#And you know what fair I stole lunch money for like a full year
Note
YOOOO NEW EMILES JUST DROPPED!! Okay okay, so what are the individual ships for your new Pokemon s/is??? And also what are their origins? Is it like a same backstory, different timelines kinda deal or completely different backstories??
Thankyou Devin for being excited for the New Mes I create like monthly kjgksjgk Always a joy.
All 3 of these S/Is are completly separate persons that I had to do some MAJOR fanagling of story to keep from Interacting because I agree with you, writing yourself interacting with yourself is. Weird. And hard. fdkgjfdkj
The main Story S/I doesn't have a major romantic ship, he's more about the Platonics with Arven, Penny, Nemona, and Team Star. Though I do have a crush on my Armarouge Charlos, so I imagine post story they eventually get together.
My Teacher's Pet S/I was originally a NSFW X Reader I'd drafted up for a School Staff polycule concept I had that... Just kind of developed into more of an S/I as I made myself fall in love with the teachers... I could never write NSFW fic anyway so it's better this way in my opinion.
The DLC S/I is self shipped with Kieran and eventually Drayton and I talk about his backstory Here (No DLC spoilers)
I actually made my Main Story Self Insert LAST year around this same time, that post can be found Here, and nothing major has really changed about him I don't think, but I like his story so I'll tell it again in further detail under the cut!
Emile is the grandson of Director Clavell, and as a child spent all his time either in the lighthouse lab watching his grandfather and Sada work, or scrounging around outside with his brother (not biologically) Arven for any item they could sell for change.
Emile's first Pokemon was a wandering Gimmighoul he had befriended on top of the lighthouse. He was determined to give his Pokemon a chest full of treasure he could be proud of, and put a lot of work into collecting all sorts of coins for his Gimmighoul. He even hand made him a chest to put it all in!
Eventually, Sada and Clavell's research took them into the Great Crater, which meant Emile and Arven weren't allowed to visit them as often. To keep the two out of trouble (following them into the crater unsupervised), the two were enrolled in Naranja Academy, and everything was fine.. for a while.
Emile was Arven's rock when the older realized his mom cared more about her research than him, when he noticed Clavell came out of the crater to visit Emile much more often than his mom did for him, when they went into the crater and it was only Clavell there to greet them, to escort them lower, to take a break from work to make sure the strong Pokemon in the crater didn't hurt them.
This made Emile a lot more protective over Arven. So when he got called into the Director's Office and scolded for how long his hair was by the new Student Council President, Emile didn't hesitate to retaliate.
At first, he was just petty. He grew his hair longer, dyed it bright pinks and oranges and blues, switching it up every day. He'd step on the back of Giacomo's shoes at he walked to class, or shoulder check him just hard enough to make him drop his books. He didn't hurt him physically, just defied him and pushed him around a bit.
Then other students got involved. Suddenly there was a whole group of guys around Emile with long deep purple hair and their uniform shirts unbuttoned. When he shoved Giacomo, someone else was there to shove him the other way, passing him around like a game of catch.
Anyone who stood up for Giacomo became a target, tripped in the halls, missing gym clothes, spilled lunches, and eventually.. stolen money.
That pompous president deserved it anyway, Emile had convinced himself as he filled his Gimmighoul chest with more coins than he ever could have gotten on his own. He'd convinced himself he was in the right, that that guy's rules were unfair. He didn't even notice when Arven stopped coming to school, or the looks his Gimmighoul gave him sat upon a throne of thievery
On the day of operation star, Emile's Gimmighoul left him, taking the first coin Emile had even given him, and vanishing overnight. Emile had no Pokemon to battle back against Team Star with. He was one of the first to retreat.
For a full year Emile didn't go back to school. He didn't talk to Arven. He didn't visit his grandfather. He just laid in his room with an empty Gimmighoul chest...
Until Clavell became the new Director.
He urged Emile to come back to school, even going so far as to get him a new Pokemon Partner, a noble loyal knight who wouldn't leave him. Charlos, the Charcadet.
Against his better judgement Emile returned to school with the plan to go as under the radar as possible, and stay out of the way of all the kids he's wronged.. Until Charlos dragged him into Operation Starfall.
And that's about it outside of canon events, which unfold about the same just with a little more resistance by the protagonist. It was hard to work with an S/I who wouldn't wanna play along with the story as is, so I gave him 3 Pokemon that'd drag him along the plot.
Charlos for Starfall Street, Koriadon for Path of Legends, and a Rotom Phone that REALLY loves to fight for Victory Road. He should probably have more teammates but I like these three.
#Emile's Arts#Emile's Writing#Pokemon Self Insert#Proship Selfship#Thankyou for asking#Thankyou Devin for your interest as always you're the BEST!!!!#Me and my history of being a bullying asshole finally getting to project that on an S/I#With REDEMPTION#HE AND GIACOMO BECAME FROM FRIENDS EVENTUALLY I PROMISE!!!#Ortega never REALLY forgives him though#Ortega's Tsundere act ain't an act with me he does actually just straight up hate my guts#And you know what fair I stole lunch money for like a full year#Post story he enjoys school again#Hangs out with friends#He's training to be a Professor some day. He wants to understand Pokemon better#He and Arven are on again off again traveling Paldea to find Gimmighoul#Oh I DO also have a Self Insert fic I wrote of him once based on my headcanon for how the crater works#If you want a link to that lemme know!!#Thanks so much for reading!!
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If Wes count, Wes 🤦
Wes gets a taste of his own medicine by dealing with a Karen. 😹 (The call center names and individuals names have been changed, but this is STRONGLY based on a true story from my years as a call center agent.) Here's the link to play!
-
Wes' parents were fine with buying his first (and second) camera. They were fine with paying for the photography lessons (which kept him from stalking observing Danny). They were even fine buying him a (used) ghost-proofed laptop from their neighbor who could no longer use it, on account of being a ghost.
They drew the line at a car. Which he needed, because Fenton was starting to branch out, and if he could get proof, nobody would think he was crazy anymore, and-
Well. Moot point. If he wanted a car of any kind, he had to do the same thing his brother did- cough up half up front, and have a steady job that paid enough for gas, registration, and insurance.
It was, admittedly, a more than fair deal. As long as they didn't have to pay more than $3,000 total, they were fine with whatever car he wanted to buy.
The GAV II from the Fentons cost considerably more than he could afford, but there was a scratched-up used Jeep with offroad tires for sale, which would work. And that led him here: Sunrise Telecom.
Sunrise was a callcenter in what was, decades ago, a large train warehouse. It also didn't care that he was 'that crazy stalker kid'- as long as he did his job well and made sales, nobody gave a damn.
He clocked in, sat down, and opened up the sites he needed. Immediately, the phone beeped with an incoming call. "Thank you for calling Custom Plates, your home for all plate customization needs. This is Wesley speaking on a recorded line, how can I help you?'
"Hi, is this where you order vibrators?"
The- what- what?!?!? "No sir, we customize license plates and sell accessories like bumper stickers and plate frames."
"Oh. Wrong number, sorry."
"That's ok, we get it all the time. Can I interest you in-" Click. Sadly enough, they did get that all the time, though it was Wes' first time hearing it.
The phone beeped again after he added notes and dispositioned. "Thank you for calling Custom Pla-"
"I want to speak with a manager!"
Ah. One of those.
"Okay, ma'am, I'll see what I can do. For now, can you please tell me what's going on? It's company policy to-"
"I don't care! I want to speak with a manager, you little moron!"
He scribbled his manager's name on a small whiteboard amd held it up as the woman started telling him exactly what was wrong with his generation. It was taken from him and returned, with 'she's @ lunch' on the bottom. Oh no.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry but my manager is in a meeting and won't be available for at least an hour. Is this something I could help you with? I can pull up your order for you and see what is going on."
"You stole my money!"
He raised an eyebrow. "If you'll provide me an order number, I'll be happy to give you the status of your order. If something has been delayed further than the originally estimated date, we can offer a partial refund. I do also need to let you know this is a recorded line," he offered.
She hissed, and he fought a giggle. Did she really think that was scary? He was from Amity Park. "I want a full refund, now!"
"We're only able to offer that in specific conditions, and l'll have to look up your order first."
"Let me talk to your manager, you little pissant," she snapped.
He raised the sign again. This time, it was returned with a frowny face. "I'm sorry, ma'am, she is still in that meeting. Is there something I can help you with?" Damn that one-call-resolution company policy!
She shouted and hung up. Finally. He muted himself and started taking notes to disposition.
Beep! Beep!
"Hi, thank you for calling-"
"I swear to God I will sue you if you give me the run around like that last kid."
Wes put his head in his hands. "Hello ma'am, this is Wesley on a recorded line. Our manager is currently busy, but I'll be happy to help you! Can I have your order number please?"
After 5 minutes (he counted) of complaints, she finally provided it. "Thank you, and who am I speaking with?"
"What?"
"I have to confirm the name on the order before I can discuss anything due to privacy laws."
"Karen. Schmidt." The words sounded ground out, but matched the order.
"Thank you, Ms. Schmidt. I'm showing your order was delivered on October 1st, and you signed for it. Was there something wrong with the order?"
"You can't see that!"
Not a denial, he noted. "I am looking at it now, ma'am. Is your address still 718 Crossgrove, Apartment C6, Paulson, Illinois?"
"Yes," she agreed after a moment. "But I didn't sign for it!"
"I can send a ticket to your local post office and make sure nobody signed for you," he said, "and it should take 2-3 business days to hear back. After that, we'll be able to-"
"The plates are broken," she said, and finally they were getting somewhere!
"I'm sorry to hear that! Can you please describe the damage, and if they were already damaged when you opened the box?"
"They've got this black box around them, and you can't see the whole design," she said, "and I'm not paying for broken ones."
Black box? Wait. "Is it shiny, and does it feel rubbery? The black stuff?"
"Yes, it's wrong!'
"Right. So that's just the protective covering. It protects the edges of the plates from damage and cracking. All you have to do is pull it off, and-"
"I'm the customer, you should do that for me!"
Was she asking him to drive an hour away? To unwrap her 'Best Grandma' plate?
"Unfortunately, we're not allowed to do that due to the risk of the edges breaking during shipping. However, it's easy to do, just-"
"Are you saying I'm stupid?!"
"No ma'am, I'm just providing instru-"
"I hope you get fired!"
How mad would they be if he just hung up?
She continued to rant, and he finally interrupted. "Ma'am, on the back there's a tab that says pull here. Just pull it."
She spluttered unhappily. "So?! It came off, I still want my refund!"
"Right. So go ahead and ship it back, we'll send you a label. Once we get the plate back, we can process a 50% refund since it isn't actually broken."
"But I want the plate."
Before he could stop himself, his patience long gone, he snapped, "that's not how Capitalism works. Send it today, we can get up to 50% back. Keep the plate for longer than 10 days, no refund. Keep in mind, it's already been 9."
She spat filth at him and hung up. He took notes and dispositioned.
His manager walked in. "Hey, did I miss anything?"
Wes groaned. Was that what he sounded like to Danny and his friends? An idiot who wouldn't listen to anything?
Beep! Beep!
"Hi, thank you for calling Custom Plates, your home for all plate customization needs. This is Wesley speaking on a recorded line, how can I help you?"
"Do you allow cusswords? I want one that says 'Go fuck yourself, cheating asshole."
"Afraid not, but we can leave a space and you can write in the missing letter."
If he survived today, he was going to be so. Much. Nicer.
#danny phantom#inthememetime#ask game#wes weston#call center#wes deals with a Karen#come ask me things
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Three’s Company
Summary: Naomi goes to lunch with the newest member of the diagnostic’s team.
A/N: Listen, I will not rest until Tobias and Ethan are friends again.
~v~
“It’s not going to be as bad as you’re making it out to be, Ethan. Above all else, Tobias Carrick is a doctor and a professional.”
Ethan resists the urge to roll his eyes at his girlfriend. This situation isn’t her fault, and it’s not like Naomi can help the fact that she’s optimistic. He still huffs under his breath though. “Being a doctor isn’t synonymous with being a professional. Trust me, Tobias is nothing of the sort.”
The news of Tobias Carrick not only coming to Edenbrook but also joining the diagnostics team hasn’t been well received. On top of a pretty tense exchange between Bloom and Ethan, Harper also made it known that she wasn’t a fan, thankfully not as outwardly as Ethan had.
Naomi however, has remained neutral. She doesn’t have history with Tobias like Harper and Ethan do, only knowing him through their biased second hand accounts. Ethan grumbled that he’s arrogant–though the same can be said about him as well–and selfish, but Naomi isn’t one to judge someone without knowing them. And besides, he pitched in to help save her last year, so for the time being, Tobias Carrick has a few brownie points with her.
“You’re being dramatic. He’s been a doctor as long as you have, he went to the same prestigious medical school that you did–”
“He graduated at number two,” Ethan interjects.
At that dig, Naomi huffs. “You’re being ridiculous. And petty, for no reason.”
“Bloom went over our heads and hired him, so I’m automatically suspicious. I apologize for not believing this wasn’t done specifically to annoy me.”
Naomi can concede to it being a bit suspicious, but she isn’t going to admit to this conspiracy of all roads leading back to Ethan. She’s not going to needlessly feed into his ego and rile him up.
The two of them continue their trek throughout the halls of Edenbrook in silence, their fingers loosely interlocked the entire way there. Naomi revels in it, because she knows it’s the calm before the storm.
Before they cross the threshold to the office, Naomi stops Ethan in his tracks. She cranes her head back so they can look each other in the eye. “Listen, like it or not, Tobias is here, and until he does something that warrants your hostility, at least be cordial. Our patients don’t deserve us at anything less than our best.”
Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose, and silently counts to three, attempting to steel himself.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.” Raising their joined hands, Naomi brushes a fleeting kiss across his knuckles. “Now stop pouting, Ramsey, we have work to do.”
Ethan untangles their hands only to open the door for Naomi. Once she steps inside she’s greeted with the sight of Tobias fiddling with Ethan’s coffee maker. He looks and flashes them a sly smile. “Mornin’, lovebirds! Ready to get to diagnosing?”
Ethan flashes Naomi a quick look. This is going to be a long day indeed.
~v~
So Tobias’s first day with the team wasn’t smooth sailing like Naomi wanted. Ethan and Harper made it clear that his former friend and roommate wasn’t wanted anywhere near the team, whether it be through passive aggressive eye rolls, thinly-veiled exasperated sighs, or outright aggression via Ethan that spiraled into a tense argument. Naomi remained neutral, corralling all of the attention back to the task at hand: helping their patient.
Naomi isn’t interested in spending another day babysitting these grown adults, so hopefully day 2 is a lot more smooth.
And so far, she seems to be getting her wish. Morning tasks were distributed without a fight, and after their morning huddle, Harper went downstairs to prep for a surgery she has coming up later. The remaining 3 members of the team are all in their own little corners of the office, Ethan typing away on his laptop, Tobias lounging on the couch, and Naomi sitting at their large desk, a pile of books and printed copies of online articles all spread out in front of her.
The words are all starting to blur together, her focus slipping away with each second that ticks on. Being in the office isn’t doing anything for her creativity or brainstorming power. She needs a break.
Naomi closes her textbook and pushes out of her seat, tired of studying. She makes her way over to Ethan’s desk, observing his hunched shoulders and the deep line between his brows. She rounds his desk until she’s standing directly in his line of vision. “You know what? I think it’s time to take a break. How about you and I get out of here and get something to eat?”
Ethan tears his eyes away from his computer screen long enough to look at Naomi. He frowns softly. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take a raincheck. On top of the actual work I have to do for this team, Leland is demanding that I put together a presentation for the board meeting at the end of the week.”
“About what?”
“About the team. Cost versus benefit, outcomes, methodology, etc. Basically, he wants me to sell the diagnostics team to him all over again.”
“Sucks to be the boss at times?”
“De facto boss,” Ethan corrects. “Remember, this team is supposed to be a democracy now. Anyway, I want to get this presentation done as quickly as I can so I can stop thinking about it.”
“I could go for some lunch,” the third person in the room speaks up. Naomi and Ethan both turn around and see Tobias staring back at them. “Oh sorry, am I interrupting the private conversation the two of you are trying to have in our communal workspace?”
“What do you want, Carrick?”
Tobias’s eyes bounce back and forth between the couple. “Naomi wants to escape these four walls and get food. You aren’t available, and I am.” He shrugs. “What are you in the mood for, Valentine? I could go for some Italian, and there’s a good place a few blocks from here.”
“She’s not going to lunch with you,” Ethan grits out possessively.
Naomi’s head whips around faster than she can stop herself. Since when did he get to make decisions on her behalf, especially when it’s not work related?
A small smirk settles on Tobias’s face. Naomi’s physical response to Ethan’s declaration does not go unnoticed by him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know your name was also Naomi Valentine. Whatever the case, I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“Naomi doesn’t–”
“Naomi doesn’t need an advocate to speak on her behalf because she’s an adult,” Naomi interjects sharply.
Whether she wants to accept or decline Tobias’s invitation to lunch, it’s her decision to make, not Ethan’s. His tumultuous relationship with Tobias is not her burden to bear, and he’s not going to force it upon her.
And just to prove it to him, Naomi turns around, her full attention back on Tobias, eyes alight with defiance. “You know what? Italian sounds delicious.”
~v~
20 minutes later, the unlikely duo is nestled into a corner booth of the Italian restaurant Tobias suggested. It’s a nice family owned joint that is currently experiencing a lunch rush. Every inch of the place is bustling with activity, the aromatic smell of sautéed garlic fills the air, soft music playing in the background. And while Naomi has yet to try the food, the restaurant is warm and inviting, and she likes it.
“You know, I’m really shocked you decided to take me up on my offer,” Tobias says, cutting into Naomi’s silent appraisal of their surroundings.
“I wasn’t going to turn down a free meal,” Naomi responds smoothly.
“A free meal?”
“Of course. You invited yourself, so you’re paying, Dr. Carrick. I’m thinking of ordering dessert, too.”
An easygoing smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she speaks, and Tobias laughs. “I meant it because loverboy wasn’t too happy with it.”
“As much as I respect Ethan’s opinions on things, they don’t dictate my life. His issues with you have nothing to do with me, and if you think you can use me as a pawn to piss him off further, I’d advise you to think again.”
This young woman is brazen and full of sass. Tobias likes it. “It wasn’t my intention, I swear. It’s no secret that I’m not a welcomed member of the team, and you happen to be the only one who doesn’t roll your eyes or sneer whenever I speak. You are the closest thing I have to an...acquaintance, I guess.”
Naomi’s defenses deflate slightly at his shocking display of earnestness. She was expecting some display of bravado from the attending, so this has thrown her for a loop.
Tobias is nervous. She picks up on that energy almost instantly.
“Well like I said, their issues with you have nothing to do with me. I try to give everyone a fair shake.”
“I can respect that.”
“But in the interest of said fair shake, you have to answer a question for me. What are you doing here?”
“Here, in this restaurant?”
“At Edenbrook,” Naomi clarifies. “Kenmore is a level one trauma center, it was saved from getting snuffed out when it merged with Solomon, you guys stole my research candidate which brought in a lot of grant money. You had a decent gig there, so why did you come to Edenbrook? Why did you accept a position on Ethan’s team?”
Tobias shrugs. “I hit my threshold at Kenmore. I was at the top of the food chain, I had seen everything there was to see, done everything there was to do. I was...bored and restless. Edenbrook got injected with new blood, everything is new and exciting. Bloom said he wanted to take the team to new heights, and he offered me more money than I know what to do with to be a part of the vision.”
“Okay so who’s to say you’ll be satisfied just being a member of the team? How do I know you won’t attempt to stage a coup and take Ethan’s position?”
“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not gunning for your boyfriend’s spot.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. There’s no need to be condescending.”
“I apologize. But Ethan’s spot on the team is safe. I don’t need Leland breathing down my neck and micromanaging me the way he does Ethan.”
Naomi’s eyes roam his face. He doesn’t have any tells, no eye shifting or twitching, no sudden movements with his hands or mouth, he doesn’t fidget in his seat. She has no reason to believe he’s lying, so she takes him at his word. “Okay.”
“Any other burning questions?”
“Why aren’t you and Ethan friends?”
Tobias doesn’t immediately answer, opting to take his sweet time to think on it. He pulls his lip in-between his teeth, before shrugging. “We’re too similar. Too driven, too ambitious, too stubborn. Two people can only go on the same path for so long before a collision happens.”
“It got ugly because you two wanted the same girl?”
Tobias scoffs. The faceless woman that he was adamant that he was in love with is at the bottom of his list of concerns. “She was just the tip of the iceberg.”
That manages to catch her interest. Naomi sits up in her seat and leans forward slightly. “So what happened?”
Naomi can see the exact moment that Tobias withdraws from the conversation. His posture gets stiff again and he averts his gaze.
“Okay, riddle me this, Carrick,” Naomi continues. “Ethan told me he reached out to you after you had your falling out, but you rebuffed him. Is that part true?”
“He called and asked if we could talk, I said no. I didn’t hear from him again until everything happened with Leland last year.”
“You didn’t want to make amends?”
Making amends and having his old friend back did sound nice once upon a time, but being friends with Ethan again means being in his shadow again. And that’s what led them to this whole thing in the first place. Tobias sighs and scrubs his hand across his jaw. He came here to eat a plate of ravioli and maybe annoy Ethan, not pour his heart out. What is it about Naomi Valentine and those big brown eyes of hers that makes him want to twist himself inside out and spill his guts? Is she some sort of siren?
“Making amends means I’d have to own up to my wrongdoings. I’d have to swallow the fact that I torpedoed our friendship,” Tobias confesses before he even realizes the words are out of his mouth. “Admitting fault and being vulnerable isn’t my strong suit.”
She doesn’t mean to, but Naomi giggles. And that giggle turns into a laugh. A loud one that attracts the attention of a few patrons, a hard feat to accomplish in the middle of a bustling restaurant, but she does it with ease.
“I’m sorry,” Naomi says once she finally calms down. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “God, no wonder you two were best friends. You are just as emotionally constipated as Ethan.”
“Emotionally constipated?” Tobias’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the blunt statement. And once the shock wears off, he laughs along with. “Touché, Valentine. Touché.”
~v~
Across the way, at the bar on the other side of the dining room, Ethan watches as his girlfriend and his former friend carry on like two bosom buddies.
Ethan decided to follow them approximately 10 minutes after they left, sheer curiosity getting the better of him. Before he could stop himself, he was in his car and at the restaurant, seated far enough away from them so he’s out of their line of vision, but close enough to see.
Naomi is in the zone, talking excitedly and Tobias sits there, soaking it all up like what she says and does is gospel. Their friendly interaction stirs irritation in the pit of his stomach, but it’s when Naomi lets out a boisterous laugh does he reach his limit. Ethan’s grip on the small tumbler in his hand tightens, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t end up with a million tiny shards of glass in his palm.
What on earth has Tobias said to make Naomi laugh like that? And why is he laughing with her?
Ethan doesn’t like it one bit, for a multitude of reasons. He doesn’t like other men being around Naomi–it’s ridiculous and sexist of him to feel this way, but Ethan is a possessive caveman, and he makes no bones about it. Seeing her actually laughing with Carrick of all people and enjoying his company makes him want to throw the drink ware he’s currently holding.
Deciding enough is enough, Ethan slams the glass down onto the bar and stands up. After dropping a $20 bill on the counter he makes his way over to Naomi and Tobias, unadulterated jealousy and alcohol fueling every step.
Tobias notices him first, and he jerks his head in Ethan’s general direction in order to get Naomi’s attention. She turns around and her eyes go wide at the sight of Ethan.
“Ethan? What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
Now her eyes are narrowed. “You finished that big presentation you had to work on?”
Ethan sniffs haughtily. Leave it to her to throw that back in his face. “I decided that a break was okay.”
“And you coincidentally ended up at this restaurant?”
“Yup.”
Naomi stands up, muttering a quick “excuse me,” in Tobias’s direction and grabs Ethan’s hand, pulling him away. They nestle into a quiet corner of the restaurant, far away from the table, closer to the kitchen. The door constantly swings open and closed, as the waitstaff goes in and out.
Once they get a moment of quiet, Naomi glares at Ethan, the expression on her face nothing short of annoyed. “Are you spying on me? Because spying on me implies that you don’t trust me.”
“What? Of course I trust you!”
“So what are you doing here, Ethan?”
Ethan bites the inside of his cheek and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Okay, so I was spying.” Naomi opens her mouth to say something, but Ethan beats her to the punch. “It’s not because I don’t trust you! It’s him that I don’t trust.”
“Tobias has been nothing short of a gentleman,” Naomi says and Ethan snorts. “He’s acting a lot of a lot more mature than you are, I can say that much.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is you treating him like he’s a criminal when he’s given you no reason to do so.”
“He’s given me plenty of reason, Naomi!”
“The last time we saw Tobias, I was near death and he helped save my life,” Naomi says, and that’s more than enough to get Ethan to shut up.
Ethan’s heart slams against his rib cage with enough force to make him think the organ is trying to leave his body. Months have passed since the assassination attempt, but the mention of it is enough to cause Ethan to go into a panic.
“And the time before that, we stole a patient right out from under him, and before that we got into a fight at a freaking hospital softball game,” Naomi continues. “You haven’t been all good, and he hasn’t been all bad, so stop pretending to have the moral high ground.”
“This past year, you made a lot of strides in your personal life. You battled a lot with your mom, but you came out of it, a more well rounded individual, so do not let Tobias’s presence cause you to backslide. I’m not saying he has to be your best friend, but I refuse to tolerate this type of nonsense past today.”
He takes a moment to digest what she’s saying, begrudgingly of course because he doesn’t really want to admit that he hasn’t been behaving like the mature, adult professional that he usually is.
Ethan nods and places a kiss on Naomi’s forehead, his lips lingering there.
“Are you listening to me?”
Ethan kisses the apples of her cheeks, inwardly smirking as he feels Naomi smile. “I promise you that I’ll keep myself in check from now on.”
“And if you don’t, I will.”
The threat causes Ethan to lose focus. She clearly doesn’t mean it in a seductive way, but he can’t help that his brain instantly goes to the gutter when she’s involved. Now he wants nothing more than to be alone with her, with any flat surface readily available.
“Yes ma’am,” Ethan murmurs before capturing her lips with his own.
Naomi doesn’t allow herself to get swept up in the kiss, because she knows Ethan is using it to distract her. She untangles herself from his grip and pulls away before he’s able to get any more leverage.
“Can we go back to the office now?” Ethan asks.
“Absolutely not. I came here to have lunch, so we’re having lunch.”
Ethan frowns. “You still want to go through with this?”
“I didn’t come here to teach you a lesson, and I’m actually enjoying Tobias’s company, so I’m staying. And you’re staying here too.”
“No.”
“You followed me here, you don’t have a choice.”
Ethan reluctantly follows Naomi back to the table, where Tobias is studying the menu. He doesn’t even look up when he hears footsteps approaching. “I’m debating on if I want the ravioli or the chicken parm, which one–” his voice falters as he sees Ethan.
“Look who’s decided to join us for lunch!” Naomi says brightly, steamrolling over the building tension. She pushes Ethan into an empty chair, not giving him a second to turn away.
Tobias opens his mouth to object, “But–”
“I’m going to head to the restroom,” Naomi says. “And one of you guys is ordering me a limoncello, because Tobias is treating.”
She flounces off, not giving either man a chance to respond or argue with her.
Tobias laughs. “Is she always like this? So bossy?”
“Naomi is unapologetically assertive,” Ethan corrects. “She makes no bones about it.”
“The scary part about it is I’m 100 percent going to order her a limoncello, because she’s not the type of person you say no to.”
This time it’s Ethan’s turn to laugh. It’s nice to know he’s not the only unsuspecting sap that cannot say no when Naomi turns on her charm.
Once the laughter tapers off, the former friends are plunged into silence. Ethan checks the time on his watch, watching the seconds stretch on. He needs Naomi to come back. Seriously, how long does it take to use the restroom? He spares a quick glance at Tobias, who’s pointedly not making eye contact with him either.
Eventually Tobias speaks up, “Look, I didn’t come to Edenbrook to cause any trouble. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity that came with more money than I could count.”
“Naveen started this team with the most honorable of intentions,” Ethan says. “This was his life’s work, and he entrusted me with it. You cannot possibly understand the loyalty I have to him, so forgive me if I’m extremely protective over it and skeptical of your motives, which haven’t always been pure.”
“I’m just here to save lives, and work on the most fascinating medical cases of our generation. I know how important this team is, and I’d never intentionally disrespect Naveen like that.”
Ethan nods. That’s all he can really ask of Tobias. “Then I guess we’re good.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
Another beat of silence passes and Tobias awkwardly drums his fingers along the stem of his water glass. “So...you and Valentine?”
The question is out of left field and Ethan’s brows furrow in confusion. “Uh, yeah, me and Valentine.”
“I like her,” Tobias says definitively. When Ethan glares at him, Tobias rolls his eyes. “Not like that. Relax, I get it loud and clear that she’s off limits. Besides, I know you’re head over heels in love with her.”
A scarlet flush creeps up Ethan’s neck at Tobias’s matter of fact declaration. “Love? I’m...we don’t...I don’t–”
Tobias smirks. “Oh man. You’ve got it bad.”
That much, Ethan is willing to share. “Yeah, I do.”
“Naomi did say we’re both emotionally constipated, and that blubbering you just did proves her point,” Tobias teases. “But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
The L-word has floated around in the back of Ethan’s mind for months, but he’s always been able to squash it down, locking it away in the deepest recesses of his brain. But hearing someone else say it is something entirely different. Ethan can’t run away from the thought.
Tobias has known since last year. He suspected something when Ethan came to defense during the softball game, but it was confirmed as soon as he saw them together after the incident with the senator. He had never seen Ethan so out of sorts, not even when they competed for the affections of the same woman back in school. Naomi is different. She has the power to bring Ethan to his knees.
“I hope you know that you’re punching way above your weight with that one,” Tobias adds teasingly.
It’s something Ethan thinks about constantly. Naomi could do so much better than him, but every day she chooses him. “Absolutely.”
“And for what it’s worth, she’s just as much into you. The woman gives you heart eyes whenever you’re around. It’s disgusting, to be quite frank.”
The sentence warms Ethan from the inside out. He’ll never get over knowing Naomi wants him just as much as he wants her.
Thankfully Naomi chooses that moment to come back to the table, giving the men something else to focus their attention on. She settles into a seat next to Ethan, and he immediately wraps an arm around her, his fingertips stroking her arm. Tobias observes the fleeting moment of intimacy with a private smile.
Naomi’s eyes flicker back and forth between the men. “Everything okay over here?”
Tobias and Ethan both look at each other, a silent moment of understanding passing between them. Ethan nods. “Everything is fine.”
Naomi smiles. Maybe there’s hope for them yet. “Good. Now let’s flag down a waiter and get some food.”
~v~
Tags: @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey
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How about fluff with Maxwell Lord x Reader inspired by "Just The Way You Are" by Bruno Mars.
I know a lot of people are writing Maxwell as this awful, depraved man (and I’m totally into that don’t get me wrong), but I had a lot of fun writing this soft Maxwell! :) (also I guess this is modern instead of the 80s, since there’s mentions of tabloids and stuff on computers!)
Exquisite
It came as a shock to most people when you and Maxwell Lord went public. He was a very notorious businessman, famous for his cutthroat management style but also his proclivity for salacious encounters, often with very attractive models or actresses. But as soon as you were hired as his assistant, he ended his one night stands and began to pursue you. You were quite shy around him to begin with and he was already pretty attracted to you, and his affection only grew once you got a little more confident in your job and you weren’t afraid to speak up at meetings or conferences.
He was a complete gentleman with you, making sweet comments as he passed your desk to get to his office. He’d often come back from lunch breaks with a little something for you. This started as little pastries or a hot drink, but once you started reciprocating the little flirts here and there it escalated to expensive makeup or jewelry. You soon began dating, and you were both so happy. You had somehow managed to keep the relationship under wraps for a year when Maxwell proposed to you.
It was an intimate dinner at home where he’d hired a chef to cook for the pair of you to celebrate your anniversary and you both got dressed up for the dinner, pretending you were out in a restaurant somewhere. Once you’d finished eating and Maxwell sent the chef home (paying him generously), the two of you continued your conversation over drinks when he slowly shuffled his chair back and walked around to your side of the table, dropping to one knee once he was in front of you. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black, velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, and you gasped.
“I knew from the second you walked into my office that first day that I had to be with you. And I still can’t quite believe I’ve been so lucky to call you my own for this past year. And now that I have you, I can’t see myself ever being sane without you. Y/N, will you do me the greatest honour in being my wife?” his voice was so gentle as he spoke, and it brought you to tears.
“Of course, Maxwell.” you choked out, practically throwing yourself onto the ground to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. He returned the kiss in earnest, only pulling back to take the ring out of the box and slip it onto your finger. When you looked back up at him, he was beaming, and you couldn’t help but lean in again, this kiss much softer than the one just exchanged, and you melted against him.
You parted, both breathless, and Maxwell pulled himself to his feet, before helping you up and kissing the tip of your nose before walking away from you, slipping a record onto your vinyl player before slinking back over to you and pulling you to him. You swayed gently to the music floating through his penthouse for what felt like hours. You felt like you were on a cloud, and you were almost certain you were dreaming at one point.
The next day was when you went public. You both went to work, and stepped out of the car hand in hand once outside the building, letting the paparazzi snap their photos of you. By the afternoon, they were already plastered over news websites with close-up shots of the ring on your finger. At first, you were excited it was all out in the open. Now you could show your affection for Maxwell in public, and you didn’t have to watch as women threw themselves at him and he politely turned them down.
You hadn’t considered the tabloids. In fairness, you probably should have predicted they’d turn on you soon enough, but it still took you by surprise.
One afternoon, about a week after the news broke, you were sat at your desk mindlessly scrolling through the news articles (at least what passes for news nowadays, that is) written about you, and you couldn’t help but feel like shit as you read through them.
‘Famed business tycoon Maxwell Lord now engaged to his secret assistant lover - is she using him for his money?’
‘Who is the woman who stole Maxwell Lord’s heart? What does Mr Lord see in her? Full exposé here’
‘Downgrade for Mr. Lord? See all his past flames as the news has broken of his engagement to his assistant Y/N L/N’
That last one hurt the most. The article contained a plethora of photos of stunning models and actresses who had been previously linked with Maxwell (rumoured or otherwise), and then several photos of you at the bottom. Some were of you at business events, pictured with Maxwell and his colleagues. Others were old photos the press must have dug up from old social media accounts, and some that paparazzi have taken in the last week or so. All containing spiteful captions like ‘Y/N looks worse for wear as she grabs a coffee without fiancé Maxwell Lord’, or ‘Y/N looks out of shape on morning run while Maxwell’s ex-flame looks toned and tanned in beach snap’.
You sighed as you scrolled through the endless bashing. You knew you should just close the window and forget about it, but the comments ate away at you, and you couldn’t stop reading them.
“Ignore them, my love.” you heard Maxwell’s soothing voice from behind you and you quickly exited the tabs and swiveled your chair to face him, plastering a smile on your face. He raised an eyebrow and gestured for you to follow him into his office. Once you were inside, he closed the door behind you and walked you backwards until you were leaning against his desk.
“Why do you read those pathetic excuses for journalism, sweetheart?” he brings his hands to your face and lifts your gaze to his own face.
“I know it’s trivial, Maxwell, but I can’t help but feel like they’re true.” you turn your gaze to the floor and he pulls your face to his, kissing you softly before pulling away to an arm’s length to look you over.
“You’re the most exquisite woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, my love.” his eyes shine with adoration as he drinks you in, like it’s the first time he’s ever seeing you. You feel your cheeks heat up in response to his words.
He rubs his thumbs across your cheeks, “Your eyes... my God, your eyes. It’s like looking into my own perfect little galaxy. They put the night sky to shame.”
Your lips curl into the semblance of a smile and he beams, “There’s that beautiful smile. I could look at it for hours, sweetheart. It practically stops my heart for a few seconds whenever you smile.”
“My love. Every single inch of you is flawless. Your face was sculpted by Aphrodite herself, I’m sure. And your body... well you definitely know by now how I feel about your body.” He raises a suggestive eyebrow and you stifle a giggle as he runs his hands down your sides, squeezing lightly on your hips before pulling you flush against him.
“And that laugh. My love, it’s like music to my ears. I know you hate it, but I think it’s so attractive.” He kisses the tip of your nose, looking deep into your eyes, his serious gaze practically burrowing into your soul, and you can’t help but smile up at him.
“And I know you don’t believe me when I say all of this. But I’m telling you now, I’ll never stop. I’ll tell you everyday how beautiful you are. There’s nothing I’d change about you. Well there is one thing, actually,” your smile falters and he pulls you tighter, a smile creeping onto his face.
“Your name.” he all but whispers against your lips, “I plan on making you Mrs. Lord very soon. But apart from that, there’s not a single thing I’d change. You’re perfect as you are. And if some cowards sat behind their screens typing that shit about you can’t see how perfect you are... fuck them. They don’t get to see you swaying to old records in the kitchen in nothing but my dress shirts, or writhing underneath me. They don’t get to see how truly beautiful you are. All the more beauty for me.”
“Thank you, Maxwell.” you lean up and press your lips to his, and you practically feel his adoration pour into the kiss.
Masterlist
Permanent taglist: @castieltrash1 @fioccodineveautunnale @mrsparknuts (message or send an ask if you want to be added or removed!)
#this is my first maxwell work#let me know what you think?#maxwell lord x reader#max lord x reader#pedro pascal x reader#maxwell lord#maxwell lord x fem!reader#max lord x fem!reader
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Cold As Ice
The Flash Captain Cold stars in: Cold As Ice
Dramatis Personae
Captain Cold, the pragmatic, constantly grumpy leader of the Rogues, alias Leonard Snart
Pied Piper, a Robin Hood-esque thief, alias Hartley Rathaway
Heat Wave, the dimwitted but surprisingly friendly pyromaniac, alias Mick Rory
Iris Allen, the daredevil reporter who is also the wife of Barry Allen
Mirror Master II, an extremely odd, extremely Scottish criminal, alias Evan McCulloch
Script
Act I
(Captain Cold is onstage. Enter Heat Wave)
Heat Wave: Captain Cold! It’s so good to see ya! (Hugs Cold)
Captain Cold: Two words, Mick: Personal. Space.
Heat Wave: Oh. Sorry, boss. I just got excited. (Releases Cold) It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Are you okay, buddy? Where’ve you been?
Captain Cold: Mainly, the prison infirmary. Got double pneumonia, and somethin’ called septic shock along with it, so I was in there for like a month. And then my ulcer started actin’ up again, so I was there for even longer. And THEN I had appendicitis on top of everything else. So, long story short, I was stuck in there until last week, and I only escaped two days ago.
Heat Wave: Oh, so THAT’s why I couldn’t find you!
Captain Cold: Yeah, that would probably be why. (Pause) What happened while I was out? I spent most of my time in the infirmary coughing, vomiting, or unconscious, so I wasn’t able to keep track of nothing.
Heat Wave: Well, the Trickster’s back in town, Captain Boomerang’s broken leg is healed, and your sister and the Top are in Hawaii for the fifth anniversary of their first date.
Captain Cold: WHAT?
Heat Wave: Don’t worry, boss. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.
Captain Cold: That’s not what I’m worried about.
Heat Wave: Then what are you worried about? It’s not like they’re chasing tornadoes or anything.
Captain Cold: I’m worried about what that stuck-up snob might do to my baby sister when I’m not there to protect her. He thinks people like us are trash, and it would be just like him to decide that she’s not worthy of his affections and dump her. I don’t want her to get hurt like that.
(Enter Pied Piper)
Heat Wave: Boss, the Top wouldn’t do that. He’s our friend.
Captain Cold: No, he ain’t. He’s an arrogant creep who thinks he’s better than us.
Heat Wave: If you say so, boss. (Notices Piper) Boss, look who’s here! It’s the Pied Piper! I’ve been trying to find him for weeks! (To Piper) Hiya, little buddy!
Pied Piper: (Slightly surprised) Hello, Mick. It’s a pleasure to see you.
Heat Wave: How are you?
Pied Piper: Homeless. Again. You see, I was going to get a nice little cottage in the suburbs somewhere, but then I ran into a very pregnant woman whose husband had just lost his job, so I had to give her some money, and then I met a poor little boy who really wanted a football, so I bought it for him, and then I stumbled upon a youth center that was about to close for lack of funds, so I gave them some money, and then I met a really nice old lady who needed an operation that she couldn’t afford, so I gave her some money, and then I heard about a flood in India, and so I had to donate some money to that cause, and then I met a family with a little girl who needed a wheelchair, so I gave her some money, and then I was broke, so I couldn’t buy the cottage.
Heat Wave: I can give you some money, little buddy.
Captain Cold: Don’t bother. He’ll just give that away, too. (To Piper) Kid, how many times do we have to go over this? You ain’t rich no more. If you don’t wanna be homeless, you have to keep some of the money you steal for yourself.
Pied Piper: I can’t do that! I spent the first twenty years of my life in palatial luxury. If I’m going without now, it’s only fair. My family has utterly ignored the plight of the poor in this city, and if I have to be homeless to make things right, so be it!
Captain Cold: You’re crazy. (Pause) When was the last time you ate, kid? You’re so thin I can see your ribs!
Pied Piper: Um ...three days ago? I think?
Captain Cold: Three days ago? Are you tryin’ to kill yourself? You ain’t used to bein’ cold and hungry. If you keep this up, one of these days the Flash is gonna be arresting your corpse!
Heat Wave: The boss is right, little buddy. It ain’t healthy to starve yourself to help people.
Pied Piper: I wasn’t planning to not eat for three days. It just happened.
Captain Cold: Then plan better, you idiot!
Heat Wave: (pulls out granola bar) Here, little buddy.
Pied Piper: Thank you, Mick. (Takes bar, eats ravenously) Do you have more?
Heat Wave: No...but I can take you to lunch with me.
Pied Piper: That would be nice….
Heat Wave: Okay! Then let’s go eat! I’ve found a really great new barbeque chicken place!
Captain Cold: And by really great, you mean “full of chicken so spicy that no normal person can eat it”.
Heat Wave: Oh, yeah. I didn’t think about that. (Pause) Okay, how about we go to Steak ‘n’ Shake? I love their sandwiches.
Captain Cold: After three months of eating the stuff they give you in the infirmary? That’d be good. They have some great milkshakes.
Pied Piper: Right now, I’m so hungry that I could probably eat dog food. I’m happy with anything that won’t make my mouth catch on fire.
Heat Wave: Okay, then let’s go! I can’t wait to talk with you guys and catch you up on what you’ve missed while you were gone!
Act II
(Iris is onstage)
Iris: I’ll say this for being a superhero’s wife-it gets you the best stories! Unless I miss my guess, the information Animal Man gave me will get me on the front page. Why, this is the biggest government cover-up since Watergate! Just wait until Barry hears about this! He’ll be so proud! Maybe it’ll even cheer him up a bit. (Pause) Poor Barry. He just hasn’t been the same since Abra Kadabra stole his super speed. I hope Wally’s mission to get it back is successful, because he feels so bad about not being able to help people as the Flash. (Pause) Oh, well. Worrying about it won’t help, so I’ll just go back to my investigation. Watch out, bad guys-Iris Allen is on your case!
(Enter Evan McCulloch, the second Mirror Master)
Evan McCulloch: Howzitgoan, Mrs. Allen?
Iris: (Spins around) Who are you? And how did you get in here?
Evan McCulloch: My name is Evan; Evan McCulloch. As for your second question: well, I’ll give you a wee hint: it’s all done with mirrors.
Iris: With mirrors? (Pause) You’re a Mirror Master, aren’t you?
Evan McCulloch: Mirror Master? That’s a well good name, but up until now it wasnae mine.
Iris: But you can use mirrors as weapons or for transportation?
Evan McCulloch: Aye. Wasnae aware doing that came with a title.
Iris: My husband’s a superhero, and he fights a criminal named Sam Scudder, who calls himself the Mirror Master. By all appearances, you’re using his tech, but the only people who have access to any of it-besides Scudder himself, unfortunately-work for the government.
Evan McCulloch: Aye. How do ye think I got ahold of it?
Iris: You work for the government?
Evan McCulloch: Officially, nae. They’ve made it well clear that if I get lifted, they’ll deny that they had anything tae do with me.
Iris: So you’re working for the government.
Evan McCulloch: They’re paying me, aye. Ye see, in Glasgow, I had a reputation for making people's ...problems… disappear, and apparently your government decided that I’d be useful in making their problems disappear.
Iris: And I’m a problem?
Evan McCulloch: Aye. Certain members of your government will be in big trouble if ye reveal what they’ve been up tae, so they told me to make sure that ye cannae tell anyone about what ye’ve found.
Iris: My husband and nephew are superheroes. If anything happens to me, you’ll answer for it.
Evan McCulloch: Calmy doony. I’m nae here tae kill ye. I’m nae saint, but I’m nae going to kill a woman, especially nae tae keep a secret that will come out anyway.
Iris: Then why are you here?
Evan McCulloch: Tae warn ye. I’m nae the only dangerous man on their payroll. They need ye silenced, so when I refused to kill ye, they sent another man.
Iris : Forgive me if I’m less than convinced that your intentions are benevolent.
Evan McCulloch: Nae danger. But I’d still advise ye tae come with me.
Iris: I’m licensed to carry a gun. I think that I can handle myself now that I’m forewarned.
Evan McCulloch: Not against the man they’re sending. I’m nae the only one they gave well dangerous technology, ye ken?
Iris: Is that so? Then I think I’ll borrow this! (Grabs mirror and disappears)
Evan McCulloch: Jings! She’s clever, isnae she? (Shakes head) I’d better follow her. She’s brave, but she does nae ken what’s after her.
(Exit Evan)
Act III
(Pied Piper, Heat Wave, and Captain Cold are onstage)
Heat Wave: Are you feeling better, little buddy?
Pied Piper: Yes, and thank you.
Heat Wave: You’re welcome. (Pause) By the way, do you know when Golden Glider and the Top are coming back from their vacation?
Pied Piper: Wait. You didn’t hear?
Heat Wave: Hear what?
Pied Piper: The Top and Golden Glider never went on vacation. They’ve been in Central City the whole time. James even told me that he, Sam, and Mark did a heist with the Top.
Heat Wave: They’re still in Central City?
Pied Piper: It seems that way, yes.
Captain Cold: Then where’s my sister?
Pied Piper: That’s the thing: no one knows. James said that he never saw her-although he does think that the Top knows where she is.
Captain Cold: If he’s hurt her, I’ll kill him!
Pied Piper: Captain Cold, the Top worships your sister. He would never hurt her.
Captain Cold: Then where is she, and why isn’t she with him?
Heat Wave: You know, boss, just because your sister’s not in our immediate line of sight doesn’t mean that she’s in trouble. She can take care of herself. After all, up until a few years ago, we only saw her a few times a year.
Captain Cold: She wasn’t dating the Top or a member of the Rogues until a few years ago either.
Heat Wave: So, uh, why don’t you just call her if you’re that worried about her, boss?
Captain Cold: Don’t be stupid, Mick. (Long pause) Hey, I’ve got it! I can just call Lisa and make sure she’s okay!
Heat Wave: You’re so smart, boss.
Pied Piper: Wait...didn’t you just say that Mick was being stupid for suggesting that idea?
Captain Cold: We’ll talk about it later. (Pulls out phone, dials number. Pause) Lisa! Hi! It’s so good to hear from you! (Pause) I was in the prison infirmary. I had double pneumonia, septic shock, and appendicitis. Oh, and my ulcer acted up some, too. What have you been doing? (Pause) You’re doing what? Why? (Pause) He’s sick, too? What are the odds? Do you know what his problem is? Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. Yes, I’m sure you’ll get whatever it is he needs to get better. (Pause) No, I don’t want him dead. I hate his guts, but for some mysterious reason he makes you happy, so I want him to stay alive. (Pause) Have you been feeling all right? Has anyone tried to hurt you? No? Good. (Pause) Are you sure ? (Pause) Okay, okay, I’ll stop asking. Good luck, little sis. I love you. Good-bye. (Puts phone away) My little sister’s a genius.
Heat Wave: Where’s she been?
Captain Cold: Apparently, her snob of a boyfriend is dying, and the only cure is at CCPD headquarters, so she’s posing as a police scientist named Patty Spivot in order to steal it. She’s even befriended Barry Allen! I’m so proud of her.
Heat Wave: Aww, that’s adorable! I always knew that little Lisa was one smart cookie.
(Iris appears in the background, then disappears again)
Pied Piper: So, um, now that we’ve finished eating, are we going to do something, or are we just going to go our separate ways?
Captain Cold: I’m not going to lead a heist today, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m still too far behind on recent events right now.
(Enter Evan McCulloch)
Evan McCulloch: Have any of ye seen a bonny woman with red hair around here?
Captain Cold: Who are you? And where did you come from?
Evan McCulloch: I dinnae have time for that right now! I need tae make sure that a hitman does nae kill a woman named Iris Allen!
Pied Piper: Iris Allen? The wife of the Flash?
Evan McCulloch: Aye, that’s the one.
Captain Cold: AGGH! (Collapses)
Heat Wave: Boss, what’s wrong?
Captain Cold: I ...I think it’s my ulcer. My stomach is-ARGH!-killing me!
Heat Wave: Bros befores wives of heroes, random guy! I’ve gotta get my boss to the hospital, so we can’t help you save Iris. Sorry. I’ll buy you dinner later to make up for it if you want.
Captain Cold: I’m-UGH!-fine, Heat Wave!
Heat Wave: No, you’re not, boss. You just collapsed, and you’re obviously in pain. We are going to the hospital.
Pied Piper: Can you get him to the hospital without me?
Heat Wave: Yeah. Why?
Pied Piper: Because Iris Allen is an amazing woman who definitely deserves my help.
Heat Wave: I guess I can get Captain Cold to the hospital on my own. So yeah, if you wanna go help the Flash’s wife, I guess you can.
Pied Piper: Great. (To Evan) I’ll help you.
Evan McCulloch: Ah’m glad for your help, wee man in green. Now brace yourself. Traveling through Wonderland is well tricky at first.
Pied Piper: What’s Wonderla-AAAH!
(Evan McCulloch and Pied Piper disappear)
Heat Wave: (Pulls out phone and dials) Hello? Operator? My friend needs an ambulance…
Act IV
(Enter Pied Piper and Evan McCulloch)
Pied Piper: Could you give me a little warning the next time you pull me through the Mirror Realm?
Evan McCulloch: The Mirror Realm? Is that what ye call Wonderland?
Pied Piper: No, it’s what the Mirror Master calls “Wonderland”. How did you get ahold of his technology, anyway? And who are you?
Evan McCulloch: Evan. Evan McCulloch. I was given the tech by members of the US Government who are buried so deep in a scandal they’ll do anything tae keep it covered. They hired me tae kill Iris Allen, but I refused, so I dinnae think they’re still paying me. In fact, if I’m nae careful, they might try tae off me tae cover all their loose ends. Who are ye?
Pied Piper: I’m the Pied Piper, one of the Rogues. The other two men you saw with me are Heat Wave, another member of the group, and Captain Cold, our leader.
Evan McCulloch: Rogues?
Pied Piper: Yes. We’re a group of thieves who work together to fight the Flash.
Evan McCulloch: What sort of thieves are so concerned about each others’ health that they’ll call ambulances for each other?
Pied Piper: I don’t know. What sort of hired gun refuses to kill a target and then goes out of his way to warn her about the planned assassination?
Evan McCulloch: Point taken, laddie. I’d like tae be in a group like that. I have nae been able tae trust anyone since I left Mrs. McCulloch, and it’d be nice tae not have tae watch my back all the time, ye ken?
Pied Piper: You abandoned your wife?
Evan McCulloch: I dinnae have a wife. Mrs. McCulloch ran the orphanage where I grew up. She’s the closest thing I have tae a mother.
Pied Piper: My apologies.
Evan McCulloch: Nae danger. Ye didn’t ken.
Pied Piper: Well, if you really want to join the Rogues, you’ll probably have to ask Captain Cold. He’s the one who makes the final decisions about who becomes a member of the group. (Pause) Oh, and you’ll also have to come up with a supervillain name.
Evan McCulloch: Oh, I’ve already got one. I can be the Mirror Master.
Pied Piper: I don’t think Sam will like that. It’s bad enough that you’re using his gear. I don’t think he’d take very kindly to you taking his name, too.
Evan McCulloch: Then I’ll call myself Mirror Master II.
Pied Piper: That would probably just make him angrier.
Evan McCulloch: Well, if he makes a fuss aboot it, I’ll just punch him.
Pied Piper: (Aside) If nothing else, he’ll fit in well. (To Evan) Why don’t we talk more about potential names later?
Evan McCulloch: That would be fine, aye.
Pied Piper: Good. So where do you think Iris is going?
(Enter Iris)
Iris: Hello, Evan. Hello, Pied Piper. What are you doing here?
Pied Piper: I’m helping Evan rescue you, I think.
Iris: That’s sweet of you, Hartley, but I don’t need rescuing. Thanks to the Mirror Gun, I took out my would-be assassin, and Jay’s taking him to jail right now. Now I just need to finish writing my article, and I can put this whole mess behind me.
Pied Piper: Well, I’m very glad you’re alright, Mrs. Allen. Good luck with your expose. I’m sure it will have the high quality of all your work.
Iris: Thanks, Piper.
Evan McCulloch: (Aside) If she defeated that assassin, we’d better get oot of here before she defeats us, tae. After all, we aren’t exactly innocent ourselves. (Aloud) In that case, my work here is doon. Ta! (Evan grabs the Mirror Gun, then grabs Piper, and both disappear)
Iris: Looks like I’d better tell Barry, Wally, and Jay that the Rogues have a new member. Hmmm ...that could actually be a story all on its own! If I play my cards right, I could have two award winning stories and help defeat two separate groups of bad guys all from one investigation. This is awesome! I love it when I help my loved ones bring justice. (Pause) I should probably get back home, though. Those stories aren’t going to write themselves!
(Exit Iris)
Act V
(Captain Cold is lying down onstage; Heat Wave is standing by him)
Heat Wave: You feeling better, boss?
Captain Cold: A little. I can’t believe that my stupid ulcer put me in the hospital twice in less than three months!
Heat Wave: Maybe it’s all the stress in your life. I’ve heard that stress makes ulcers worse, and your job is really stressful. Maybe you should take a vacation.
Captain Cold: And let the Top run the Rogues into the ground? Not a chance.
Heat Wave: It wouldn’t have to be for very long ...just a couple of days, maybe.
Captain Cold: I’m not taking a vacation, and that’s final!
Heat Wave: I guess you know best, boss. If you don’t want to take a vacation, you don’t have to.
(Enter Evan McCulloch and Pied Piper)
Pied Piper: Hello, Mick. Hello, Captain Cold.
Heat Wave: Hi, little buddy! How’d the rescue go?
Pied Piper: As it turned out, she rescued herself, so our presence turned out to be completely superfluous. That being said, I think I did find us a potential new member of the Rogues. His name is Evan McCulloch, and he wants to be part of a group that he knows will have his back.
Evan McCulloch: Howzitgoan?
Heat Wave: Hi, Evan! I’m Heat Wave, but you can call me Mick Rory. Where are you from?
Evan McCulloch: Glasgow, Scotland. The city of culture!
Heat Wave: Oh, so that’s why you sound so funny. (To Captain Cold) Can he stay, Captain Cold? Please? He’s funny sounding, and I like him.
Captain Cold: I can see that you have Mirror Master’s gear. The original is one of my best friends, and I don’t think he’d like you using his tech. That being said, my health hasn’t been great lately, so we could probably use another guy with his powers in the case of an emergency. (Pause) All right, Scostman, you’re in…...but you’re on probation until I say otherwise.
Evan McCulloch: That’s good eno for me, Captain Cold.
Captain Cold: In that case, your first job is to help me find the other Rogues. When we face the Flashes next, I want to be as well prepared as possible.
Pied Piper: Well, if everything is all right here, then I will be going. You know where to find me if you need me, and this city has a lot of people who need my help.
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Diary of high school meme
this is a joke NSFW 18+
Part 1
My bro walks up to me and is like Benny how you feeling? I say I feel great, even though that’s not my name that’s not my name. Then we both hit the woah at the same exact time.
Then his VSCO girlfriend says an I opp sksksksk. Then she says WHO EVER JUST SENT YOU THIS JUST DUMPED YOUR ASS!
Then my guy turns to her and says respect the drip Karen!
Then I say no matter what, he will always come back to me.
Then my bro and I hug no homo though. Then we walk away to the song Rockstar by: Smashmouth, while doing the floss aggressively.
Then we go and play Minecraft together while drinking Bang and eating Doritos till one in the morning.
But then my bros mother Linda sent me home. ☹
Part 2
Linda is such a bitch “B-I-C-T-H in that order!” she always makes me leave A-arons house at one thirty in the morning.
Later that week A-aron and I took a seat in class. Then our teacher kept talking about China and how more then half our exports come from there.
Then A-aron went outside to vape. Karen then comes over and says give me your Juul. Then I say no Karen that Juul coast me sixty dollars. I had to get a senior to pay for it. I only work at Chilis so it took three paychecks to buy.
That night I worked and everyone at once said “Welcome to Chilis!” I just ignored them and kept walking as I usually do.
I go home then check my Reddit and Twitter fifty times to make sure I am still verified.
Part 3
The next day comes and I pick up A-aron up in my sick 2001 Toyota Camry it is beige of course only the sickest color.
We then get Karen and you won’t believe what she did… she yeeted my vape out the window! What the fork Karen! That took three paychecks from Chilis to buy.
Karen then says she hates that place and last time she ate there, they messed up he order. So she complained to the manager.
Damn Karen, I don’t need her anyway I will always have my bro A-aron. Our nights together watching Shrek 3 and Cars 2… Best movies ever! And of course, listening to our lord and savior Daft Punk on full volume.
Part 4
A bunch of kids are doing a fundraiser for Harambe and I am all for it of course “save the whales.”
And that’s why I only use Twizzlers to drink my RedBull. I don’t always drink RedBull but when I do I use a Twizzler as a straw then eat it.
Later I texted A-aron on my Nokia phone I sent him exactly 69 memes at exactly 4:20 as it is totally lit to do so every day. I said we should totally get back at Karen for throwing my Juul. He disagreed with me, then I told him to stop being such a girl. Then he says don’t assume my gender and I said look man I had no idea. Then he said you just did it again. I give up!
Then I smoked the devils cabbage and went to sleep #Blazeit
Part 5
A-aron and I made up he bought me a new Juul and said that our friendship is never ogre. So then I said #Fam! Then he and I did our secret handshake which consists a dab the woah and five different Fortnite dances.
Today I started dating Kim Vardashian she is a #skinnylegend who is also thicc with two c’s. I can’t wait till we can aggressively hug! But she is embarrassed of our love because I am a freshman and she is a senior.
I think today is the day I try out for the school play we are putting on the production Mulan 3. I want to play the part of Simba.
That night for dinner A-aron and I got Subway #I’m lovin’ it, it was mmm… mmm… mmm… finger licking good. Then we bought two cotton candy Juul cartridges from Kim and vaped all night.
Part 6
My Nokia phone stopped working so I went to the closest Radio Shack and got a brand-new Blackberry with a slide out key pad. It was very dope!
Since it was Saturday I went home and hardcore gamed on my Tamagotchi. It died ☹… it was sad until a new one came, and I bought all the snacks for it!
Kim is such a slut she broke up with me and told me she was only dating me because I have a job and gave her money to buy stuff from Gucci. Then she told me 20$ a week was not cutting it. Then I told her that’s all I make in a week. Now I also work for Walmart to make more money. But I guess it still was not enough for her. Damn Kim at least I have A-aron
Part 7
A-aron and Kim got together I tried telling him that she was a bitch. But the #thirstisreal for him like he is the Sahara Desert when it comes to women. He really doesn’t care but I will be there if his heart gets broken.
Today is also my cousins 18th birthday and he is getting a tattoo. Its going to be a 95 the 9 is going to be a butterfly and the 5 is going to be a bee, and under it will say float like a butterfly sting like a bee Kachow -Lightning McQueen
He is actually going to get two tattoos the other one is going to be a glass of milk, swiss cheese, yogurt and under that one its going to say #legen-dairy #veganforlife. He is also getting Gingy from Shrek slippers
Part 8
Karen got hit with a tour bus!!! We rushed her to the hospital and to the psych ward cuz she cray cray.
Its been a month since A-aron and Kim got together I am very surprised. We all visited Karen today and then Kim said they were expecting. Then Karen said boom pregnant.
Apparently, the baby is going to be a reincarnation of Donald Trump and the baby is going to be huodge. But this is all according to Karen. But it seems legit, so I believe it.
I’ve been taking care of Karen’s dog Lo-Maine. He wares a Supreme hoodie and a Rolly on his wrist and even has Jorden’s and I must dress him every day #1stworldprobs.
Part 9
Karen got released today from the hospital and to celebrate she stole her moms ID and went to Iowa to celebrate. She then sent me a video of herself, “Hi my name I Kendall and I am here in Cedar Rapids once again asking for your support.” Your support for what I thought but then I saw it Kendall Landers-Linton 2020 president, Kendall must be her mom’s name.
Kim is now 5 months prego and still hanging on strong and everyone helps her with stupid shit like the teachers tell her she can have extensions on all her assignments. So unfair I get an erection every hour and I don’t get extensions on anything except my dick.
Who would vote for Karen I mean she looks like a 40-year-old woman, but she’s crazy to think that they won’t figure out that she’s just 20 and a senior in high school.
That day was crazy, so I went on my computer and watched my extra special anime movie if you know what I mean 😉. Jerked the turkey for 30 minutes and felt way more relaxed after my little session thank god for Japanese henti.
Part 10
Today we watched the Sanic the hedgehog movie it was the best movie ever in the movie Shrek and Sanic have a relationship. They end up getting married and having aggressive sex while listening to all of Smash mouths songs. Then they had hedgehog ogre hybrid babies they were so ugly that they were cute.
I later sat in class with A-aron he said that after watching that Sanic movie that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a father. Because Shrek and Sanic made for a really good couple and were good at raising their kids. I told him not to worry and that if he watched all the Shrek movies and played all the Sanic games that he had already learned all he needs to about fatherhood. He felt relieved after I said all that, he said it was good that he did all the necessary research we then dabbed and then the bell rang.
Kim went into labor at lunch it was really disgusting, but interesting because all these people came, and our school nurse Joe Biden delivered the baby. Kim decided to name her son Boe Jiden after Joe Biden’s name, the school nurse was in tears until he saw another baby coming out. It’s a girl!!!! Kim named that kid Karen Jr. after her best friend. It was amazing then I told A-aron that his sperm must be made of steel since he had two kids, he then punched me in the arm no homo though.
Part 11
All of the sudden another baby just shoulder dropped itself out of Kim. It was a boy!!! "I will name this one Jim Cenass" (all of the sudden from the corner you here horribly played kazoo it plays the John Cena fan fair) do do do do... it's that new transfer student Korona Tortilla Vanbargen Sale Pool Noodle the 4th KTVSPN4 for short. Jim Cenass starts waving his hand in front of his face as of to say you cant see me then he just goes ham on our school nurse Joe Biden. The principal Jeb Bush had to break up the fight. Then Jim started fighting Boe and Karen jr. It was something else.
Our new transfer student KTVSPN4 is very strange she kinda keeps to herself but at least she made friends with Kim and Karen. She's from China and is such a cry baby she keeps complaining that her sister died of this weird disease. But other then that been helping A-Aron with his three babies Jim is a handful and we have to keep him away from the others but it's kinda hard now because they have already started calling and Jim can walk.
Part 12
Today I was just sitting in Chillery Hiltons history class when all of the sudden I heard loud noises coming from above me. Then Boe and Joe just shoulder dropped onto the teacher it was very strange. Thankfully Chillery is going to be ok!
Later that day Kim's babies are getting baptized by our local priest Dr. Phil. Jim was not having it and started going ham on Dr. Phil. Dr. Phil then say y'all need Jebus in your life. Phil then #getsrektmydude. And Bylieye Eyelash starts playing her song I'm the Evil Man which was perfect for the occasion.
We all had an assembly today our principal Jeb said it was to recognize great teachers in our school. "Best dance teacher Shreckira" Shreckira goes up and can not hold herself together it was major aco taco.
"Lane Jinch for best gym teacher" Lane goes up and says "I know I'm the best." "Sernie Banders best public speaking teacher" Sernie goes up and gives a 50 page long speech how he doesn't deserve this. "Steve Harvey for best health teacher and guidance counselor" Steve then goes up and starts talking about how important college is and the birds and the bees. And last but not least "Beyonce for best music teacher" Beyonce comes up and starts singing my Heart will go on by Celine Dion. Jeb then says please clap!
Part 13
Today Karen got Lo majne trained to be a service dog naturally every one at school wanted to pet lo majne. Karen was like "I'm working bitch" so we all backed off because Karen is crazy!
Today I went to the super market and you know your boy broke yo. So I tried to take some stuff you know and you will never believe what they did. They tried to arrest my ass I dont deserve this I'm broke and now they want me to go to court. Like type 2 diabetes ain't no body got time for that. My lawyer says they will fight for me they dont have a gender and they call themselves foxy Roxy. Hopefully foxy Roxy has my back and we win.
Hey I'm foxy Roxy I usually work at a drag strip club and men eat me up. Just when you thought your husband was straight oh no honey he ain't. I make about 10million pennies or should I say 10 million penis's every show and I live in a trailer with my sweet heart wide boy and I will win this
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🎶 Ooh, Barracuda! 🎶
Heads turn as Darcy Lewis walks past. Gone are her trademark comfy sweaters and clunky boots. Instead she's a wearing an almost work appropriate blue-grey dress paired with stilettos with glossy red soles that match her lipstick. The men gathered in the common room almost fall out of their chairs (Clint succeeds) in an effort to keep watching the wiggle in her walk as she nears the end of the hallway.
When she gets to the end of the hall she turns but only manages to take two steps before one of her ankles wobbles and she stumbles.
A loud record scratch startles them all out of their trances.
"Wait, that music wasn't in my head?" Barnes mumbles, glancing at the ceiling as Clint rights himself, Steve, blushing, looks down at his tablet, and Tony steps into the hallway smirking as Darcy swears at her shoes.
"Short-and-stacked, how many times have I told you not to highjack JARVIS in order to make a dramatic entrance. Only I'm allowed to do that."
"It's motivational, Iron Ass," Darcy huffs. "I gotta be able to walk in these damn things by 11."
"What happens at 11?"
"Pepper has a meeting with Dr I'm-a-tortured-academic-slash-whiny-incel Smith. I took an intro science class with him at Culver," she continues before Tony could ask. "He totally tried to coerce me into sleeping with him to get a better grade and my complaints didn't go anywhere because the asshole had tenure. He's the reason I was six credits short and had to intern with Jane - not that it all didn't work out for the best. But now," she rants, stomping back to her starting point barefoot, shoes in hand, "After years of trashing Jane’s work, he has the nerve to come here looking to scam grant money out of Pepper for a project he totally stole from one of his female grad students? I don’t think so!"
"If this guy's such a sleaze, what's with getup?" Tony asks. "Don't you maybe wanna bring that neckline up a bit?"
"He can’t handle all this,” she retorts, gesturing at her everything.
“I doubt any man could, doll. But I’d be willing to give it the old college try,” Bucky mutters under his breath, smirking even as Steve elbows him in the ribs.
“He's totally intimidated by strong, confident, overtly sexual women; he only ever propositioned the frumpy, mousy girls because those were the only type of women he felt he could manipulate.”
“You were mousy?” Clint scoffs earning a middle finger in reply.
“Between me and Pepper - and Nat if she gets back in time - we're going to destroy him," Darcy vows with a feral grin as she put her heels back on.
"Fair enough," Tony mutters into his coffee as he gets the hell out of Darcy’s Darcy's way. He turns to his teammates and snorts. While Steve and Clint are pointedly not staring at her ass, Barnes has repositioned his chair for a better view.
"Let’s go again, JARVIS!"
🎶 Ooh, Barracuda! 🎶
It takes her a few tries but once she completes a full circuit of the hallway without stumbling the boys cheer. Darcy laughs; each of them is holding up a perfect score, be it on a tablet, phone, or hologram.
“Thanks guys. Wish me luck!”
“Knock ‘em dead, doll.”
“But not literally!” Tony calls out as she summons the elevator. “Legal will have a few things to say if that rack gives the old perv a heart attack.”
“No promises!”
“Christ… what a way to go,” Bucky sighs wistfully.
Steve shakes his head at his best friend. “Put us all out of our misery and ask the girl out, Buck.”
“What’s a dame like that,” he replies, gesturing to the elevator with a metal thumb, “want with a guy like me?”
“Bucky!”
All four heads turn at the sound of Darcy’s voice, three immediately turn back and stare at the ceiling rather than get a damn near x-rated view of their favourite lab manager’s assets as she leans out of the elevator.
“Uh, yeah?” Bucky stammers, unable to look away.
“How quickly can you get changed into your murdersassin get up? I might wanna have this guy wetting himself as he gets escorted from the building.”
“I can be up in five.”
“Make it ten. Wait outside, arms folded, and just glare at him. Okay?”
“Whatever you want, doll,” he swears as he makes his way over to her, drawn in like a goddamn magnet. “And, uh, maybe after you’ve broken this guy… I can take you to lunch?”
Bucky swears she almost looks disappointed.
“You couldn’t have asked me that before I got dressed up like a walking wet dream?”
Bucky blushes at her crass words, leaning against the elevator door as his mind wanders. “You know what I dream about? The first day I met you. You were wearing that blue fuzzy sweater that made your eyes look electric, and you had your feet up on your desk - no shoes and pretzels all over your socks, humming away to whatever was playing on your headphones. Except in my dreams you're on my couch and I get to sit next to you.”
“What are we watching?” Darcy asks, blushing.
“No idea what you’re watching, doll. I’m always watching you.” Bucky smirks as Darcy’s blush spreads all the way down to her ample chest. “So that’s the girl I dream about. But if you wanted to bring this whole maneater shtick to the bedroom once in a while, I wouldn’t say no.”
Just like that the blush is gone, replaced by an ice queen stare.
“Not until the third date, sergeant.”
“Hmm?”
Darcy gives him a gently shove and Bucky steps back allowing the elevator doors to close.
“Third date,” she repeats with a wink before she’s gone from his sight.
He hears a muffled “Jarvis” and then “Barracuda” starts playing again. He chuckles and leans against the closed doors with a love-struck sigh. He stills when he glances up and sees the other three staring at him holding up scorecards that aren’t nearly as complimentary as Darcy’s. He flips them the (metal) bird and practically floats back to his room; He’s got a date with Darcy Lewis.
#obviously inspired by the above scene in 2000's charlies angels#darcy lewis#tony stark#clint barton#steve rogers#bucky barnes#avengers#freudensteins-fics#ooh barracuda
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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 104
Chapter Summary - After the night out, Danielle and Emma have to organise things around a small hiccup.
Previous Chapter
Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)
Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.
authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.
All image rights belong to their owners
tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1
If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.
Danielle curled closer to Tom, refusing to acknowledge the morning light that was ebbing its way in the bedroom window.
'How's your head?' Tom sensed she had woken beside him.
'Fine, I told you, I didn't drink too much and I rehydrated when I came home.'
'I need to get up.' Tom went to move but Danielle curled in closer to him. 'Elle.'
'No, you're staying in bed with me.' she held onto him.
'You need to get up too.' He chuckled as he tried to untangle himself from her. 'Jesus, you're clingier than you look.'
'No.'
'Elle, you know I need to go for a run.' He ceased fighting to get loose and instead tilted her head up, kissing her softly. 'I need to stay fit for you.'
'I don't care what you look like.'
'I am sure you do a little.' he argued. 'I am sure part of you wants me to be able to lift you up by the ass and press you against a wall and have the strength to keep you there as I ravish you.'
'Don't need to run for that, that is strength, not endurance.' She pointed out, kissing him again.
'True, but the endurance is needed to keep you satisfied too.'
'I still don't want you to go.'
'Five weeks is going to be hard, isn't it?' Tom ceased playing and instead looked at her solemnly. 'I am going to miss you.'
'You'll be too busy.'
'I will be busy, but that does not mean I will not miss you.' He toyed with her hair. 'I was wondering if you would do something for me when I am away?'
'Sure.'
'I was thinking about getting the kitchen redone, the presses are falling off the hinges at this stage.'
'Good plan.' Danielle concurred. 'What do you need of me?'
'Well before we go, I want us to decide what we want and I will organise the delivery if you...'
'Play the good little housewife and wait in for the guys to come and fit it?' she hampered a guess.
Tom's eyes widened. 'I never meant to imply anything like that, I know you have your own work to do.' he stated immediately.
Danielle only laughed. 'I know, calm down you silly man.' she kissed him lovingly. 'We'll go look at them today and we will arrange a date for the guys to come fit it when I am back from the US, alright?' she kissed him again.
'Today? Are you sure, you said you were busy.'
'Not too busy to spend time with you. Are you sure you want me involved?'
Tom pulled her over in a manner that she was on top of him, her legs straddling him, though not in a sexual manner. 'Elle, this is our home now, ours; meaning mine and yours. And that means when there is a large decision to be made, such as the kitchen, a place you tend to enjoy spending a considerable amount of time in, then you have the right to a say in it.'
'I do little to quash gender stereotyping with my love of cooking and baking,' Danielle laughed.
'You don't often bake,' Tom frowned.
'Only because I would end up eating it all and that is something I try to avoid, I am something of a glutton if left to my own devices.'
'That I can understand. So, I am going to go for my run, you are going to get ready and when I am back and we are both ready, we'll head after lunch, alright?'
'Perfect.'
'That means getting off me and letting me get out of bed Elle.' Tom nudged her slightly to see if he could get her to move any bit.
'Nope.'
'You're terrible.'
*
'For all your talk, you'd think you would have gone for a longer run.' Danielle laughed before turning around, one look at the person looking at her made her force herself not to laugh. 'You look tired.'
'Fuck you. Why did you let me drink all that wine?' Emma groaned.
Danielle put on the kettle and readied a cup with coffee and sugar before going to the medicine cabinet and retrieving another rehydration sachet from the pile she had used herself the night before and making a drink. 'This first, then coffee and toast.'
'How are you so chirpy this morning?'
'I only drank three-quarters of a bottle, you polished off your bottle, the last quarter of mine and another half bottle.' Danielle explained, 'And I drank that stuff when I came home last night.' she pointed to the glass containing the powdered liquid in her friend's hand. 'You refused, you told me you would be fine.'
'What have I told you before about drunk me? Ignore her, she is a sadistic bitch that enjoys causing me pain and misery.' Emma downed the drink before Danielle took the glass and filled it again. 'That stuff tastes like pond water.'
'Works well, though.'
'Evidentially. Age is a factor in it too though.'
Danielle laughed. 'There are eight months between us.'
'Speaking of which, has Tom talked to you about your birthday yet?'
'My birthday is three months away.'
'But you'll be thirty.'
'That means nothing, I am not overly bothered by such things.' Danielle stated before giving her friend the coffee.
'Where is my idiot brother anyway?'
'Went for a run about fifteen minutes ago, I thought you were him when you came in.'
'That would have been a short run.'
'Hence why I said what I said.' Danielle handed her the lightly buttered toast. 'Do you remember us calling Jack last night?'
'Yes, I wasn't absolutely sloshed, thank you.' Emma scoffed. 'Today is going to be a long day.'
'Take a nice long shower, that will set you up better.'
'I am stealing your blue shirt, by the way.'
Danielle rolled her eyes. 'You have more of my clothes at this stage than I do.'
'Well, you're the big set person these days. Speaking of which, how is all that going?'
'Good, I have LA this week to do some sort of meeting.'
'That's fancy.'
'Yes, if only I didn't have to explain things to a boardroom full of men that I don't know and who are probably not too interested in what I have to say, only trying to dismiss me because what I am suggesting is going to cost them money.'
'Studios don't usually have an issue with spending money though, do they?'
'They spend them on huge salaries, fancy locations and big explosions no problem, spending them on "unnecessary backstage stuff" that they have a problem with.' Danielle explained.
'Fun.' Emma drained the last of her tea. 'What time did Jack say he would be here?'
'I think it is ten.' They looked at the clock on the wall. 'You better get ready.' Emma simply groaned and did as her friend suggested.
*
Danielle felt a pair of arms wrap around her. 'Guess who?' lips pressing to the side of her neck.
'Emma, I warned you your brother will be back in a minute.' Danielle sniggered as Tom growled. 'Hello, how was your run?'
'Alright, someone, and I am not pointing any fingers,' The pair looked at a somewhat guilty looking Mac nearby. 'Was busy trying to chase some little fancy thing in the park, though a few dogs were trying to get to her, I think she was in heat.'
'Mac, you're castrated, you're no use.' Danielle admonished. Mac gave a groan. 'and I don't think she wanted you for your personality, as incredible as it is.' Mac placed his head on his paws, appearing somewhat downtrodden.
Tom chuckled at the manner Danielle interacted with Mac. 'Is Emma awake do you know?'
'Yeah, she came down, feeling a little worse for wear and got tea and toast, she is having a shower now.'
'I'll grab mine.'
'Leave it a minute, she has to go into our room to steal my clothes.'
'I have to ask, do you ever steal hers, because all I ever hear is her stealing yours.'
'Yes, I tend to steal her jackets,' Tom frowned. 'Half the jackets here aren't even mine, they're hers.'
'I knew you would never buy a pink jacket.' Tom commented.
*
'Hey, Jack.' Jack looked somewhat startled as Danielle opened the door. 'She is nearly ready, the hairdryer is just turned off.'
'Good, Dad is in at quarter past eleven, with traffic and parking, I want us to be there on time.'
'What about your mum?'
'Some sort of "Women's only getaway" so he thought to come over here.'
'Good plan.' Danielle nodded. 'Tea?'
'Coffee, please.'
'That good a night?'
'I fell asleep on the couch and I am in bits today.'
'Not fun.' She handed him the mug of hot dark fluid.
'You two had fun, I hear.'
'Yeah, I...' Danielle stopped talking when Tom walked into the room looking worried. 'Hey, what's wrong?'
'That was the kennels, they overbooked and can't take Mac.' He held up his phone.
'But we leave tonight.' Danielle. 'What are we supposed to do with him? We don't have time to bring him to Suffolk.'
'We don't have a choice, do we?' Tom argued. 'I'll cancel the meeting.'
'We'll take him.' They turned to see Emma in the doorway, having stolen the dress Danielle had worn to the Kong premiere. 'Did you bring my shoes?' she asked her husband.
'They're in the car.' Jack replied, still somewhat shocked at his wife's declaration.
'Good. We'll take Mac, we are going to bring Bill to mum's anyway, we can drop him there.'
'That's perfect.' Tom sighed in relief. 'You don't mind?'
'It makes sense.' Jack smiled.
'Elle?' Emma looked at her friend.
Danielle said nothing for a moment. 'I have to be here for two days after I return to get everything sorted, but I did plan on going to Suffolk after that anyway. I need to sort something with the house and I did promise your mum I would redo her garden with her, so I planned on helping her then.'
'Sorted.' Emma smiled. 'By the way, you're not getting this back.' She grinned.
'I have nothing with you.'
'You stole my brother, I am stealing your clothes, fair deal.' Emma beamed. 'We better go.'
With only half a cup of coffee drank, Jack thanked his brother-in-law and friend before grabbing Mac's belongings as Emma and Mac made their way to the car and left for the airport.
'Poor Mac is pillar to post these days.'" Danielle sighed.
'I know, we'll be sorted again soon, once the filming is over, then he is here most of the time with us, or one of us.'
'I checked, I can bring him with me filming.'
'He'll love that.' Tom smiled, kissing her shoulder again after his sister and her husband had driven off. Danielle turned her head to kiss him again. 'We have a long day of work before we go.' she kissed him again. 'Shower together?' her answer was her guiding him upstairs by the hand.
*
Danielle looked around her as though to even move more than an inch would break something.
'Darling, relax.' Tom chuckled, taking the seat across from her and belting in. 'It's sturdier than you think.'
'I can see why people like to travel by them, though claustrophobia could be an issue for some I would imagine.'
'Yes, it would very much be likely to be magnified, in a tiny plane, thirty thousand feet in the air.' He agreed. 'That is not a concern for us though, is it?'
'No, I can think of several things to preoccupy me for the time it takes to get to Atlanta.' Tom's brow rose slightly, a smug grin coming to his face. 'Not that.'
'We'll see.'
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Uncle Donald gave her $800 in the 1980s
She let him invest it for her up until now
And she has now $45B
I hope you enjoyed your game as there are more to come but with more people as it enters TV for free of course on Channel Fox.
As always enjoy life and what it brings with the most care you can afford.
Don't let the economy, crumble, Uncle Donald, i hit up JP for some cash since Jesse stole mine from United Business Bank located in Oregon, Washington, and New Mexico.
I own Chase, bought it with Donald and sold to the US Government for a mint. Jesse could got in on this deal but he wanted to challenge me instead.
So I asked Uncle Donald for a cash loan, how much he could afford and what was in his wallet. $4000 roughly. So we split it between his 4 kids (the 4th being me) and I gave him back $200 for the rest of the day.
And we returned to the bank and I asked him how to deposit the money into Chase Manhattan because Denise had bought me clothes but I wanted to be a fashion designer and had altered them So she threw them all away in a rage of jealousy and heat.
Of course i started to cry so we went back across the street to McDonald's and we talked. He said "i have a surprise for you, lets get to the bank"
So we walked alllllll around the building, up and down and he talked to a man and got us inside all the back rooms. He said "i wanna buy it!" And he turned to me and asked "would you like to invest your $800 into my bank as an investor?"
I said "what about my clothes! She said i had to return the money or else i get none!"
"But who did she spend the money on?"
"Me and my brothers and and her!"
"Well don't you think Its time to invest in you and your fashion?" He asked for my $800 i had to pull from 4 different pockets and my sock as he taught me to split to beat pick pocketers. And handed it all. He handed me back $200 and I handed it back then he handed me a $5 from his breast pocket and t told me to keep it.
And began to walk to the counter to buy the bank.
I chased after him and put it in his left cost pocket and told him, 'well you know you bought me lunch so you keep it"
I pulled it from his pocket to produce proof I had already given it and he couldn't give it back and then stuffed it back in deep, all the way i nearly ripped his shoulder off for which I promptly apologized, jumped on the counter and rubbed his soreness off and jumped down.
And he started to cry a little bashful at first then a full sob. And I tried to console him and Robby appeared with a trailing line of toilet paper so his silk hanky wouldn't be soiled with snot.
He thanked him and became startled and asked if he wanted in on the investment.
Robby said, "i might but i need to talk to you, I belong to this boarding school ran by this might be soon white bigger as he calls himself, inspired by her and taken completely out of context"
"Michael Jackson" interjected our new found Uncle Donald. "Come let's sit"
We moved to the side of the spacious lobby to a small table accompanied by two plus club chairs.
He and i talked about how neat it would be to have chaise chairs in Chase bank.
"Well, her mom is abusive, mostly about money so i would like to take control of her stock with her permission"
"Yes! I do! And i will wanna get married!" I jumped with my fist in the air and pushed against the chair like a standing push up and stood
....
"Her sit. First I would like to talk to you as an investor. I am run by the boarding house and they teach us things like to steal and bring back to get 'rewards' much often things less than they are worth like a stick of gum for $2 when I can get a whole pack for 20 cents. Uh oh, here he comes"
"Im about to invest into this bank with these two kids you got something you wanna say to me?" Instead of waiting for a reply, uncle Donald got up and briskly walked to the counter, asking to return to a different room, promptly and away from Mr Jackson whom was still solidly black (he doesn't have vitaligo its just bleached).
And we entered a nearly empty office and he turned fiercely, angry even, "this will be your office where you will WORK"
...
"Its okay! We are still friends!" I climbed into the chair then up onto the desk "this is where I will sit"
"Well close your legs and sit like a lady, like this hand me your foot, no don't take off your shoe"
"Well I didn't want to ruin you! Your suit is NICE!!"
And he moved my foot and crossed my ankles and patted my knee and said "or you cross at here"
I took my ankle to my knee "no not like that, that's like a man. Knee to knee"
"Oh like this?" I squeezed my knees together
Robby laughed and Uncle Donald looked flustered
"Oh i know I know cross at my knees, you need to explain better!" I patted his shoulder. In the 80s it was okay to touch, at least for a child.
"I said that first!"
"Oh! I interrupt!"
"No apologize" Robby groaned
"I apologize for interrupting"
"For?" Asked Donald "you can't tell her that Because ---"
"No he could I get misinformation that way"
"Except when I'm being scolded and she knows the truth" said Robby.
Tune in next week for another Miss Adventure of one Wild Single Mom's Childhood!
I had 48 cents. Robby had put in 2500 front Hayes then 1500 each from Mark and Mike Andrews which he had not signed and they got rejected. Yet Jesse notified me of this, restricted my remote deposit privileges and now i am to notify the Sheriff of Hays County, Austin, Texas that the money is kept hidden in the tax and revenue accounts of his great county. And to open an investigation which he will pretend he did and then not. So i get his hush money as well as the other two and the $15B JP Dejoria stupidly just paid me because i Told Jesse to tell his father in law that Jesse is a stupid piece of shit which he didn't.
And of course I will invest in schools across the nation, installing playgrounds at any schools that do not have them, including intermediate, Jr high, middle, High and etc.. And may be finally lockers at least were I'm centrally located and/or where i want to be, namely at high schools at least.
Because that is what I want to do. Make people happy in the funniest ways possible.
And if there is any left I want to reinvest at the parks i originally invested in, initially, to make them better snd brighter, starting at the older to the newer.
I want the world to seem happier and brighter and in the case of schools at least around here once they hit 7th grade (middle school) they change schools to those that no longer have lockers or desks to put things in, 7 or more teachers to please instead of one or two they spend all day with, like a parent who gives love and kindness and retribution, they go through puberty which in itself is a chore. Then the kids riot. I've seen it in small schools and i know it happens in big ones. 20 in one week at the beginning of school less than a mile from my house where i can hear the school bell.
And so they need a place to sleep their weary heads like the shoulder of an old friend instead of weeping a soul they can no longer call their own.
The secrets i have included here broke my heart to where it actually stopped over and over.
Instead of asking what was wrong, Mr Moneybags Jesse sent me to the doctor alone. -.-
He could have provided me with what i needed like I provided and protected him from Ms Dejoria and Mark Hindberg, Afghanistan and Iraq, which I will no longer do.
He is the one that encouraged Michael Jackson to pickpocket the slaves he had created.
Yes Michael Jackson is Wacko, is Him and is burning in Hell because I killed him with my own pistol Jesse had stolen from a cop, altered and resold to himself at a cheaper price than the way over inflated price he created to create a deficit in his company to receive a refund from the US government's IRS Department in the amount of $8,000 instead of paying the $1M he owed.
I plead guilty before a judge and Uncle Donald, Mrs Katherine Jackson, the Anne my 4 year old daughter that Michael Jackson attempted to rape in front of me, as well as Robby, my true love and of course Sunny and Jesse James himself whom gave me the gun.
Then, before then President Barack Obama, i was exonerated and pardoned completely without the possibility of parole or any other misconceptions that would be included with self defense manslaughter.
This week total I have arrested a total of 19 men and women thanks to the CIA as an unpaid civilian.
That would guarantee me Presidentship of one really great country, now, wouldn't it?
Thanks. And not to be repeated: No more games. Only truth.
Until next time my fair weather friends!
Now! Let's grab the bookie!!! Snag! You're in jail. What did ya know, Mike Andrews, I knew all along that Mark Hindberg was FBI. Why didn't you think that?
Moving along, hi JP. How are you? No one cares. Good thing you trusted into your rapist daughter who was married to a true hero whom puts up with my shit even after we name him Mr Vomit cause I make him so scared he actually vomits like I did tonight (that's included. No more scare, only truth)
Oh yes, JP, you have already been arrested and so you know -- you have no guns with you, right? Alexis Dejoria is no rapist, she's actually an excellent FBI agent whom hates her dad and is included in any exonerations I may have to hand out butbat my leisurely pace, because she actually didn't rape anybody!
Also the US government will pay your wages as you did file a lawsuit this very week by signing up with Namus.gov like we all did.
She like me, was an unpaid civilian whom ran into luck. While she's smart, she's not smart like me. Thus she's the FBI vs me who is CIA and can work against the world in a millisecond as i usually do and have in Afghanistan and Iraq where i protected many NHRA members during their tours in the US Military while they served with Jesse James and my little brother and were even kidnapped thanks to Matt Hagan's temper tantrum and Jesse James refusal to listen to command. Eventually I saved them from that too in a day and 6 hours after leaving base. They were involuntary bound and gagged and beaten within 20 minutes of their capture. Within the next 20 when I was finally told of their status they were rescued by Tony Schumacher and his team.
And now i have saved the NHRA from being beaten and raped and tortured. My time to continue here at home is not wasted,
I love you all and thank you very much for listening...
And now i have something to say about Jesse since i made him puke from a lie via email Because he made me mad for being a Dick douchebag and not caring enough about me, not wrecking his motorcycle and then lying to make me feel bad and stupider than ever although I saw the wreck and my being a girl, up and President running, couldn't stop to rescue or assist a man on his feet whom had already picked up his bike after a wipe out and the trailer passed me up to show me he would assist because forgive those trespassers as we trespass ourselves and i care that he could really been hurt. That may be a fault of mine but it is called Grace and not salvation which is being my daughter reincarnated into a goat in Iraq to keep everyone safe because Jesse is a dumb dumb sometimes and Matt Hagan prefers truth over himself, sometimes. Like being in love with a goat of my daughter's soul, in Iraq. (I bet he fucked her, too. Bestiality freak. Not my business tho, nor yours. But still, let's laugh instead of poking fun at his misadventures. It is funny, yo!)
Jesse cared about the goat so much he listened to her over every one, even me. Because he believed she was closer to God where he needed to be..
I changed his life once in Alabama and several times then, over and over, any time that need be.
But finally for this one time he trusted somebody else and learned to love as much as he could, the soul inside of him.
So God bless to all of the two headed creatures we will see wandering around the backs of people at the NHRA in the future to come. Including even on me.
I'm Mrs Cougar cause of my fingernails and my desire to be with someone young to keep me fresh and Alive -- not by his blood byt by the life he gives me. And he will be Mr Snake the one who slithers up beside me only for love while I labor in the grass kicking myself for what i might have done but not for what i might have missed out on because I was there the whole time thinking and feeling and frolicking through the grass, same as me.
And of course my tattoo will be scary cause the world as I know it, very much can be.
And you can thank me for the past or you can think about the future and beyond!!!
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A Kingdom For a Book: Part 2
I’m having way too much fun with this idea...
With one failed attempt under their belt, they end up having lunch in Chinatown before heading back to the hotel to regroup and debrief. Tsuna and Gokudera end up sitting on one bed, Gokudera nose deep in a laptop, while Yamamoto leans back on another, and Ryohei slumps the wrong way round in a chair.
“I see why the Ninth didn’t want us to come here,” Yamamoto says. “Do you think the owner knew who we were?”
Tsuna shook his head. “No, I think he would have treated us that way even if we weren’t Vongola. There was something about that shop...it just felt wrong.”
Ryohei frowns. “That’s strange to the extreme. This could be challenging.”
Gokudera is nodding, digging up the research he’d been tinkering with even before they arrived.
“Okay, so that building? It’s been there since the 1700’s,” he explains. “That’s when Soho was built up for the aristocracy, and the book shop’s been around since then. Which is pretty damn impressive considering the wealthy all more of less fled mid 1800’s when there was a cholera outbreak and the neighbourhood took a serious dive. I don’t think there’s a lot of business in London that have been in the same building that long, and if they did, they’re a lot more successful. At this point, A.Z.Fell & Co should be a historic monument or tourist attraction just due to it’s existence, but it’s only reputation-”
At this he tosses his hands up in the air in disbelief.
“-Is a handful of websites for rare book dealers bemoaning it’s existence! There’s a 3000 word essay on here that’s just analysing the opening times! I’ve never seen a white noise spot as bad as this outside of the mafia! It shouldn’t even be possible without mist flames!”
“Are we sure they’re not?” Yamamoto asks, head tilting.
Tsuna shakes his head.
“No,” he insists. “I don’t know what it was about that building, but flames weren’t involved. Besides, it’s too obvious in its refusal to sell.”
Everyone gives a slow nod at that, and Tsuna bites his lip.
“What we need it witness accounts,” he says. “We need to know what doesn’t work.”
This quickly results in Gokudera frantically tapping on his laptop again and setting up a video call with Dino in Italy. When he learns where they are, his face flinches – as if he’s just watched a man belly flop from a high dive.
“Reborn sent you where?” he asks. “The Ninth can’t possibly have approved that.”
“He wasn’t happy about it,” Tsuna admits. “But...it’s Reborn. You don’t really tell him no.”
Dino grimaces. “I feel for you little bro. I wish I could help, but I’ve never tried my luck against the devil of Soho.
“The devil of Soho?” the four repeat, and Dino chuckles.
“Oh, it’s kind of an in-joke among people who’ve tried,” he explains. “The shop is on a crossroad, and someone one suggested you’d probably have to sell your soul in exchange for a book from A.Z. Fell, and it kind of caught on. Plus, according to Christianity, devils or demons are supposed to be fallen angels, and they guy is called ‘Fell,’ so...”
Tsuna guesses it’s probably funnier for the Italians, because Gokudera’s openly cackling. Although that said, Ryohei is also grinning, so maybe he’s a fan of the crossroads story. The boxer does often enjoy American music…
“You might as well give selling your soul a shot though,” Dino continues. “Because I don’t have the slightest clue what else would work.”
Yamamoto frowns, leaning back in a stretch that almost looks painful.
“If we can’t buy a book, can we just buy out the shop?” he asks Dino, and Gokudera brightens.
“The Baseball Idiot has a point. I mean, this is Soho, and that shop can’t be making enough to stay in business. Can’t we just buy the building, or bribe the owner?”
“You really think nobody ever thought of that?” Dino asks, eyebrows raising. “The Fell family are loaded; they own that building, and they’ve never accepted a single offer.”
“Then we’ll make it a really good one. Reborn said our credit limit was unlimited for this-”
“Ten years ago Mr. Fell was offered five times what the building was worth and he didn’t even think it over” Dino interrupts. “And if you think you can scare him out, think again. People have tried everything from hiking his electric bills to bribing the council to shut him down for health reasons. I hear the building was even set on fire once. Nothing sticks, and it always comes back round to whoever tried their luck. An awful lot of enforcers change careers after a run in with A.Z. Fell.”
Dino sounds a little bitter by the end, and Tsuna frowns.
“That sounds a little personal,” he says. “Did Reborn try and make you go?”
His self proclaimed older brother suddenly finds it very hard to meet his eyes.
“No, but let’s just say I have it on good authority that one of the reasons my family ended up in such dire financial straights is because my grandfather tried to ah...convince Mr. Fell to move into a building owned by my family so he could have regular access to his collection,” Dino says. “A week later, there’s a freak accident with our accountant’s computer systems that sees 60% of our assets frozen while a record of all our recent financial dealings was sent first class to the local police department. By the time we cleared it up the money was gone.”
Gokudera does a full body flinch.
“How-”
“I don’t know. And I don’t want to know” Dino tells him. “Some of those financials weren’t even supposed to have a paper trail. When my negotiation trial came up, I told Reborn I wasn’t setting foot in that shop. That I’d try and negotiate peace in Korea before I went to Soho.”
Yamamoto whistles, and Tsuna’s optimism sinks even more.
“Where’d you end up?” Tsuna asks.
“Guinea-Bissau,” Dino says. “Came out of it with only two bullets wounds too.”
“...Thats...good?” Tsuna offers, frantically trying to remember exactly where on a map that was, and Dino shrugs.
“Better than Xanxus any way” he offers. “He was lucky to get out intact.”
Yamamoto immediately lights up. “Oh yeah. The Ninth said he’d tried.”
“Lets call the Varia, to the extreme!” Ryohei agrees.
“Not sure how useful he’ll be,” Dino warns as they say goodbye. “His tactics weren’t really compatible with you.”
That’s hardly news to Tsuna, but a list of what definitely wont work is better than no list at all at this point. Yamamoto is already punching in Squalo’s number.
---
Two minutes later, Tsuna is wondering how far he can be from a video screen without appearing offensive, because Xanxus is glaring like he wants to reach through the computer and strangle Tsuna for the crime of bothering him.
Which, to be fair is Xanxus’s general mode of being, but Tsuna hasn’t survived this long by getting complacent. Given his life, it’s not impossible Xanxus has figured out how to do it.
At least the Varia commander is taking his question seriously – the glare had almost vanished when Yamamoto had explained just where they were.
“Whatever you do, don’t steal one” Xanxus warns when Yamamoto finishes up, and Tsuna finds himself leaning forward.
“You stole one?” he says. “I thought the requirement was legal purchase.”
“I was getting desperate!” Xanxus snarls, almost defensively. “Fell-Trash is impossible to reason with. Not that it did me any good. Cost me three months, my body weight in pride and a Lightning Guardian.”
At that Tsuna pauses, and glances to the corner of the screen where he can see Xanxus’s guardians, Levi included, not-so-subtly listening in. Xanxus rolls his eyes.
“Parasol-Trash is number 2” he tells him. “Huge improvement over Belias, I assure you. Idiot walked out with some old folio under his jacket, figuring we could negotiate after it was in our hands. To this day, I have no clue what happened to him, but that folio was on display in the window next morning and Fell’s creepy ass boyfriend was wearing Belias’s shades when we walked in.”
“Boyfriend?” Yamamoto asks, and Xanxus chuckles.
“Oh trust me Trash, you’ll know him when you see him.”
In the background Lussuria is fanning himself with a hand, while Squalo is glowering and inching closer to the screen. Tsuna ignores both of them.
“You didn’t try to find out what happened?” he questions, and Xanxus glares.
“Of course I fucking did!” he snaps. “Even had the lightning member’s we brought along tried to put on the squeeze, but both of them are mental steel traps. If anything, threats just amuse them. Two of Belias’s closest tried physical violence – the boyfriend has this classic car, beautiful piece of machinery; I’ll give him that – smashed out every window and made it clear we were coming back to finish the job. Car like that can’t be easy or cheap to fix.”
“It didn’t work?” Gokudera asks, and Xanxus shakes his head.
The trash left the hotel to get drinks, next thing I know the shark trash is getting a call from the hospital about them.”
The Varia boss jerks his head back, and Squalo freezes for a second, before slinking up to his boss, not even pretending to be subtle in his approach anymore.
“Were they still alive?” Tsuna asks, not sure if he wants to know. Xanxus merely glares at Squalo, who reacts as though it pains him to answer.
“Voi, they lived,” he says. “Looked like they’d been run over by that stupid car a couple hundred times, but they lived. Not that it mattered to us, both of them up and joined a monastery in New Zealand the second they were released!”
Yamamoto frowns. “New Zealand? When you abandon your old life to join a monastery, don’t you usually got to somewhere like Tibet or something?”
“Voi, according to them, they picked New Zealand because there aren’t any snakes there,” Squalo snarled. “Don’t ask me why, never had a problem with them before.”
“Yeah, and that car come morning?” Xanxus adds. “Perfect. Condition. After that, I cut my losses while I still had something to lose.”
“It was their own fault for making compensation jokes about the darling’s car!” Lussuria defends from the back, and Xanxus throws a wine glass in his direction.
The Varia side of the call inevitably descends into a brawl, and little advice is coming. All Tsuna’s managed to gather is, stay legal, screaming is pointless, and don’t threaten his associates or their possessions.
Tsuna silently vows that Gokudera must never enter that building unaccompanied.
Also, before the screen cut off completely, Lussuria popped onto the screen with one final titbit.
“Oh, one more thing. Don’t flirt with the boyfriend,” he says with Bel half in a headlock and the screen on it’s side. “Crowley-darling seems to think it’s funny, but it ticks Mr. Fell off no end. Not sure how he did it, but I got food poisoning whenever I ate out the rest of the time we were there. Ciao!”
The screen immediately goes black, and as a group, Tsuna, Gokudera and Ryohei all glance in Yamamoto’s direction. The teen immediately starts pouting.
“Why are you all looking at me?” he whines.
“Because out of everyone in this room who would think it would be funny, you’re the only one who’d actually try his luck, Baseball Idiot,” Gokudera snaps, and Yamamoto’s lip quirks, point taken. After so much time hanging around Squalo and Reborn, Yamamoto’s baseline for appropriate behaviour and etiquette will never recover – not that there was ever much to save, if Tsuna’s being entirely honest.
In the end, after looking at a spreadsheet of the opening hours Gokudera has on hand, they decide to hold off this evening, and try again in the 40 minute window that there should be just before lunch.
Who knows, maybe Mr. Fell will be more agreeable after he’s eaten?
---
One more part, and think it’ll be ready to migrate to AO3...
#Fanfiction#Fanfic#Katekyo Hitman Reborn Fanfiction#KHR Fanfic#Good Omens#Katekyo hitman reborn#Good Omens fanfiction#crossover#A Kingdom For a Book#KHR
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A Stranger’s Stress
Flash fiction Friday! :D Remember way back when I said A Stranger’s Kindness was a stand alone? And then went and made a bunch of discount continuations? We’re at it again folks! I hope you enjoy another day with the stranger and the kid (and aren’t getting sick of them yet <u<;;)! Feedback is appreciated ^u^
Thanks again for organising and hosting @cawolters!
Prompt: We Are Not Alone
Words: 1499 orz
Previous parts: 1, 2, 3
----------
Sometimes you have a bad day. Just a heaping pile of unwanted events. You get up, three new rejection letters. You boil the kettle and the milk’s gone bad even though you know you only bought it last week. Your awful bitter coffee spills down your shirt – your favourite, naturally – after you trip over a toy that you specifically remember having asked the night before that it be put away. There’s a notice that the rates are going up again and now the window’s broken thanks to a bored kid losing control of a ball. Thoughts nag at you that the kid should be in school or something. You know this but you don’t know it it’s safe yet and you haven’t worked out a cover for why you have a kid who, for some reason, has missed a lot of class time. No pressure but if you botch up, it’s yours and the kid’s necks on the chopping block but how are you supposed to be able to work that out and maintain your late grandmother’s cottage and look after Sudden Child and find a job and those rejection letters aren’t going to read themselves and that takes time. You know, just your run of the mill stuff. It might just be me. It seems unlikely that these experiences are universally shared. Although, I am sure that a lot of people have been in a similar situation as me now, kneeling over broken glass, duct taping it out of the carpet. I guess you can say I’ve been a little … tense lately.
The kid’s settled in well. His nightmares haven’t been so bad since we put up those stars. He’s really taken to gardening as well which, I’ll never admit out loud, is somewhat touching. We haven’t heard anything from his folks or the police. It should be singing and smooth sailing, but I feel paranoid. Like disaster is looming over us while we carry on, oblivious. There’s no way it was that easy. It’s in every story. The instant the villains..? heroes..? Characters, breath a sigh of relief, crunch! Beartrap. I’m serious about schooling as well. I’ve got to sort it out, I want to, bit damn if it’s not nauseating to think he might be recognised.
“I’m really sorry.” He’s not as whistley now his front teeth have grown back in. Unfortunate buck teeth until the rest of him catches up. He’s been hovering – figuratively, those wings are still too small to be more than decoration yet – the entire time I’ve been cleaning. Of course I’m not letting a seven year old pick up glass. How stupid do you think I am?
“I know. It’s fine.” I think I’ve got all the pieces. Another tape canvas to be sure.
“I tried to stop it, but it was too fast.” His fingers worry the fraying hem of his shirt. I’ll have to get him new clothes again soon. More money.
“Look kid, accidents happen. It sucks that the window broke, but no one was hurt. That’s what matters. Now you know to be more careful next time. You can help me put the new panes in when I get them. Fair?”
He nods eagerly, brightening despite my frank tone. At least he’s gotten used to that.
I get up, bones creaking in protest. I feel old. Tired. It was lucky I didn’t break my ankle on that damn toy. Kid follows me to the kitchen. Might as well get a start on lunch. Paper catches my eye when I get the bread from the pantry. The calendar month is wrong already. Where has all the time gone?
“Could you fix the calendar?” Probably better to get that sorted before I forget again.
“Yep!” He’s as zealous as ever. Why do kids love doing all those little mundane things? Y’know, pushing crossing buttons, taking tickets from the deli dispenser, pulling sticky note sheets off, that sort of thing. Weird little goblins.
“Guess what!”
“What?”
“It’s my birthday month!” He thrashes his tail, nearly sending the trashcan flying in his excitement.
Already? I don’t let my hands slow. One small act of keeping it together. My mind races on. Stars above. The window wasn’t enough? I have to get him something, obviously, kids deserve birthday presents. And a cake. Would he want a party? How am I supposed to facilitate a party of one?? I’ll run out of money soon. I thought this would be a whole ‘new leaf’ situation. But if I keep getting rejections, I’m going to have to start stealing again. At least it’ll get those guys off my back. What about giving the kid a decent role model? I can’t give him much, but I thought I could do that for him. If I go back to my expertise and get caught, that’s it. All anyone will hear is that some crazed thief kidnapped a little boy. He’ll get shoved straight back into their hands no questions. A pat on the back to his rescuers and I rot. I can’t let that happen. I’m trapped. I’ve never been trapped before. Not like this.
He’s still waiting for a response. The enthusiasm draining from him the longer I delay.
“You… You’re not cancelling my birthday, right? I’m really, reaalllyyy sorry about the window..”
“ENOUGH ABOUT THE DAMN WINDOW!” I regret it immediately. He cowers, stumbling over apologies.
A second to breath.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” This time, I do stop. Giving him my full attention, crouching to look him in the eye. “I’m not mad about the window. I told you, it’s fine. I was… feeling stressed and snapped. It was wrong for me to take out my feelings on you. Can you forgive me?”
He pauses. This is not something he’s gotten used to. I wonder how many time’s he’s been given an apology. He considers my words, then nods.
“I forgive you.”
“Thank you.” I finish up the sandwiches. “What do you want for your birthday?”
“Um!” Another pause. Faux thought. He already knows what he wants. “Can we go fishing? I’ve always wanted to try!”
“Fishing?” That wasn’t what I expected.
“Yeah! You know, on a boat, catching fish with strings! You’ve got a boat, right?”
“What? Why do you think I have a boat?”
“Well, you do live near the water and, you know, you kinda have lots of things that maybe you shouldn’t have…” Not wanting to commit to the accusation, he trailed off, twiddling his thumbs.
“Do you think I’ve stolen a boat?”
“Mayybee…”
“Do you know how hard that would be? You can’t just decide to acquire a boat for the fun of it. You have to sell those things.”
“Is that a no..?”
I sigh. I don’t fish but it is his birthday. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises but I’ll try.”
“Really!?” Stars, his eyes shone. “Thank you!” He launched a hug at me. Kids.
“Okay. That’s enough. Take your lunch and off with you. Go do whatever it is gremlins do. I’ve got a call to make.”
He gave a final squeeze before running off, giggling. I flip open my phone, plugging in the one person who may be able to help. She answers on the third ring.
“Hey Grace, it’s me.”
Quiet laughter. “I know who you are dummy. Caller ID.”
“Right. Uh, you remember Grandpa’s old boat?”
“The one Gran left me? Yeah. Hard to forget when I can see it now.”
“How would you feel about going fishing with me and someone?”
“You hate fishing.” There’s a note of accusation in her voice. I hope this is the right decision.
“I do. It’s cruel and unnecessary. But that’s a rant for another day. See, there’s this kid…”
“What kid? Why do you know a kid?” She doesn’t leave room for an answer, barrelling on. “Wait! I swear to god, if you tell me you stole a kid –“
“First of all, there are a lot of unfair accusations going around today. Second, I’m deeply offended that you think the only way I’d know a kid is through dishonest means. Third, you’re right, I did.”
“What the actual – actually, never mind. Two minutes then I’m calling the cops.
“The long and short, he’s Tainted and his parents were pretty much torturing him. I’m trying to help him, I swear.”
Grace was silent for a long moment. We’ve had our differences. Bridges a patchwork of scorches and repairs. I don’t know how she will respond but I hope she can at least sympathise. She was always the one to bring home injured animals when we were young. If she wants to cut ties after this, that’s fair. As long as she doesn’t rat me out, it’ll be okay. Finally, she sighs.
“That sounds like the sort of dumb thing you would do. Alright. What can I do to help?”
I guess we aren’t as alone as I thought.
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Tag list
@cawolters, @inkovert, @snobbysnekboi, @kainablue, and @i-rove-rock-n-roll
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Sorry if this one isn’t at my usual quality. My brain’s kinda fried today :T Hopefully things’ll be running smoothly again next week ^u^
#writing#Flash Fiction Friday#fff21#my story#original story#short story#slice of life#writblr#A Stranger's collection
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Hello there! I just want to say thanks for writing swanqueen they are my otp besides xena and gabby. Just 2 things, i hope that you love japanese cause theres a show called Miss sherlock!! Plz go and give it a try! First time where sherlock and watson are female!!! Its AMAZING!! And lastly a prompt if you can. Drill Sargent regina and recruit emma swan! Almost like officer and a gentleman. PLZ PLZ PLZ!!! Or rival news reporters! THANK YOU AGAIN FOR WRITING IN THIS FANDOM!! Sooooo APPRICIATED 😊
Hey there ;) I’veheard of the show, but I haven’t watched it. Thanks for the rec! I’m notexactly buoyant on free time these days but I’ll try to find a page that allowsme to watch it or something Xd As for your prompts… I decided to do a small nodto a story I eventually took down and do the rival news reporters version of itall Xd I hope you like it and thanks for the prompt
The small caféwas bathed in tranquil murmurs, the vague sounds of people speaking quietlyover coffee mugs a barely-there whisper that didn’t disturb Emma as she kept onstealing glances at her watch, a satisfied smirk on her lips and her notebookin front of her in where haphazardly taken notes stared back at her in a messyhandwriting that very few people could truly understand.
She hadbeen told more often than not that she shouldn’t try to make notes via paper; theblue ink against thin white a problem if she didn’t put them on a screen thesecond she was able to, but the blonde refused to let go of the paper and ink,the aesthetic of it all pleasant to her.
Takinganother sip of her drink as she stole yet another glance at her watch and thehectic whirlwind that waited for her outside of the small café she almostsighed at the office building that rose just in front of the smallestablishment. Humming, Emma rose her brow in anticipation as the door of thecafé swung open, a brunette impeccably dressed walking in with nothing but fireon her eyes.
Emma had purposelypicked the table she knew would be the one new eyes would zero in the secondthey entered into the café but she still feigned surprise as she kept on takingher coffee -the amount of sugar she had previously put there for it to bedrinkable a detail she wasn’t willing to share- while her free hand drummed atuneless staccato at the table’s surface, next to the notebook in where the blueink felt much more vibrant than before.
“Miss Swan.”
The fewpatrons that were seated around glanced up at the icy tone, filled with barelycontained anger despite Regina’s intents of keeping it at bay but they didn’tdo more than that. Many of them were already familiar to the two women meetingsin that same place and knew that there was nothing they could truly do as the newcomerapproached the table, hands into fists and her high-heeled cladded feetmirroring the staccato the blonde was drumming on the table, satisfied smirkwidening just enough for the standing woman to growl at.
From thecorner of her eyes Emma saw Ruby sighing deeply; the waitress that had turnedinto her friend over the last year she had spent working on the Daily Mirrorrising a brow of her own and mouthing a question she couldn’t but chuckle at.
“What did you do?”
ReginaMills, reporter extraordinaire and Emma’s superior in every shape of form if itwasn’t by the fact that any possibility of being promoted was thin at best dueto the harsh times the newspaper was fairing, stopped an inch away from theedge of the table, brown eyes smoldering and murderous.
Rising her cupa little bit higher and giving the brunette a lopsided smile as she tilted herhead a little to the left, Emma hummed, as if she hadn’t known the woman would walkinto the place at that hour.
“Hi Regina.”Free hand finally stilling over the notebook, obvious enough that the brunette’seyes lowered enough to address it, the blonde hummed as she took a sip of heralmost empty mug, quickly placing it next to the scribbled words. “Is your lunchhour already? Funny how time works.”
At anyother time, the brunette would probably have answered to that, a scathinganswer that would have made Emma reply with one of her own as Ruby groanedbehind the counter, the words “just fuckalready” coming out in not so quiet whispers that both reporters wouldfeign total deafness to. But this time was different: Emma knew it, Regina knewit and so the brunette shook her head eliciting her brown locks to shudderbefore falling back into place as she pursed her red lips, the colorcomplimenting the blouse she wore in a way Emma refused to think about. Noteven when, she noted after a quick glance, the usual three top buttons were unmade.Which was, she suspected, the only detail the always proper woman standing infront of her, allowed herself as a way to break the code the even sterner CoraMills had first used when she had opened the newspaper.
Her thoughtswere derailed as the brunette, not even glancing around to any of the patronsor Ruby for that matter, put both of her hands at the table’s surface,shoulders square and fixed as she bared her teeth, grinding her words andinfusing her voice with the anger that burnt on her pupils.
“How.” She began,and Emma felt her smile widening, her own pride shinning through in thedeliberate way she rose her chin, exposing her neck and not missing for amoment the way Regina’s eyes fell to it for a moment, a second that had herclutching the mug’s handle. A detail that, thankfully, Regina seemed to miss asshe glanced back, lips curling. “I’ve tried to get Spencer talk to me for thepast month.” She threw an accusatory finger at Emma’s notebook and, for amoment, the blonde was almost surprised Regina’s incinerating tone didn’t setit on fire. “How did you do it?”
And thereit was. Notebook intact and Spencer’s name on her lips Regina rose to her fullheight -and then some thanks to the high-heels- and let her arms fall at bothsides of her torso, hands still twitching, not quite curled but not relaxedeither. She looked even more riled up that Emma had expected her to be and, forthat, she chuckled and made a sign to Ruby, the one she knew would make thelanky woman sigh deeply before readying Regina’s usual as the patrons kept on eavesdropping.Some of them even with interest going beyond the usual fight, the surnameRegina had so carelessly dropped a powerful one after all.
Noteveryday one got to have a private interview with the corrupt lawyer that hadbeen discovered to be working with Rupert Gold, the two men one of the mostpowerful in the entire town and certainly the direct culprits of huge sums ofmoney always ending up in the hands of the smaller mafia bosses Gold allowed toexist around his own empire. Not everyday one got to make a deal with the devileither, but Emma had been ready for both. Which was something she wasn’t goingto disclose in the middle of the café, the fact that she was enjoying all ofthis a little too much not clouding her mind to that degree.
Preciselybecause of that and waiting until Ruby approached them with a glare on her own eyes, the blonde smiled andnodded as the waitress put Regina’s own coffee in front of the older woman, thelook that granted her enough to turn everyone into ashes.
Which wassomething that Ruby almost did as she bite down on her bottom lip, shaking herhead and turning, pointedly glancing at Emma before backing away once more.
One ofthese days the waitress was going to kill Emma for her antics. But not today.
Feigning nonchalanceand picking the notebook before fanning herself with it, the blonde kept on lookingat Regina, at the untouched coffee and the brunette’s ire.
“I have myways.”
And shedid, she truly did. For every epithet Regina kept using with her every timethey were seated in front of each other, trying to come up with ways of writingnews in this small town, the brunette knew by then that she had ways, that shehad resources, and she planned on showing them all to the brunette. (If the womanallowed her that, not like Emma would ever admit that Ruby’s pleas regardingthat them both needed to bang had any real base)
Jawtightening, the brunette in question growled, the ring she always had danglingfrom her neck catching the light and winking as she ran a hand through herhair.
“Miss Swan,I’m not joking.”
Emma pursedher lips and put the notebook back in the table, placing it closer to thebrunette.
She had herways and was too stubborn, just like Regina was too proud but despite her needto gloat she was also fair. And she knew that Regina needed the exclusive morethan she did after Emma had managed to snatch the coveted interview with ReulGhorm a few weeks ago in retaliation for Regina managing to be the first whotalked with Sheriff Nolan after the first rumors regarding Spencer and Gold’spartnership had made to the public.
Eyesnarrowing and refusing to acknowledge the surprised look on Regina’s eyes, theblonde stood and picked up her red leather jacket with one swift move. She wasn’tgoing to stay and give answers she wasn’t ready to answer.
“Enjoy thereading.” She called just as she rushed past the older woman. “Every squigglyline that will look like an “m” is an “s”, just so you know.”
Yes, Reginawas going to ask for her head, she thought as she heard her surname beingcalled again, every patron gaping at her as she opened and closed the door ofthe café, but she didn’t mind it. Not too much. Not when she knew Regina wouldprobably do something equally big in order to make her be the one who enteredinto the café with anger and surprise and she truly lived for those moments.
Perhaps,she wondered as she crossed the street, she should truly think on Ruby’s ideas.But not today.
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whippity woo, it’s chapter 2
you can read it down there too if you’d prefer that
An anachronism is something that doesn't belong to its place or time. To Catra, that definition was redundant. A time was as much of a place as the alley she smoked in or the library she worked at. The only difference was that you couldn't choose your place in time. So really, an anachronism was something alien to its environment. Then again, there wasn't a point in getting worked up over stuff like that. She could always look away from the word-a-day calendar on the principal’s desk. But she was in trouble, and it would be a lot harder to look him in the eye when he scolded her. So she kept her head down, and remained critical of the calendar.
“Ms. Driluth,” He began drawled, “Do you know why you’re here right now?” She shrugged. It could have been anything, although three specific things stood out: The money she stole from Alicia Jordan, the fight with Iggy’s girlfriend, or her foster dad's drug ring. She wasn't sure how any of those had made their way to her principal, but it didn't matter. She was handling things.
The principal sighed. He leaned forward, and picked up a sheet of paper from his desk.
“Are you aware of your grades?” She shook her head. “Ah. Allow me to read them to you. In English, a C. In Algebra, a D. In Biology, an F. In History, a C. In Spanish-” He sighed, and set down the paper. “Do I need to continue?”
“Any A’s?”
“No.”
“Damn, I was really hoping to keep my 4.0 going strong,” She mused sarcastically. The principal did not appear amused.
“This is no laughing matter, Ms. Driluth. If you can't bring your grades up, you’ll be suspended.”
“I never understood the point of suspension,” She said, finally raising her head. “I’m doing bad in school so I don't have to come? What kind of sense does that make? Not that I’m complaining,” She added, “I don't get it is all.” The principal was not amused. His eyes remained focused on Catra, his brows furrowed and his jowls pinched into a frown.
“Don't change the subject.”
“I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Getti.”
“Hmm. For now, all I can do is give you detention.” He pulled another slip of paper from his desk and began scribbling all over it. “You will stay for two hours after school every day until Thanksgiving break.”
“What?! That’s not fair!”
“I think its absolutely fair, Ms. Driluth.”
“I have work after school! How am I supposed to do that and detention and bring my grades up?” Mr. Getti shrugged.
“You should have thought of that before you decided to slack.”
“But, Mr. Getti!” Catra could feel the whine slipping into her voice. She hated whining, but she wasn't done talking yet. It was quite the predicament. “That’s so long! Break isn't for another three whole weeks! I can't-”
“Not my problem, Driluth. Take it to someone who cares.” He handed her the detention slip. “You will report to room 205 after school.”
“Come on, Mr. Getti. You have to at least let me do my time on the third floor.”
“That will be all, Ms. Driluth. Now get out of my office, you’re wasting my time.”
“Oh, I’m wasting your time?” Mr. Getti pulled off his glasses and fixed her with a serious look.
“Would you care to make it four weeks?” Catra prepared to retort, and almost started yelling, but managed to reign herself in.
“No, Mr. Getti,” She gritted out, “I’m absolutely overjoyed with my three weeks.”
“Excellent,” He replied. “Now get out of my office before I call security.” Catra stuck out her tongue, grabbed her backpack, and stalked out of his office. She kicked the door shut with as much force as she could muster. She her foot was in the air to kick it again when someone called her name.
“Hey, Catra!” She recognized that voice. As if like magic, her worries faded away. She spun around, a grin on her face.
“Adora!” Down the hall was Adora, her best friend in the entire world. She was tall with blond hair and blue eyes, and could have a career in modeling if she didn't love sports so much. Catra put up a hand and waved- As if Adora would have a hard time spotting her in the empty hallway. “What are you doing here? Isn't it fifth period?” Adora shook her head.
“Nope, lunch just started. I was talking to Mr. Ross. What are you doing here?” Catra shrugged.
“Nothing much, just Mr. Getti fucking hates me.” Adora’s face was immediately sympathetic.
“What happened this time?” Catra held up her detention slip.
“Fucking three weeks of detention is what!”
“Why?” Adora asked, her nose scrunched into a button.
“Apparently, my grades are too bad- Which they’re not, by the way. I swear he has it out for me.” Adora hummed in acknowledgement.
“How are they? Your grades?”
“They’re fine. I’m not, like, failing everything, if that’s what you mean.” Adora hummed again.
“Good.”
“Yeah,” Catra said. They stood in silence for a moment, before Adora shifted her backpack and sighed.
“You, uh, ready to go to lunch? I’m starving.” Catra nodded.
“Yeah, sure.” The pair turned and began walking towards the cafeteria. Catra kept her head down as they walked, trying to align her feet with the tiles of the floor. She didn't actually want to eat lunch, but Adora did, so she’d go too. Most days, she only ate enough that Adora wouldn't worry about her. Adora worried a lot, and sometimes, Catra didn't mind it. At others, Catra would rather Adora stayed in her own lane. Besides, she didn't get it. Catra couldn't eat lunch. She was too fat to eat three meals a day.
“So, I’m just curious, but, like, how are your grades?” Adora asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “School hasn't been the same without you.” At the start of the school year, Adora got into all honors classes, leaving Catra behind in the world of regular-ness. She’d been badgering Catra about applying for next year ever since she found out she was going to be taking special classes.
“Fine.”
“How fine?” Catra bit her bottom lip, heat prickling at the back of her neck. She always hated this part. It was fact by now that whenever she talked about school, Adora's response made her feel stupid. Adora’s better test scores and neater notes had a remarkable tendency to rain on her parade. So Catra preferred to keep school out of their conversations.
“Not bad, okay? I’m only failing in Bio now, so-”
“You’re failing?!” Adora said, “That’s not fine! Do you need help studying?” Catra shrugged. It was an offer Adora had made before, but one she never accepted. She could handle her shit. She was handling it.
“I think I’m good.”
“But you always say that, and you’re still failing!”
“Yeah, but I don't have- I can't. Bio is just harder for me than you.”
“Sure, but-”
“It’s all good in Catra-town,” She said, and slung an arm around Adora’s shoulder. “Now come on. You have to tell me what happened in Razz’s class today.” Ms. Razz was a history teacher, and the least sane woman on the face of the Earth. She was absolutely insane, and many students hated her. Catra didn't have her, but she knew enough people who did to have a good grasp on how insane the woman was.
“Oh!” Adora perked up, “Not much. Lonnie made a joke about cocaine, then Ms. Razz started ranting about the Opium Wars and Pablo Escobar.”
“Sounds delightful,” Catra said, and pulled her arm away from Adora as they reached the cafeteria.
“I guess. But, like, none of her classes are ever on the same page. Its so annoying sometimes.” Catra shrugged.
“My Spanish teacher is like that too. I think he’s an escapee from a mental hospital or something.” The expression on Adora’s face was something of a cross between amused and curious. Part of it was natural inquisition, and the other part was that in New York, the rumors were more true than you’d expect.
“Cool,” Adora said, “I’m gonna go get our seats.” She left, running off to their usual table. Catra rolled her eyes. Adora had been doing that exact same thing since the first day of sixth grade. It must've been Pavlovian at this point. Catra qualified for a free lunch, so she got one while Adora found a table. No matter how many other people sat with her, she always made sure to save a seat for Catra. Never once in four years had Catra gone without a seat at lunch. That was nice. Sometimes nicer than others- Like when Catra actually got to sit at the table, rather than on Adora’s lap. But anyway, Catra had stability in her lunch table, which was more than some people could say.
After her mother died, her friends passed Catra around for a few years like in a game of hot potato. The last friend she stayed with had kids of her own. Her name was Ms. Weaver, even to her biological children. It was almost a full year before Catra gave up and sent a letter to Child Protective Services. Two months later, they showed up. They couldn't find anything wrong with the place, to Catra’s dismay, so they left. Later that night, she learned what it felt like to take the clasp of a belt to the eye and what the scar looked like.
But it was fine. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened. And Catra was well aware of the risks- CPS would have had to take them for everything to have been alright. Ms. Weaver also had three more children that she was taking care of. Their names were Esme, Mick, and Luch. None of those were nicknames. For the longest time, Catra had assumed their actual names were Esmeralda, Mickey, and Lucia, but that wasn’t the case. All three were younger than her, and sometimes it seemed like they had a bond. Other times, Catra feared them. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone. She couldn't be afraid of someone whose head barely reached her shoulders.
After a couple minutes of waiting, Catra was able to get her lunch. Her current foster dad had obscene wealth, although you wouldn't know it from looking at him. He was a tall man with hair dyed blue. He wore eyeliner, but you usually couldn't see it from behind his red-tinted sunglasses. Parenting was not a priority to him. All he shared with Catra from his life was how to fake tax returns. She was pretty sure he had only taken her in for the benefit of his drug ring. Ever since she moved in with him, her arrest record was filling with drug charges.
After she got her lunch, she made her way over to the table. Adora had, as always, saved her a spot. Also at the table were Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle, three people Catra had known since before her mother died. At one point in time, they were her best friends, but such ceased to be true when the three of them switched into honors classes. But it was fine. Catra had new associates in her regular, shitty classes anyway. She didn't need them.
“Hey,” She said, setting her lunch on the table. Lonnie was the first to look up from her conversation with Rogelio.
“Hi,” She said, and immediately went back to talking to him. Rogelio was an interesting person, to say the least. He was tall and bulky, and had a green mohawk. When he was younger, he was a mute, but now, he could sort of talk. The only person who understood him was Lonnie. Their whole thing was super weird to Catra.
“Hi, Catra,” Adora said. She had become distracted with something- Homework, by the looks of it. She ate an apple with her right hand, and wrote with her left, not looking up.
“Whatcha doin, there, Adora?” She asked.
“Oh, this?” Adora glanced up, and took a bite of her apple. “It’s for Spanish.”
“Que interesante,” Catra replied. Spanish was an interesting subject for her. Her mom spoke some Spanish before she died, and Catra heard it at work, but never the kind they taught at school. That was always peninsular Spanish. And boy, were the Spaniards on something. Catra much prefered the sounds of New York immigrant Spanish to the bastardized version of Madrid Spanish she learned in the classroom.
“Verdaderamente!” Adora agreed, and went back to her worksheet. Great. Now that Adora was working, Catra had nobody to talk to. Well, she could talk to Kyle, but, like. It was Kyle. Come on, now. So instead, she ate her soggy, fattening french fries.
“I’m, uh, I’m going to the vending machine,” She announced to nobody in particular. Nobody looked up or acknowledged her. After a moment, she got up anyway. Instead of going to the vending machine, she wandered around the cafeteria. She was virtually unnoticed. She weaved around people and tables, seldom making eye contact with them. A few faces were familiar from class or drug deals, but most were completely foreign. But that didn't matter. She had Adora, even if the other girl was always busy with homework and sports.
As Catra wandered, she caught the eye of someone she recognized. A small girl, her hair braided, and her eyes almond shaped. The girl, along with a group of others, frequented her library. Though they had never spoken, Catra felt tempted to wave or go over and talk to her or something. What kind of conversation would that be? Hi, I’m aware of your existence. Please make me aware of more. That would be super weird. So Catra sent the girl a curt nod and kept walking. She wasn't sure, but she thought the girl nodded back.
When she grew bored, Catra returned to her table. She sat next to Adora, and tried to be quiet, but it wasn't long before she grew bored and time slowed to a crawl. With a groan, Catra grabbed her backpack from the floor. Doing her homework was always an option- And there was that Algebra worksheet she had to do. Doing math in any capacity usually made her hate being alive, but seeing as her grade was- What? A D? She could stand to do some more work. Her foster dad would kill her upon becoming aware of the D in math.
It wasn't long before they could leave the cafeteria. By the time the bell rang, Catra had gained frustration and understood less than she had when she started the worksheet.
“Ready to go?” Adora asked her, and she nodded. Catra was especially ready for gym in seventh period. That was her only class with Adora this year. But she had to slog- Or sleep- through Biology to get there. Maybe that was why she was failing that class.
“Yeah,” Catra responded, “Let’s go.” They walked together for as long as their schedules would allow before parting ways.
“Bye!” Catra called out, as she turned and started going up the stairs.
“See ya, Catra!” Adora yelled back. Catra grinned to herself. She loved the way Adora said her name, even though it was wrong. She fell into the common pitfall of replacing the first ‘a’ with an ‘e,’ but the way she finished the name off was unique. It was something only she had ever said before, and that made it special. The way Adora said her name…Catra couldn't put her finger on it, but it was sort of like a secret only the two of them knew. It was a shame Adora had a phonetic name and the secret couldn't go both ways.
Catra struggled to force herself through the rest of the day. Biology was on brand in levels of tediousness. When seventh period rolled around, Adora didn't even pay Catra any attention. She was too busy talking to some other girls from her fancy smart classes. Well, that was fine with Catra. She wasn't stupid. She understood that sometimes Adora had people besides Catra who wanted to talk to her, and she couldn't talk to Catra all the time. It was also annoying. Adora was her best friend, not Lonnie’s, or whoever else she was hanging out with.
Though she never joined the conversation, Catra eavesdropped all class. She caught little snippets, mostly from Adora. The other girls she was walking with had softer voices- Although Catra was pretty sure one of them was talking about her dad leaving. Which, by the way, she needed to grow up. Getting stuck up on shit like that only made it worse. And the girl seemed very stuck up on it. She had her hair dyed blue and everything. Heh. Probably part of her rebellious phase or whatever. As soon as her dad started paying child support, she’d be fine, back to being complicit in rich girl world.
When school was finally over, Catra did wind up staying for detention. Even though she talked a lot of shit, she needed to keep herself out of trouble right now. Her foster dad was losing his patience with her, and any more big screw ups would get her sent right back to the home. Or worse, Ms. Weaver’s apartment. She shuddered at the thought.
Despite not giving a shit about her, her foster dad was actually decent as foster parents went. He usually didn't hit her, and he wasn't very mean to her- if not blunt sometimes. He wanted her to do well in school, but didn't every parent? He was nowhere near being a parent, but he kept her safe and gave her money, and that was alright with her.
After her detention was up, Catra had to run to the library. She almost didn't make it in time for her shift, but that was sort of okay. Her job wasn't super important. Most of what she did was shelving books and putting labels on new ones. She made four dollars and hour doing it, and often saw people from school milling around. That day in particular, she spotted the girl she had seen at lunch. The girl was with a group now, who may or may not have also been at school. They hung out between shelves, made lots of noise, and didn't appear to care that they were in a library.
They stayed throughout her entire shift. When Catra was on her way out, she one of the actual librarians stopped her and brought into a side room.
“I’m sorry to hold you up, Catra, but we need to talk,” She said, as though she was talking to a child.
“Okay. What’s going on?” Catra asked slowly, only a little scared of the answer. The librarian sighed, and pinched her nose.
“This is hard to say, but…We’re broke. The library is out of money. We’re going to have to either close our doors or get rid of some employees.” Catra’s heart sank. She couldn't afford to lose this job! Where was she supposed to go after school? And what was she supposed to do about money?
“O-Okay,” She mumbled, glaring at her shoes.
“Its pretty unfortunate. I tried to convince my bosses not to fire anybody, but they didn't listen. So, Catra, I’m sorry to say this, but…You’re done here.”
“I understand,” Catra growled. Her life was over.
“I’m so sorry,” The librarian told her, “But we just can't afford to keep you on, and you’re in a low level position and everything. Its not an ideal situation.”
“It’s okay,” Catra said, composing herself. “I get it, man. No money, more problems, you know?” The librarian looked somewhat relieved.
“Yeah, totally. Its been super rough here the past few months. I’m sorry, though. That’s the first time I’ve ever had to fire anybody.” Catra had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Why did this librarian care so much? She didn't even know the woman’s name. “Oh, and, um. We’ll still send you your paycheck for November at the end of the month.”
“Thanks,” Catra nodded shortly, and then left the room. She took off her name tag and spiked it into a nearby trash can. “Fuck me,” She mumbled, and grabbed her backpack from behind the main desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” She kept mumbling as she went on her way. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“Yo, you okay?” Catra was tugged from her thoughts by a somewhat familiar voice. She glanced around, and eventually noticed the girl from school. Instead of responding, her first instinct was to wave. She almost did before putting her hand back to her side.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got fired,” She said, a little bitter.
“That’s rough,” Said the girl. She left her spot leaning against a bookshelf and approached Catra. “You wanna talk about it?”
“I’m, uh, I’m good,” Catra said as a reflex.
“Oh, good. I don't know shit about talking feelings,” The girl said, and ran a hand through her hair. “Me and my girls were about to hit up this party down in Soho. You wanna come?” Catra shrugged. She should be getting back home. Her foster dad might want her to make a run tonight. Then again, fuck him. Wasn't that supposed to be someone’s actual job? He could get another drug mule whenever he pleased.
“Yeah, sure,” She said on a whim, “Let’s go.” She left with the girl and her group of friends, not knowing a single one of their names. By the night’s end, she learned a couple names- Tamari, Johnny, Matea- but likely couldn't pin them to faces. The music at the party had been okay. Nothing she particularly loved. But more important was the exorbitant quantity of alcohol present. The party was in a storage unit owned by some kid who went to Catholic school, with almost enough beer and Franzia to make Catra wonder if they were okay. Then again, she drank enough to make herself wonder if she was okay.
She remembered that night in flashes. When they arrived, she was one of the few people in the room who looked like her. Most people wore tight shirts and baggy jeans, or tiny shorts with fishnets, or their hair like Madonna. Catra was anachronistic in her shredded black jeans, dark flannel, and Yankees cap. She felt the urge to find Adora and cling to her side, but Adora wasn't there. Adora was at home studying or something, like the good girl she was.
Catra clung instead to the group she had come with. They didn't pay her much attention, except to ask if she wanted a drink or a joint. She never turned anything down. At some point along the way, her goal turned from having a good time to losing the ability to think. She couldn't remember why; she was overcome by a horrible wave of sadness around ten and replaced it with alcohol. Then came the realization that being drunk was really fucking fun. She was a better dancer and singer, and she was funny.
When she woke up in the morning, Catra learned that the amount of fun one had while drinking was proportional to the amount of suffering the next day. When she woke up, Catra thought she might actually be dying. It was the equivalent of a biblical apocalypse inside her body. Locusts, floods, the whole nine yards. And that was only the headache.
“Oh, fuck me,” She tried to say, but her voice was so hoarse it came out as more of a whisper. She blinked in the bright light of the early morning, and brought a hand up to rub at her eyes. Shortly after, her greasy skin and tangled hair came to her attention. “Shit.” She glanced around her surroundings, and found herself in an apartment. She had no idea whose, but it wasn't the one they had started off in. That was a little strange, but it wasn't the worst place she'd woken up.
The first thing she noticed about the place was the carpet. It was soft under her fingers, and for a minute, she laid there and ran her fingers across the floor. She wasn't sure why, but the softness of the carpet gave her hope. Maybe because the person who lived here had a nice carpet, which meant it was possible for someone like her to have a nice carpet. At that point, what was stopping her from having a nice carpet? But then again, she drank so much last night she struggled to remember getting drunk. So she didn't know if the owner of the carpet was like her at all, and she was back at square one.
Sitting up turned out to be a mistake. Catra’s vision went dark and she would have collapsed, were it not for the couch behind her. Her headache was not helped at all by sitting up; in fact, it increased tenfold.
“Oh, shit,” She mumbled.
“Shuddup,” A voice groaned from behind her, and a hand fell down onto her shoulder. Catra yelped in shock, and jumped to her feet. Also a mistake, but she was too busy paying attention to the adrenaline to notice that she wasn't ready to jump yet.
Laying on the couch was a girl- Catra believed her to be one of the people she had gone to the party with. The girl was face down, although she hadn't changed her clothes. She wore a denim skirt and a leather tank top, and had tightly coiled hair. Probably tight enough to fit a finger, but that was an experiment for another time.
“Tamari?” Catra guessed. The girl shifted her hand, dangling off the couch. She held up one thumb, and Catra wasn't certain, but she thought there was a small grin on the girl’s face.
“That’s me,” She sang. Catra nodded.
“O-Okay, great. Um, where are we?” Tamari shrugged.
“I ain’t remember, man,” She said, and shifted on the couch to face Catra. “I’m fucking tired,” With a giggle, “I’m still drunk.”
Catra grunted in response. She cursed herself for going along with a group of people with a similar distaste for sobriety. Tamari groaned, and shifted into a different position. Facing Catra, she was able to squint around the rest of the apartment and see what she could see.
“This looks like, uh…Matea’s place. Well, it ain’t belong to her, it belongs to her parents, but, uh…” She trailed off. “Shit, man, this couch is fuckin comfortable.” A corner of Catra’s mouth twitched.
“Is it soft?” She asked.
“No shit,” Tamari responded. She pulled her knees into her chest, leaving the other side of the couch open. “You can sit if you want.” Catra did. She more curled into the armrest bit, as she was finally free of the tremendous effort of standing while hungover. The couch was a haven, and so soft. Not quite as nice as the carpet, but also not far off. If only she could have slept on the couch last night too…
In a couple hours, almost everyone else had woken up. This was, indeed, Matea’s place. Matea was a small, Eastern European girl who spoke with a heavy accent and had a mouth full of dying teeth. She claimed not to be rich, but her family had more money than Catra would know what to do with. As it turned out, daydreaming of infinite wealth got boring after you fixed all your problems. Even so, drowning in money never did sound all that bad.
“Anybody want eat something?” Matea asked, her voice low and gravelly. Catra shook her head, even though she was hungry. She sat with the group of strangers while they ate, and attempted to recall their names. It wouldn't be long before she remembered what day it was.
“It’s Thursday!” She shouted, jumping to her feet, “Shit, what time is it?” She glanced around wildly for a clock. There wasn't one in the room she was currently in, so she ventured off to look for one. Nobody followed her, and she eventually found one in a bedroom. It was ten thirty two, and she should've been to be in English right now. She didn't even know where she was, let alone how to get all the way back to school! Oh, this was all too much. Her foster dad was going to kill her when he found out she missed school.
“Yo, Catra!” A voice called out, snapping her back to the moment. “Where you at?” She stepped out of the bedroom, trying to compose herself.
“Over here,” She said, trying to keep her voice lower than it actually was.
“Yo,” A boy said, turning the corner. “What’s your deal?”
“What’s my deal?” She echoed, “It’s Thursday, dude. I need to be at school.”
“Chill, bro. We're skipping today.”
“I can't skip,” She said slowly, “My dad-”
“Man, fuck your dad,” The boy said, “What’s he gonna do to you? You got a job, right?” Catra shook her head.
“No, dude, I got fired last night. That’s the whole stupid reason I went with you to that party!”
“Alright, chill. My bad.” The boy scratched the back of his head. “But you still got some money, right?” She nodded. “A’ight, so what exactly are you so afraid of?” Catra opened her mouth to respond, but found that she didn't know. She blinked a couple times, trying to think of something. All her foster dad cared about were her grades and selling drugs, so if she could keep her grades up, who cared about her attendance? He only hit her when she deserved it- And she could take it anyway. So, yeah, the boy was right. There wasn't anything to be afraid of.
“Actually, yeah. You’re right,” Catra said, “Son of a bitch doesn't care about me anyway.”
“Yeah, see, you’re fine,” The boy said, “Now come on. You needa eat something, for real. You’re skinny as hell.” Catra held her tongue on arguing with him, even though he was wrong. It wouldn't lead them anywhere.
That was the first time Catra missed school. It was a sort of definitive marker in her life, although she wouldn't remember it. She would only remember that it started when she was a freshman. It wasn't long before she started showing up to school drunk, too. Those were the best days. Everybody loved her when she was drunk. Adora thought she was hilarious, and actually paid attention to her when they talked at lunch. By the time her detention was up, Catra had learned a whole new way of living.
There was only one downside to drinking and smoking and partying like she did. Her foster dad didn't like it. And yeah, he hit her a couple times, but there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing that she could see, at the very least.
Not once did it ever occur to Catra that she would develop an addiction. It was always just this once, or just for fun. But that was the thing about becoming an alcoholic or a drug addict. You say just this once, then twice, and the next thing you know, you’re addicted. And she didn't even realize it. On a subconscious level, she was able to better understand why her foster dad sold drugs. He got his highs from selling, and Catra got hers from using.
As the school year progressed, Catra grew further and further apart from Adora. From the outside, it was quite natural. Everybody thinks childhood friendships are parallel lines, but that couldn't be further from the truth. They each fell in with their new friends and people. Unfortunately, Adora found her people while Catra was left behind with people she couldn't force herself to love. All the while, she watched Adora get everything she ever wanted without even trying for it. They still spoke, but not as much. It was over Christmas break that Catra realized she wasn't Adora’s best friend anymore. That revelation was about all she remembered from that week, actually. She found herself blacking out more and more lately. Who could blame her? She was watching herself slip away from everybody she cared about, and there was nothing she could do about it.
By the time spring rolled around, the Catra most people claimed to know was dead and gone.
#she ra#spop#she ra fic#catra#adora#lonnie#others#big oof#scorptra#?#can i legally say that if scorpia has yet to appear#shes going to be important#ceros posting
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Thirty-Two Years
Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader (ft. Bucky, Steve, and Tony)
Content/Warnings: pure fluff. that’s it
Words: 1549
A/N: So this is my entry for @spideywhiteys writing challenge - I hope you like it! It’s super cute, I enjoyed writing it, and tropes are always fun ^-^
The day of your 30th birthday dawned clear and bright, rays of sunlight trickling in from between the gaps in your blinds and chasing out the darkness that clung to the corners of your room. It was that light, rather than your alarm, that roused you. You had woke half an hour early, but you were too excited to doze off again. Today, after fifteen years, you would be seeing Sam Wilson again. He was your best friend from diapers until you moved away at fifteen. You had kept in touch through phone calls and texts, but it wasn’t quite the same. Now that you had moved back East to D.C., the two of you could reconnect.
Praying that you weren’t about to be disappointed, you prepared for the day. It was like falling in to old habits, spending your birthday together. The two of you had been born the same day, in the same hospital, a room apart. It was how your mothers had met, a friendship springing between the two women that, like yours and Sam’s, had managed to stand the test of time. Sam was older by ten minutes (which he never let you forget), but it was only after the two of you had turned thirteen that he had shot upwards, beating your height.
The time you had to prepare seemed to both race and ooze by, and you had only just finished by the time your doorbell rang. Swallowing, and reminding yourself that it’s just Sam rather than a stranger you had never met, you turned the knob and pulled open the door.
If it weren’t for the familiar smile, which still held traces of the boy you knew as a fifteen-year-old, you would have sworn on your life that the man standing in front of you was not Sam Wilson. For starters, he was hot - a far cry from the lanky, gangly teenager you had known. For another, he seemed to have changed from an awkward, stammering boy to a confident and collected man - a theory that his next words all but solidified.
“Happy birthday, beautiful,” Sam said, the easy smile still on his face. You returned it, hoping that he couldn’t hear the way your heart raced, drumming loudly against your ribcage.
“Sam,” You said in response, allowing yourself a moment to properly take him in. He seemed to be doing the same. “Happy birthday.”
“What, I’m not beautiful too?” He asked with a laugh, following you inside. The apartment was still stacked with boxes, though things were slowly starting to come together.
“Well, we both know who the hot one is between the two of us,” You fired back with a smirk. Somehow, despite his cool demeanor and newfound attractiveness (to you, anyway), it was just as easy to be with him now as it was fifteen years ago. It was, after all, still Sam.
“Aw, thanks,” Sam said, smirking.
“I was talking about me, idiot,” You retorted with a grin.
He rolled his eyes. “Let’s not get caught up in the details. I say we get this day started, huh?”
“Let’s do it,” You agreed.
As you weren’t entirely familiar with D.C., Sam had been the one to make birthday plans, the two of you visiting the various sites to see and just being your old selves. It may have been fifteen years, but it certainly didn’t feel like it. The day flew by, the sun low in the sky by the time Sam took you to the last stop, the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. Oranges and reds danced on the surface of the water, reflecting the colorful sky above as the two of you walked slowly down the path beside it.
“So we’re thirty years old today,” Sam mulled thoughtfully, hands in his pockets.
“Yeah. Doesn’t seem possible, does it?”
“Nah, it doesn’t. This doesn’t make us old yet, does it?”
“I don’t think so,” You said with a shrug. “Now when we reach fifty…”
Sam let out a laugh. “Fifty isn’t that old.”
“It’s old enough to start getting AARP letters!” You retorted.
“Fair point,” He agreed. “You know, I’m surprised you forgot.”
“Forgot?” You repeated, furrowing your brows. What had you forgotten?
“Our pact? You know, the one we made when we were six years old? My mom mentioned it to me yesterday. I had forgotten too, if I’m honest.”
The memory came rushing back. “You mean our marriage pact?”
“Yeah! You know, the one where if we’re at the ripe old age of thirty and still single, we’d marry each other,” Sam said with a shrug. “And I’m pretty sure we’re both still single, unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”
You laughed. “I’m not marrying you, Sam. Not today anyway.”
“I didn’t expect you to. I’d settle for a date, though - if you’re interested,” He offered, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.
You smiled, nodding. “I think I can do that.”
Two Years Later
The wedding was set for the same day the two of you had made your marriage pact at six years old. The September day was pleasantly warm and bright, scarcely a cloud in the sky. Steve Rogers - Captain America himself - was best man, but it wasn’t him you were focused on; it was Sam, who was looking as handsome as ever in the tuxedo Tony Stark had insisted on providing, that captured your full attention.
Bucky Barnes was the one walking you down the aisle - you had clicked instantly with the ex-HYDRA agent, and he had been honored when you had asked him to do so. “You’ll knock him dead, doll,” Bucky had assured you before the ceremony; and now, walking towards your best friend of thirty years, you had no doubts that you had. Sam was gazing at you as if you were the most breathtaking thing in the world, taking your hand once you finally reached him.
The ceremony seemed to go by in a blur. It was just you and Sam; everyone else seemed to have faded away. Both of you had agreed to prepare vows. It was the part that seemed to come the quickest, and it was what you were most nervous about. But Sam smiled at you as Tony (who had insisted on officiating the wedding, to your amusement) called for him to give his vows, and your nerves settled.
Sam pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, one that you’d recognize anywhere, and began to speak. “Twenty-six years ago to the day, we wrote a contract after your mom told us about her wedding. We promised that, at thirty years old, if both of us were single, we’d marry each other. I wasn’t sure what to put in my vows, because there was so much I wanted to say to the woman that stole my heart, but I managed to find my copy of our contract and realized it said everything I had always felt for you.
“I, Samuel Thomas Wilson, promise to love you, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, forever. I promise to protect you from the bullies on the playground and the monster under the bed, because you’re my best friend in the world. I promise to share my snack during snack time and let you play with my favorite toy even when I want to, so that we don’t fight.
“I love you, Y/N, and those words are still as true as they were the day I wrote them. You are my best friend and the love of my life, and I could not imagine a better person to spend my life with.”
Later, you would swear up and down that you didn’t cry, but that was a lie. To be fair, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house, and it took several moments before you were able to compose yourself and read your own.
“I think we truly are meant to be together, Sam,” You said with a watery laugh, “because I brought my copy of the contract as my vows.”
There was laughter from the crowd that died as you began to speak. “I, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, promise to love you, Samuel Thomas Wilson, forever. I promise to give you the best spot at tea parties and to pretend to be Princess Leia when we’re playing Star Wars so that you can be Han Solo. I promise to share my lunch money with you, and to tell you all my secrets, because you always seem to understand and never tell anyone.
“Sam, I’ve loved you since I was six years old, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, and the love of my life. I can’t wait to spend the best years of my life with you, because thirty-two years hasn’t been enough - and thirty-two more won’t be, either.”
Tony had to clear his throat slightly before speaking. “It is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”
And without further ado, Sam pulled you into a searing kiss - the culmination of your own personal love story, thirty-two years in the making.
Tag List: @the-crime-fighting-spider @micachu1331 @esoltis280 @ilvermornyqueen @teaand-cookies @adri200189 @thisismysecrethappyplace @alittlebitofmagic @bluebird214 @lovely-geek @fleurs-en-ruines @loki-god-of-my-life @awesomehaylzus @ldyhawkeye @marvel-biatch @caswinchester2000 @ilovetvshowsblog
#Spideywhiteyswritingchallenge#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson imagine#sam wilson x you#falcon x reader#falcon imagine#sam wilson#falcon#marvel#reader#reader insert#x reader
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A Pipe Dream
The Flash stars in: A Pipe Dream
Dramatis Personae
Wally West, the garrulous, impulsive, and friendly third Flash
Joan Garrick, Jay Garrick’s wife, who is patient, loving, and supportive of everyone
Iris Allen, Barry Allen’s wife, an inquisitive daredevil reporter
The Pied Piper, alias Hartley Rathaway, a Robin Hood-esque thief
The Top, alias Roscoe Dillon, an arrogant, elitist, and top-obsessed criminal
Weather Wizard, alias Mark Mardon, an overconfident, rather stupid robber
Heat Wave, alias Mick Rory, a dim, shockingly gentle pyromaniac
Script
Act I
(Joan and Iris are onstage)
Iris: So, how’s Jay?
Joan: He’s doing well enough, I suppose, but, to be honest, I’m a little worried about him. He keeps claiming that he’s retired from crime fighting, but every time I turn around, he’s wearing that silly hat of his and racing off to fight bank robbers or carjackers or giant, murderous, telepathic gorillas. It was one thing when he was fifty, but now he’s 99 years old, and the doctors say that his heart won’t be able to take much more of his running at super speed.
Iris: What does he say about that?
Joan: That (strikes a heroic pose) “ it will be a pleasure to die in the line of duty.”
Iris: (Laughs) That sounds just like Barry.
Joan: I know, and it’s not funny. Our husbands spend so much time saving everyone else that they never stop to worry about themselves.
Iris: I guess that’s true-but hey, that’s part of what we’re here for, to make sure our husbands take some “me time” occasionally.
Joan: In speaking of husbands, how’s Barry?
Iris: He’s not doing so well. He came down with the flu a few days ago, and I’ve been going crazy trying to keep him from leaving his bed so that he can go fight crime.
Joan: Oh, I’ve had that happen with Jay before. Once, when he had pneumonia, he heard about a shoplifting ring, and I had to call in Ted and Alan-you know them as Wildcat and the original Green Lantern-to physically restrain him so that he wouldn’t leave the house to go stop them.
Iris: Well, I haven’t had to resort to calling the Justice League to restrain Barry yet, so things could be worse.
Joan: You’re right. Things could be worse. We could be having to deal with two sick speedsters each. Or a sick Superman!
Iris: Man, that would be a nightmare. I have no idea how that Lois Lane woman does it.
Joan: Maybe Clark just doesn’t get sick. After all, he isn’t a human, so maybe our diseases don’t affect him and he’s as invulnerable to getting sick as he is to everything else.
Iris: Maybe so.
(Enter Wally)
Wally: Hi, Joan. Hi, Aunt Iris. (Sneezes) How are you?
Iris: Hi, Wally. We’re doing all right. How are you?
Wally: I’m fine, but Linda and the kids all have the flu (Sneezes) and the twins also both have strep. (Sneezes) It sure is lucky that I don’t get sick, or we’d have a real mess on our hands.
Iris: Um, Wally, are you sure you’re not sick?
Wally: Yeah, I’m sure. (Sneezes three times) I never get sick. I had perfect attendance all throughout school, and you can check my records if you don’t believe me.
Joan: Can you at least try to take it easy, Wally?
Wally: I can’t do that! Jay’s retired and Uncle Barry has the flu, and someone has to protect the city! Besides, I can’t deny my adoring fans the chance to see me because I have a few sniffles. (Sneezes) I’ll be fine!
Iris: (To Joan) Is there a single superhero in the entire world who actually rests when they get sick?
Joan: Speaking from experience, I don’t think there is.
Wally: I said that I’m fine! (Sneezes) So, do you want to get lunch? I’m starving!
Iris: Wally, it’s 8:00 in the morning!
Wally: Okay, so let’s get brunch!
Iris: But I just ate breakfast!
Wally: I don’t follow. (Sneezes) I just ate breakfast, too, and I’m already hungry again.
Joan: Wally, dear, you have to consume 980,000 calories per day just to survive, so you have to eat almost constantly. We simply don’t have the appetite or the metabolism to keep up with you.
Wally: Oh, right. I forget that fact a lot-especially (Sneezes) since my kids inherited my metabolism and have to (Sneezes) eat even more than I do.
Iris: It’s all right, Wally.
Wally: So, um, do you want to go to McDonalds with me (Sneezes) and watch me eat? With Linda and the kids all sick, I’ve been cooped up in the house for a week, and I’m going stir-crazy!
Iris: I suppose so. After all, with Barry sick, I haven’t been able to get out much, either.
Joan: I’ll go, too. After all, if you really are sick despite your claims, someone needs to keep an eye on you so that you don’t run yourself into the ground.
Wally: Great! I love you guys so much, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into (Sneezes) 340 Big Macs! I love McDonalds food!
Iris: (Shakes head) Never change, Wally. Never change.
(Exit All)
Act II
(The Pied Piper is onstage, playing an instrument. Enter the Top)
Top: Top of the morning to you, Piper.
Piper: Oh, good, you were able to make it. Did you have any trouble getting here?
Top: No. There is not a person in this city who would dare inconvenience the Top.
Piper: What about our friends in the red pajamas?
Top: Don’t make me laugh, Piper. The old one is feeble and retired, the young one is impulsive and stupid, and the only one that poses a threat has the flu, and therefore cannot be on top of his game. They could not bother me if they tried. What of you, my friend? Are you still in tip- top shape, or has your life spun out of control?
Piper: I’m as fit as a fiddle, Roscoe. The Flashes have no reason to hunt down a peaceable man who steals money from drug lords and self-absorbed starlets and gives it to the poor. In fact, if I could only make them realize that the real villains are the members of the 1% who enrich themselves at the expense of the poor, we would be good friends.
Top: But I heard you were homeless?
Piper: I am.
Top: How, exactly, did that come to pass?
Piper: Well, after my last heist, I was going to buy an apartment for myself, but while I was on my way to buying it, I saw a very pregnant woman with two small children crying, and when I asked her what was wrong, she told me that she was trying to escape from her abusive boyfriend but that she had no money, and so I gave her the money and told her to use it to make a good life for herself and her children, and so I was unable to buy anything.
Top: You gave all of the money away?
Piper: Of course! They needed it more than I did.
Top: You, sir, are a fool. This is the fifth time that you have given up a permanent home to help some wretch-the fifth time!
Piper: Roscoe, you of all people should understand what it is like to be an outcast. How can you criticize my desire to help others that the world has forgotten?
Top: Because I am a genius, something that decidedly does not apply to the people for whom you constantly risk your freedom and your own safety.
Piper: Roscoe, my early life was spent in scandalous luxury, luxury that my parents took at the expense of the poor who helped build their empire. It’s only fair that I go without to help them now. (Pause) So, do you know if anyone else is coming to our little meeting?
Top: No. I do not concern myself with the behavior of lesser men like them.
(Enter Heat Wave)
Heat Wave: Hi, Piper! Hi, Top! Seeing you two really warms my heart! (Hugs Piper)
Piper: Mick, I love hugs, but…I….can’t….breathe!
Heat Wave: Oh, sorry. (Releases him)
Piper: Hi, Mick. How have you been?
Heat Wave: I’m okay. I was burning up with fever a couple days ago, but I’m all better now.
Piper: I’m glad to hear that. Do you know if any of the others are coming?
Heat Wave: Captain Cold won’t be here. He’s got a bad case of the chills , and besides, he’s still in prison, and so is Mirror Master. They say hi.
Piper: And what about Glider?
Top: My love is on vacation in the Bahamas. She won’t be able to come.
Piper: Wait. I thought you said that you didn’t know if anyone else could come!
Top: Did I? Oh. My apologies.
Piper: (To Heat Wave) Do you know if Digger is coming?
Heat Wave: He won’t be coming. He broke his leg and told me that he didn’t feel like messing with crutches when I brought him chocolate and flowers.
Piper: Okay, and what about Mardon?
Heat Wave: I don’t know. Last I heard, he was feeling a little under the weather.
(Enter Weather Wizard)
Wizard: Nope, I’m as right as rain!
Piper: Hi, Mark!
Wizard: Hi, Piper! Hey, Mick.
Heat Wave: How’ve you been? I heard you were sick.
Wizard: Nope. I’ve just been taking it easy.
Top: What a surprise.
Wizard: What’s that supposed to mean?
Top: It means that you are a lazy fool who hasn’t done a day’s work in his life.
Wizard: Am not! Why, I stole an entire tractor-trailer full of sports cars in an hour once!
Top: Yes, by sitting on your couch and allowing a tornado to detach the trailer from the cab of the truck and deliver the loot to your house.
Wizard: So? You can’t fault me for conserving energy!
Top: “Conserving energy”, my foot.
Wizard: What’s the matter, Top? Are you jealous of my power?
Top: No. I simply think it is wasted on a man who uses it only to commit petty thefts.
Wizard: (Raises weather wand) Petty? (Waves wand) I’ll show you petty! (Thunderclap)
Heat Wave: Whoa there, Mark, let’s not get hasty. I don’t want you to do something in the heat of the moment that you’ll regret-like destroying this building with all of us in it!
Piper: Mick’s right, Mark. It’s too dangerous to get into a fight here.
Wizard: (Lowers weather wand) Fine. But if you expect me to take his stupid comments forever, you’re chasing rainbows, Piper.
Piper: (to Top) Roscoe, please don’t antagonize Mark. You really don’t want him to make you face the music .
Top: I am not afraid of him, Piper.
Wizard: Well, you should be, because if you don’t start respecting me, our little truce will be nothing more than the calm before the storm!
Top: Whatever you say, Mardon. Whatever you say. (Pause) Shall we get down to business?
Heat Wave: Yeah, we should. Who has a plan for our next heist?
Piper: I do, actually, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be calling the tune on this job. You see, some friends of my parents are importing some very fine jewelery, and I think that those jewels will make for a tidy sum for the poor….
Act III
(Wally, Iris, and Joan are sitting at a table)
Wally: Boy, that was delicious! (Sneezes) I don’t care what Uncle Barry says-McDonalds has the best food in the world!
Joan: It isn’t exactly the healthiest food, you know.
Wally: Yeah, I know-but with the way I burn calories (Sneezes) , it isn’t going to hurt me any!
Iris: Um, I’m not sure that’s how it works, Wally.
Wally: Well, even if it isn’t, I’m young and it tastes good, so who cares?
Joan: I do, for one.
Iris: And so do I.
Wally: Good grief! When are you two (Sneezes) going to stop treating me like a little kid?
Iris: Wally, I watched you grow up. It’s going to take awhile for me to adjust-especially when you keep acting like a crazy teenager.
Wally: I don’t act like a crazy teenager! (Sneezes) I act like a crazy adult!
Joan: Wally, there isn’t much difference between a crazy teenager and a crazy adult.
Wally: Oh, yeah? (Sneezes) Prove it!
Joan: The Trickster.
Wally: Yeah, you’ve pretty much got me there. (Sneezes) Sorry I’m so annoying.
Joan: It’s all right. You’re not annoying most of the time, dear.
Iris: Just some of the time.
Wally: I love you guys. (Sneezes) So, what should we do next?
Iris: We could go shoe shopping. I’ve been needing a new pair of heels.
Wally: No! Not shoe shopping! Linda’s taken me on enough shoe shopping trips to last a lifetime! (Sneezes)
Iris: I was only kidding, Wally.
Wally: Good. Oooh, why don’t we get ice cream?
Joan: You can get ice cream. It probably isn’t a good idea for us to get it.
Wally: Yes! (Disappears, then returns with ice cream and cake)
Joan: Where did you get the cake from?
Wally: China. (Sneezes) They make everything there these days.
Iris: (Laughs) You ran all the way to China just to get cake?
Wally: Well, I was aiming for Hungary, but I overshot.
Joan: How did you overshoot Hungry? You have a full-time residency there.
Wally: Huh? (Pauses, then laughs) Oh, I get it! That’s hilarious, Joan!
Joan: Why thank you, Wally. I think you and your aunt are rubbing off on me.
Iris: I’m glad we decided to do this. Barry’s a dear, but when he gets sick, he can be a bit of a nightmare.
Wally: Wait, Uncle Barry can be a nightmare?
Iris: Believe it or not, yes. Now, he’s not rude or whiny, but he keeps trying to leave his bed and stop crimes instead of resting so that he can get well, and it’s very irritating to make him stay put, because he gives me these really sad puppy dog eyes when I tell him to stay at home.
Wally: Hah! I knew he (Sneezes) had a weakness besides punctuality!
Joan: All three of you have that weakness, Wally.
Wally: I do not! (His phone rings) Sorry. I need to take this. (Pulls out phone) Hello, Commissioner? The Rogues? What are they doing? Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. All right. I’ll be there as soon as possible, Commish! (Sneezes) You’re welcome. Good-bye. (Puts away phone) Sorry, guys, I’ve gotta run! The Rogues are trying to steal some jewelry, and I need to stop them.
Iris: No problem, Wally. Go get them!
Joan: And be careful!
(Exit Wally)
Iris: You know, just once, I would like to have an outing that isn’t interrupted by criminals, the Rogues, telepathic gorillas, or aliens who want to take over the world.
Joan: I fully agree with you, Iris. (Pause) Would you like to go shoe shopping with me while he’s gone?
Iris: That sounds terrific, Joan.
Commercial Break!
Act IV
(Enter the Rogues, running)
Piper: (Yelling over his shoulder) Thank you for your generous donation to the poor, Mr. Englewood!
Top: Oh, that was terrific fun! I’m feeling on top of the world right now!
Heat Wave: You’re right, Top. There’s nothing like a nice heist with all of my bestest friends to give me those nice warm and fuzzy feelings.
Wizard: Tell me about it. I’m on cloud nine!
Top: What are you going to do with your money, Piper? I am going to buy a nice suit and some new tops for my collection.
Heat Wave: I’m going to buy some presents for all of my friends so that I can warm their hearts. I’m sure Captain Cold will love a new parka.
Top: I was not asking you, you imbecile.
Heat Wave: Oh. I’m sorry, Top.
Top: Just be sure it does not happen again.
Wizard: I’m going to buy me a new car so that I can finally get a girlfriend!
Top: That will never happen, Mark, and I was not asking you either.
Wizard: Well gee, thanks for destroying my ray of hope, Roscoe.
Top: Moron. (To Piper) Well, my friend? What are you going to do with your share of the loot?
Piper: I’m going to donate it to a charity for sick children. The cries of joy that will produce will be music to my ears.
Top: You are giving away your money again? (Pause) I do not believe you.
Piper: What’s so wrong about wanting to help people?
(Enter Wally)
Wally: Because you’re going about it all wrong, Piper.
Wizard: By the four seasons! It’s the Flash!
Top: Not to worry, Mardon. This one is a mere child. (To Wally) Spin.
Wally: Whoa! (Stumbles, but keeps his balance) You should become a ride at Disney World or something, Top, because you make me just as dizzy.
Heat Wave: It’s time for you to take the heat, Kid Flash! (Fires at Wally, who narrowly dodges)
Wally: No thanks!
Wizard: (Waves his wand) We’re too powerful for you to stop, Flash. Why don’t you take a rain check?
Wally: No way! Defeating a bunch of clowns like you will be a breeze!
Top: Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. (Spins out of Wally’s way)
Heat Wave: This situation is too hot for you to handle, Flash! You should leave before you get hurt or something.
Wally: Get hurt by one of you? Yeah, right. (He sneezes, and Top grabs him from behind)
Top: You were saying?
Wizard: Nighty night, Flash. (Raises his wand, and Wally sneezes again, causing the wand to go flying out of his hand) My wand!
Wally: (Breaks free) Nice try, Mardon. (He handcuffs Wizard and Top to one another)
Heat Wave: Hey, nobody hurts my friends like that!
Wally: (Taps him on the shoulder) You need better friends. (Handcuffs him to a lamp)
Piper: Flash, I’m not going to fight you. I abhor violence, as a general rule, and I know as well as anyone that my musical hypnosis doesn’t work well on you. However, before you take me away, I want to ask you something. Mr. Englewood hardly needs more money, and everyone knows that his factories are some of the most hazardous in the country for his workers. Why is it so wrong that I take money from him and give it to children who are dying from preventable diseases because of lack of money? You can’t argue that he deserves it more than they do, and he’s wealthy enough that he won’t even miss the money we took from him. Can’t you at least let me give the money away before you take me to jail? Please?
Wally: Piper, if I’m being honest, part of me wants to let you, but here’s the thing. I can’t let you break the law in order to help people. I’m sorry.
Piper: That’s all right. You’re just doing what you were told is right. I can’t fault you for that.
(Wally handcuffs him)
Wally: A word of advice, Piper? If you really want to help the poor, and I think you do, I think you’ll find it more rewarding if you do it on the right side of the law.
(Exit Wally)
Wizard: Well, that was a bust.
Top: For once, Mardon, we agree about something.
Heat Wave: Hey, guys, look at the bright side! At least we’re all still together.
Wizard: True. Nobody can call us fair-weather friends!
Heat Wave: And you know what’s even better? When we go back to prison, we can see Captain Cold again!
Top: I’m thrilled.
Wizard: Aww, don’t be such a downer, Top. You should learn to see the silver lining.
Top: I hate you both.
Piper: (Aside) All I wanted was to give the poor justice. Why is that a crime? The idea of people like my parents helping the poor is just a pipe dream...isn’t it?
Act V
(Iris and Joan are onstage. Enter Wally)
Wally: Hi, Iris! Hi, Joan! (Sneezes)
Joan: Oh, hi, Wally. Are you all right?
Wally: I’m okay. (Sneezes) But I think you were right about me being sick. I just took my temperature, and I’m 114 degrees. (Sneezes)
Joan: 114? How are you still alive?
Wally: Because the baseline body temperature for speedsters is 107 degrees.
Joan: Oh, that’s right.
Iris: Were you able to stop the Rogues?
Wally: Yep! (Sneezes) They’re being transported back to prison now, and all the jewelry has been returned. (Sneezes)
Iris: So, what do you want to do now, Wally?
Wally: I want to go home and sleep. (Sneezes) Running around sick won’t help anything.
Iris: Yes! A hero finally sees reason!
Wally: (Sneezes) Oh, and one more thing? Would you mind (Sneezes) donating money to the Children’s Health Foundation? I have a certain….friend who would really appreciate it.
Joan: Of course we will, Wally.
Wally: Thanks. You two are the greatest! (Sneezes)
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The Lyin’ King
This is the 99 percent true* story of a friendship that was at least 50 percent false.
Surprising, because I never thought of myself as a gullible person. Shouldn’t a newspaper reporter have the strongest bullshit detector imaginable? (Yes, there was the time my colleagues convinced me the boss was forcing us into “treadmill meetings,” but in all fairness, she seemed to have some body image issues, and the company gym was right there.) In situations where things seem ideal, though, I’m often the first to Google that shit and start finding the flaws.
Except for with Leo. **
I met him through my ex-husband, but after a handful of happy hours, he was more my friend that my ex’s. We had something in common: Upbringing in ultra-conservative Christian families followed by fallout when we left those systems. He was coming out as gay and leaving the church, I could help him navigate that and, being newly divorced, I had a lot of time on my hands. We bonded over mutual rejection and our newfound addiction to online dating.
I try not to use the word “perfect,” because a Buddhist friend reminds me that nothing on this earthly plane fits that description. But Leo was perfect: young, model-gorgeous with a wardrobe to match. Charming in any social situation. Wickedly funny, useful in a crisis, an attentive listener. Go places with Leo and, over time, you will meet literally hundreds of people drawn into his light. Some of them get to stay. It’s intoxicating.
He barely made an effort at work and won employee of the year consecutively. Eventually, he earned a lofty position that absolutely nothing on his resume would demonstrate he could fill, and his bosses loved him there, too. He sang beautifully, danced sexily, painted passably. He ran marathons and lifted weights. Leo even perfectly curated his imperfection, to wit, a scar that came with a hilarious story about a brown recluse hiding in old pants.
He lived with my husband and me briefly, between men, but there were usually men. Never as attractive, typically more accomplished, although that second requirement could be suspended if it looked like the other option was extended singleness. So when Leo started talking about the man he would marry, I burst out laughing and told him he was full of shit. He started crying because I didn’t believe him. I begged him to forgive me.
Looking back, that should have told me something.
Because if Leo had been sitting on a computer in Nigeria emailing me that he was a displaced prince and needed my bank account number so he could reclaim his lost wealth, I’m not completely sure I wouldn’t be bankrupt right now.
The new boyfriend was close to becoming a doctor. The Doctor told me his medical specialty was hugging — that’s how earnest this guy was. He and Leo moved to another state for a residency and, sure enough, got engaged soon after that move. I spoke at their wedding.
Their marriage didn’t last long. Something was always wrong with The Doctor. He wasn’t attentive enough. He walked funny. He overspent. Leo had to take a second job — working weekends at conferences around the globe — to pay the bills. He texted me pictures of scenery in exotic locales. “This looks fun, but you seem angry all the time now,” I told him. Of course he was angry, living with all the stress of keeping them afloat, Leo said.
They got divorced, and Leo announced he was moving home to Nashville, but first he had to move in with a co-worker suffering from a brain tumor to see her through it, plus he was getting more involved in church and going to therapy. No more men, he said, just work, caretaking and the spritual journey of self-discovery for him. Every single phone call came back to the church, therapy or the friend with cancer. I started to feel petty, wanting Leo to come home when there was such important work where he was. Our conversations got awkward.
“Leo always reminds me we’re best friends, but I don’t think I know him at all anymore,” I told my husband. He shrugged. Friendships change, he said.
Instead of Leo moving back to Nashville, The Doctor moved back. Leo called, frantic, with the news. Turns out the doctor had been cheating on him all along with a colleague! He stole all Leo’s money! Leo was ruined! Wasn’t it awful?
So when The Doctor, who worked less than a quarter-mile from my office, texted that we should have coffee now that he was back, I ignored that asshole. A few months later, when he texted that he was thinking about me and asked how I was, I wrote back, “Fine, thanks.” This slow thaw went on for about a year, and eventually it seemed nuts NOT to just forgive him and have coffee. Let he among us who hasn’t cheated for the length of a marriage and then left our spouse destitute cast the first stone, right?
The first half-hour our visit, we discussed weather and work. The Doctor finally introduced the elephant.
“Why do you think Leo and I got divorced?” he asked.
“That’s not important,” I said. “Water under the bridge.”
“I seriously want to know,” he said.
I considered for a moment. “Because you’re a compulsive philanderer and thief?”
The Doctor looked prepared for that answer. No, he said. Just the opposite.
And through a series of lunches with The Doctor plus light stalking, I learned that many things Leo told me since he moved were lies. The weekend conference job was a cover for an affair that predated the marriage — The Doctor figured that out thanks to an unexpected credit card statement. It was a man The Doctor knew as a family friend, a straight husband and father. That meant the pictures sent to me were probably from Google Images. Leo’s co-worker with cancer probably never actually had cancer, and if she did, her daughter already lived in the same apartment.
There really was a church, turns out, because Leo and his lover joined it on the same day, according to an online bulletin.
I started to investigate some stories that didn’t have to do with Leo’s marriage. More lies. The timing on my Nancy Drew act was bad, because Leo was hopping a plane home to see a concert with me the next week.
I emailed him what I’d found out, too afraid I’d fall apart during a phone call, and apologized for the times I came off as judgmental about other people’s affairs. It was none of my business, I wrote, and I could see where it made it impossible to tell me what was going on. We set a time to talk, and Leo tearfully copped to the affair, but nothing else.
“What made you think you couldn’t just tell me the truth?” I asked.
“I always wanted to be so perfect.” He was crying, struggling to get the words out. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be my friend anymore.”
We were silent for a moment, and then I heard a muffled, cheerful greeting. “I’ll be in there in a sec!” Leo shouted. No tears.
“Where are you?” I asked.
He was outside a wedding shower and had to go. “I assume, in light of all this, I shouldn’t come to Nashville,” he said.
“Of course you should still come!” I said. “You need to come now more than ever so we can figure out what the hell happened between us.”
He sent the text a few hours before I was supposed to pick him up from the airport: I’m being called last minute to work one of those conferences, and with my financial situation, I can’t afford to say no.
Even with the truth in the open — realizing that I knew the conferences never existed and The Doctor hadn’t stolen from him — he retreated into the lie. It was like he had no choice. I couldn’t stop staring at my phone.
The way my decade-long friendship with Leo ended shook me for about a year. Now that he was gone, my friends who knew him could step forward with their own experiences. I could look back on things he said and see the cracks. I’ve never felt more stupid. Mostly, my feeling was that because he was so beautiful and charming and talented, and because I am a fat, middle-aged lady with a few jokes and decent writing ability, I never allowed myself to be skeptical with him for fear he’d stop talking to me. I believed someone else with more self-esteem who was a little brighter would have seen right through Leo. This isn’t me being self-deprecating, this is how I actually saw it.
With a few years’ perspective and after meeting a couple more Leos subsequently, I have a theory. I think there may be a lot of Leos out there among us.
Those of us raised ultra conservative, who wake up to the damage that extremism does, face a choice. The day comes where we either speak our truths and stop accommodating the family system, or we always keep a little bit of a lie going so we can keep their favor. Leo was like that. Once he told his family he was gay and they could live with that, he had to construct a perfect gay marriage to a perfect candidate. It couldn’t be troubled like other marriages. There couldn’t be an affair. It had to be perfect.
But those of us who stop accommodating, who say you’re wrong and refuse to support even the slightest vestige of that system, who take our lumps and live with the displeasure ... we get to be rigorously honest. Once we’ve made a stand that life-changing, it no longer matters what our friends, or our boss, or anyone thinks.
We’ve earned our truth. And we may live so strongly in that truth, it seems impossible for someone we love to be enmeshed in lies. We may be completely taken in by that person.
And that’s OK. Maybe even beautiful.
* I’ve changed one name.
** That’s the name.
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