#If I have to wear gloves we’re doing still life’s indoors sorry
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CERES Environment Park and around Brunny. And I continue to completely misrepresent Melbourne because I’m a baby who only goes out to paint when the sun is out >:^)
#procreate#plein air#Melbourne#James gurney would be so disappointed in me#If I have to wear gloves we’re doing still life’s indoors sorry#I’m a subtropical creature!!!!!!
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When You’re A Mystery Kid - Chapter 39: Foresight
Summary: All Norman wanted was to have a nice walk.
Word Count: 3.869
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IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters featured here.
There was a hail last night.
It wasn’t the worst one that Norman had lived through. Still, by the time morning came, it did some damage. About four inches of snow, a missing garden gnome, and school canceled for today. Courtney celebrated by sleeping in. Or, at least, that’s what Norman hoped she’s doing in her room with the door locked. Usually, Norman would’ve celebrated by doing something not entirely different. Namely, binging on terrible horror movies, and probably chat a bit with his friends about literally whatever. But today, he found himself not in the mood to stay indoors. Instead, he felt the urge to go for a walk outside. Not even to anywhere in particular; just a nice, casual stroll around Blithe Hollow. Besides, staying around the house meant he had to listen in to his dad bitching on and on about the weather, and he really wouldn’t want that.
He had texted Neil, asking him if he’s up to join him for a walk. Neil texted back in record time, replying that yes, he’s up for a walk, and that he’ll be over at Norman’s house in ten minutes, tops.
So, Norman bundled himself up in a modest set of winter gear - jacket, scarf, a pair of gloves - and waited at his driveway for his best friend to arrive.
Norman didn’t have to wait long. Neil rounded the corner, decked out in what looked like a clothes store’s entire winter clothing line. His already round frame somehow got even rounder, and he looked like he’s having trouble keeping his arms down at his sides. He came to a halt before Norman wearing a big smile, partially hidden under at least three scarves.
“Morning, Norman!” Neil greeted.
“Morning,” Norman greeted back. He could barely hold back from grinning at Neil’s attire. “You know, you look like you could use another pair of gloves. I’ve got a few spare ones if you want.”
Neil rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Norman. You know this body’s sensitive. Gotta treat it like my life depends on it. Which it is.”
“Sorry, sorry. Just couldn’t resist.” Norman chuckled.
Neil pouted, but Norman could tell he meant nothing by it. “So,” Neil said, “you got plans for where we’re going?”
“Well… no, not really.” Norman shrugged. “I just thought we could walk around and, like, talk about stuff.”
Neil deflated, ever so slightly. “Oh. Alright, that’s still pretty neat,” he said, putting on a smile. Neil tried to hide it, but Norman could tell he’s a little disappointed.
“We could… maybe swing by and grab a couple of hot dogs if it’s still open,” Norman suggested with a knowing smile. If there was anything that could get Neil excited, it’s good junk food.
Just like Norman thought, it worked like a charm. “Double neat!” Neil grinned, the spring back in his step. “Come on, let’s bounce!”
Neil practically did take off bouncing, with Norman leisurely following behind. Neil’s burst of energy eventually wore off, and the two settled into a relaxed pace. They followed a routine, almost, of occasional bursts of small talk, followed by stretches of comfortable silence. During that silence, Norman spent his time mostly enjoying the sight of the snow-covered yards, roads, and houses. It was strange; Norman must have used this path thousands of times already, but just with the added layer of white over everything, just with that tiny bit of change, everything felt so fresh and new. Once or twice, they would pass by a ghost, and Norman made sure he’d give them a quick wave. Without even a word, Neil would always follow his lead, and he’d even do it with far more energy than Norman. That, among other things, warmed Norman’s heart in this cold day.
“How’s your workout going?” Norman asked just as they left the suburban part of town.
“Dude, it’s going great!” Neil tried to flex, which was a struggle with all the clothing covering him. “I’m growing some real guns underneath all these fat and skin.”
“And clothes,” Norman added, smiling cheekily. Neil stuck his tongue out at him.
“I’m thinking of taking it to the next level. Maybe try out for the football team next year.” Neil tried to do some sort of football maneuver to emphasize his point. Keyword being ‘tried’. The clothes were really hindering his movement. “Who knows? Maybe the football gene really does run in the family after all.”
Norman smiled, this time with no trace of mischief. “Neil, that’s great!” he said, and when he saw Neil starting to blush, his smile grew wider. He decided to double down on the compliments. “That might be the only way I’ll be even remotely interested in football.”
“Nah, you don’t have to do that to yourself. My dad and Mitch already talks about football all the time, so I’m covered on that front.” Silence began to settle between the two once more, and Norman would’ve turned his attention back to the snow-covered atmosphere, if not for the look on Neil’s face. He suddenly looked… troubled, frowning with his eyebrows knit together, for reasons Norman couldn’t tell. He was about to open his mouth, when Neil suddenly spoke, “Hey, uh… we can talk about whatever, right?”
Norman’s eyes narrowed, but he still shrugged. “Sure.”
“Okay! Okay.” Neil looked relieved, but only slightly. Nervously, he continued, “Can we… talk about your, you know… your thing?”
Norman… had a pretty good idea what Neil meant, but just in case, he asked back, “My thing?”
“Don’t-! You’re stalling. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Neil was still frowning, but now, it’s directed straight at Norman. He had no idea getting stared down by Neil could feel so uncomfortable. “Your super magic lightning power thing!”
“There’s not a lot to say about it,” Norman said. It really was. Or, at least, there’s not a lot that he wanted to say about it. “It’s powerful, it’s dangerous, it’s something that I’ll only use when I absolutely have to.”
“Norman, there are so many things to say about it.” Neil looked off into the distance. For a moment, Neil acted like he wasn’t here, off to relive a memory in his mind. Norman had no doubts about which memory it was. “The things you did against Bill, it was- you looked like you could blow up planets with it.”
“I… guarantee you; it’s pretty unlikely that I can blow up planets,” Norman replied, and he was certain of it. Ninety-percent certain of it. Well, okay, it was closer to eighty five, but that’s it.
“Okay, maybe planets is too far, but you could still blow up a whole lot!” Neil retorted. Norman almost rolled his eyes. He just wanted this topic to be over. Norman was caught by surprise when Neil suddenly stepped in front of him. They both stopped walking, their gazes locked with each other. “You know the only reason the others aren’t asking questions is because most of them doesn’t actually know what you can do, right?”
Norman averted his gaze, suddenly finding the pavement to be the most interesting thing around. Neil took a step forward.
“They know about your powers, sure, but out of the eight of us, the twins and I are the only ones that actually saw your fight with Bill.”
Norman turned away from Neil, taking three steps away from him. He could barely believe he’s doing it even as he did it. “Neil, please. Stop it.”
“But- Norman-”
“Neil, I don’t want to talk about this!” Norman raised his voice, and he hated the fact that he had to resort to that. “There are still a lot I don’t know about this, about me. Today, I don’t want to go deeper and find answers. Today, I just want to have a nice walk, with a good friend.” He sighed. This was the one thing he didn’t want to happen. “We can talk about whatever, except for this. Okay?”
For a few moments, Neil was silent. This time, the silence was unbearable. “Alright. Sorry,” he finally spoke. There was a lightness in his tone that Norman had begun to miss. “Just… when you’re ready, please talk about this with us. We’ll always be there to listen.”
“I will.” Norman smiled as he turned to face Neil. “Thanks for understanding, Nei-”
Norman froze. Neil had disappeared without a trace.
“Neil?”
His voice rang in the silence. No response came. His breathing was the only sound that could be heard.
Norman spun around, his head darting to the right. The road, the buildings on other side of the street, the few cars that were parked by the sidewalk; they were all suddenly gone. Norman’s head darted again, this time to the left, to find that the slightly rundown pawn shop right next to him had vanished. He spun around again, once, twice. His blood began to run cold. All around him, for as far as his eyes could see, was nothing. Just a blank, empty, overwhelmingly white space.
Norman sighed. “Gimme a break,” he moaned.
He really just wanted a nice walk.
Footsteps clacking against stone echoed throughout the empty space. The sound sent Norman into high alert, and he let energy surge down to his wrists, just in case. His eyes narrowed, searching the white space for the source of the sound. With every second that passed, he couldn’t help but grow more restless, until, with a start, his eyes landed upon a ripple, a disturbance in the smooth white plane.
It was a figure quite a distance away from him, with some sort of pure white blanket draped over their form, making them nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the white space. They had a rather short stature, shorter than even Norman. Their form was hunched over, slowly shuffling their way across the white plane. Their feet dragged across the featureless floor as they moved, but somehow their footsteps sounded as if they were clacking against stone. Norman wasn’t quite sure why yet, but as he’s looking at them, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the figure felt… familiar. Maybe it was because of how frail they looked, or maybe from how timid and nervous their movement seemed, but somehow, the figure reminded Norman of…
“Aggie?”
The figure stopped, their posture straightening. They had no doubt heard Norman’s voice. However, before Norman could say another word, they suddenly began running, away from Norman, deeper into the white space.
A strange, vague whisper told him the figure was indeed a girl. A strange, vague whisper told him she’s not who he thought she was. A strange, vague whisper told him to follow her, immediately.
So he did.
Norman lost track of how long he spent chasing after her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to close the distance between them, but at the same time, the girl didn’t seem to be pulling ahead. The landscape began to change as he chased her. Norman didn’t realize it at first, but shapes began to emerge from the white space on either side of him. They started as formless, abstract blobs, but the more he ran, the more the shapes coalesced. Eventually, they were coherent enough for Norman to recognize as buildings. Still slightly fuzzy, strange, foreign buildings; definitely not modern, but not ancient either. They stretched high into the shapeless sky, casting a shadow over both Norman and the girl. The floor had also begun to shift, the featureless floor turning cobbled, marble tiles. It was essentially an alleyway, Norman realized, and it stretched ahead endlessly for as far he could see.
More time passed; enough for Norman to realize that he wasn’t getting tired. He couldn’t help but think that maybe this would never end. A brief thought passed his mind, of stopping and letting the girl run, just to see what would happen. He quickly pushed the thought away. However long it would take, he just needed to see the end of it.
The girl suddenly slowed to a stop. Norman skidded to a halt.
The environment around them solidified into the clearest state that it has ever been. The girl stood in the middle of an empty courtyard, bathed in the light. A road stretched beyond her, flanked from either side by rows upon rows of buildings. There were two other roads, one to her left and one to her right, also flanked by the same foreign buildings that festered this strange space. Four towers, rising higher than the rest of the buildings, dotted each corner of the courtyard. Norman hung behind, still in the alleyway, covered by the shadows.
Norman waited for a moment; see if the girl would start running again. As time passed, and she didn’t, Norman felt it was time for him to call out to her.
“Agatha? Is that you?”
His words echoed against the strange buildings. The girl said nothing. She stayed completely motionless, not giving him any kind of response. Norman hesitated to approach her. Aggie would have answered him.
“Who are you?” Norman tried.
This time, the girl slightly tilted her head towards Norman, as if to signal that she heard him. She shuffled her feet, slowly turning in place. Norman held his breath. Just a few more steps and the girl’s visage will finally be revealed to him.
Suddenly, a screech. A noise, terrible and deafening, that pierced the peculiar serenity of the space. It was a sound that could only be made by an inhuman beast, and yet at the same time it felt disturbingly human. Norman clamped his hands against his ears, wincing in pain, crumpling to his knees just from the sound assaulting his senses. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the girl bent over too, her hands clutching the sides of her head. Faintly, he heard the sound of a little girl crying.
The screech subsided. Norman still winced as he brought his hands down. His ears were ringing. He felt more than a little dazed. But, through it all, he caught the sound of something breaking through the air. It had a steady, rhythmic beat, reminding Norman of wings flapping. That sound came from above.
Norman looked up, and his eyes widened. Descending from the formless sky was some kind of massive, winged beast, its form almost entirely cloaked in shadow. It dived down at speeds that didn’t match its massive form, straight towards the girl.
Norman barely had time to open his mouth, to warn the girl, before a blur of black swooped down to where she stood, then immediately taking off back upwards to the formless sky. A massive gust of wind picked up from the beast’s sudden dive, so strong that Norman had to raise his arms to shield himself from it, and even then it still nearly knocked him onto his back. As the wind settled, Norman slowly, tentatively peeked through his raised arms, and with a start, he gasped in shock. The girl was nowhere to be seen. The only trace of her left was the pure white blanket that once covered her form, fluttering through the air, slowly floating down to a rest upon the cobbled streets
Norman found himself taking step after step towards the discarded blanket, almost entranced by it. In his eyes, for brief moments at a time, it was like the blanket shined, and all that Norman could do was to reach for that light. Tenderly, Norman bent down and picked it up. However, after only seconds in his hands, the blanket suddenly unraveled itself, yarn slipping through his fingers and falling to the floor. Norman just stared. His fingers were suddenly numb. He’s suddenly shivering. He had no idea when, or how, it had gotten so cold.
He heard a thunderous rumble, of something large and heavy crashing against stone, from his north. He heard a second rumble, this time from his west. He heard a third, from his east. Last, he heard a fourth, from his south. Norman gulped, and looked up.
Four winged beasts, their forms hazy and indistinct, almost entirely cloaked by shadows, except for their eyes. They perched upon the four towers that dotted the four corners of the courtyard. Each stared at Norman closely, pointedly, a pair of eyes trained on every move that he made.
One stared with obsidian eyes. Its movements were jittery, erratic. It slinked around and around the tower like a rabid dog, barely holding itself back from pouncing and tearing him limb from limb. Norman could have sworn it was drooling.
One stared with emerald eyes. It had placed the tower between itself and Norman. Its movements made it almost seem to be peeking from behind the tower, like it was scared. But the eyes looked vicious, cruel, studying Norman, picking apart at his weaknesses, searching for the most painful method to destroy him.
One stared with cerulean eyes. It maneuvered around its perch with ease, with a grace that was both beautiful and dangerous. The eyes carry a peculiar gleam of playfulness, as if it doesn’t consider Norman to be a threat. It acted as if, if it wanted, it could kill him easily, like it was simply a game.
One stared with crimson eyes. It had its head held up high, looming over him, looking down at him with condescension and contempt. The eyes were filled with hatred, but not the hate that one would hold against an enemy. It was the hate one would hold against a bug, an insect, an insignificant thing that could only be a nuisance. It considered Norman a nuisance. It considers everything, everyone, a nuisance. It was the one above all, and all were below him.
Norman was surrounded. He should run. If he was fast, he could slip back into the alleyway, where the beasts would be too large to follow. But a strange, vague whisper told him to stand his ground.
So he did.
The obsidian-eyed beast leapt from its tower and dived, gliding just above the streets, across the courtyard, full speed, straight towards Norman. Frantic, Norman held out his hands, energy already surging towards his fingertips. The beast lashed out with a claw, and Norman unleashed his charge. There was a brief, blinding flash of yellow. Norman stumbled backwards, knees growing weak, but managed to stay on his feet. The beast was blasted away, slamming against the buildings on the sides, and with enough force to leave a mark on the walls. It stayed there for a while, smoke rising out from its form, but the edges of its extremities still twitched now and again. It was hurt, but still very much alive.
Norman cried out when he suddenly felt something sharp pushing against his back, and cried out again when something large and heavy pushed him down to his front, pinning him against the cobbled streets. Norman tried to push himself up with all his might, but his effort was only rewarded with a vicious slam against the ground, knocking the wind out his lungs. Still wincing in pain, he craned his neck to look over his shoulder, and was greeted by a pair of cerulean eyes, only inches away from his face.
Those eyes sent a chill down his spine. He knew all he had to do to get the beast off of him was to summon his lightning, but under that gaze, he couldn’t will it into existence. He was absolutely, devastatingly terrified.
Those eyes soon left him, but the beast still had him pinned. It turned its attention upwards, to the formless sky, and Norman unwittingly followed its gaze. The other two winged beasts, the emerald-eyed and the crimson-eyed ones, had taken flight and were circling the courtyard, like hungry vultures around a fresh corpse. The shadows cloaking them left a trail as they flew around and around, and, somehow, the shadows seemed to grow in size. With every passing moment, with every revolution they made, the shadows grew larger and larger, until it nearly blocked out the formless sky.
The obsidian-eyed beast, the one Norman blasted against the wall, had finally recovered. It shook off the last of its injuries, sent Norman one last hateful glare, before launching into the sky and joining the other two beasts in leaving an ever-growing trail of black. With three winged beasts, the sky quickly turned pitch black. Even the buildings around the courtyard were swiftly consumed by the vortex of darkness.
The cerulean-eyed beast leaned down close once more, and Norman flinched as it brought down a claw to caress his cheeks, almost gently so, before leaping off of him and vanishing into the darkness above.
The winged beasts might be gone, but the darkness they left were still growing. The sky, the buildings, the towers; all had disappeared into the darkness. It showed no intention of stopping, as it inched closer and closer to Norman’s prone form. Norman’s heart hammered in his chest. Cold sweat dripped down his neck. All that he could think of doing was to curl up into himself, clamp his hands against his ears, and shut his eyes as tightly as he could.
The darkness is here. The darkness has consumed him.
Cold. Silent. Alone.
“Norman!”
Norman gasped for air. The darkness was gone. The ground was solid concrete. The sky was white, with bits of snow slowly falling down. Neil was kneeling next to him, his eyes filled with nothing but warm concern. Frantically looking around, he suddenly found himself in the middle of an intersection, with cars from all sides blaring their horns at them.
“Dude, are you okay?” Neil asked, gently placing an arm around Norman.
Neil tried to slowly bring Norman up to a sitting position, but Norman immediately sprang up, roughly taking hold of Neil’s shoulders, his gaze meeting Neil’s, his eyes wild and terrified.
“Call the team. Right now.”
-
Norman just can’t catch a break, huh? Well, I guess that also extends to the rest of the MK. This is, after all, going to be their problem.
Wow, this one stretched on for quite a bit. My original plan for this chapter was just the vision that Norman had, so it’s like a dream sequence. The walk and the whole talk with Neil was a bit of a last minute decision. I’m happy that I ended up including it, though. It pointed out some pretty important things, especially about some stuff that happened in Weirdmageddon.
Sorry this took so long to come out. I got caught up in a bunch of problems, both externally and internally, and my writing suffered as a result. I know I promised four chapters this month, but at this point, that is pretty much impossible. Looks like this chapter will be the last one I post in 2018. But hey, on the bright side, I think the next chapter is a perfect way to kick off the new year. Hope you’re looking forward to it!
Happy New Year and have a great holiday, y’all!
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Untouchable 15 - The End [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Sorry about the long wait my loves, here’s the final chapter, I hope you will like it !
The previous chapters are on my masterlist<3
Pleasure has a price Bucky Barnes can’t afford. What happens when he falls in love with someone he shouldn’t have?
Summary: Future holds many possibilities.
Characters: Reader x Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Word Count: 3336
Warnings: Mentions of sex, explicit language.
This felt exactly like that pleasant, numb state where you couldn’t exactly tell whether you were sleeping or awake.
There were voices though. Different voices.
“What’s that around her neck?”
“Listen, if HYDRA did this-“
“Maybe they put that necklace, it could help us somehow.”
But God, why did it have to be so cold?
“Go get Barnes and Captain Rogers.”
“Why does she have his-”
“I said go rookie, now!”
There were a bunch of lights flashing behind your closed eyelids, a wave of voices until they retreated, letting you pull yourself from the soft and warm realm of sleep.
Then you woke up with a gasp and sat up in bed, breathing hard and looking around, fear crashing down on you, you had to get out, get somewhere else, get to the-
“Darling?”
You turned your head to see the owner of the voice, and blinked a couple of times, your mind screaming at you as soon as it dawned on you.
“Bucky?” you breathed out, your heart still pounding in your ears. He looked different than what you remembered, his hair was longer, and the carefree light in his eyes was gone, compared to before. His clothes were also different, and he was wearing a leather jacket and gloves even though you were pretty sure you were indoors.
“What-where am I? What happened to you?”
“Just-“ he approached you and sat beside you, “How do you feel?”
“Confused!” you exclaimed, “When did you- how long have I been sleeping?”
“A while.”
“Bucky.”
“Around seventy years.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach and you jumped up from the bed to rush to the window to see your reflection, frowning slightly.
“Very funny,” you turned to him, “I look the same. So do you, except for the hair and…” you motioned at him, “What is happening? Am I dreaming?”
“No,” he shook his head, “But um…you might want to sit down for this.”
You crossed your arms, still glaring at him even if all you wanted to do was to hug him and be closer to him, no matter what game he was playing.
“I’m not sitting down until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Doll-“
“Also lose the gloves for God’s sake, it’s warm here, what is this a new style?”
Bucky nibbled on his lip, deep in thought, then pulled the gloves off his hands and shed the jacket, and your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell on his arm that seemed to be made of metal.
It took you almost half a minute to pull yourself together before you managed to meet his eyes, then bit inside your cheek and made your way to the bed to sit down.
“Okay,” you said slowly, “Okay. Tell me what is happening then.”
***
Maybe you weren’t supposed to ask the questions you didn’t want to be answered, because in this case, you definitely didn’t need this.
Any of this. Whatever this was.
A part of you still refused to believe it.
Everything that happened for the rest of the day felt like some sort of absurd dream. You were taken to a high tower, introduced to some people –Avengers, if you recalled right-, as well as being informed by some agents. Bucky never left your side even for a minute, and eventually you grew too tired to even answer any of their questions so you let him take you to his apartment.
The road was so strange though. You knew you were still in Brooklyn, but everything looked so different that you could’ve been anywhere really.
“Well, your place is different than I remember,” you tried to joke as you walked into his apartment and he smiled at you slightly.
“Not that different,” he said and you raised your brows, looking around. You had to admit that it looked more….familiar than the tower, especially with the way Bucky decorated it, as if trying to capture a small part of old times. The record player at the corner of the living room made you bite inside your cheek as you remembered the last time you had played a song in his place, and crossed your arms, taking a look at the black and white photos.
“Are you hungry?”
You shook your head, then reached out to drag your fingertips over the smooth surface of the photo.
“Your family?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, “That’s uh…. That’s Becca. She’s in a nursing home now though.”
You could feel the burning at the back of your eyes, but managed to blink back the tears.
“I don’t think anyone I know is alive,” you mumbled, “Thomas, maybe. None of the girls.”
“We can check.”
“My line of work doesn’t really allow dying of old age,” you hesitated for a moment, “Or…didn’t.”
Bucky shook his head fervently, “You never have to do that again. Ever.”
You scoffed a bitter laugh, and pulled your gaze off the pictures.
“No Mrs. Barnes?” you asked him, “I’m not seeing any wedding pictures here.”
Bucky shook his head again, a laugh escaping from his lips.
“Yeah, this dame in 40s did a number on me.”
You tilted your head, shooting him a questioning look, “Seventy something years is a long time to mourn, Sarge.”
He heaved a shaky breath, as if he had missed hearing that in all those years and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I spent most of those years….”
“Brainwashed,” you finished his sentence “Damn it- right, sorry.”
“No it’s okay,” he said, “And when I became-well, myself again, I couldn’t….” he trailed off, “They told me you died, Y/N. When I was at the front. Couple of weeks before HYDRA got to me.”
“Yeah, General said he would do that,” a bitter taste appeared in your mouth, “So this HYDRA, if- if they did that to you, they did it to use you, to assassinate people. But I don’t think I-“ you frowned slightly, “What did they do to me?”
“They’re trying to crack the files back at the tower right now.”
“I’m sorry, crack the-?”
“Right,” he smiled, “Sorry. There’s a code on those files, and it can destroy them, so we’re trying to get it out without damaging any of the information.”
“Who’s we?”
“Steve and Sam are handling it right now. When he said that to you, did he…” his jaw clenched as he trailed off and you shook your head.
“He threatened me and I um- I lost consciousness, I woke up here.” You rubbed at your eyes, “Decades later- Jesus, this is fucked…”
“I know.”
“This shouldn’t be possible,” you lowered your hands, “I- I don’t even know what they did to me, and we’re here and you’re here and I-“ you could feel your breath getting caught in your throat as Bucky approached you the same way somebody would approach a feral but wounded animal, slowly and carefully, “I don’t even know how to survive here-“
“Darling, hey,” his voice was low, and he pulled you closer to himself to embrace you in his arms, letting you bury your nose into his shirt, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Just breathe, alright? We’re going to figure it out together, I promise you nothing bad will happen to you, not anymore, not ever.”
You nodded slowly, still holding onto him tight but pulled back when the doorbell rang. You tried to pull yourself together, wiping at your eyes before noticing his worried gaze on you.
“It’s okay,” you told him, “Really.”
He nodded and walked to the door,
“Wait, already?” you heard his voice as soon as he opened it and Sam and Steve walked inside.
“Yeah uh… we need to talk,” Sam said “To both of you.”
“What?” you asked him, “You- um- crashed the files?”
“Cracked.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “That. Did you?”
They exchanged glances with each other as Bucky grabbed the file from Steve to skim the lines, then froze, his glance snapping up to you. You let out an impatient breath, and snatched it out of his hands to take a look at what was written inside,
“The subject shows signs of manipulating others through desire-“ you murmured, and followed the lines with your finger before you reached the end, your heart beating in your ears as the anger filled your system.
“This is wrong,” you told them, “Must be. There’s been a mistake.”
“There were multiple video recordings,” Steve mumbled, “Whatever they gave you to experiment on you, it made you….enhanced.”
“Enhanced,” you repeated, “What the hell does that mean?”
“Whatever they did led to you gaining a specific power,” Sam said, “Just like Wanda. Just like other experiment subjects.”
“And my power is-“
“…They called you Seductress.” Steve muttered gently, as if trying his hardest to make it sound alright, “But apparently at a specific point, you almost escaped using your power, so they had to freeze you back.”
“I’m not-“ you stammered, “I don’t feel any different.”
“We don’t know what triggers it yet,” Steve said, “We just know it doesn’t work on other enhanced people. Probably doesn’t work on Bucky or me either, because of the serum.”
You felt as if you would throw up, then shook your head,
“I need a moment, excuse me.” You managed to say and walked out of the apartment, Steve stopping Bucky as soon as he attempted to follow you, muttering something to him about HYDRA. You made your way downstairs, then stepped out the door to inhale the cold weather, closing your eyes for a moment.
Seductress.
They had made you into something they could use, just like the others.
Just like everyone else in your life.
You opened your eyes again, shaking your head then a girl smoking a couple feet away from you captured your attention.
“Hey, could I get one?” you asked her and she nodded before you took a cigarette from her,
“Thanks.” You told her as she lit it, and exhaled the smoke while she walked away. The door opened and Sam stepped outside, then offered you a small smile.
“Can I join you?”
You shrugged slightly, then offered him the cigarette but he shook his head.
“Nah, I don’t use it.”
“Lucky you.” You said, staring into space and he cleared his throat.
“Rogers is in there trying to talk sense into your boyfriend.”
“Not possible but I appreciate the attempt,” you mumbled “Have you seen them?”
“Seen what?”
“The records.”
Sam shifted his weight, “Yeah. Some of them.”
“And what do I-“ you tried to blink back the tears, “What do I do?”
“Not what you’re thinking right now,” he said slowly, “The records that I saw, you… you just ordered a dude to do whatever you wanted. It’s like hypnosis, mostly. They just- listen to you.”
“Because of seduction.”
“Seductress is a weird way to put it, HYDRA isn’t very creative,”
You scoffed, “Yeah? What would you call me then?”
“Weird Hypnotic Chick.”
You tried to smile, then shook your head, looking elsewhere.
“Of all the things,” you muttered, “Of all the powers…. Decades later and I still can’t escape my past.”
“Yeah, not the best super power out there,” Sam agreed with you, “I’d pick super strength. Or super speed.”
“I’d be invisible.”
He turned to look at you, “What?”
“Yeah. I’d- if I could pick a superpower. Invisibility.”
“Why?”
You wiped at your nose, then exhaled the smoke again, “People would leave me alone then,” you mumbled, “I’d be able to escape people’s gaze, and I could- I could-“ you looked down at the cigarette, “I could escape from…seducing people. I don’t want it anymore.”
A silence fell upon you and Sam clicked his tongue,
“If it makes you feel any better, you’re really not my type.”
You couldn’t stop the laughter escaping from your lips and you turned to him, eyebrows raised,
“What?”
“You’re not my type. Sorry,” he held up his hands, “I know it’s tough to hear it but….facts.”
You already knew Sam would become one of your favorite people in the world, very fast.
“It is tough to hear it,” you nodded, still smiling, “Wow. I don’t know what to do now.”
“Yeah, aside from your terrible taste in men, and uh, smoking, and-“ he motioned at you, “Everything else, you also have weird elbows.”
You gawked at him for a couple of seconds, then burst into a laughter, clutching at your stomach. He chuckled, still keeping his eyes on you and you shook your head slightly as you threw the cigarette butt on the sideway.
“Thank you.” You said, “I uh… it means a lot.”
“Sure thing,” he told you, “So do you wanna stay here a bit longer to give him a heart attack? Because I totally support that.”
You scoffed, then shook your head again.
“Let’s go,” you nodded at the door, “I should learn more about my powers, I suppose.”
***
Well the future was…interesting for sure.
You still had no idea what triggered your powers, or how to catch up with the 21st century really, but at least you had Bucky.
Who looked like he was trying his hardest to maintain some distance from you.
It wasn’t that you expected everything to be the same, not after decades, but for you it felt as if it had been only couple of days since you had seen him in that wretched prison cell back in 40s and you were still together in a way.
Not that you could blame him. It was a long time after all.
But he still looked so handsome that he managed to make your heartbeat go crazy whenever he was anywhere near your sight. But throughout years, at least you had learned how to keep your desires hidden so while he, Sam and Steve talked about getting more information about your powers from the files that couldn’t be cracked yet, you kept your whole attention on the news you were currently reading on this electronic device Bucky called a tablet.
You had missed out so much in the last couple of decades.
“I mean when we find the trigger words it will be easier,” Sam said and Steve heaved a sigh.
“Tony is still working on it downstairs, but I was thinking Shuri could help. She did it before with you.”
Bucky nodded, “I’ll try to get in touch with her,” he said and turned to you, “Y/N?”
You looked up from the tablet, “Is this all real?”
“Hm?”
“These news, is this all real? Like everything I read in here, it’s happening?”
“Yeah.” Steve said and you scoffed.
“The world is a mess.”
“Oh yeah,” Sam muttered, “You’d be surprised.”
“Jesus Christ, how do people not feel bad after seeing all this?” you motioned at the tablet and Bucky thought for a moment.
“You get used to it,” he said, “Are you hungry? Dinner?”
“I’m not that hungry but I could eat.”
Bucky cleared his throat and stole a look at Steve who just shrugged.
“I’m not hungry-“
“It’s time for us to go,” Sam elbowed him before a look of realization dawned on Steve’s face.
“Right- Avengers thing.”
“Oh I can eat alone if you’re busy,” you told Bucky who shook his head fervently.
“I’m not busy.”
“Aren’t you a part of the team?”
“We got this, no worries.” Sam grinned and grabbed his jacket, “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.”
“Yeah, see you,” Steve said and you waved at them as they closed the door. You pressed your lips together and tilted your head at Bucky who looked almost embarrassed.
“That was very subtle,” you commented as he shifted his weight.
“Yeah I was hoping they wouldn’t make it that obvious,” he muttered, “I um- would you like to go out tonight?”
“Yeah,” you nodded fervently, “Sure thing. I was actually wondering how Brooklyn looks now, I saw some parts when I was in the car but…”
Bucky smiled and offered you his hand, making you let out a giggle as you took it and stood up.
“I think I know exactly where I should take you.”
***
To be perfectly honest, Bucky could’ve taken you anywhere and you would be happy with it as long as you were with him, but you had no idea where you were. After getting out of the car he had asked if you would want to walk around and of course you had said, thinking that you would get a sight of anything familiar, but there wasn’t any.
They had changed the whole city while you were frozen.
“Looks very different, doesn’t it?” Bucky asked and you shrugged slightly.
“I have no idea where we are,” you tilted your head to shoot him a mischievous look, “Are you kidnapping me Sarge?”
He scrunched up his nose, “You still don’t trust me huh?”
“Can’t be too careful.” You joked, and clicked your tongue, “So? Where are we then?”
He hmmed, “I will give you a clue.”
“Okay.”
“First date.”
You raised your brows, “The- the coffee house?”
“Before that.”
You narrowed your eyes for a moment before the thought crashed down on you and your jaw dropped before you turned around, looking up to see a clue of what this place used to be, but of course everything looked very modern.
“The ruins?” You heard your own breathless whisper and he smiled,
“The ruins,” he repeated, “The city got rid of the building or what was left of it about fifty years ago, but I tracked it down.”
“I didn’t think you would remember that,” you trailed off, “I thought you… with everything that happened-“
“I’d move on?”
“You’ve been keeping your distance since we learned about this HYDRA thing,” you admitted and his eyes snapped to yours before he took a deep breath,
“When I first came back,” he said, “I needed my space. I needed to figure out who I was, and I thought you- I thought it would be better if I didn’t pressure you into anything, not when you’re still adjusting.”
You could feel your heart melting as you tried to blink back tears and his eyes searched yours.
“And I’m still not pressuring you into anything,” he said, “I just- I need you to know. After decades, after HYDRA, after everything, I’m still in love with you. I always will be, and if you-“ he couldn’t say the rest of what he was going to say when you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his. His palm cupped your cheek and pressed you closer to him, making you smile and that familiar warmth spread through your system before you pulled back slightly.
“Still a smooth talker, aren’t you Sarge?” you asked, making him chuckle and he stole another kiss from your lips.
“I try.”
You dragged your fingernails over the back of his neck gently, and heaved a sigh.
“But what about these powers?” you asked, “Are you sure they can- they can fix this? That I won’t put you or anyone else in danger?”
“Shuri is a genius,” he explained, “She helped me, and I’m sure she would help you. She’s the best.”
“You will be there though?” you insisted and he entwined his fingers with yours,
“Of course darling. As long as you want me to.”
You didn’t even try to hide the smile pulling at your lips, then took a deep breath and looked around.
“Let’s go back home.”
Bucky looked almost confused, “Don’t you want to eat first?”
“No, not really,” you said, “I want to do something else though.”
“What is that?”
As it turned out, Bucky was right all those years ago.
Maybe you would get to have your happy ending after all.
You grinned before you pulled him down for another kiss, and looked up at him before pulling him towards the car.
“Making new memories Sarge,” you said, “We have decades to make up for, don’t you think?”
THE END
@rhabakoli @rmwest94 @finnickfoxes @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @fictionwillneverdie @superwolfchild-fan @marauderskeeper @propertyofpoeandbucky @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lettersofwrittencollective @i-am-always-famished @small-round-and-angry @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @geekandbooknerd @mamaraptor @j-finco @the-omni-princess @supercarricat @anxietysucks @fortisfiliae @stopitchris @nea90sweetie @theladybiers @aikeji @littledarlinhavefaithinme @marvelgirl7 @starkrobb @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @paramorefold @alytavzla @youclickedthislink @lexlikestoread @hangirl93 @bucky-5eva @thisyouth @xnnskwjeheb2j
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky imagines#bucky x reader#the winter soldier#untouchable
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Fake Dating Holiday AU Part Two
part one
Dirthamen and the rest of the Evanuris Family is based on @feynites writing.
(Their first party. Surely this will go well.)
“So...” Selene whispers, rubbing her hands together in a poor attempt to warm herself up. “A tree lighting.”
“Yes,” Dirthamen says from his space beside her, tall and straight and appropriately bundled in a thick scarf and several layers of coats and gloves and probably some very long socks.
Socks that are likely much, much more useful than the stupid stockings Des had tossed at her while insisting they work 'just as well'.
They bloody well don't.
“I assumed we'd be watching from the park. Like the rest of the crowd.”
“That is...not the way my family works.”
“Yep,” Selene nods, holding back on her grimace as she overlooks the swarm of people completely filling in the courtyard around the ornately decorated Vhenadahl, decked out in ribbons and strings of lights and dangling pieces of glass and plastics from the private balcony they had been ushered to. She hadn't even known private balconies existed inside the alienage. “Picked up on that.”
“We do not have to stay the full length of the party,” He assures her. “Once my father has finished with the lights, we should only need to stay for an hour or two before we may take our leave.”
“Right,” Selene nods, tamping down on a chill as another gust of wind blows through her. “The party itself is indoors though, I hope?”
“It is.”
“Thank the gods,” She sighs in relief, both at his answer and as the long haired figure of his father steps out into the courtyard to a raucous wave of cheers.
The ceremony itself isn't too terribly long, at least. Elgar'nan Evanuris makes a stirring speech about the endurance of the elven people and the techs only need to turn the microphone down once to adjust for the boom of his voice, which is far from the worst she's seen. At one of the quarterly reviews he showed up to, they had to shut down the microphone entirely only a few minutes into his speech because he just didn't need it in the size of the hall they were occupying.
Selene glances over at Dirthamen and wonders for a moment how such a soft, internally drawn and quiet man, came from someone who can throw open his arms and simultaneously light hundreds of candles surrounding the courtyard, sending wisps to light up and across the stretching branches of the vhenadahl, the strings of light following their trails while the crowd cheers and applauds and breaks out into celebration at the echo of his laugh.
“It's a bit sanctimonious, isn't it?” Selene mentions without thought, eyes still staring at the lights dancing around the large sacred tree. “I mean, his name is Elgar'nan. He's already been named after the god of the sun, but he's here, lighting up the one thing city elves have left to celebrate their heritage with, the one shred of their culture they've managed to cling to and he's opened it up to anyone willing to pay an entry fee,” Selene glances around the courtyard, and sees no trace of the usual occupants of the alienage. No children in clothing of the wrong size, no adults with faces gaunt from hunger rather than surgery, not even a particularly large proportion of elves to humans, all things considered. “And closed it off to anyone who couldn't, it seems.”
“Many of these events will be sanctimonious,” Dirthamen admits quietly beside her. “It is the way things are done.”
“Why?” Selene asks, staring up at the sky overhead. Most of the stars are imperceptible from their balcony, dimmed out by the light of the tree and the surrounding city. “Who is this sort of event actually for...?”
Dirthamen is staring at her when she finally looks away from the dark of the night, the tips of his ears and nose rosy in the cold of the evening air.
His expression is difficult to read, even for her.
“Sorry,” She says, hands wringing slightly. “I didn't mean-I didn't mean any offense.”
“None was taken,” He assures her.
There is another gust of wind and this time Selene can't help but shiver as the cold of it rushes through her, raising goosebumps and pushing her curls into her face. Her hand has barely pushed them out of her eyes before Dirthamen has closed the distance between them, taking her hand in his as he shoves one of his gloves over it.
Selene swallows, her view all at once consumed by the grey blue of his eyes, distracted as they are with her hand.
“I should have given you more adequate instructions for keeping warm at these events,” He apologizes, tugging slightly on the band wrapped around her wrist to ensure it is covering her quite snugly. The material is very soft, but covering her hand has left his own bare and exposed and it shouldn't feel quite so scandalous, really. But something about the naked skin contrasted with the rest of his dark layers feels intensely intimate, and the fact that the only thing separating that skin from her own is a very soft, pliant material feels at once not enough of a barrier and far, far too much of one.
She opens her mouth, ostensibly to thank him for the glove, but the sound of her actual boss interrupts the moment before she can.
“Selene!” Sylaise Evanuris calls as she strides out onto the balcony. “I'd heard the rumors, but imagine my shock to see it with my own eyes-you really are dating my brother!”
“Sylaise!” Selene greets, yanking her hand out of Dirthamens grasp without thought. “Yes-I-yes. We're dating! Yes!”
“Sister,” Dirthamen greets with a polite nod of his head, tucking his bared hand into the pocket of his coat.
“And he's just hogging you all to himself out here, hm?” She tsks, looping her arm through Selenes elbow. “Poor dear. You must be freezing, and he hasn't even offered you his coat I'll bet. It's not his fault, he simply missed out on the sense gene of the family. He'll learn, certainly you'll teach him now won't you, sister dearest?”
“Uh-”
“Of course his sense of dress could use an upgrade as well. I suppose if you're into the all black but not quite stylish enough to be Gothic look he's doing well enough, but honestly he acts as though he's allergic to color sometimes. I'm sure you'll get him all squared up there though, your wardrobe is full of colors from what I recall isn't it?”
“I like Dirthamens clothes-”
“Well that's because he can get away with it. He's quite handsome underneath everything, good genes you know, but if he'd just put in a bit of effort-”
“I imagine the good looking genes are the ones he shares with you,” Selene interjects, eager to get Sylaise onto literally any topic other than Dirthamens perceived flaws.
It works.
Sylaise lights up, mouth stretching into a grin Selene swears she's seen on Des as she tightens the arm she has looped through her elbow and starts pulling her into the party
“Well of course it is! It skips a generation you know, poor Falon'din and Andruil just can't compare so they make up with it by being brutes barely capable of holding a conversation that doesn't involve describing some gruesome scene, but I'm sure you're already well familiar with all that.”
“She hasn't met the rest of the family yet,” Dirthamen mentions from where he is trailing behind them. “This is her first event, and I was hoping to put off-”
“Oh!” Sylaise exclaims, tugging Selene off to a sharp right. “Well, we'll have to fix that then won't we.”
Selene shoots Dirthamen one last glance, mouthing out the word 'HELP' as clearly as she can manage, but Sylaise is too used to the movement of crowds, slipping smoothly through swaths of people and leaving Dirthamen far behind them.
There's a reassuring pat on her arm as he vanishes and Selene glances down at Sylaise who seems much more calm and composed than she had only a moment ago.
“Don't worry,” She says. “If I left it up to Dirthamen he'd be dithering on the balcony with you all night, and it'll only make things worse if you wait. Better for Falon'din to see you away from him, first.”
Selene blinks, temporarily impressed with Sylaise.
“Ah, there's Andruil! Give me a moment to ply her away from her wife and make sure they're both decent for you to say hello to.”
...And then it's gone, the same sort of unsettled and out of place feeling she gets from going out with Des heavy in her gut.
“Selene,” Sylaise says, returning with a taller elven woman with similar soft facial features but hair dark and jaw as sharp as Dirthamens “This is Andruil, my elder sister. Her wife Ghilan'nain will be joining us in a moment, I believe...?” Sylaise glances up at Andruil for confirmation, but gets only a shrug for her trouble.
“'Sup,” Andruil greets. “You're the one dating Dirthamen?”
“Word travels fast,” Selene says, trying for a smile.
“It's big news,” Andruil admits. “He doesn't really...do things. Or people,” she snickers.
Selene lets the smile drop, straightening her spine enough that with the added inch from her heels, she manages to stand just taller than the other woman. “Agree to disagree, I suppose.”
“So you are having sex then?” Adds in another voice, skulking out of the corner. A smaller woman wearing a headband with what look like golden halla horns growing out of it appears and slides her fingers through Andruils, practically leaning on her wives left side. “There's a betting pool going you know. Not about his sex life, just in general.”
“That's...” Selene hesitates.
Nope, she can't think of a better word right now.
“...weird.”
“Would you like to join it?” Ghilan'nain asks, sounding somehow as though she doesn't care either way but is also very invested in the answer.
“Mmmmaybe?” Selene manages.
This seems to be the right answer, as Ghilan'nains features soften into a smile.
“That's good. I'll add your name.”
“Wait, what are you putting me down as betting on-”
“Oh, they've finally brought out the sangria!” Sylaise interrupts. “Selene, come share some with me. I'm sure introductions were lovely, but we have lots to see tonight!”
Selene frowns and attempts a polite wave as Sylaise drags her away from the pair and towards the refreshment table.
“It's better not to ask Ghilan'nain too many questions,” She advises. “Most of the time, you won't like the answers.”
“Right...” Selene says, taking the glass from Sylaise and stabbing one of the floating strawberry bits with the small plastic sun placed on the edge. “I'll keep that in mind.”
“Let's see...”Sylaise hums, scoping out the crowd. “You still need to meet June, but I'll save the best for last. Father will still be busy with the children from the event for a bit longer still, mother is likely doing her own rounds, so that leaves....” She trails off. “Has Dirthamen told you about Falon'din before?”
Selene shakes her head, pulling the sun-stick out of her mouth and swallowing the alcohol soaked piece of strawberry. “Only in passing. Sometimes he comes into the office looking more tired than usual, and his answer is usually just that his brother is visiting, but he never goes into detail.”
“Do you talk often, in the office?”
Selene shrugs. “Mostly just about work.”
Sylaise hums, stirring her drink. “And how exactly did my brother manage to make the leap to ask you out? And how did you say yes? Surely there's a story there.”
She misses the apple slice she was attempting to stab, freezing slightly.
Shit, they'd never discussed their story, had they?
Just that they were pretending to date.
...shit.
“I forgot my lunch one day,” She lies. “And he offered to buy me dinner, too. Not a particularly eventful story, I'm afraid.”
“A smoother line than I would've thought my brother capable of,” Sylaise says with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah well,” Selene shrugs. “...He's full of surprises.”
Sylaise makes another humming noise. “And you said yes because...?”
Selene stares down into her cup, unable to look Sylaise in the face as her own heats up. “I mean, even you admitted he's handsome. And we've been sharing a space for so long, he's already a part of my life, and he's very kind and brilliant and I mean, sure it takes some time to understand him but so what, right? He's a good person and I'm lucky just to be near him, and really, how could someone not like him when he's always saying sweet things and being sincere and just...” Selene shrugs, quietly admitting. “I said yes because I couldn't even conceive the idea of saying no, really. Maybe not the most romantic notion, but...”
Sylaise nudges Selenes shoulder slightly with her own, smiling widely over.
“I think it's very romantic. Alright, you officially have my blessing. Try not to hurt him though; he bruises like a peach.”
Selene blinks, pushing down on the guilt of knowing that their relationship isn't even real, and is on a nearly-literal ticking clock; Dirthamen has already marked their 'break-up' day on their private office calendar.
“I'll do my best.”
–
Meeting Falon'din is like a whirlwind.
One moment she is chatting with Elgar'nan about different theories of fire magics, and the next there is a heavily tattooed man yanking her hand so hard that her wrist nearly twists.
Her vision whites out on instinct, fire growing in her opposite hand as she readies herself to throw it directly into his face and run for the nearest exit-
But Sylaise's hand rests on her shoulder, yanking her consciousness back into her body and forcefully grounding her.
“Where did you steal this from?!” The man screams, holding her hand up between them.
The hand still wearing Dirthamens glove, from the balcony.
She'd completely forgotten to remove it, when she came inside.
“I-”
“You think you can just take shit that doesn't belong to you?” He throws her hand down forcefully, and she hears her shoulder click from the force of it. She lets out a slow breath, counting in her head to try to keep her cool. She can't lose her cool, not here, not now.
He shoves her.
She loses count.
He's yelling, and Elgar'nan is yelling and her ears stop working and the room starts spinning and someone is saying her name and someone else is saying something about her and then a fist with thick rings wraps around her throat-
And she doesn't think.
She pushes him.
...she meant, to push him. Just to get him to let her go, to stop touching her, to get some breathing room back, just enough for a personal bubble.
What she did, though, was fling him across the length of the ballroom with a large white-hot fireball and slam him into the opposite wall.
There is smoke coming from the ashen remains of his coat and the burned skin of his abdomen.
The room is dead silent.
Her hands fly up to cover her mouth in shock, in fear.
In embarrassment.
Ghilan'nain lets out a loud, cackling laugh that breaks through the silence.
“Oh gods, I'm so sorry-I didn't mean-I just-!” Selene tries, stepping towards the elven man just starting to rise to his feet.
Falon'din points an accusatory finger towards her, the other hand carefully hovering over his burns “Did you see what that fucking bitch tried to do to me?! I want her thrown out! I want her jailed! She tried to murder me-!”
“That is enough.”
The voice of the Evanuris family matriarch cuts through the room. The sea of people parts as Mythal Evanuris steps to her sons side.
“Mother-”
“I said enough, Falon'din” she tsks, hands perfectly posed in front of herself. “Go compose yourself, and we can discuss things further when you are in a less manic state.”
Selene wishes for a moment that she could shrink. That she could vanish into the crowd and run and start a new life somewhere else, far away from here.
But she has worked hard to earn what she has now; starting over for a third time sounds exhausting.
And it would require her to leave Dirthamen, who is staring at her now, aghast, from beside Andruil and the still giggling Ghilan'nain.
“You,” Mythal says to Selene, snapping her attention back to the situation at hand. “will come with me.”
It's not a request.
Selene swallows, and quickly follows behind the exiting CEO as the rest of the party goes back to its previous conversations.
Mythal walks down a long series of hallways and turns into a room on the right hand side of the building, leaving the door open in her wake.
Selene follows silently, lingering just inside the room.
“Close the door and take a seat, child,” Mythal says, pouring two glasses of wine out on an old wooden desk, and sitting down in a chair that looks more like a throne.
“We have much to discuss.”
#fake dating holiday au#dirthalene#selene lavellan#wooooo so many characters#hooray introductions#(mostly)
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Blue is the New Red Chapter 46
Masterlist
Note that due to tumblr being ridiculous, I no longer post external links on individual chapters. If you prefer to read on AO3, please refer to the masterlist link above.
Rated: M for torture, flashbacks, trauma reactions, PTSD, sexual assault of minors, consensual sexual content and related freaking out about it, drug references, non-consensual drug use, possibly underage drinking, homophobia and biphobia, references to self-harm, suicidal ideation and attempt. Chapter warnings: animal cruelty, allusions to the sexual assault of minors, mentions of Wally's jerkass dad, hints of PTSD
Main Pairing: Birdflash
Status: Multiple chapters, in progress
Overall summary: Nightwing has finally made his return to the Team, but he finds the events of the past two years aren’t quite done with him yet.
Chapter notes: Batgirl is participating in her first team mission, and Nightwing is finally back on active duty after his long absence.
Additional notes (and an apology): It's been far too long since I last updated. I'm so sorry. I wish I had a good explanation, but the fact is I just could not get myself into the right mindset to write this, let alone reread what I've written so I can remember how it goes. (See a longer explanation on the AO3 page)
Reminder: dialogue in bold is said through M'gann's mind link.
Chapter 46: Reconnaissance (Maybe)
It took Batman three tries before he was able to let Nightwing on the bioship the following morning. If it hadn't been for the smorgasbord of trackers embedded into every piece of Nightwing's uniform, he probably wouldn't have been allowed to go at all.
Batgirl squeaked when the seatbelt fastened itself over her chest. Nightwing, very charitably, he thought, did not laugh.
“You control the ship with your brain?” she asked Miss Martian once she'd recovered.
Miss Martian nodded. “I can also make her respond to commands from non-telepaths. I'll show you how to fly her one day.”
Batgirl rubbed the seatbelt between her gloved fingers. “Maybe once I've gotten used to this.”
“Wait until you see her shapeshifting,” said Kid Flash.
“You just want her to turn into that version of you with boobs again,” said Nightwing.
“Who can blame me? I'm hot.”
“Oh, grow out of your hormones already,” Artemis complained. “You don't hear Nightwing going on like this anymore.”
There was a very specific reason for that, but Nightwing made a conscious decision not to ruin the mood. At least it shut Kid Flash up, probably because he'd had the same thought. Artemis winced and opened her mouth to apologise, but Nightwing waved her off before she could. Better to just move on.
Miss Martian smiled awkwardly and called Batgirl over to show her how the bioship controls worked.
“Batman said he added colour change options to these suits, didn't he?” said Artemis, pressing various spots on the chest logo of her cold-weather uniform until it switched to her usual green. She pressed it again to switch back to white. “Nice.”
“I told him we wouldn't be very covert if we wore white indoors,” said Nightwing. “Nice to see he listened for once.” Nightwing hadn't had call to wear his new cold-weather uniform until today. Similar design to his usual costume, except in white, plus the cowl that had featured on his cold-weather Robin uniform. For the first time in a while, he felt naked without a cape. If the weather proved too punishing, he might have to add one for future missions.
“You stole that idea from me,” Robin complained. Seeing him in the same cold weather uniform Nightwing once wore brought on a feeling of nostalgia that he thought he'd finally gotten over.
“You snooze, you lose,” he said, shaking it off.
Everyone strapped into their seats and Miss Martian willed the ship into flight. It would take a few hours to reach their destination and Nightwing could barely contain his excitement. After such a long time of being stuck on the sidelines due to a never-ending parade of bullshit, he was finally back where he wanted to be, with his best friends in the whole world. There was that nagging fear in the back of his mind about what would happen if they came across the al Ghuls, but the likelihood of that happening was so remote that it didn't take more precedence than that.
Besides, there was nothing better at sharpening his focus than a good old-fashioned team mission. He already felt a thousand times smarter and they'd only just left home base.
“This is exciting,” Batgirl admitted. “I had no idea there was a team like this until a few months ago. How did you convince the Justice League to let you do this?”
“Well, to be fair, it started when KF, Aqualad and I broke into a supervillain's science lab without anyone's permission,” Nightwing said. “Then we found Superboy in a pod and busted him out. We also may have blown up the place, just a little bit.”
“Then we had to wait a thousand years for them to officially approve the team,” Kid Flash added. “Supey crashed at my place in the meantime.” The corner of his mouth tightened. “Well, I wouldn't call it my place anymore...”
“You've mentioned something about your dad before,” said Batgirl. “Ages ago, at that gala where you embarrassed Nightwing with that Enrique Iglesias song.”
“I'm amazed you remember that,” Kid Flash replied. “I don't even remember what I told you.” At least that eased some of the pain out of his expression, even if they were still talking about it.
“I have an eidetic memory,” Batgirl said. “Comes in handy. You mentioned Dick's—I mean Nightwing's—dad took the news about you two better than your own dad did.”
“Yeah...” His mouth tightened again. “He kicked me out of home last year. Been staying with my aunt and uncle.”
“That's horrible. I'm so sorry.”
Kid Flash shrugged, but no one believed he meant it. “My aunt and uncle have had all of us in the same room for a family dinner so it's not like he and Mum are out of my life completely. Just... mostly. I'm gonna invite them to my graduation. No idea if they'll show. No point dwelling on something I can't do anything about.”
Nightwing rested his foot on the edge of Kid Flash's seat; they were too far away for hugging, even if that's what he really wanted to do right now. A friendly foot of support would have to do.
“You really remember everything?” Zatanna asked Batgirl, who grasped onto the change of topic.
“No one remembers everything,” she replied, “but I can get pretty close.”
“Impressive,” said Aqualad.
The conversation very pointedly moved on, but Kid Flash had this faraway look in his eyes, even as he went through the motions of smiling and nodding at what the others said.
“Hey,” Nightwing said quietly. Superboy would hear, but he was pretty good at pretending he couldn't.
Kid Flash sighed. “I'm fine, babe. I just miss them sometimes.”
“I know.”
“I don't know whether I'm more afraid they'll come to my graduation and be horrible, or they won't come at all.”
“You sure you wanna invite them?”
“Yeah. I wanna know they care. If they care.”
“Whatever happens, you're surrounded by people who love you. And we're fully prepared to fight your dad if you want.”
Kid Flash snickered, just a little bit. “Please don't. He'll think we're moving into the final phase of the gay agenda: eliminate the heterosexuals.”
Nightwing cackled. “I'll pencil it in after brunch.”
The issue wasn't resolved, but the levity helped in the short term. Kid Flash relaxed in his seat over time and his father slowly filtered out of everyone's minds. There'd be time to deal with that can of worms later. No need to let it spoil the upcoming excitement of the mission.
Nightwing was so ready for this.
Miss Martian had to land the bioship a mile away from the facility due to a lack of surrounding cover, plus the thermal imaging at the base. Small groups wearing insulated costumes would have a better chance of slipping in undetected.
The team split into their squads and put some distance between each other, the better to trick the sensors. Zatanna prepared a teleportation spell for alpha squad while Nightwing hopped on Kid Flash's back for beta's run to the facility. Rocket expanded her bubble to include Superboy and Robin to improve the speed of gamma.
Alpha would arrive first and relay any immediate findings to the other squads. Batgirl was already a talented hacker and could handle any low-risk hacks, though anything more serious would have to await Nightwing's arrival. Batgirl was a quick study and would surpass him eventually, but that wasn't today.
Nightwing buried his face against Kid Flash's shoulder as they began to move. They screeched to a halt maybe a minute later, but he didn't get the chance to climb down before Batgirl's voice was in his head.
“I've got a virus into the external cameras. Nightwing should be able to take out the infrareds with minimal interference.”
“Thanks, BG.” Nightwing climbed off Kid Flash's back and they pressed themselves against the dull stone wall that surrounded the entire complex.
Miss Martian dropped to the snowy ground and rolled a few times. “There. My body temperature should blend into our surroundings if I'm quick. I'll find the sensors for you.” Martians already ran cooler than humans anyway. She camouflaged and phased through the wall.
“We're definitely safe from the infrared cameras here, right?” said Kid Flash.
“As long as we stick to the wall,” Nightwing replied. “The walls are insulated and the exterior cameras angled to watch for approaching invaders, remember?”
“I may have dozed off in the briefing a little bit.”
Whatever smartass reply Nightwing was cooking up had to be aborted when Miss Martian reappeared. They hugged the wall as they slipped in through a gate, the guard already unconscious, and then legged it to the security station.
Said station was a rickety little shack with a tin roof and a door thicker than its walls. Nightwing slipped inside with Kid Flash while Miss Martian stood guard outside.
Nightwing found a port on the three-monitor computer's CPU and pulled a plug from his wrist computer. He went slowly at first, just poking around in the guts of the programming to see what he had.
“Looks like the al Ghul techs added a shutdown sequence in a hurry,” he said, leafing through the programmers' documentation attached to the code. “Not part of the original programming. It's tied into some functions deeper in the facility.”
“Can you turn them off without alerting anyone?” asked Aqualad.
“I can make it look like a malfunction, but they're gonna know about it.” It wasn't ideal, but that's what he had to work with. “Are you in position? We won't have long to get inside, and we'll have trouble getting out again if they fix the system faster than we can work.”
“Perhaps we should consult Batman. It may affect the League's mission if we are discovered.”
“Make it quick. We had to knock out a guard to get here and I don't know if there are any alarms in this system.”
There were a few tense moments, each longer than the last. Nightwing half-expected they would have to fall back, but Aqualad's voice filled his head again, giving the go-ahead to shut down the infrareds.
It only took a moment. He'd had plenty of time to plan how to do it, after all. Then they hurried out of the security building and through the nearest door, Miss Martian taking point. Invisibly.
“I found an alarm system,” Robin said. “Doesn't look hard to turn off but, you know...”
“Looks can be deceiving?” Nightwing replied.
“Well, this is Ra's al Ghul we're talking about.”
“If you are concerned, perhaps we should leave it alone,” said Aqualad.
“Sure thing, boss,” said Nightwing. “We'll avoid detection the old-fashioned way.”
Kid Flash stifled a snicker beside him. Old-fashioned for him meant tripping over things and falling right into the people they were trying to avoid. So maybe they wouldn't do that.
“Our priority is reconnaissance,” Aqualad pointed out. “No unnecessary risks.”
“You ever notice how our recon missions always end with explosions?” said Kid Flash. Aqualad didn't respond, but his annoyed vibes through the link got the point across. The link wasn't typically strong enough to pick up on specific emotions, but Aqualad was uniquely talented in that regard. He'd certainly had plenty of practice making his frustration with the team's nonsense clear without uttering a word.
The corridors were long and made of soulless concrete. It was not like Ra’s at all. He preferred old-fashioned stone whenever possible, but maybe it didn’t hold the heat in this climate.
“What’re you thinking?” asked Kid Flash
“This place doesn’t look like an al Ghul original,” Nightwing replied. “Maybe it’s an adaptation for the cold weather, or he doesn’t care about aesthetics in a facility he’ll rarely visit. I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Maybe he didn’t build it,” suggested Artemis. “He could’ve found it abandoned or killed the original inhabitants.”
“Possibly. If he was desperate enough.”
Unfortunately, Nightwing had been hoping for a more traditional interior, because there tended to be little alcoves that made good hiding spots. No such luck here. He spotted a heating vent and Miss Martian floated up to test if it would open, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Fused shut,” she whispered. Damn it.
“That’d be too easy,” Nightwing muttered. Ra’s knew about the batfamily’s tendency toward air vents and had clearly taken steps to thwart their use.
“I could get it open,” Miss Martian said, “but it would make too much noise.”
They continued, peeking into solid metal doors as they went. Each room looked like a horror movie version of an examination room, some with beds or dental chairs or even metal tables. No computers or samples yet. Nothing they could work with.
“Found something,” said Batgirl. “In the heart of the facility. Some kind of computer server. There are cages, too. We haven’t gone inside yet. I think there may be an elevator in there. Get here quick.”
“On our way,” said Nightwing. Kid Flash’s running would be too loud, so they ran at a Nightwing-level pace instead. Well, Miss Martian flew a little ahead with her camouflage.
If there really was an elevator, maybe that would explain why there was so little of use on this level. It made sense, really. Any infiltrator worth their salt could get in here. Maybe the central chamber was more difficult, or at least the fact it was central would deter all but the most determined snoops. Ah, language.
All three squads met up at a giant pair of metal doors, all taking turns to peer inside. The door was electrified shut, linked to a keypad beside it.
“Does anyone else think it’s strange we haven’t seen anyone aside from that one guard?” said Robin.
“Super strange,” Nightwing agreed. He pressed a button on his mask and scanned the keypad, lighting up four fingerprints that denoted the most commonly-used buttons: 5, 7, 1, 4. There were 24 permutations of those four numbers, and trying them all in a brute-force strategy would undoubtedly trip another alarm.
There was a camera on the wall behind the team, which was dead. It must have gone off when the infrareds did… Nightwing hoped. If he could break into the system and find the camera footage for the code.
“I need to find another security room to have any chance of cracking this without ruining the mission,” he said. Sadly, Ra’s al Ghul knew better than to use WayneTech. “Think there’s one inside, or do we have to go all the way outside again?”
“We passed one on our route,” said Batgirl. “It’s a few doors down that way.” She pointed behind her, to Nightwing’s right.
“What do the rest of us do in the meantime?” asked Rocket. “I feel silly just standing around.”
“We look for alternative entrances,” said Aqualad. “I want everyone to know this place so well they could walk it blindfolded.”
“Now you sound like Batman,” said Robin, as Nightwing took Miss Martian and Kid Flash down the corridor to find the security room.
“I will take that as a compliment. Begin searching.”
The security room was the third door on the left of the concrete corridor. Nightwing had to swallow bile, because the stack of cassette tapes on the wall reminded him too much of Skinner’s compound. He shook his head to clear it.
“Get a fucking grip, Nightwing,” he muttered, crossing to the computer on the cheap grey desk before Kid Flash or Miss Martian could question or comfort him. It was a modern computer with a flat-screen monitor, and it took him moments to break in. Fortunately, the video records were archived on the computer itself. The tapes must’ve been old. Good. He didn’t want to look at them again.
Nightwing also didn’t want to delve too deeply into the video archives. He found a digital map of the facility with all the cameras marked and downloaded a copy to his wrist computer. He also passed copies to Robin and Batgirl.
He found the central chamber on the map and made a note of the camera’s codename: AX253. He then found that folder in the archive and started sifting through the footage until he found someone using the code. It was a bad angle, but it was all he had. He ran the video a couple of times and finally figured out the first digit: 4. That brought the possible number of combinations down to six. Better, but still too many to risk a brute-force approach. Most systems got antsy after more than three attempts, especially in places such as this. If he could piece together at least one more digit…
“What’s taking so long?” said Superboy. “Whatever you did to the cameras could’ve been fixed already.”
“It hasn’t,” Nightwing replied. “I need a few more minutes. Got one digit figured out. Need at least one more to make brute-forcing an option.”
“Genius takes time,” Kid Flash added. Nightwing would’ve elbowed him and told him to shut up, but he was busy.
He sifted through the footage and found a shorter person. Both people had been wearing labcoats. This one was a woman, and she fumbled the combination the first two times because her hands shook. She got it on the third because she went slowly, enough that Nightwing could pick up the whole combination. That was nice. He also knew the keypad could take at least two mistakes.
The combination was: 4157.
“Got it,” said Nightwing. “Anything cool on your end?”
“No luck,” said Zatanna. “That door is our only way in and out.”
“Wonderful.”
They headed back to the door and Nightwing keyed in the combination. The door buzzed and released. Aqualad tested the handle, and it turned.
There were more metal tables in the room, and fur was stuck in some of the cages. Nightwing made a beeline for the enormous computer that took up an entire wall, dragging Robin and Batgirl with him.
“Find another way down if you can,” Aqualad said. “I would prefer not to use the elevator.”
“Bit of a fire hazard if it’s the only option,” Kid Flash quipped.
“Would Ra’s al Ghul care?” said Robin.
“Probably not,” Nightwing replied, pulling a cord from his wrist computer and plugging it into a port. “As long as he gets out in once piece, most of his people are expendable. Hell, even he is to an extent. Yay, Lazarus Pits.” He shook off a sick feeling at the green memory and focused on breaking into this computer, explaining his steps to Robin and Batgirl as he went.
It was a simple enough task to log in and poke around in the files.
“Nightwing, what are we dealing with?” asked Aqualad, who was examining the elevator across the room.
Zatanna had freed some fur from a cage and was feeling it between her fingers. “This is real fur. A wolf, I think?”
Nightwing found some research notes. “I’m not sure what I’m looking at yet yet. KF, get your science brain over here and help me make sense of this. I think we’ve got some test results.”
“All the test subjects have codes,” said Batgirl, pointing to the screen. “Can we find what those mean?”
“Sounds like a good starting point,” said Kid Flash, zipping over to them. He rested his hand on Nightwing’s shoulder, leaning in to get a look as Nightwing sifted through the files until he found a name authority file. “Maybe that’s it.”
Nightwing opened it. “Each code translates to a Latin name and a number.”
“Scientific animal names?” Kid Flash suggested.
“Makes sense,” said Robin. “Zatanna, can we look at that fur?”
Zatanna brought it over. Between the five of them, they were able to identify most of the Latin animal names. Lots of wolves, which made since given the grey animal fur. There were also foxes, various kind of large-breed dogs, large canines, and even horses and a bear or two. Nightwing swore he saw the scientific name for an African elephant as well, which was just upsetting and made him think of the circus.
“So, they’re doing animal tests here,” said Kid Flash. “Can we save some of this data? Uncle Flash would have a field day.”
“I’ll save as much as I can,” said Nightwing. “We still need to take a look downstairs.”
“The elevator is not code-protected,” said Aqualad. “It would appear we are clear to use it, if there is no other option.” He sounded less than enthused. Nightwing couldn’t blame him. You never wanted to get stuck in an elevator when you weren’t supposed to be there at all. Sure, they could try the elevator shaft, but it was a bad idea when you didn’t know if you could get in and out of the elevator if the need arose.
Nightwing went back to the test results, but even knowing the code meanings wasn’t much help. He downloaded those records and went searching for a thesis statement that would explain all this.
Finally, he lucked out:
Mission: devise a method to command dangerous animals to control human population levels.
Classic Ra’s al Ghul. Environmentalism through genocide. How exactly was he trying to command these animals?
“There a lot of information,” Nightwing said. “We should probably leave a small team here to gather as much as possible and keep a lookout for any patrols. There has to be a reason we haven’t encountered many people yet.”
“Robin, Batgirl, are you confident continuing Nightwing’s work here?” asked Aqualad. “We may need him underground.”
“We can do it,” said Robin. “He’s done the hard work already.”
“Very well. New squad assignments: Robin, Batgirl and Rocket are to stay here. Everyone else, with me. Should we need to split further, I want Superboy and Kid Flash protecting Nightwing.”
Nightwing almost made a smartass comment, but it did make sense. He was the only hacker going underground. If something happened, the rest of the team could become trapped if they were unlucky.
They headed to the elevator and peeked inside. There was a hatch up top. Superboy gave Nightwing a boost so he could test the opening. It budged without too much effort, so Aqualad pressed the down button and they all climbed out the hatch. If anyone was in the room below, better they saw an empty elevator than one full of invaders.
Nightwing crouched on top of the elevator beside Zatanna as it lurched downwards. He checked over the blueprints he’d downloaded, but they didn’t provide any information on the bottom floor. They were going into this without any knowledge of what was down there.
“I figured out why the infrared cameras need to be turned off,” Robin said.
“We figured it out,” Batgirl cut in. “These animals are controlled by radio and light signals. The canine and feline animals are controlled by high frequencies, but some of the others are controlled by low frequencies.”
“The cameras interfere with the signals,” said Robin. “Also, they’re probably jammed full of machinery. Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” said Aqualad. Aloud he whispered, “Be ready. We could find anything down here.”
The elevator shuddered to a halt and the doors pinged open.
“Hello?” came a voice. “Who’s there?”
“Oh, god, has someone come to rescue us?” came another voice.
“Please, show yourselves.” A third voice.
The team shared a look.
“I’ll go,” said Superboy. “They’ll recognise my logo.”
“And you’re harder to shoot,” Artemis added.
Superboy didn’t dignify that with a response. Aqualad gave the okay, and he dropped through the hatch.
“Superman?!”
“That’s Superboy, genius. God, I thought you had a PhD.”
“Care to tell me what’s going on here?” Superman said.
“We were kidnapped months ago to work on cybernetic animals.”
“Are there more of you?” asked Superboy.
“Yes! Are you going to get us out?”
“Sure.”
Superboy followed the three people out of earshot, so Superboy narrated through the mind link.
“They’ve taken me to another door. There are dozens of scientists in there. One of them is telling me they have been stuck here for days. They have to swipe identity cards to get back in the elevator, but they stopped working. Someone needs to stay in the elevator to keep it open for us.”
“Can you get to the scientists?” asked Aqualad.
“We should… no. Their cards have stopped working on this door and they don’t know what would happen if I broke it. We need Nightwing.”
Aqualad nodded to Nightwing, who dropped into the elevator with Kid Flash.
This room had even more cages, and the metal tables were covered in fur and stained with blood. Kid Flash shuddered. Superboy and the three scientists were on the other end of the room. Someone inside the room was beating against the glass.
“Hi, everyone,” Nightwing said. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got here.” A scientist offered her key card and Nightwing tested it on the keypad. It didn’t respond at all. “Do the upstairs security features affect these cards?”
“No,” said the scientist. “We have to swipe for all the rooms around here. We can’t do our tests if we can’t get the doors open.”
“Are there any animals left on-site?”
“No,” said another scientist, wiping sweat off his brow. “Soldiers came in and loaded them onto trucks a few days ago.”
“Did they leave us to die in here?” said the third. Nightwing decided against answering, because the answer was absolutely yes.
“We���re here now,” he said instead. “What kind of security measures are down here?” The keypad didn’t accept any codes and had no way to plug in and open it with his computer.
“Not many,” said the first scientist. “We have emergency buttons to shut down everything, but I don’t think anything happens with the keypads.”
“Okay, but just in case, we have to get everyone out quickly,” said Nightwing. “Aqualad, we might have to smash the security measures to get people out of this room. Are we ready for that?”
“This is supposed to be recon only,” said Aqualad.
“I know. Call Batman while I see if we’ve got any other options?”
“I will. One moment.”
“I’m going to see if there’s another way to get this open,” said Nightwing, “but there’s a very good chance I’ll have to ask our muscled friend here to tear it off to get at the wires instead. Do you have any computers you can access?”
The scientists showed him to a few laptops. He saved the research files on there but couldn’t find a way to get into the security system. He hadn’t expected anything, given these scientists were prisoners and possibly geniuses, but it was worth a shot.
“Batman gives his approval to get the scientists out. He is sending backup to take them from there. We are to rendezvous at the front of the facility and then head home.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Nightwing. “Okay, I can’t see any other options. Superboy, could you rip that keypad off the wall for me?”
Superboy tugged it off like a piece of gum from his shoe. The door was still shut, so Nightwing dug around in the wires until he found the right two and tapped the copper ends together to complete the circuit. The door slid open.
“Everyone out, please!” he called. “Go straight to the elevator. No dawdling.”
The trapped scientists flooded out and headed for the elevator. Nightwing nudged their three new friends to join the crowd. Not everyone could fit.
“We’ll take this group up and come back,” said Aqualad. Nightwing relayed that to the people stuck in the room.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised. “Our teammates will be back with the elevator in a few—”
A growl erupted from one of the other rooms.
“Um,” said Kid Flash, “didn’t the scientists say those soldiers took all the animals?”
Well, shit.
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I loved your Jasper and Bismuth headcanons! Can you do the other Crystal Gems at some point as well?
Oookay this is a doozy, wedding headcanons for Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Lapis and Peridot! ***This is all implying the reader is human!! Sorry if you wanted to read this as a gemsona. You could tweak the words if you wish. Mini HCs for Steven, Connie and Greg at the end, not for marrying them but how they’d act during a wedding with you an the gems.
I’m going to try and doodle the wedding rings later (including Jasper’s and Bismuth’s), so that’s why they’re not described in the post! -Mod Lapis
Garnet:
She’s very at-ease the whole time, but also beaming and excited.
The wedding was indoors, in a large ballroom looking place. There was a hallway leading to the ceremony room, and another hallway leading to restrooms and other facilities. The decorations were simple, mostly darker maroon velvet covers on things with white as the accent color. It reminded you vaguely of red velvet cakes.
Surprisingly, she really enjoyed planning it out, she spends a lot of time planning her vows especially.
If she wore a tux, it would be a very dark plum color with blue and red wrist cuffs. She wore a tie instead of a bow-tie. She’d wear her afro naturally.
If she wore a dress, she’d wear a fishtail dress with glove-like details. (Something like this!), her hair would be pulled back and pinned with flowers. (something like this is what I was imagining)
Nothing really “goes wrong” at your wedding, it has a very peaceful atmosphere overall.
You don’t follow the “you can’t see the bride until the ceremony” ritual, she assures you it won’t matter. You two spend the day together until it’s time to get ready, then you separate for a bit until the ceremony.
Some of your relatives make off-hand remarks about Garnet wearing her visor the whole time. It irritates you but you don’t let it ruin the wedding.
Come time for the ceremony, you and Garnet have dopey smiles plastered on your faces, she even giggles a few times which made you smile wider.
Her vows are short, but genuine, her demeanor changed from giggly and happy to sincere in an instant. “Today, you and I make a commitment to one another. To stay together. To act together. To suffer together. To celebrate together. From this day forth, you will always have someone to put your faith into, to share your joy and your pain with.” She takes your hands- “I love you.”
She takes her visor off to kiss you, looking you in the eyes before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips, smiling as she pulled away.
The after party consists of lots of karaoke, dancing and chatting. Afterwards you went home with your wife, holding one of her hands as she carried a tuckered out Steven in the other.
Amethyst:
There’s lots of nervous laughter from Ame, her jokes don’t deliver well all day and she’s very affectionate- yet quiet. It’s pretty out of character for her. You could tell she’s got a lot on her mind.
You and Ame let Pearl plan a lot for the two of you, so the decor was very elegant, lacy tablecloths with lilac and (favorite color) trimming or ribbons, even the flowers were color-coordinated. It clashed a little bit with the beach simple setting, admittedly, but it was still very pretty.
If she wore a tux, she wouldn’t actually wear a tux at all. She’d wear a white collared shirt with a black vest and dark purple slacks. Her hair would be up in a pony tail.
If she wore a dress, it would still but on the more casual side. (Something like this!) with her hair down, but pulled back out of her face.
The ceremony starts off well, but midway through Ame starts crying, she tells you she’s okay. When it comes time for her to say her vows, she grabs you by the face and kisses you. She pulls back but keeps you close and whispers “I-I didn’t make any! I didn’t know what to say I didn-” you pull her back in for a kiss and assure her it’s okay.
You two keep pecking little kisses across each other’s faces.
She holds your hand as the two of you walk down the isle together, wiping her tears away and looking at you with glistening eyes.
During the after party, Greg preforms lots of his songs as the two of you just sit and listen, peacefully. There’s lots of actual partying happening, but you two just wanted to spend time with each other.
Peridot makes a big dork of herself during her speech, telling you how you’re now legally fused with the “superior quartz”. Ame giggles and scoffs at it, so do you. Garnet takes the mic from her and expresses how happy she is for Amethyst, and gives you two her best wishes.
The two of you dance together to cheesy pop love songs on the dance floor, giggling to each other again.
Pearl:
You both decided to have your wedding in a chapel. (She just loved the aesthetic of it so much)
The decor is all white and cream colors, she really stressed that “the light shining through the stain glass might make some colors unflattering to look at”, you agreed for her sake, she was pretty stressed.
If she decided to wear a tux, she’d wear a similar one to what she wore in Mr. Greg (It’s Over Isn’t It episode), perhaps a different color, like pale blue. The accent colors would all be pastels, of course. She’d wear her hair normally.
If she wanted a dress, she’d wear something simple with elegant details that flowed well. (something like this!), she’d wear her hair normally still, but would wear some sort of hair accessory. Very pale silver leaves, pearls, something simple but lovely like that.
You did follow traditional rituals with her, more for the fun of it instead of actual belief in them.
There was a light drizzle of rain before the reception, it stopped quickly and left little glittering water droplets onto the stain glass windows.
The reception went over well, Pearl recited her vows without skipping a beat. “From this day forward, I, Pearl, take you, (y/n) to be my spouse. To have and to hold, in peace and in strife, I will stay by your side. So long as your heart still beats and my gem still shines, I will love you.”
The kiss was short and sweet, with Pearl’s nose bumping into your own briefly, making you smile.
During the after party, you and Pearl slow danced a lot. There was a dance where you traded off partners with someone else, which was a lot of fun. It broke off into more loose and dorky dancing afterwards.
Pearl took you outside to the church garden to walk around and be with you in peace for a while.
Greg was the one to give you two the “good luck, I’m so happy for the two of you!” speech, he looked especially happy the whole time. You noticed he and Pearl talking a lot, too.
The two of you stayed until everyone had left and cleaned up together, Pearl would give you little cheek kisses when you would pass each other to throw something away.
Peridot:
She was VERY excited, but terribly nervous. She’d ask you tons of questions about this “tradition” and how to celebrate, occasionally making off-hand “that’s weird” or “oh! that sounds fun!” remarks.
Peri wanted to hold the ceremony in the barn after reading it’s supposed to be held in a “special place”.
Lapis, Pearl, and Garnet helped remodel and redecorate for the occasion. Lapis had made a large ring of water around the barn, not in front the entrance of course. Garnet moved a lot of things outside and behind the barn out of sight, with some help from Greg and his van. Pearl and Peri took care of actual decorating for the most part. Peri made some wind-chime looking meep-morps out of tin cans and pieces of different colored glass, she hung them at the entrance of the barn. Pearl set up chairs in the barn, making a reception area in the back. A large piece of white tulle hung from the ceiling, creating a large upside down V looking shape, it was weighted down from moving by fabric flowers. There was more white tulle on the walls, mainly near the entrance, (looking like curtains) and hanging from the high points of the ceiling with more of Peri’s meep morps. It was odd looking, but very pretty.
If Peri wore a suit, it would be green, with a bright green bowtie. She’d wear her hair as usual, but would make sure it was extra well kept. No pieces sticking out or out of shape!
If she wanted a dress, she’d wear something shorter and cuter, (ideal to walk and party in later, she planned it out ahead of time). (Something like this!) The top part of her hair would be pulled back and secured with a barrette, with the bottom still flared out a bit.
During the reception, Peri kept looking at you, she’d smile and her cheeks would flush.
Her vows were incredibly dorky, but there was a lot of sincerity to them. “Fusion- it’s the most intimate a gem can be with another; or is it? They share their physical and mental state with each other, they become one. Here on this day, we become one, we’ll share our lives together from this day forward. Our physical and mental states combine, but stay separate, making us use honesty and communication. We don’t share a body, but we’re still one. Today, I fuse my life with yours.”
Peri’s vows earned an odd look, a giggle, and an “awh” from Garnet within seconds of each reaction.
She actually missed the first time she went in to kiss you, kissing you on the side of your mouth. She realized this and awkwardly laughed, you cupped her face and pulled her back in for a proper kiss.
The after party was a lot of fun, there was mostly dorky dancing, and a marathon of Camp Pining Hearts in a truck bed.
She comes up and asks you if what she said was “okay”- of course it was, and you tell her she did great.
You learned Peri can’t dance. At all.
Lapis:
She suggested the wedding be held on the beach, you asked if she was sure, she said she was. “I have enough bad memories about the ocean. It’s time to make some good ones.”
The wedding was held at night. Greg was kind enough to lend you his old light-up floor. (This one!)
Lapis heard the old saying “rain on the day of the wedding is good luck” so she made it rain throughout the morning so it would have time to dry before setting up.
Chairs had been set up on the flooring, the gentle whirring of Greg’s van made for comfortable ambiance while everyone else was quiet. There were flowers and flower petals scattered on the beach, but overall it was very simple, with the full moon overhead.
If Lapis wore a suit, it would be a simple button up with dark blue slacks. She’d roll up the sleeves and wear a loose ribbon tied in a bow around her neck instead of a tie or bowtie. She still wouldn’t wear shoes. Her hair would be in a low ponytail.
If she wore a dress, it would be simple in the front and backless with a bow at her lower back. (Something like this, the one on the left! sorry I couldn’t get a single image of it in a good resolution.) Her hair would be down like normal with the back of it in a flat braided bun, and she still wouldn’t wear shoes.
She said her vows quietly, very softly. “After all this time, I’ve finally found a home on Earth. Home is being with you. So I guess I want to stay home forever now.” she laughed a bit, but she held you hand a bit tighter, you could tell she meant it. She pulled you closer into a hug, holding you there and pressing a kiss on your cheek before putting her hand on your chin and pulling you in for a kiss.
The two of you half-heartedy listened to the speeches your friends and family gave, mostly just holding each other and appreciating the moment. Lapis paid the most attention when Steven spoke, recounting the day he met her and saying how happy he was to see you two together now.
She took you out onto the ocean and danced with you there, smiling and pressing little kisses into your shoulders and neck.
Steven/Connie/Greg:
They helped set up a lot, Greg always offering to play music.
Steven and Connie were always the flower boy and ring bearer.
Steven wears a pink vest and pants with a white button up underneath, Connie wears an off the shoulder long sleeve mint dress with a white belt. Greg wears his tux from Mr. Greg.
Greg almost always references his relationship with Rose in his speeches, saying how you need to talk to one another and be honest, communication is key, you should trust the other one to love you despite your flaws. No one is perfect until you see them as they are completely, and if you still love them as they are entirely, then they’re perfect for you.
Steven always says how happy he is that his friends/family is getting married, gives you the best wishes he can, makes a handful of jokes.
Connie doesn’t give speeches, but she is very happy to be around and says congratulations when the ceremony is over.
Greg, Steven and Connie do karaoke- Greg and Steven are happy to do back-up vocals for people, too. They all sing very well!
Steven and Greg welcome you to their family afterwards.
#Anonymous#I WENT ALL OUT FOR PERI'S SETTING DESCRIPTION sorry 'bout that#and lapis' is super self indulgent but life is hard I needed it#headcanons#wedding#garnet#garnet x reader#amethyst#amethyst x reader#pearl#pearl x reader#peridot#peridot x reader#lapis#lapis lazuli#lapis x reader#lapis lazuli x reader#anon#mod lapis#long post#ask to tag#crystal gem imagines#gem x reader
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Blink (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
Pearl’s trying to listen to Char’s story about her awful boss, when Gracie starts barking.
“Hey! Pipe down!” Char reprimands the dog comically. “I’m in the middle of a story here.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what her problem is. I’m gonna walk her in, like, ten minutes. Gracie. Manners.”
Grace yips and continues to whine, obviously not satisfied with the idea of waiting.
“I’m really sorry. She’s not usually like this. Let me see what’s up, and I’ll call you back tonight.”
Getting up and walking to the sliding glass door where Gracie is pacing, Pearl glances out. Sees Jesus from next door, standing out in Frank’s yard.
“That’s Jesus. You are not supposed to whine,” Pearl reprimands. But as the minutes tick by and Jesus doesn’t move, and Gracie doesn’t calm down, Pearl gets more concerned. She steps out and calls to him.
“Jesus,” she tries. Gracie circles Pearl’s legs.
He doesn’t give any indication that he can hear her - hasn’t moved. He’s standing absolutely still. Gracie’s been whining for several minutes now. Has Jesus been out there the whole time?
“It’s cold out,” she tries, because these California kids clearly don’t know the first thing about dressing for Minnesota winters. “Jesus?” she tries again. “You should go in.”
But he doesn’t turn. Doesn’t respond at all. And Pearl’s worry is on overdrive. “Gracie. That is Jesus. Go see Jesus, girl,” she instructs.
Gracie takes off, bounding through the snow and skidding to a stop beside him. She licks his hand. (His bare hand in this brutal cold - he seems to have lost a glove.) Then she snags his coat sleeve with her teeth and starts leading him back to Pearl.
“Jesus?” Pearl calls again, wanting her message to get in. “You should go in.”
He blinks at her like he’s coming out of a daze. “I...can’t.”
“All right. Come inside.”
Gracie leads Jesus by the sleeve until he’s safely indoors. Then, she lets him go, and returns to Pearl’s side. Her old self again.
“Are you okay?” Pearl asks. She gets busy giving him her heated blanket to wrap around himself and making him a cup of instant hot cocoa. (She’s a hot cocoa snob. Prefers the good stuff you stir slowly on the stove, but Jesus needs warmth as soon as possible. So instant will have to do.)
“I’m...not, actually…”
He speaks slowly. It’s not at all how he sounded this morning.
The hot cocoa seems to bring him around. Even holding it in his hands makes the life come back to his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. You have a hard time with cold?” she guesses.
“I have a hard time with a lot of things...” he admits, sipping the drink. “...psychologically.” He pauses. Meets her gaze. She knows the look. He’s waiting for the judgment.
He won’t find it here. Not with her. “Listen. Do you need something? Can I call someone for you?”
“Actually...would you mind if I called someone? I need to touch base with my therapist. I got an appointment later and never officially canceled before my family decided to come up here for the week. I’d call myself, but I don’t have service.”
“Yeah, of course,” Pearl answers, offering her phone.
She half-listens as Gracie stays close to her. The picture of perfect behavior now that Jesus is inside with her.
“Yeah. Hi, Dr. H, this is Jesus Foster. I’m not going to make it in today, because we’re in Minnesota. But I wondered if I could touch base with you another way…” He glances around and his eyes fall on Pearl’s computer. He raises his eyebrows at her. “Maybe Skype?”
Pearl nods. He can use whatever he needs. Like she’s gonna stop a kid from talking to his therapist.
“Yeah 3:00 still works,” he’s saying. “Okay. Yeah. Bye.”
“Everything okay?” she asks, nervous but trying not to show it.
“How’d your dog know to do that thing with me?” Jesus asks, skirting her question with one of his own.
“She’s a service dog,” Pearl explains as Gracie nips and distracts until Pearl’s hand tremors pass. “Do you need to tell your parents you’re here?”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jesus reassures.
“How old are you?” Pearl checks.
“Sixteen.”
That makes sense. Most sixteen year olds aren’t reporting back to their parents every two seconds.
“How is it living next door to Grandpa?” he wonders.
“Fine. Keeps to himself.”
“Yeah,” Jesus nods.
It’s officially awkward. Especially as Jesus seems to have no plans to go back next door for at least an hour.
--
Jesus can’t stop looking at the cool purple curtain in the corner of the cabin and wondering what could be behind it. The outside of her cabin is seriously ugly, but inside there are pops of color where he doesn’t expect them, comfortable furniture, and an open floor plan, so he can pretty much see everything at once. No surprises. All one level. It’s so warm in here. So homey. And the hot chocolate’s so good.
Pearl’s quiet. Honest. She wears her clothes like she’s hiding. Her tan cardigan is long. A black beanie hat covers all her hair. Fingerless black knit gloves obscure her hands. It isn’t until she starts shedding layers that he really gets a good look at her. Part of it is how much clothing she’s got on, and part of it is that he’s finally with it enough to really see her. Seeing her take off all her layers makes him feel like she trusts him in some kind of deep way. He can’t say why, it’s just what he feels.
She reminds him a bit of Mama, but younger. Maybe late 20s or early 30s. She’s thin with dark hair and brown eyes, but where Mama’s eyes shine with a kind of calm certainty, Pearl’s are guarded. Her mouth has worry lines around it. She’s watchful - hasn’t taken her eyes off him since he walked in - but it doesn’t make him feel exposed. Instead, he gets the feeling that by being here, he might be exposing her. He doesn’t want her to feel that way, and he also knows he needs to be able to feel safe. To breathe. And being here has allowed him to do that. Jesus doesn’t know what it feels like to hide because you want to. He only knows what it feels like to hide because you have to.
...But maybe it’s not a choice for Pearl either.
He instinctively doesn’t ask what she needs a service dog for. Jesus caught her tremor, even if he didn’t mention it. All of a sudden, he feels beyond tired. “Do you mind if I crash for a few minutes? Didn’t get much sleep. There are, like, a million people in my family, and it’s been hard to feel...like...okay...since we got here.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Want me to wake you in an hour?”
“I’ll be up, but my thing isn’t til 5:00 actually. Sorry. I should have mentioned it. 3:00 California time.”
“Oh,” Pearl nods.
Jesus can tell she’s not thrilled about his dropping by like this, but she did send her dog to get him. He tries not to worry about it and stretches out on the couch.
--
The last thing Pearl expects is to have Frank’s grandson over for several hours on a whim. She doesn’t like company. Doesn’t like teenagers. Least of all teenage boys. But she had seen the look in his eyes when Gracie led him inside. How dissociated he looked. She knew that feeling - without him even specifying psychological reasons.
It’s for that reason that she lets him stay. She sees herself in him. Knows that sometimes you just need someone to be there. So, while she’s not about to let her guard down or let Jesus out of her sight for more than a few seconds, Pearl’s okay to do some more knitting. To keep talking to Char via Facebook, updating her on the strange turn of events.
At 4:00, she makes herself a frozen TV dinner. Jesus doesn’t stir. At ten to 5:00, she prompts Gracie to go see Jesus, and she sits two inches from his face until he wakes up and groggily smiles at her.
“Hey, you,” he greets. Pearl’s impressed that, ever since she specified Gracie was a service dog, Jesus has not tried to touch her.
“What’s her name?”
“Grace,” Pearl says. “I didn’t want to wake you. I mean, you seem to need the sleep, but it’s ten to five. Just in case you had to do anything to get ready for your appointment.”
“Oh, whoa, yeah. Thanks. Is it cool if I use your bathroom?”
She tells him where it is and tries to think about what she can do while he’s occupied on her laptop. A therapeutic hour is 50 minutes. Gracie needs a walk, and Pearl could probably put some headphones on and swing or something while he’s busy the rest of the time. She’ll see how comfortable she is with letting Jesus stay in her cabin alone.
He comes back, and Pearl’s turned her laptop on. Logged herself off of Skype.
“Here. I’ll be around here. Probably just listening to music or something. I won’t listen in,” she promises.
“Is this really okay?” he asks, seeming nervous again.
“It’s really something you need, right?” she asks.
Jesus nods.
“Then it’s really okay.”
--
Just before 5 PM, Pearl disappears behind the awesome purple curtain with headphones on. He signs onto Skype and sees Dr. Holly Hitchens is signed on, too.
He hits the button for video call and waits.
“Jesus. It’s nice to see you. Though it’s not the way I thought we’d meet this week,” she says with a smile.
“No, me neither,” he answers.
She leads him through getting grounded and focused and then asks where he’d like to start.
“I’m not sure. This trip is harder than I expected it to be. It was, like, really sudden?”
“I see. Where are you right now?”
“My grandpa’s cabin in Minnesota. Well, actually, his neighbor’s cabin right now.”
“Can you share with me one thing that’s difficult?”
It takes no time for one thing to snowball into 25, and for Jesus to get lost in his head. He hears Dr. H. calling his name, though, and focuses in on her.
“I got stuck outside...like...mentally stuck. But I couldn’t move. Not sure how long I was out there for. The neighbor’s dog came and got me, and this is as safe as I’ve felt since we were packing to leave.”
“How long are you scheduled to be there?” she asks, making notes.
“Through Sunday.”
“And when did you arrive?”
“Last night about dinnertime.”
“All right. So, it sounds like you feel overwhelmed. Like you may need some coping strategies to get you through the time there.”
“Yeah.”
They talk through some. He says he brought his backpack with extra snacks, his blanket and headphones, but they made him get rid of his water in the airport. And he wasn’t allowed to take the glitter Frankie gave him for Christmas.
“Is it possible to get another water bottle to carry with you while you’re there?”
“I guess… Moms did say if I need something, tell them.”
“Good. I want you to make a note somewhere you’ll see it, to remind yourself to ask them about that.”
Jesus grabs a pen off the desk and scribbles Water on his hand.
“What else would you like to talk about?” Dr. H. asks.
“I’m having a hard time feeling safe…” he admits.
“You mentioned you feel your safest now. Is this neighbor’s cabin somewhere they’d consent to you stopping in if you needed to take breaks?”
“I’m not sure. Pearl?” he calls, but he doesn’t see her.
Gracie trots over and sticks her head through the fiber optic curtain. Pearl pokes her head out. “What’d you need, Jesus?” she says coming out and taking her headphones off.
“This is my therapist, Dr. Holly Hitchens,” Jesus introduces.
“Pearl West,” she says back shortly.
“I was wondering if I like needed a break from stuff next door, if I could come by here… It wouldn’t be this big of a thing, usually. Just...I need somewhere to feel safe? ‘Cause I don’t really next door?”
Jesus can see how Pearl purses her lips, but then she nods. “If you need to, yes.”
The session is over soon after that, and Jesus feels like there was barely any time to discuss all of the millions of triggers he’s come up against since Moms decided to take this trip. But at least Pearl said he could come back. And Dr. H. asked him to call and check in if he needed to.
Jesus checks the time on his phone - the only feature that works here with no service.
“Dude, it’s almost 6:00? I gotta go…” he says, casting nervous looks outside.
It might as well be midnight for how dark it is.
“I can walk with you,” Pearl offers, even though she looks uneasy at the thought herself.
“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable…”
This makes Pearl smile just for a second. “Yeah, I do. Look. I have a light on my hat.” (She turns it on, temporarily blinding him.) And this.” She takes a small container out of her coat pocket.
“What is that?” Jesus asks, curious.
“Mace. Don’t worry. I’ll look out for you. And Gracie will be here, too.”
They walk outside, and it’s eerily dark, cold and still. The crunching of the snow under their feet is the only sound.
Jesus swallows. “Do you ever get scared?”
Silence for so long Jesus doesn’t expect Pearl will answer. Then, she says, “I’m scared all the time.”
“Sometimes, I fake it too well, and my family believes I’m okay. Otherwise they kinda can make me feel like I’m overreacting…” he hedges, and then asks: “Same?”
“Yeah. Same,” she says with so much feeling that Jesus can’t begin to name them all.
“Earlier when I was out here alone, I got stuck ‘cause it felt like I needed so much help, but I couldn’t get it. I felt like that a lot, you know, before in my life. I feel like I’m the only one who needs help like this, but it’s not obvious to people, you know?”
“It was obvious to me.” Pearl says, her voice calm. Even.
“Because you get it.”
“Yeah,” she says, slowing down as they approach the front of Frank’s cabin. “Because I get it.”
And before he has time to say anything, Pearl knocks hard on the door, and disappears into the night before anyone answers it.
In the seconds before the door is pulled open, it occurs to Jesus just what she did for him. Not only did she walk him home even though it scared her, she remembered that he didn’t feel like he could go home, and knocked to make sure his family knew he was out here.
He’s pretty sure the last thing Pearl wants to be is a role model for anyone, but she’s become one for him, in no time at all.
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I write to you from the night’s solitude in the privacy of my home. Although I’ve been self-isolating since the 12th of march, my first diary entrance mentioning the pandemic was on the 24th. This virus made a globally shared awareness and reality that I’ve been busy failing trying to escape. So I have been quiet, spending a lot of time in my head, which has its own special pleasures and terrible nightmares. At this point, I have said little in response when it comes to the crisis, although I have been listening a lot in the sudden boom of zoom and jitsi meetings. So let me share my thoughts on this topic that I dread to you here, in an attempt to be together with you and co-exist for a while.
So, I am staying at home these days. I am grateful to have a home where I feel safe, loved and warm. My thoughts are often with those who are locked in with their abusers, with the question of battling domestic violence. I don’t know what else to do than spread the info of hotlines and shelters online and plaster them on the streets.
For me, my home is where I can be with and alone at the same time. It’s one of my places for solitude and privacy. For many I guess, like those with kids, a bit of privacy is rare. I don’t think my upstairs neighbors get much of that these days, with five little monsters stuck inside their three room apartment. I need solitude to stay sane and happy, like I need solitude’s opposite too. That is a harder to come by these days. Of course, I miss going out and being around my friends and family, but at the same time it’s like we’re actually talking more than we used to. For a while, I felt frozen since plans I had are not possible now, worse, they didn’t seem to be relevant anymore or even make sense. It will remain frozen I guess, until this thing has blown over.
At the moment, here in the Netherlands we are three weeks into the Corona measures, but we don’t really experience a heavily enforced lock down. We can still go outside, we’re not allowed to school together or move around in groups larger than three, but I haven’t seen any cops giving out fines yet where I live. There are no megaphones every hour urging people to stay indoors like in Spain and Italy. Most of us are just following government’s advice. Few people are wearing masks, not even in the hospitals, only the ones working with the corona patients. People look at you strange when wear one, I’m wondering how to make it hip, because you cannot know when you carry something and it’s better to be safe than sorry. I saw a woman in the market yesterday who was selecting lemons wearing a glove. The alcohol sprayed on the bars of the obligated shopping carts rubs off on people’s hands, but I don’t think it’s enough to keep all the germs at bay. They don’t clean the produce and so I thought it was a nice gesture of her.
The Dutch government has been terribly slow in responding to this crisis for which we have been warned so well in advance. These white people are acting superior as usual, thinking they are untouchable using words like ‘intelligent lockdown’, as if the Dutch are smarter than everyone else in the world, meanwhile ignoring good practices and experiences from the Asian countries who already passed the peak of this crisis. There is some security for those of us with the right residency permits, to fall into a shadow of the dwindling welfare state’s social net that is still catching many who end up not being able to work with special measures for freelancers. Yes, it is weird how they conjured up all that money to give to the people not working right now. Since that kind of money is just there, then why can’t we just get the basic income? No matter how wealthy this country is, our government refuses to support the southern European states. Ikke ikke ikke en de rest kan stikken, or me me me and the rest can choke. Another crisis, another selfish response from the stupid people in power.
The prime minister and his liberal party is gaining support, even my mother who despises the party thinks he’s doing well. I haven’t watched any of his press conferences, cannot stand their voices speaking with those potatoes in their throats. They’re still just fascists to me, hiding under their polite smiles, saying suddenly there is a society, while they built for no such thing. Their hypocritical faces nauseate me, as they’re praising the health care workers whose budgets they’ve been cutting and cutting for years on end, as if they haven’t been exploiting all these “essential” workers of the world, these people they call low-skilled in normal times while they continue to break down them and the other workforce they depend on from our undocumented circuits. I haven’t heard anything about whether the Dutch state is still deporting refugees, in Germany at least last week they were still organizing flights to Iran for that. The family prison in Zeist, whose function is literally to keep the strangers locked up (vreemdelingen bewaring), remains open 24/7, although their services and hours may differ due to COVID-19. I wonder if they wear any masks or stopped sharing cells.
A few days ago, when I was biking through the city center after almost three weeks at home, I saw there were still shops open selling trinkets, clothes and chocolate. What’s essential next to food? The local feminist bookshop took to delivering and reading out loud online, the anarchist library opens a window for pick up on the weekends and set up a solidarity kitchen serving free food every day. Most of the food supply to the homeless people in the city is cut off. The municipality is championing the volunteers for picking up their slack, without acknowledging they are slacking when it comes to support the vulnerable groups. The shop that sells the wool I like is closed, so I’m making due with what I have left. My mother thinks I’m bored out of my mind and had a puzzle delivered to our apartment. At some point I picked up an audiobook and let myself disappear to a world with witches and dragons, feeling like a teenager again, while looping soft threads of wool with a hook to make a waffled scarf. What’s the English word for crochet? in French from croc means hook, from Dutch too it translates as hooking. What’s the word?
I don’t mind the at home life. Although it’s hard facing the demons of my administration, I think I’m skilling up in my reproductive work, yes, taking care and trying to find structure, tweaking my rhythm. We started making plans for food in advance, are cooking most days and doing the laundry regularly instead of it piling up for weeks. I’ve even been consistently picking up all the stuff I tend to leave behind me in trails. I’m up late, but sleep as long as I like. Anyhow, it’s not a bad thing to slow down, it’s been a revolutionary cry for almost a century, because slowing down is a strategy to resist, refuse, rattle and collapse this sick system we live under. I wouldn’t mind to keep this part of how the virus has affected me, giving me time to rest and reflect when I thought I didn’t need it.
Now, I’ll have to think about work again, but since I don’t need the money, I promised myself to take things easy for a while. In the first week of isolation, I rearranged our guest room to make another place to work aside from the living room table. It’s not finished yet, because the table needs screws and also extra shelves would be nice. I want to go buy those things, but don’t want to go to the construction market and line up with all those other people. Infections are rising and we don’t have enough tests and beds for all those people that are going to get sick. So far, it’s mostly the south struggling and there are still beds in the north.
Better don’t risk contamination before things are past the peak. Patience never hurt anyone.
5 april, Utrecht
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My First Chapter of my book: A Tale of Four Addicts
Cyanine-1
“Dude, is it better than snorting it?” I ask. My world fades in and out as that warm liquid rushes through my veins. Well, shut me up, I guess it is better. And it’ll save me a lot of cash, too, because I don’t have to use as much. I’m numb. My head is incredibly light, and I’ve already started to fall out, but I feel amazing. Yeah, but you look like shit. My subconscious glares at me. What has been with her lately? She’s been in my head a lot over the past few days. I know I’ve changed, but I’m still me. What have I gotten myself into? Now you’re screwed and addicted. She shakes her head, and I come back with a, “Shut up, I am not addicted.” I push her even further back in my head.
Okay, so I’m not that goody two shoes I used to be anymore. My subconscious disagrees with me, and she’s standing there shaking her head. In college, I couldn’t keep doing the schedules, classes and the rich highflying parties. I needed more.
I ended up at a very strange party one night, after curfew had set in and most of the dorms were all locked. My best friend at the time, Lisa, of all people talked me into it. I wasn’t used to these kinds of parties, you know, the kind that are just thrown together at the last minute and have alcohol, people and illegal drugs pretty much everywhere. Well, I could see people smoking pot anyway. I could see my subconscious shaking her head again saying, Go home, you don’t want to be here. But I wasn’t so sure that was true, so I pushed her away and carried on.
I think my mouth hung open the whole time Lisa drug me around as I saw people everywhere snorting cocaine, drinking and taking pills, and I’m sure if I would’ve looked hard enough, I would’ve seen someone shooting dope through a needle or snorting some H, but I was new to the scene. I had no idea where to go. Lisa was the party girl, so she was the one showing me around.
We wound up drinking, snorting, smoking and of course, popping something a time or two or…I don’t know, maybe four times. I have no clue what it was, I think it as pain pills or Xanax. I was so messed up, high and drunk, but it’s just what I needed. I needed to let go and forget about always being the good kid and the goody two shoes. But what’s Daddy going to say? My subconscious had reared her head once more. Oh shit, I thought mad she even brought him up. I just told her that I would deal with him later. Besides, I didn’t think he’d care about me having a good time, as long as it didn’t get out of hand. Turns out, I liked what we did that night, A LOT. I really liked the high, from whatever we did. Obviously, my subconscious sneers and sticks her nose up in the air. I just glare at her.
I was always a great kid. The one who showed up to class on time and always got great grades. So how the hell did I end up here? The question you should ask yourself is, WHY the hell did you even start to begin with? My subconscious mocks me, tapping her foot. I did regret it after a while but then I just get high again, and my only worry becomes where I’m going to get the money for my next high so I don’t end up being sick. It wasn’t my first time drinking, I’d had wine and champagne before, but what we did that night was nowhere even close to that.
I flunked out of school. My parents, mostly my father, cut me off when he found out I was using their money for my “habit” instead of for school. Then, I became broke, homeless and hungry; but the strange thing was, I wasn’t hungry for food. I was hungry for more alcohol and pills and maybe the occasional blunt. I’ve had to and still do, beg for money on the streets just to go out and buy the pills and alcohol that keep me from going insane. It was pills and alcohol then. Now, it’s something much, much worse. I have to sleep anywhere that anybody will let me crash, and sometimes that’s on the park bench covered with newspapers. My subconscious is in her winter parka with her hat and gloves on, shivering as if saying she’s freezing. Ugh, drama queen. But most of the time, I find somewhere indoors to sleep.
At the time I was still new even when I flunked out of school, but I was getting there. I was just into drinking and taking pills then. I hadn’t even tried heroin yet. Looking back, I don’t honestly know what I was thinking that first night, but in the moment, I was having the time of my life. I didn’t give a shit about other people or their thoughts about me and what I was doing. It was about me. All about me. I loved the way the pills made me feel. It was becoming a part of me and I didn’t…DON’T, have a problem.
***
An abandoned building, in the middle of downtown Syracuse, New York: there are three other guys I barely know, Lisa and me. She knows them, and that’s good enough for me. I’m just here to get high. It’s dark, cold and damp even though we’re inside, but this is as warm as I’ve been in days.
I can’t see one of the guy’s faces. He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie, but he has his hood up so I can’t see his head inside it. There’s a little light coming in through one of the windows that the guys took a few board off of just so it isn’t pitch black in here. The guy with his hood up is probably just trying to stay warm, but all in all, he’s making me nervous. The other two look similar: tall, dark skinned, kind of cute, I guess. KIND OF! My subconscious is panting and drooling at the sight of them. I scowl at her because I’m not interested in that kind of thing. I just want to get high.
I think we’re in some kind of old office building. I don’t really know. I look at Lisa with that, “I’m cold and cranky, need to get high” look. She knows what I’m thinking. I mean damn it, we paid our share: so let’s do this shit. I move in closer to Lisa and say, “What the hell Lisa? Come on, I thought they had something?” Maybe this is your sign to leave and just give it up. I ignore my subconscious and push her even further back in my mind. Not going to happen. I will find something somewhere else if I have to.
“Me too Cy. I’m trying, I swear,” she replies with a sigh. I throw myself down into one of the old, broken office chairs that’s missing an arm and a wheel, nearly falling backwards. Regaining my composer I sigh at her and stare at the guys, Lisa and my subconscious glaring at them the whole time, and wishing they’d hurry the hell up and get me high already.
I guess I shouldn’t complain since this is the most comfortable I’ve been in quite sometime. I’ve been so cold and wet, not to mention I haven’t gotten high in days, so I feel like I’m dying. I wrap my coat around me tightly to keep me as warm as I can be while continuing to stare at one of the guys, hoping he’ll understand my frustration from my look. Lisa is over there now trying to find out what’s up, and they’re too far away for me to hear what they’re saying. For her sake, I hope she’s giving them a piece of my mind. Okay, her mind.
I see Lisa isn’t getting anywhere. It’s been ten minutes, and I’m tired of waiting. I stand up and start walking over to where they’re all standing and raise my voice a little. “Damn it!” I exclaim. I went over the situation in my head several times, my subconscious telling me over and over not to say anything, but I ignore her and decided that enough is enough. Someone needs to know I’m pissed. I continue when I’m met with blank expressions and open mouths, “What’s up guys? Are we going to do this or what? I’m dying over here.” I froze. Shit, I’m dead. I look at Lisa, and she’s frozen with her mouth open in shock along with the two guys. Yeah, that’s right, little miss prissy spoke up, and they didn’t see it coming.
I thought I screwed up, but nope. They just stopped talking for a second and stared at me, then went right back to talking again and began getting the dope ready, without even saying a word. Geez. Finally, but should I be scared?
“Ya know, pretty lady,” the guy with his hood up says. He still hasn’t taken it down. “Most people would’ve got kicked out on their ass fo’ talking to us like that. You lucky you here and we like Lisa and you with her.” I assume he smiles at Lisa because she smiles up at him, and then his head looks back down to getting our damn dope ready. Oh God, I hope he doesn’t kill me tonight.
“Yeah, well,” I say, “we came here to get high, damn. I’m cold, and we paid our share, so get on with it, or let me do it myself.” I look at Lisa, and she looks more scared out of her wits than I am. I mean, I’m shaking like a leaf, but I’ll still stand up to them, and I’m the new one on the scene.
I move in closer to her as she backs away from the guys. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “I brought you here to get high, not cause trouble. Shit Cyanine, why couldn’t you just wait?”
“Sorry Lisa, but I got tired of waiting. We paid our damn money. Now get us high damn it,” I reply. Our voices were no louder than a whisper. She’s pissed off at me something awful. I think she likes one of them and doesn’t want him to kick us out. Although at this point, she’d tell them to just let me go, I’m sure. I don’t even care. Waiting this long, is getting ridiculous.
The guys finally got the dope mixed up, and then we all took a needle and shot it into our veins, wherever we could get it to go in. Ah…that’s so much better. My subconscious is shaking her head in disapproval, and I just ignore her and do my own thing. This is only like my second or third time shooting up, but I’m hooked. Suddenly, I have no worries, and magically, the cold doesn’t even bother me. I sit in a corner alone, staring out the window the guys took the boards off of. There’s just enough room for a little bit of moonlight to shine through. I feel invincible right now, like I can do anything I want to. It’s crazy that I’ve gotten hooked on this shit so quickly, but I did and I’m in love with it. I wouldn’t say I’m addicted though. I feel like I can stop whenever I want to. But I enjoy it. I don’t want to quit.
Sure, I’m homeless with little to no money, but I’m good. I have friends that help. Well, some friends. Yeah, when they want to, my subconscious says, and she’s probably right. I have a corner in the middle of town at one of the busiest intersections to stand at. Sometimes I get money, sometimes I don’t. All of that, and for what? A high? Is it worth it? In my mind, it’s completely worth it.
As I sit there staring out the window, I think back to a few months ago. I see myself sitting in class being the “good” girl I used to be. That was always me. I snapped out of the goody two shoes phase, and I needed something more. I had always seen Lisa having so much fun. So I said what the hell, and now look at me.
***
“What the hell happened to me?” I ask the nurse that come in to check on me.
“Well, someone called 911 to an abandoned building last night, and they Narcanned you three times,” she says, checking my vitals. “From what I can tell, you’re lucky to be alive.”
I don’t understand because I remember sitting there in the dark feeling great and happier than ever. Then, all of a sudden, I’m waking up here, at the hospital down on the other side of Syracuse. What on earth went wrong? “My whole body hurts, and I feel like I could…” I trail off and heave my head and body over the side of the bed, vomiting all over the floor. The nurse doesn’t even flinch.
All she says is, “There’s a puke bucket beside you, and I’ll get someone in here to clean that up. I’ll see what I can give you for the pain.” She tells me to lay there and get some rest.
“I’m sorry,” I say and flop my head back against the pillow, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my hospital gown in the most unlady like way. Rest. Damn, it seems like that’s all I can do. Hell, I can barely lift my head up. So is this what it’s like to overdose? I’ll have to remind myself not to do this again. I can’t remember anything that happened. All I know is this sucks. I have to remind myself to watch my back next time. I can tell I’m in withdrawals: badly. I need to get out of here. I’ve got to get something in me and fast. Funny, I don’t even remember doing anymore after the first injection. I’ll bet those idiots did it to me for telling them to move on with it. Oh hell, I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I can’t move. I just want out of this place, but I’m hooked up to pretty much every machine in the room, and to top it off, I feel really, really badly.
Six hours later, and finally: I get to leave. They ran several tests, I really didn’t need. I feel fine except for really needing to get some dope. They did give me some pain medication through an IV, and that felt amazing. But hell, they could have given me something to take home with me. It’s not like I’m an addict or anything.
So here I sit in front of the hospital, waiting on my friend Jason to pick me up. He’s the only one I know that has a car besides Lisa, but I’m pissed off at her right now. Why did she let them do this to me? Did she even stay? Anyway, Jason’s here.
I get in the car, and much to my surprise he says, “Wow, girl, you look like hell.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I say. “Got anything good? I couldn’t get them to let me out of there with anything.” Yeah, despite how much you begged them, my subconscious mocks me.
“I might have something,” he says. “Got any money?”
Do I have any money? HA! I look like hell, I’m homeless, and he had to come get me from the hospital after overdosing last night. Do I look like I have any money? I think I have like five bucks somewhere.
I just gape at him and finally say, “Not yet, but I’m going to work on that real soon.” He drives off and heads back to his apartment. We talk the whole way about what happened and who I think did this to me, although, I’ll never really know who it was. Jason said that I can crash with him for a while until I find somewhere to stay or someone to stay with. That’s great because I have nowhere else to go, and plus, he can get me anything I want. As long as I can get the cash. Well…that could be a problem.
***
Standing out here, in the cold, on the corner where I always stand, everyone passes right by me, ignoring the fact that I’m holding a sign that says, “Hungry. Please help! Anything helps! God Bless!” I know, deep down inside, that they can see right through it when they take a good look at me, but how do they know who I am? They all look at me like I’m a piece of shit. Like they KNOW all I want is money for my dope and a high. Those motherfuckers don’t know that’s where it’s going. I could have kids at home that are hungry. They look at me like I’m white trash and ALL I do is get high. They’re just assuming. They don’t know me.
Some people are actually helpful, but only for one, two or five bucks here and there. Hey, beggars can’t be choosers. How can I get into their hearts, so that I can get more money? Burst into tears. My subconscious has a point. I could just break down into tears and be completely helpless. Or, I guess I’m going to have to start sleeping around for the shit. They all think I’m a whore anyway. Why not make it reality?
I’ve got a little bit of cash. I’m going back to see what Jason will give me for what little I have. I feel like shit, and I REALLY need something…anything.
***
I’ve been staying here with Jason for about a week now. I usually don’t take charity. I’m tying to be on my own and independent, but I need to regroup and try to get some cash together: so I took him up on his offer, and I’m still here. Usually when I need somewhere to sleep, I just crash on someone’s couch, and I’m gone before they get up in the morning. But I need somewhere to actually stay and get stronger after my incident last week. I figured a few days won’t hurt, will it? Well, now I’ve been here for a week, and I don’t want to leave. When I went out to panhandle some cash, normally I do very well out on my corner, but this last I only came out with fifty bucks for the hour or so I was out there. I was freezing and couldn’t take it anymore, so I took what I had and left.
I gave that to Jason when I cam back, and he hooked me up with a little bit. But I’m still going to need to get my hands on some more cash, so I can get more and don’t get very ill. And I’m going to get sick, if I don’t get something soon. “Jason, dude hook me up, please? I’ll do anything for it,” I beg because this is all I can think about right now. Hell, it’s all we every think about, all the time, always trying to get our next fix. Seconds after we get high, because we can’t run out, we start thinking. “I’m broke, and I’m going to be sick later if I don’t get something.”
“Anything?” He looks at me with that silly grin he always has on his face. Jason isn’t bad looking, by any means. He’s six-foot tall and skinny but muscular with red hair and the most gorgeous green eyes that sparkle in the sun. He’s the kind of addict that takes pride in his appearance. He likes to get high but refuses to “look like it”, as he says. I normally don’t fantasize about loving someone or even having a boyfriend, but I’d eat hi up and love him any day, if I wasn’t always worried about getting high.
I snap back to reality when he waves his hand in front of my face. “Anything. I’m broke. I can’t get any cash, and in a few hours, I’m going to be in trouble. Help me, please.” I turn on the charm, but I know he sees right through it. He’s been my friend since I came to college. I mean, hell, it was Lisa and partially him who helped me free myself and quit living so vicariously through Mom and Dad. Yeah, despite what I said about it being a bad idea, my subconscious says, but I push her away, again. I like him, I do, but right now I’d do anything with anyone for a good high. I’ll suck him off and just pleasure him, if he’ll get me high. I really hope he’s thinking the same thing.
“Okay,” he says, “let’s go. I know what you’re thinking.” Holy shit! Really? I can’t believe it. Is he actually going to let me pleasure him for some dope? Has he done this before? Does he like me?
“Holy hell, really?” I look at him with my mouth hung open in shock.
“Sure, why not?” he says. “I could use a good blow job, and you need some dope. You done this before?”
Well…actually, no. Not really. Not to get drugs anyway. But I’ve had sex and sucked guys off before. Just a few different guys, though.
I’m just going to wing it. I’m going to make it look like I’m the most experienced girl he knows, and hopefully we’ll be able to do this all the time. I stand up from where I’m sitting, take his hand and lead him into the bedroom and shut the door, ignoring my subconscious all the way there.
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france ship
ur character got drunk after being dumped in high school and decided to win over the love of their life by throwing rocks at their window at 3 in the morning .. only they completely missed the street n it was parkers .. she opens the window, they feel bad, apologize and leave .. next day they got seated together at math. they will do anything to pass the time.. (yea .. probably making origami and telling everyone in class to pass their rubbers so they can stack them on top of each other . ) ended up going to lunch detention more times than going to lunch but they didnt mind .. they got to see what the janitor’s storage looks like and wear those yellow cleaning gloves for the rest of the day n when someone asked them why ? they smile. no reply. they ended up going completely different ways .. while parker went to a community college for journalism .. they were probably doing much bigger things but they always kept in touch whether it was through phone calls or texts . now that they are on the show, they take every opportunity to mess w people the way they did back in the good ol days (they are old! just kidding. im barely alive)
they were NEIGHbours (haha) for a while when they were kids and they’d come over to each others houses for pancakes and spongebob. parker probably scared away their bullies by kicking a soccer ball right in the bullies face .. went hunting for the weirdest bugs they could find. sat under the table at a mutual family friends wedding the entire day talking about what dessert theyd want to be, if they were a dessert
“id like to be a cream puff. a cream puff with apricots or even a plain one. lukewarm at the bakery .. in the window.”
“a CREAM PUFF?! as in cake?”
“Of course!!! what else? a cream puff is a cream puff!!!”
“a cream puff... you are weird.”
probably lost contact completely after parker relocated w her mom so for a while they probably had no idea it was them on the show until they heard each others names ..
they worked at an indoor go karting speedway together at one point .. probably got drunk at 18 after closing hours and talked about fitting in, n broken hearts .. maybe at one point even kissed but laughed it off .. “see NOW i know why u dont have a girlfriend” . probably pranked each other at any given opportunity ( still do)
friends w benefits thing !!! we can expand on this based on ur characters personality ..
they were both stuck in the elevator before a movie casting and ended up talking non stop throughout the whole 4 hours they were there for .. they exchanged numbers but none of them actually reached out since they r both the type of people who wait for someone to talk to them first .. ended up both not getting the role so parker texted them about it and they bonded over mutual failure .. we can plot futher on what this new close proximity actually means for them ??? maybe they hate each other now??? idk things change ??? im so tired
the kind of friendship where they make each other laugh through trying to out do their own insults ... “oh nice shirt. where did you find it? at the bottom of a dumpster? smells like its been shit on. or maybe its just you” .. a big fat silence “did anyone hear something???? sounded like a big old mouth fart”
uhhhhh whateva else im tired
roman attic
(ok nevermind im tired this is just a bunch of aus i found ... we can interpret them in our own way! if ur interested .. sorry im tired x20 also these will be like in every possible narrative ever so sorry lol)
she helped them get through a rough patch without realising it. she volunteered for a free late evenings and overnights mental health help line in college and they called her every week for months then they asked her out for coffee .. there was a lot of chemistry but parker knew she couldnt invest in a relationship at the time because of her own struggles so she had to decline when they offered a proper date .. now they wanna know why
going through a really bad break up and answering the door for your pizza in a baggy t-shirt and your underwear because you have nothing left to lose and the pizza boy is genuinely very concerned about you being okay so he assures you he’s not a serial killer and invites you to get dressed and ride shotgun in his shitty silver car while he delivers pizza for the rest of the night and he listens to you talk and tells you how much off an idiot your asshole ex was
ever since 7th grade, muse a and muse b had been inseparable. the two knew each other like the back of their hands. they saw each other run through petty middle school crushes, family hardships, and more. they argued, they laughed, they did absolutely anything and everything together. however, they were always just friends. freshman year of high school muse a had confessed the crush they developed on muse b. that confession changed their entire relationship. the summer into their sophomore year, muse b stopped talking to muse a. their friendship ended within a blink of an eye. they didn’t talk for years. until senior year, muse a got into a relationship. muse a’s significant other took them to a party where muse a would be introduced to a “very important person,” the best friend. muse a was nervous, hoping and praying for the approval. when they arrived, muse a was shocked to see that the infamous best friend was muse b.
hello ???!?!??!?! love rosie plot?
here’s these two idiots who are roommates, and they bicker and act like a married couple constantly, and can hang out like best friends but they’re completely platonic, no we’re not in love that’s preposterous!! and it’s so evident that they’re into each other like whenever one goes out on a date, the other is all bitter like ‘no i’m definitely not jealous’. and they like leave bars together at some stupidly early hour and their friends tease them and they just go home and get drunk together instead. and like domestic washing the dishes and fighting over who does what and flinging soap at each other.
(forget the pronouns ... im just copying and pasting lol) i really want a plot where this totally sweet girl is dating this total ass and he prob cheats on her all the time and is so shitty to her but she stays because she’s sweet and caring and he’s all she’s ever known and they used to be so in love but anyways he’s totally one of those guys who brings around his douche friends and they sit on the couch and talk about chicks and drugs and partying and she is supposed 2 be the regular house wife gf who brings them food and sits next to him when they watch movies so he can flaunt her and just be /: a dick /: ANYWAYS his fellow douche friend starts to slowly be like god this guy is so awful to her and he starts following her out of the room instead of staying to high five his friend for cheating on her w some club girl and idk he just generally starts hanging out with her more while her bf and his other friends hang out in the basement or some shit and they’ll like sit on the porch while he smokes and they just talk or he’ll help her make food or ANYTHING and it can go so many cute ways tbh like ? he could be listening to the friend brag about sleeping around one day or see him being shitty to her like yelling at her for nothing ro smth and just be like DAMN I’VE HAD ENOUGH and finally break and yell at his friend and fight for her and accidently admit that he thinks she’s totally amazing and he’d cherish her sm or he could kiss her one night while they’re talking and they could start sneaking around behind the friends back or anything so !
m and f are both celebs. m is very cocky and a big ladies’ man who loves to sleep around and party and all that. f is a little pop star who keeps to herself and never creates drama and is well-liked by the public. m and f meet at an event one night. all m can think about afterward is f and how cool and different she is, while f never wants to see m again after living up to his reputation for being a bit of a jerk. SO m starts to do everything in his power to make f like him… and f starts to like him but in the most pure way possible ?? and they get along so well and genuinely have fun??
agent who has to protect a civilian by pretending to be married
just kiddin lol
they had that sickening real kind of love where theyd practically kill for each other.. except they never put labels on things and it turns out one of them found a more convenient love and was scared to tell the other until a big fight where everything was said and they parted ways .. they asked them to stay, said they will do anything to fix things but the only thing that could fix things was to turn the time back.. they ended unsolved because one of them just refused to answer their texts. its been a year and they still think about each other at night, even with other people in their arms. “you looked at me like i was your answer, i looked at you like you meant something”
otter
my friend can’t stop talking about how they want to set me up with their other friend so we start texting each other and disagree on everything .. somehow its amusing how we are both so invested in making each others lives harder ???? i think it makes both of our lives a little better
famlieh
bad break up thing
WEHEYYYYYYYYY
sorry im in pain
ill end this here
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ranking daniel miller outfits because apparently I have nothing better to do right now
an extremely long one y’all, so it’s under the cut
started at the bottom, now we’re.... still here at the bottom of the list
the running outfit. y’know. that one
look, I know it’s the middle of winter in Berlin and Daniel’s doing his best, but there is something about this that is just not that great. still looks 100x better than my running outfit but I think it’s the beanie that really gives this last place. or is it the double beanie? either way, not an outfit I would wear to try and romance my girl in (even if you are exercising with them). the only real redeeming feature of the outfit is the black turtleneck all zipped up
1.8/10
the sneaky sneaky boy outfit
the perfect outfit for the job because it’s completely unremarkable. the ‘hood over cap’ combo makes me expect to see a 20 year old hacker skulking about under there, but wait - surprise... it’s a handsome middle-aged man?
RA can rock a cap or hood but the double-combo just doesn’t do it for me. I guess I can be happy the third hood isn’t up as well to form a trifecta?
Daniel may need to be sneaky to do his job but I would argue that if I saw a man with a hood over his cap in broad daylight chilling in a cemetery I would have more questions than if I just saw a regularly dressed man chilling in a cemetery in broad daylight
3/10
almost every s1 suit
look, RA looks fantastic in a suit and no one is disputing that. I’m just saying that this is about as bland a suit and tie combo as it gets and from my recall of season one we see this almost every single time he’s in the station.
this one is even a bland grey. grey has it’s place but in the office it can turn into a bit of a snooze. mix up your office-wear & make it fun Daniel. wear a cool-coloured tie. put some funny socks on.
4/10
the casual summer businessman
something bothers me about this. is it the combo of the untucked shirt and the khaki pants? on their own either is fine
or is it just that this is one of the first times we see Daniel and the look has almost no personality to it? who knows
4.1/10 (for the unbuttoned collar and rolled-up sleeves)
the casual summer businessman goes to a bbq
almost the exact same outfit as the casual summer businessman, but the shirt’s a different colour which somehow makes it a lot better
this man wouldn’t look out of place at a bbq, which is a great choice from the styling team considering Daniel actually wears this to the team bbq in the show
4.5/10 solely for just being a bit plain and boring
I’ve finished filing those papers you wanted
no tie and one undone button? Daniel, you tease!
4.6/10
sneaky sneaky boy part 2
this is what I’m talking about. I still find people wearing caps indoors incredibly suspicious for someone trying to blend in (possibly because I was raised to believe that hats were an outdoors only look) but Daniel looks like a grown man and no longer looks like he should be a 20 year old hacker. success!
4.6/10 for an ultra-casual Daniel
I’m just here to file some papers and get paid
see? same suit every time. at least this one’s a nice black which is an upgrade from the grey and really suits RA
4.7/10
every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition
a non-matchy-matchy blue tie! a winter coat! a turned up collar! it may not be exciting but at least now we’re cooking
in all fairness though, our coat is quite dull and anonymous and the only real notable thing about it is the choice to keep the collar upturned. nothing to write home about if it wasn’t for the RA attached to it
4.7/10
every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition pt. 2
the hooded coat makes for a nice relaxation of the business suit. other than that, not much to say.
4.73/10
once more unto the (lapel) breach
we find ourselves having to ask: is Daniel Miller really Daniel Miller if his coat lapel isn’t popped?
this the FBI man who turns up at your house to either arrest you or escort you to safety. oh, sorry, CIA I guess given the context of the show
looks great because of RA being the one wearing it but a fairly mundane look
4.8/10
up, up, and away
bicycle Daniel was a nice look which I wasn’t expecting out of this show. mainly because I have never ever in my life seen a man in a suit on a bike.
in NZ they all use cars and at the very least bike in casual clothes then get changed at work. is biking in suits a European thing?
there’s absolutely nothing special or spectacular about the clothes, but put Daniel on a bike and it works really well?
maybe it’s the cape effect or leather gloves. or even just the notion of seeing a fully-dressed business man in a suit whiz by you on a bicycle.
whatever it is, it’s appreciated
4.8/10
the party boy
in s1 Daniel has only one look if he’s going out on the town - he ditches the tie & opens two buttons (or three if he’s feeling saucy)
I’ll never complain about this this look because let’s be honest, who would, but we also need to face reality that, like his suits, it’s also a bit repetitive and lacks a bit of something after seeing it for the 5th episode in row
4.9 /10
it might be time for you to go to bed
the party boy has finally lost his ‘I’m too cool for you’ vibe and partied his jacket and several shirt buttons off (quite literally). bonus points for the completely rumpled shirt and hair
the only thing that is eye-catching in this outfit is the skin it reveals
4/10
puzzle time *finger guns* (to anyone who didn’t grow up in New Zealand quoting this ad I apologise)
now this is a Daniel I would sit down and do a puzzle with. which is probably a good thing as he is quite literally solving a puzzle in this scene
5/10 for evoking the correct feeling from the audience but otherwise there is nothing special here
is mission impossible hiring?
the gloves? the backpack? the jacket and zipped sweater? you see this man and know your mainframe is about to be hacked
not the worst. but not the best. love the zipped sweater, could lose the gloves.
5.5/10
let’s get cozy
now this is a dapper fellow. the thin black scarf? brilliant with the signature coat collar
a Daniel who would probably lend you his coat or scarf if you complained about the cold
5.6/10
someone who would feed the ducks at the park
this is how to put in RA in a baseball cap. the subtle tartan of his scarf, which is tied in a knot? the perfect winter spy outfit
this is a Daniel you want to go on walks in a park with.
5.8/10
uncle Daniel goes on a trip to the mall
the more I look at that jacket the more I appreciate it. It’s a stunning blue which makes a nice contrast to the usual dull grey of his sweater and is a colour that looks great on RA. It even has some quilting for added interest
5.96/10
he’s the ‘fun uncle’
the warm sweater and scarf? this is the uncle who takes you out to do fun things while you’re supposed to be grounded and tells you not to tell your mom
nothing amazing in this outfit but also nothing to complain about considering it’s in s1. a funner, casual side to Daniel we don’t often see (am I bitter about never seeing his cousin and her son after s1? a little)
a solid 6/10
hope is fragile and also a black sweater
the fact that we never see this sweater on its own is what lets it down here
putting that to one side, the snuggly sweater? the green bomber jacket? this is a classic s2 Daniel look. but hang on - this is from s1?
Daniel’s letting us know via this s1 outfit that it will all be good in the near future if we can just hang on until he gets his s2 wardrobe
6.1/10 for providing hope for the future
hello? it’s your future ex-boyfriend calling
this man isn’t Daniel Miller - he’s a career model who can GET IT and he knows it
6.6/10
comfy sweater boy
so simple but so, so, so good
this is a Daniel I would want to cuddle up on a couch with. he’s a soft boy who wouldn’t hurt anyone and probably makes a great hot chocolate
6.7/10
comfy sweater boy goes for a walk outside
the colour of his sweater goes nicely with the coat. and once again: is he really Daniel Miller if his collar isn’t popped?
he loses 0.1 of a point for losing a bit of the soft boy look that the sweater just by itself brought to the party
6/10
comfy sweater boy ran out of hot chocolate at his so comes round to your place for takeaway
I just really enjoy the colour of this sweater, okay? the easy, layered sweater look? the takeaway chinese? this is a man after my heart and I’m also pretty sure I’ve worn this exact outfit before
6.1/10
if looks could kill
leather jacket? perfect. but what really brings this together? the black v-neck of course. RA never wears enough v-necks
‘nuf said
6.9/10
the Adam Price moment
this is one of the rarest of cases - a s2 outfit that wasn’t a 100% hit for me. everything about this outfit slaps except for the polo shirt
blue bomber jacket? hell yeah. hidden orange detailing on the inside? that’s what I’m talking about. colour combo of shirt and jacket? well done
polo shirt itself? meh. even if it was just a plain polo that would have been great. for some reason the embroidered logo and collar stripes push me over the edge
I don’t know why but whenever I see a man in a polo shirt like this, I immediately think they are heading to the golf course and are probably not the type of person I would chill with (given that I don’t play golf)
on Adam Price? sure. on Daniel Miller? nah, he knows better
7/10 (mainly for the bomber)
guess who’s back? back again. Adam’s back. tell a friend
I know this is lower ranked than most of the outfits on this entire list but is still found at the upper end of this list. That’s ‘cause it just had to come after the Adam Price moment, okay?
they took everything that was wrong with the Adam Price moment (e.g. the entire polo shirt) and then focused our attention on it
it doesn’t matter how tightly it clings to RA’s body, it’s not overriding my unjustified hatred of polo shirts
3.5/10
I’m here to make important calls while I dine in a fine restaurant
another updated suit look post-s1. I picture this Daniel eating at a nice Italian restaurant for lunch before returning to work for an important business conference
and is that a textured shirt I spy? well done
7.3/10
the shirt is even better without the jacket.
the undone buttons? c’mon
it’s just a nice shirt okay
7.5/10
comfy sweater boy’s older brother
for one thing, those low-slung sweatpants are a blessing and didn’t get enough screen time.
then on top of that the oversized shirt that drapes in just the right and most comfy way? the bare feet? I would call in sick to work if I saw Daniel wearing this outfit in my house
this is a Daniel who has lost comfy sweater boy’s innocence but who I would still wanna cook food and binge netflix with
this is absolute peak comfy Daniel
a well-deserved 7.8/10
the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel
this Daniel is the sum of everything that is wrong with s1 Daniel and everything that is right about s2 & s3 Daniel
the casual suit jacket. the rolled up sleeves. the loose casual shirt. this is a Daniel who works hard but knows how to have a good time and will 100% seduce you in a foreign city
8.5/10
come to the dark side
the same as the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel but with his classic coat and popped collar for some added mystery to the character
like the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel this man will 100% seduce you in a foreign city but also will not hesitate to use his superior strength to pin you against a wall while he makes out with you
8.59/10
I mean...
I’m not sure you can class underwear as an ‘outfit’ as such, but uh.... sorry, what was I saying? I got a little distracted
I refuse to put a numerical rank on this/10
don’t tell your dad about this one
I know we’ve established that underwear is not really an outfit, but these are pants so I’m gonna say this one counts.
the undone belt? the obvious shirtlessness? hanging with this man will definitely end with someone in jail (and it won’t be him). but at least it’ll be a fun ride on the way down to hell
i refuse to assign numerical value to the semi-naked ones because that’s not fair on the other outfits/10
is he here to fix a car, murder someone or sweep me off my feet? who knows and honestly who cares when he looks like that?
the khaki jacket brings in some ruggedness which tip-top Daniel below is missing while still keeping it effortlessly cool.
this is Daniel. fucking. Miller and he doesn’t care what you think
99.99/10
tip-top Daniel
this is Daniel right at his peak.
everything - the casual bomber from the Adam Price moment earlier, the plaid shirt, the undone buttons, the aviators. the HAIR.
Damn, Daniel. Damn.
100/10
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