kinda nervous ‘cause that happens at night and then it’s a new day, and it always feels like everything from before gets erased.  Like, I feel shaky again on whether Mama wants me around.  Maybe she thinks I am dumb a little?  I don’t know.  Like what if everything’s different now?”

 “In super hell…” Pearl starts.  “Was He very moody?”

 “Yeah, like all the time.  I never knew what He was gonna be like…  Mad or really mad.  But it was the scariest when he was nice, actually.”

 “So, it makes sense that you’d feel somewhat off balance after feeling so safe.  Because you’re not used to being able to maintain the feeling.”

 “That’s so accurate,” Jesus breathes, impressed.  

 Down the hall, Callie’s alarm starts singing the most irritating song about how it’s a beautiful day.  And Jesus decides to hang up with Pearl for now.  “But keep me updated.”

 “Same,” Pearl says.

 Jesus walks out of his room and down the hall to Moms’ bedroom door where he just kinda hangs out in the hall.  He wants to talk to Mama, but he isn’t sure if she’s up yet, and the idea of knocking on their bedroom door makes his heart rate speed way up.

 “Hey.  Need something?” Brandon asks.  “I’m less mad at Jude, by the way.”  He’s in a tee shirt and flannel pants.  His hair’s messy.

 “I just wanted to talk to Mama, but I wasn’t sure if she’s up…” he hedges.

 “Oh.  Here,” Brandon steps up and knocks on their door.  “Jesus is out here.  He wants to know if Mama’s awake.”

 “She is now…” Mom says.  “Thank you, B.”

 “No problem.”

 “Dude.  Now is she mad I woke her up?” Jesus asks, worried.

 “I doubt it.  But I can hang out here.  ‘Til you know for sure.  I’m just waiting for Callie to get out of the bathroom.”

 Jesus usually wouldn’t take Brandon up on anything resembling backup, but he’s nervous.  It’s early morning and he still feels kinda unsure about how Mama will even feel about him now.  He nods.  In a minute or so, Mama opens the door.  She’s in a robe.

 “Morning, guys.  What’s up, Jesus?”

 He swallows.  Tries to talk, but all his words are gone.  Can’t even look up from the floor.

 Jesus imagines Mama and Brandon making eye contact.  Lots of raised eyebrows.  

 Brandon steps closer to Jesus but doesn’t touch him:  “Want me to ask her?”

 “Yeah…” he whispers.

 “He was just hanging out here because he wanted to talk to you, but now he’s nervous you might be mad because he woke you up.  Are you mad he woke you up?” Brandon asks, like he knows Mama will answer and he’s not even worried at all.

 “Jesus, I’m not mad at all.  I’m so glad to see you this morning,” Mama’s voice sounds warm.  The same as it did last night.

 He glances up. “You aren’t?  I mean, you are?”

 “Come downstairs with me, bud.  I’d love to talk to you.”

 Jesus starts out lagging behind, but Mama slows her pace so they’re walking next to each other.  It helps.  They go downstairs, and Mama grabs a blueberry muffin and a bottle of water.  They head out to the porch.

 It’s right where Jesus wants to be.  He’s feeling a bit too raw for the chair first thing in the morning, especially when both are still in pajamas.

 She hands him the food as soon as they’re settled.  “That’s yours.  Just so you know it’s available.”

 Jesus nods.

 “You can talk to me, bud,” Mama encourages. “I love hearing from you.  And I really loved hanging out with you last night in the chair together.”

 “Really?”

 “Really.”

 “Me, too,” he admits.  It’s easier to talk knowing that.  “So is it...like...okay if I have questions?  Even if they’re super obvious?”

 “Absolutely.  Can I answer anything for you right now?” she asks.

 “Just...I thought you might realize overnight that I was dumb a little bit…” he admits.  “And what if you changed your mind and you don’t want me?”

 “I can see you’re feeling nervous, and I want to help.  Do you see your new bracelet?” she asks, and Jesus is so relieved Mama isn’t asking him to look at her.

 “Yeah.”

 “What does it say?”

 “It says ‘I love you to the moon and back,’” he quotes, by memory.

 “Right.  I love you.  Without limits.  I respect you.  I don’t think you’re dumb.  Not even a little bit.”

 “But I messed up the essay.  I messed up myself.  I can’t get feedback.  I can’t always understand what you mean when you say things.  That is kinda dumb, isn’t it?”  Jesus looks at Mama, checking for any hint of acknowledgement.  But all he sees is that she’s listening to him.

 “You wrote a very good essay, Jesus.  When I read it, I learned new things about you.  Everything was spelled correctly.  You punctuated everything correctly.  You explained to me last night why you hurt yourself.  It was because you were afraid you would be in trouble with me and get hurt because He used to hurt you over your schoolwork.  Right?  You were trying to cope with what you felt was an inevitability.  Given what you’ve gone through?  That makes complete sense.”

 “Sometimes, I think it’s stupid. Like, I’m obviously not There anymore, so I shouldn’t do what worked There.  It’s not right to do it.  I know that,” Jesus presses, feeling guilty.

 Mama’s quiet for a minute.  Then she says, “When I was growing up, I lived with somebody who made me feel very unsafe.”

 Jesus’s eyebrows furrow.

 “It’s not the same thing as what you experienced.  Not even close.  But, this person used to do things on purpose to make me sad or scared.  Can I answer something for you?” she asks, probably noticing his expression.

 “Is it Nate?” Jesus asks, thinking of the uncle they never see.  And the big thing there was once when Grams and Grandpa Adams came to visit and Nate came too.  Jesus wasn’t there in the room for it.  He and Mariana hung out in his room, but Jesus could hear it.

 “Yes.  And whenever Nate would treat me badly, all these words would just pour out of me.  I would get so upset, and I’d decide I was going to make him listen to me.  But he said I was too loud and I needed to be quiet and no one would believe me anyway.”

 Jesus is so shocked.  It’s a lot of the same stuff He said.  “So, what happened?”

 “When things happened after that…  When Nate did things to hurt my feelings...or my mom...I got quiet.  I stopped talking.  I found it very hard to speak up for myself, because I thought he was right.  No one would listen to me.  A couple years ago, I realized, I was still doing it.  Mom did something - not intentionally - but it hurt my feelings and I couldn’t talk about it.  Literally no words would come out.  I started getting headaches and upset stomach, and finally, I was in counseling one day and it all came out.”

 Jesus scoots a little closer to Mama.  He so gets that feeling.

 “I had to learn that it was okay to speak up if someone hurt me.  That coping mechanism of shutting down and being quiet?  It worked when I was seven.  It made sense then.  But as an adult, I needed to learn a new way that worked.  Because being quiet wasn’t helping.  It was actually harming me.”

 Jesus takes it in, what Mama’s saying.  “That’s maybe what I’m trying to do now…”

 “Yes, I agree.  And it takes time.  It’s not easy.  I see how hard you’re working.  I’m paying attention to what you’re saying.  It matters to me.  And I’m going to keep doing anything I can to help you learn that new way for yourself.”

 “Was it hard for you?  Do you still shut down sometimes?”

 “I do, sometimes.  It was hard.  It is still.  But all we can do in those moments is think about how we can treat ourselves better next time.  Do you feel safe right now?”

 “Mm-hmm.  It helps to not feel like I’m the only one who does things...who had hard things happen…”

 “You’re not, bud.  Not at all.  I don’t want you to feel alone.”

 “Mama?”

 “Hmm?”

 “I’m really sorry Nate hurt you.”

 “Thank you, Jesus.  That’s so kind of you to say.  And I’m so sorry He hurt you.  And made you doubt what a caring, compassionate, honest, smart, amazing person you are.”

 Jesus is trying really hard to believe what Mama’s saying.  To take it in.  It’s kinda easier, knowing they’re alike, but it’s still hard.

 “Can you help me learn to talk first instead of hurting?” he asks, holding his breath, because it feels like his whole world hinges on her answer to this question.

 “I can.  I would love that.  I want you to know that you can always ask questions if you have them.”

 “Are there dumb ones?” Jesus checks.

 “There are no dumb ones at all.  Only honest ones.”

 “Is there a limit on how many or how often I can ask the same question?”

 “No limits at all.  I want to hear your questions.  I want to give you answers to what you’re wondering, so you can feel safe.”

 “I always kinda think...like...automatic.  That’s part of Level 3.  If something happens?  I think ‘Oh, that makes sense because He said it, too.’  Or I just always fit stuff into that context right away.  That’s why I think I already know and I don’t have questions.”

 “If you find yourself comparing something we’re doing to something you experienced There, and thinking that it makes sense because of something He did to you or said to you?  I want you to come to me.  Text me an emoji.  Those are the times you need to be able to ask for clarification, right?”

 “Yeah, but I always do it too late…”

 “Can I ask you something strange?”

 “Yes,” he nods.

 “Do you know how Dr. H, pauses us in the office sometimes?  Do you think you could do that with your automatic thoughts?  Or any of the levels?  Try to pause your thoughts if they’re going toward Him in any way, and come find me?”

 “That’s the problem,” Jesus admits quietly.  “I think I need you to find me…”

 “I know things have been beyond tough for you lately.  I know you’re always trying your very best.  I want you to know that I will always find you.  I might make a pest of myself checking in with you, but I will find you.  Okay?  I promise.  I’m going to do my best to make sure you always know you’re here with me, and safe.”

 “Okay.  Should we go in?” he asks, and they stand up.  “You said a lot of nice things to me last night and today.  I just want you to know that I really appreciate it.”

 “They’re not just nice things, Jesus, they’re true things,” Mama emphasizes softly as they walk to the door.

 “Well, thanks for all the true things then,” he tries again, a small smile touching his lips.

[sc87confessions]

Leave It Like This For Now

You and Sid got home pretty late from the party, you ended up crashin at your place since you’d have to get up early to decorate the house for your guys party. It was more of a casual party yet you guys were gonna clean up a bit as well. When you woke up Sid was sound asleep beside you, you checked your phone to see that it was 10am, you quietly got up and went to shower. When you got out, Sid was still asleep so you went downstairs to start decoratin the place. Jake was nowhere to be found so you assumed he was sleepin too. You went straight into the kitchen to feed your dog and then to work on some pastries that you were makin, once you popped them in the oven, you made yourself a protein shake and headed on to the garage to get everythin out. You then turned on the radio to a low volume but loud enough for you to hear across the livin room. Little by little but quickly everythin inside the house was set up. You then headed on to the backyard where everythin needed a bit more decoration, you definitely were lookin forward to it as you enjoyed doin these kinds of things. You set up the patio to a more open section and placed more tables, some for sittin and the others to put food on. You were workin on movin the string lights around and placin decorations on the patio roof and across the lawn. You were up on the ladder when you heard Sid come outside. “Well good mornin sunshine” you teased “How in the world do you have everything set up so fast?” he asked shockingly as he looked around at the patio. “I already had a plan in mind so that helps, want some breakfast?” “I can make it myself so you can finish what you were doing, thank you though” “Sidney, I’m already done, plus I have to get the pastries out of the oven” you said as you saw that it had been time to take them out. You guys headed inside as Sid was amazed by all the stuff you had done in a small amount of time. “It smells amazing in here honey” Sid said as he smelled food that came out of the kitchen. You cooked his breakfast as you worked on the frostin for the pastries and worked on makin apple pie as well. Once you served Sid his plate, you continued baking around the kitchen and then doin the dishes. “You really are Wonder Woman” Sid said with his mouth full of food, “this is so fuckin delicious” “Thanks Sidney” you beamed ​​​ As Sid showered you were finishin tidyin up the place when Jake arrived home. You thought this whole time that he was in his room. “Well I thought I’d never see you again” you joked at Jake “Haha did you get lucky with Sid though?” “Are you kiddin me? We knocked out cold as soon as we got home, PLUS looks like I’m the one that had to do all the settin up around here” you said “I owe you BIG time (Y/N)” he said as he gave you a hug “You sure do, however I’m glad Leila’s not here so we can talk about how you’re goin to ask her” you said excitingly You motioned Jake to sit on the chair next to Sid so you guys can catch up on what the plan will be for Jake proposin. You and Jake went back and forth on some ideas, how not to look suspicious and where exactly he should ask her in the backyard to get the best pictures, even what time would be best to ask her. Sid would just stare and nod here and there as he enjoyed his breakfast. “My Jake, I know however you decide to do it, Leila’s goin to love this surprise” you said as you couldn’t believe today was the day your best friend life was goin to change for better, “shoot you can propose to her at Starbucks and she’ll still say yes” you joked “That’s if she says yes (Y/N)” Jake said nervously “No no no, Jake you’re sellin yourself short, any girl would be lucky to have you in their life, Leila was smart enough to realize that and I know that she’s a great girl too” you encouraged him “Plus, please don’t lose my invitation to the weddin, I really want to stuff my face with food” “So that’s why you want to go then?” he asked as he put his hand to his mouth dramatically “Well yea, the food should be delicious” you chuckled “(Y/N), you know you’re gonna be my ‘best man’ right?” he asked more seriously “Anythin you want, I’ll be there for you Jake” you replied “So earth to Sid, do you have any ideas on how I can pop the question?” Jake asked “Hmmmm I don’t know to be honest, I think something simple but personal would be best” he said slowly, “plus how would I know, I’m not thinking about doing that anytime soon or at all” he said but then looked at you in regret What the hell does that mean? “Anyways, Jake, we should come up with a code word to know when you’re goin to do it” you continued as if nothin happened “Let’s see…..cupcakes?” “Are there more cupcakes?” you asked “That’s perfect” ​​​ As Sid showered, you were doin your makeup, you went for a natural look but with more sophistication as you wanted to look better than causal for the proposal. You wore a sundress that had the long tail on the back but was short in the front, you went for loose waves for you hair. Jake got ready and then went out to pick up Leila, when it started gettin around the evenin time, people started comin by, whether it was Sid’s friends, family, or your friends from work. You were busy makin everyone feel at home but somehow what Sid had said stuck in the back of your mind what did he mean by he wasn’t thinkin about proposin anytime soon or at all. Is he even takin me seriously then or is he just goin to use me for fun Everyone seemed to be havin a great time as the settin was more relaxin than yesterday’s event. You were drinkin beer as you were havin a nice conversation with you and your friends. “I’ve never seen these many cops since like the parade a few years ago” Phil said to Sid “Right, and we’re surrounded by a bunch right now, eh” “What’s up with you and (Y/N)?, you guys seem a bit off” Sid explained to what he said durin breakfast which cause Phil to smack him in the back of the head “Dude, she’s perfect for you, she’s badass, shit most of the guys from the NHL that have met her kept saying how they’d do anything for her” Phil said, “why would you say that? Is that how you feel, are you not taking her seriously?” “No I am, I AM, I’m scared, I’m scared she’s going to think I’M not good enough” he confessed “If she didn’t think you were, I’m pretty sure she’d be gone by now” Phil said “(Y/N), are there more cupcakes?!!” Jake yelled across the backyard “Let me check” you said as you went inside the house Jake somehow brought Leila to the back right in the center of everyone, the view of the city was behind your guys house so they looked perfect in that spot. You headed out towards the back with a cake that you had made in your hand. “Jake, darlin’ I didn’t find any cupcakes but I made this too, hey Leila look!” you said loud enough to get everyone’s attention. On the cake, you had written Leila, will you marry me? As soon as Leila read it, her eyes widened in shock and she turned around to look at Jake. Jake got down on one knee, “Leila, many people say that love at first sight doesn’t exist but darlin’ the moment I saw you at that Starbucks I knew that I had to get to know you, yes it took me forever and yes someone else had to make the first move for me to courage up to ask you” he said as he side-eyed you, “I will forever be grateful to have you in my life, I know it hasn’t been long enough, but Leila, you are it for me, I want to be the man that makes eveythin just a bit more better for you, I want to grow old with you and see what the future holds for us, Leila I love you, will you marry me?” he said as he cried “Are you kidding me, of COURSE!!” Leila replied as she jumped up and down in excitement “Here Leila now you’ll really need these ahhaha” you said as you handed her some handcuffs “That wasn’t part of the plan!” Jake said crackin up “Hey, there’s still girl code my friend” you said laughin Everyone else cried and laughed and then congratulated the newly engaged couple You were happy to see everyone havin an amazin time again, especially because you had been the one in charge of everythin. You were happy to see everyone comin by to see one another and supportin Jake. ​​​ As everyone said their goodbyes and more congrats you started cleanin up around in the backyard. “Heyyy” Sid said in a sigh “What’s up Cros?” you said as you picked up the tables “I feel like we didn’t hangout today” he said “Well I was in charge of everythin so yeah we didn’t” Sid helped you move the tables back into the garage “I’m sorry about what I said earlier” he said “Look you said it for a reason, I’m not mad but I am a bit confused, if you’re not takin me serious then now’s the time to let me know” you said as you crossed your arms “No I AM taking you seriously, I don’t know why I said that” “Is it because we haven’t had sex Sidney?” “No no, definitely not, I’m not pressuring you into that, you know that” “Well I’m just makin sure, you said what you said and whatever you meant by it you need to let me know soon” you said as you continued puttin things away, “look I don’t want to argue, I’m exhausted and I have work tomorrow so let’s just leave it like this for now” you said.​​