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eddiesghxst · 7 months

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PRICE OF FAME (PART 6/12)

HIII this ones a bit spicy, but buckle in, decided to take a little turn in this part so don't hate me <3

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie realizes his true feelings for you just a little too late

contains: enemies to lovers trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, more jealous!eddie, masturbation (m), mentions of oral (f receiving), and eddie being a dick <3

word count: 4.2k

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A 4/4 kick drum is beating in Eddie’s head when he wakes up.

Eddie still hasn’t learned his lesson when trying to outdrink Jeff, so he fails every time, no matter what, because Jeff is a fucking canteen of a human. Eddie does stupid things when he gets as drunk as last night, but the good thing about being blackout drunk is you remember nothing, so there’s not much to regret and cringe about.

There’s a show tonight, and Eddie has to take Wayne to the airport, so unfortunately, Eddie can’t spend the day recovering in his bed, and he’s forced to drag himself out of bed and rinse off the sour smell of alcohol and sex from his skin.

Breakfast has definitely passed, and Eddie curses the crew for not waking him up because his stomach growls as he turns the shower on. As Eddie prepares to hop in the shower, he thinks over what little events he can remember from yesterday because why not torture himself with the embarrassment?

A particular memory doesn’t hit Eddie until he’s halfway through his shower, but god, when it does, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. Kissing you and pressing into you so close he could’ve sworn he felt the racing beat of your heart against his chest. The feeling of you beneath his fingertips, your hips grinding down onto his with those sinful and pretty sounds falling from your lips and onto his. The taste of your skin bursting in every inch of Eddie’s mouth and the overwhelming desire for more, more, more.

Eddie can’t help it with his head pounding and spinning with the lustful memory of you. He can’t help it when his hands stop doing the job of washing his body and start roaming instead. Can’t help it when his mind starts making up all these different scenarios of him fucking you as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, stroking up once and running his thumb over the head.

He hisses at the sensitive touch, eyes fluttering as he adjusts his grip and begins stroking himself. The shower wall is cool against his back when he shifts to lean against it, the sharp contrast of the cold wall and steaming hot water hitting his chest and rolling onto his cock, sending shivers up his spine.

Eddie lets his mind wander. He thinks about you and how he wants to pull more of those pretty sounds from you. He wants to lick into your mouth and sink his fingers into you so he can taste your moans as he plays with you. He wants to see how wet he can get you with just his fingers before you’re asking for more. He wants to unwrap you like a present and lay you down to part your thighs and sink to his knees, part your folds, and marvel at the way you drip and throb for him. And Eddie wonders if you would let him taste you. He wonders if you would let him suck pretty marks into your thighs until you’re whining and begging him to give you something.

“What do you want, princess? Gotta tell me what you want first.”

Eddie doesn’t even get far enough to think about sinking his cock into you before he’s cumming in spurts, white sticky ropes of cum splattering onto the shower floor as he curses and moans, chest heaving and wet hair sticking to his flushed cheeks. And Eddie’s cock is always sensitive in the morning, but he can’t seem to stop stroking himself with the image of you in his mind because fuck, he wants you, even if it’s almost painful.

And he hates that.

He hates that he wants you. Hates that he thinks about you all the way through his second orgasm— hates that he doesn’t stop thinking about you even after the fact. He hates that he thinks about you as he finishes showering and gets dressed for the day. He hates Jeff for barging in and ruining whatever could’ve happened between you two yesterday. He hates that he remembers thinking about you when he was fucking Lany into his hotel bed last night. And he hates that he can still smell her on his sheets because all Eddie wants to smell, see, hear, and touch is you. And he fucking hates it.

Yet, his chest blooms when he sees you at rehearsal. He gets that weird feeling in his chest where warmth spreads like a firework and bounces around his insides— and he gets so distracted that he fucks up a chord on the riff he was playing. No one seems to notice, so he pays no mind and keeps watching you.

And Eddie thinks about what Wayne told him this morning as they shared a quick hug before final departure, “Don’t chase that girl away, son. She’s good.”

Eddie chose not to think too hard about what Wayne meant by that.

He’s thankful he decided to wear sunglasses today because Eddie can’t seem to take his eyes off you. You look good, the way you styled your hair is different, and you’re wearing flared jeans that wrap around your ass and thighs perfectly with a fitted white top that hugs you in all the right places; Eddie, for some selfish reason, wants to believe you wore that to grab his attention. Mission accomplished.

You wander off somewhere near the end, and Eddie tries not to seem too eager when rehearsal wraps up, but he makes a beeline toward Richie and asks where you went.

Richie is too busy to ask why Eddie’s asking about you, but his questioning tone isn’t hidden when he tells Eddie you went to the snack room.

Eddie’s chest does that weird thing again when he walks into the room, fingers itching at the memory of how it felt to hold your hand. You’re standing over the snack table with your back facing Eddie when he walks up, clearing his throat to grab your attention. He frowns when you don’t turn around, but then Eddie realizes you have headphones covering your ears, so he gently taps your shoulder.

You seem startled when you turn to him, wide and pretty eyes blinking in realization as you remove your headset. “Were you saying something?” You ask.

Eddie says the first thing that comes to mind, “What are you listening to?”

“Oh,” you blink, “Um, Cass Elliot.”

Hippie shit.

You turn around to grab water from the table, and Eddie thinks this may be a bad idea because he doesn’t even know what he wants to say to you. Usually, Eddie is the one to give short and dead responses because he can’t stand you, but for the first time since he’s met you, the roles are reversed.

“Think we can finish that interview? Before the show, maybe?” Eddie asks. And god, this is embarrassing— he needs a smoke.

You turn to him again and shrug, “Nah, I think I've got enough on everyone now. I really only need the group interview now. See you tonight!”

And then you’re gone.

And Eddie thinks, what the fuck?

This isn’t how things are supposed to go. Eddie is the snippy one, and you’re the sweet one that’s way too nice to Eddie despite his disgusting attitude and bitchy personality.

Eddie’s bothered for the entire day, catching glimpses of you talking to band and crew members and James— fucking James.

Eddie wants to believe what you said yesterday, “No, nothing is going on between me and James.” but does James know nothing is going on between the two of you? Because it doesn’t fucking look like he does. Not when he keeps leaning in to talk to you, or when he shares a bag of chips with you, or when he’s practically attached to your hip for the entire day.

It’s pathetic, really, the way James is fiending for every second of your attention, and it pisses Eddie off that you’re buying into it. Showtime rolls around, and Eddie does a few lines with the band to get himself amped up before stepping on stage and playing like hell. Eddie keeps his eye on you throughout the show, and he pays the price when he sees James teaching you how to use his camera, wrapping his arms around your frame and whispering instructions in your ear as you test out taking pictures of the stage. Eddie’s chest stirs with something he doesn’t quite enjoy, and it only intensifies when he sees James drop a hand to gently rest against your hip, watching as a smile stretches across your lips in excitement when you show him the picture you’d captured.

Eddie pops a string when he sees it happen, cursing into his mic, shoving his guitar pick between his lips, and angrily removing the guitar to quickly swap it out with the spare one handed to him from the side stage. Eddie plays the rest of the show with an angry heat running through his body, and he thinks you might be doing this on purpose. Flirting around with James right in his face to make him jealous, and Eddie swears he won’t fall for whatever shitty plan this is, but fuck, do you play dirty.

You never join the band in their post-show shenanigans, but tonight, you decide to tag along for some reason— or rather, someone.

Fucking James.

Eddie thinks he should just fire him at this rate. Get rid of the problem at the root and burn the stem so it never returns because fuck James. He makes you laugh, he’s gentle with you, and he can sweet talk like a motherfucker, and Eddie knows that because he’s been on the receiving end before— he’s well aware of James and his undeniable charm. And he can’t believe you’re falling for it.

Eddie takes endless shots, trying to blur out the distasteful sight of you pressed against James’ side in the booth, talking about god knows what. The night ends relatively early since everyone is a bit tired from the day and the longer day they have planned for tomorrow, so everybody is in their respective rooms by the time the clock strikes one in the morning. But Eddie can’t seem to fall asleep— especially not with the knowledge that James definitely didn’t go to his room but instead followed you into your room. Eddie doesn’t like that.

Eddie paces his room for some time before he breaks and finds himself knocking on your door. You don’t answer for a moment, and Eddie suddenly thinks he might be strong enough to knock down a heavy oak wood door. Maybe Eddie shouldn’t have smoked before coming here. He always swears the weed will take the edge off, but in reality, it makes him dumber and more impulsive than before, as seen a few days ago when he was right in the same position— knocking on your door at an ungodly hour of the night.

Eddie raises a hand to knock again, but he’s relieved of the job when you swing the door open in nothing but a white robe, drops of water running down the sides of your neck and dripping between the valley of your chest. Eddie wants to drink up every last drop.

“Is James in here?” Eddie asks.

And maybe Eddie shouldn’t have started with that because now you look like you want to punch him in the throat. Your eyebrows furrow as your face twists in a look of annoyance, “You seriously have a fucking problem, Eddie.” You snap.

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you always come here in the middle of the night to ask me stupid questions?” You ask.

Eddie glances over your shoulder, scanning the room for any signs of a dark-haired and tattooed man, but he finds none and seems to find some ease in that. You step into his line of sight, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and Eddie blinks. “I thought you two weren’t a thing.” He says, and you roll your eyes.

“This again? Honestly, why do you care, Eddie?” Your tone teeters on the edge of impatience, and Eddie steps closer, the clean scent of your body wash invading his senses. “Are you?”

“No. I already told you, again, not that it’s any of your business—” “Does James know that?” He cuts you off.

You blink at Eddie in confusion, “What?”

Eddie’s getting tired of repeating himself because he knows you can hear him loud and clear, and you’re just avoiding giving him an answer. Eddie steps closer, practically inside your room and towering over you, and he can’t help it when his eyes dart to your lips and the clear view of your damp chest. “Does James know that you’re not into him?” He repeats.

You gaze up at Eddie, eyes narrowing as you repeat your question from earlier, “Why do you care?”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Eddie grumbles, fingers curling into the palms of his hands to restrain from reaching out and touching you. And you’re making it so hard, standing there and gazing up at him with these eyes that dare him to do something— reach out, touch me, feel me.

You tilt your head as you speak, a sly grin dancing across your lips, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” You mock.

Eddie laughs softly and humorlessly, “Why would I be jealous of him, princess?” He hums, stepping closer once again, forcing you to step back into the entryway of your room to make room for Eddie to step in fully. His gaze falls again, and you run the tip of your tongue along your bottom lip, “Does he know what you feel like?” Eddie asks. “What I feel like?”

Eddie mindlessly shuts the door behind him, the air thickening with tension in the room as he inches a little closer. So close and yet not close enough. “Yeah. Does he know what your pretty moans sound like? Does he know how you taste, hm?”

You’re sharing breaths now, so close to one another that your lips are brushing against his as you speak, “Do you know how I taste?” You tease. Eddie hums, “Not the best part.”

He presses his lips to yours, soft moans leaving you both at the sudden contact as he finally reaches out and lets his hands roam your body. The robe you have on is thick and soft, but it’s not what Eddie wants to touch. He wants to feel the warmth of your skin and squeeze and grab at the soft and thick parts of you until you moan for more.

You blindly stumble further into your room, lips busy moving against one another with tongues fighting for dominance. And Eddie thinks you give the most addicting kisses he’s ever had; every movement is right and sends bursts of colors behind his eyelids, sloppy and wet but so fucking good to the point where he wishes he could kiss you forever.

“The best part?” You manage to say between kisses. Eddie hums in distracted confusion, advancing to kiss you harder as you drop onto your bed. Eddie towers over you, palms sinking into the plush material of the comforter. “What’s the best part?” You ask.

Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk, smattering kisses down your neck as his fingers dance across your robe to the loose knot holding it closed. He moves back to kiss you as he tugs on the fluffy, thick string, and you gasp against his lips when his cool fingers sneak into the open robe and skim across your warm stomach. “The best part,” Eddie begins, leaning down to nip at your jaw as his hands roam your bare skin. “The best part is what’s sitting between these pretty thighs of yours, sweetheart.” He sucks at the skin of your neck, and you mewl as his fingers squeeze at your thigh, pushing your knees apart to open you up for him.

And Eddie has every intention to fuck you right now. He’s been dreaming about what it’d be like to lick into your sweet cunt, to sink his cock in you and watch as every coherent thought melts from your brain, to make you cum over and over until you’re begging him to stop.

But suddenly, you’re pushing Eddie away, a shaky palm pressing into his chest as your thighs squeeze shut, “I-I can’t,” you shake your head, “You have a girlfriend.”

And well, this is news to Eddie. “I have a what now?”

Your lips are pouty and cute, and Eddie wants to go back to kissing you, but you’re wriggling your way out from beneath him and padding across the floor to your desk. Eddie sits on the edge of your messy bed, palming his neglected cock as he watches you grab a newspaper and walk back over to him. He tries his best not to stare at the sway of your breasts beneath your open robe or the cute little panties he gets a glimpse of, but he fails and throbs beneath the palm of his hand. You stand in front of him with a frown, handing the paper to Eddie as he gazes up at you with wide eyes and swollen lips.

Eddie isn’t sure what this is, and the only thing running through his mind is the incessant need to get off, but he humors you anyway and snatches the paper with a look of boredom. You adjust your robe back around your body and cinch it tighter than before, and Eddie mentally mourns the loss of his moment to finally see those pretty tits you’ve been teasing beneath those tight shirts of yours. He flips the newspaper upright and grazes over the page until he sees it— “Corroded Coffin lead singer, Eddie Munson, new girlfriend debut!”

It’s a blown-up picture of Eddie leaving the club, a drunken and sly smirk plastered across his lips with a pretty little redhead he likes to frequently fuck wrapped around his arm— Lany.

Summer of ‘87 Corroded Coffin went on their very first tour. It was three months long, only covered about four states, and was mostly a shitshow, but the boys were just happy to have booked an actual tour— something bigger than The Hideout.

Groupies didn’t come around until about halfway through the tour— and look, Eddie had his fair share of men and women by that time, but it was different when they were practically throwing themselves at Eddie, and he didn’t have to work for it.

Lany was Eddie’s first groupie. Sweet and pretty with a silky smooth voice and a wicked mouth that blew Eddie’s little inexperienced mind. Lany and her group of friends tagged along with Corroded Coffin for the rest of their tour, and when Eddie asked Lany where he could find her, Lany simply responded with a sweet, “I’m never where I should be, you know that. I’ll find you when you go big.” And a kiss.

And she did. Eddie didn’t see Lany for years until their second world tour and they were now on their fifth, so it’s safe to say, Lany is a fucking veteran of a groupie.

But Lany isn’t Eddie’s girlfriend.

Far from it, actually, and Eddie’s not sure why the paparazzi are all of a sudden interested in whatever groupies he’s fucking because they usually could care less. Nothing is interesting about Eddie Munson fucking a random girl nobody knows, so who gave them the idea that they’re not only fucking, but dating?

Despite the confusion reeling through Eddie’s mind, something else overtakes and he snickers, glancing up at you with a smug grin, “You been reading up on me, sweetheart?” He teases.

Your expression switches to one of annoyance as you snatch the newspaper out of his hands, ignoring the smirk plastered across his lips as you huff, “No, I— it came with the room service I ordered.” You fold your arms over your chest.

Eddie’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he stands up and steps toward you, tilting his head tauntingly as he speaks, “And you read it, and what? Got jealous?”

Eddie has you trapped against the edge of your desk now, and his fingers skim the warmth of your fingers as he takes the paper from your hand. “This is fake news, princess.” He says with a mocking glint in his eye. He tosses the piece onto the desk and you glance at it, a frown etched deep into your lips.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Eddie assures you, leaning forward to smear kisses across your jaw. You shift beneath him, finger coming up to dig into the flexing muscle of his arms as he snakes his hands around your hips, pulling you closer. “She’s at every show. And you go out together all the time.” You point out beneath a needy breath.

“Because she’s a groupie, sweetheart. She goes everywhere I go, that’s kind of the point.”

Eddie rucks you up against him, sucking another bruise into your skin and reeling at the noise you make. “That’s mean…” You mumble, and Eddie laughs against your skin. “It’s not mean if it’s the definition.” He argues.

“So what, you got jealous of a groupie? You want a chance to be my groupie, hm? That’s why you’re upset, princess?” He noses at the skin below your ear before licking the spot and smiling when you shiver against him. Then, for the second time tonight, you’re pushing Eddie away with a disgruntled look. You shake your head, trying to collect your thoughts as your chest heaves in hidden excitement from Eddie’s teasing. “I’m not— I’m not some groupie, Eddie.”

And Eddie looks at you like you’ve just said the sky is blue, “I’m a journalist. I came here to work and you…” You pause and blink at Eddie as if thinking over your following words, “You’re just getting in the way.”

And Eddie doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like the way it sounds or the way you said it or the way it makes him feel. He hates it.

“Getting in the way?”

“Yes, Eddie, you’re getting in the way,” You snap, irritation heavy within your tone. “I’ve been patient with you this entire time, but you just— you’re such a fucking asshole. I mean— none of this should be happening— this,” you gesture between the two of you, “shouldn’t be happening.”

Eddie’s face pinches in defense, “Nothing is happening here, birdie.”

And you scoff, shaking your head as you speak, “Then why are you here, Eddie?”

And this is the first time either of you has pointed out the obvious mix of feelings stirring between you both, and it makes Eddie’s skin run cold— because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know why your words are upsetting him. He doesn’t know why he hates it when James is around you. He doesn’t know why every time he thinks of you or sees you he gets that warm rush in his chest— he just knows it’s there.

And it scares Eddie. It scares Eddie to realize that he was wrong about you, to realize that you aren’t all those mean things he said about you, to realize that maybe he likes you a lot more than he’d like to admit. It scares him.

Eddie shakes his head like the words are in there but can’t seem to say them, and he hates it. He hates feeling this way. He hates knowing that he fucked this up way worse than he’d thought because you’re looking at him like you never want to see him again. And you have every right. Because Eddie has put you through more than enough, and honestly speaking, there isn’t a single way Eddie sees this turning in his favor. He’s ruined everything before anything could even happen.

And Eddie hates that.

Your arms slink around your body to protectively shield your frame, and Eddie can visibly see you shrinking into yourself, and he can’t believe he’s the reason why. It hits Eddie like a fucking freight train. All the weeks of tormenting and mean games Eddie has played with you, it’s all bullshit. It was Eddie’s way of protecting himself, and in the end, he only ended up hurting the most delicate and kind person he thinks he’s ever met.

“I think you should go.” You softly say.

And you can’t even look Eddie in the eyes, and Eddie wants to scream. He wants to pull you in, spew out apologies, and beg for any sliver of forgiveness you can give, but you— you’re too far gone. Eddie pushed you off the ledge and watched you drift away, only to cast a rope at the last second. But Eddie’s rope is too short, and you’re gone.

Still, even though Eddie knows he’s done enough damage, his pride wins him over, and on his way out, he turns to say his last piece, “You know, everything was fine until you came along. This is exactly why I didn’t want you here.”

And you both know what he’s talking about. The mixed feelings and the drama— all of it. None of it would’ve happened if you never came along, and even if Eddie thinks he wishes you never happened, he knows he feels the opposite. You both know it.

And if Eddie sees the tiny glimpse of you wiping at your face, he doesn’t mention it. He only leaves you with his words and the slamming of the door.

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part seven

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a/n: HELLO U MADE IT TO THE END! I HOPE THE GIRLIES ARENT TOO MAD W ME, IK EVERYONE WANTED READER TO HAVE HER MOMENT SO WE GOT A LITTLE SNIPPET OF IT HERE BUT ITS ONLY THE BEGINNINGGG !! as always, thank u for making it to the end and i always love to hear how you feel about it !! <3

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@mvnsonslvt @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @eddielives1986

592 notes · View notes

circus4apsycho8 · 6 months

Note

Oh also did I request a oneshot of the reader taking care if the ninja during child's play cause my more is horrible

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝟷 (𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝟸) 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚕. 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛!

𝚒 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚍𝚔 𝚢𝚎𝚝!

child's play. | ninja & reader

There has to be a story here somewhere.

You push your way through the sea of bodies clustered on the sidewalk, eyes trying to locate a nearby street sign. Soon enough, you do, taking a moment to ensure that the street name you’re on matches the one on your phone’s map.

“The museum has to be close,” you mumble, heading down the correct sidewalk. As you do, your eyes occasionally dart to your phone to verify that you’re continuing in the correct direction.

As you round the corner of the block, you notice a few pedestrians milling around, some waiting for the phone booth to open. You pass it, not noticing the hopeful stares of four pairs of eyes looking at you.

Your mind shifts to the details you had heard concerning the break-in that had occurred within the museum early this morning: the police had caught four children red-handed with a stolen sarcophagus nearby. And although they’re in the process of investigating the museum’s security feed, something about the whole situation seems off. And it’s your job to figure out why and let the world know about it.

You’re about to cross the street when you hear someone yelling your name from behind you.

Frowning, you turn, shutting your phone off as you look around.

“Down here!”

You shift your stare down, finding four children stationed in front of you. Something about them seems...uncannily familiar, but that couldn’t be because you don’t know any children personally.

“Hi there,” you greet hesitantly. “What do you need?”

“You’ve gotta help us!” cries the redheaded boy, eyes wide as he jumps forward and gestures wildly. “We were trying to stop Lord Garmadon from resuscitating the Grundle with the Mega Weapon, but then we got caught up in its spell and it made us kids again and now we’re stuck as kids running from the Grundle but we can’t even go anywhere because we’re kids now!”

For a moment, you’re speechless as you try to process what he’s saying. You try to be polite, but all that comes out is: “What?”

The brown-haired boy shoves the redhead roughly. “You can’t just say it like that! She doesn’t even recognize us yet!”

“My apologies,” adds the white-haired child. “My friend is a bit rattled from the events of the morning. Do you recognize us?”

“...No?” you wonder, frowning. “Should I?”

“We’re the ninja!” the black-haired boy cries. “Remember? We work with you a lot during the public conferences!”

“We just got turned into kids because we were trying to stop Garmadon!” explains the brunet. “Remember? I’m Kai, that’s Jay, Cole, and this is Zane.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“You work as our journalist! Well, kind of!” adds the redhead – Jay? “You’re about to investigate the museum, because wherever there’s trouble, you follow! And we just happen to be there like eighty percent of the time!”

“You always help us out with the public press conferences,” Cole notes. “You give us advice on how to reply and join in on our discussions.”

“Are you kidding me?” you respond. “Wait, wait, so let me make sure I’m understanding you correctly. You’re actually the ninja, and during your fight against Garmadon, you got turned back into children?”

Kai nods. “Exactly. And now, there’s a revived Grundle preparing to hunt us all down when the sun sets. And we’re basically powerless against it!”

“Oh my stars,” you mumble, rubbing your forehead. Well...this is certainly not how you expected the day to go. But you know they have to be the ninja now, considering what they told you. “Okay...okay. Fine. What do you need me to do?”

“We managed to get in contact with a teammate,” Jay notes. “We have to meet him at Buddy’s Pizza in three hours!”

“Three hours?!” Cole exclaims. “Why so long?!”

“Because! Lloyd has to get into contact with Sensei Wu and Nya, then find a way to get down here without an adult! Which, as we now know, is much harder than we initially thought!”

Whew. A few hours with mini ninja. This should be interesting.

“Okay, so...what do you guys need me to do?” you question.

“We need a ride, for starters,” Kai answers. “We can’t get around anywhere without an adult.”

“Well, my car’s parked in a garage a few blocks away,” you note. “We could just use that.”

“That’s perfect!” Jay chirps.

“Any chance we can stop for breakfast, by the way?” Cole asks, earning an elbow to the stomach by Jay. “Oof! What was that for?! We’ve been out all night!”

“You can’t just ask her to do that! That’s rude!” Jay admonishes with a frown.

“Actually, I'm kind of hungry too,” you note. “Fine. Let’s go. You said we have about three hours, right? So, we have some time to kill.”

“See! She gets it!” Cole taunts victoriously.

“Just...just make sure you all stay close. The streets are crowded today, and I don’t want to go losing any of you,” you direct, deciding to follow behind them so you can keep an eye on the four.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re not actually kids, you know! We still remember adult stuff!” Kai announces.

You sigh, listening to their banter as the five of you start the trek back to your car. As you watch them, you give them instructions on where and when to switch direction when needed.

Thankfully, you’re able to make it to the intersection leading to the parking garage without much trouble.

“There it is!” Kai yells, taking a step towards the street. “Come on, let’s go!”

Your heart lurches as you spot an oncoming car from the right, hand immediately latching onto Kai’s shoulder before he can walk. The car speeds past, making them gasp.

“Don’t go until I say it’s okay!” you scold as you let go of his shoulder. “You guys aren’t big enough to see around the cars parked on the street! They block most of your view!”

Kai chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares at the car that had passed. “Sorry. Force of habit, I guess.”

“You should still look both ways on the street, regardless of your age,” you state, watching as the pedestrian light turns to the ‘walk’ signal. You double-check that the road is clear before ushering the group across.

Now at the entrance of the parking garage, you watch as the ninja fall into a single-file line.

“We’re headed to the elevator,” you instruct, pointing towards the mentioned object just a few feet ahead.

“Elevator! Oh my gosh, can I push the button?!” Jay questions, eyes bright again as he proposes the idea.

“No way, I wanna push it!” Kai butts in, frowning.

“Not if I push it first!” Cole challenges.

“Why does it matter?” Zane wonders.

With that, you find yourself groaning as you listen to the ninja as they start bickering over who gets to push the freaking button. You wonder how to get them to stop when an idea occurs to you.

“Guys, you’re pushing my buttons!” you grumble before taking a breath. “Okay. How about this? Jay can push the first button, since he was the first to suggest it. Kai can push the floor button, then Cole can push the button that closes the door. Finally, when we get up to the level, Zane can push the button that keeps the door open. Sound good?”

Thankfully, this manages to satisfy the group as they agree and quiet down. Jay taps the up button, watching as it lights up.

“Haha! That never gets old!” he laughs, the four watching as the sign showing the elevator’s current level decreases. When it gets to the ground floor, a ding sounds.

The door opens, revealing a couple inside. You step in front of the boys, blocking them from butting their way inside first.

“Please, go ahead,” you say, smiling. The strangers thank you as they exit, the ninja filing in moments after. “Kai, press 3A.”

“Ha! My turn!” Kai shouts, aggressively pushing his designated button.

“Use your inside voice!” you remind exasperatedly, sighing as Cole closes the door with his button.

Thankfully, the group quiets down for a moment as the elevator ascends. Though, you notice that they’re sending each other knowing looks. Are they planning something?

Just as the elevator is about to stop at the target floor, the four jump in unison. You gasp as they land, causing the elevator to shake.

“We went so high!” Jay exclaims.

“It would have been better if we had waited slightly longer,” Zane notes, calmly tapping his assigned button.

You sigh, watching as they exit with excited chatter about the elevator jump.

“Okay, this way. Stay to the right, and next to me,” you instruct, leading the group to your car.

“Echo!” Jay yells. “Aw, man, it doesn’t really echo in here. Lame parking garage.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your keys out and unlocking the car. You open the back door, realizing you have another problem.

“Wait,” you say, making them all stop. “Let me see...who’s the tallest?”

“I am,” Zane states.

“Okay. You’ll sit in the passenger seat, then, because I only have three seat belts in the back.”

“Aw, come on!” Kai whines.

“Kai, shut up,” Cole retorts. “Just be grateful that we have a ride that we won’t have to pay for!”

“Sorry,” Kai mumbles sheepishly. You chuckle, watching as Zane makes his way to the other side. You help the smaller ninja clamber into the vehicle, making sure they’re all buckled up before you shut the door.

“Okay,” you mutter, opening the driver’s door and entering. You set all of your belongings down on the console before shoving your keys into the ignition. “Everyone’s all buckled up, right?”

They respond with a chorus of affirmations.

“Good,” you note. “Okay. Let’s go eat.”

…

After designating Zane as the car DJ and letting each of the ninja take turns picking music, you finally arrive at the agreed breakfast place. After you park, the sound of unbuckling takes over the interior before you exit with everyone else.

“I love this place!” Cole admits as you hold the door open for all of them.

“So do I,” you agree, following them inside after they enter.

“Good morning. Just five today?” the host question.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

“Alright,” he acknowledges, turning around to pull out the needed number of menus. You notice that he only picks out one regular menu, the other four being paper menus accompanied with packs of crayons. “Follow me, please.”

After being seated, the host distributes the menus before letting you all decide what to order.

“I remember these!” Jay says, pointing towards the black and white picture of a dinosaur next to the kid’s menu. “Man, why do they assume that just because you’re an adult means you don’t want to color?”

“Because coloring is lame,” Kai answers, glaring at his picture of Lightning McQueen.

“I kind of liked it,” Cole admits, opening his crayon pack. You notice that he was given a picture of a cartoony cat. “I bet I can do it even better now.”

“You are supposed to color the image?” Zane wonders, studying the cute, furry monster on his page. “Perhaps I will give it a try. I have never experienced this.”

“How about this?” Jay suggests. “Whoever has the best picture wins!”

“Wins what?” Kai inquires.

“The glory of being the best artist on the team,” Cole answers.

You watch in quiet amusement as they all start coloring, quietly discussing amongst themselves. You can't help but giggle upon remembering that these are the destined protectors of Ninjago – fearsome wielders of the Elements of Creation, all participating in a coloring contest at some random breakfast place. What a strange day.

After the waitress comes by to collect your orders, you elect to watch the four.

Kai seems to be scribbling in his color loosely, often going outside of the lines but not really caring. At one point, he even snaps his blue crayon in half - much to Jay’s dismay. He decides to put a pair of angry eyebrows on Lightning McQueen before declaring his masterpiece complete.

Jay appears to be taking their impromptu contest more seriously, taking his time coloring in the dinosaur but also adding some silly features – like a mustache and top hat. He draws a yellow sun with a smiley face in the corner of the paper.

Cole elects to go a more realistic route – he colors the cat slowly, taking the time to add smaller details that make the picture appear less cartoonish. He even takes the extra step to add a background, too – it appears to be an alleyway, with another cat perched atop a trash bin. You think you even see him trying to blend the colors together.

Zane seems a bit unsure of how to start, but after a brief chat with Cole, he decides on a simple design for his monster. He makes its body a gradient of green to blue before adding some yellow for the polka dots scattered about the torso. His markings are neat, calculated, and precise.

You smile softly, sipping on your drink as you observe the group. This could certainly make for an interesting story.

Eventually, the food arrives, and the drawings are forgotten. The five of you thank the waitress before tucking into your respective meals.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you start between bites. “You guys said that Garmadon revived a Grundle?”

“Yeah, he did!” Jay confirms. “It’s gonna hunt us down once the sun sets.”

“You sound a little less freaked out than I expected,” Kai interjects.

Jay shrugs. “At least I get to go out after a day of reliving some of my favorite childhood moments. Pushing the elevator button, jumping in it, then coming here to color and eat chicken tenders with honey mustard? It’s not a bad last day, you know.”

Kai rolls his eyes, finishing up the last few bites of his grilled cheese. “Guys, seriously. What are we going to do about this thing? Our Spinjitzu’s worthless!”

“We’d better hope that Lloyd has an idea,” Cole adds. “I mean...who would know how to stop an animal that’s supposed to be extinct?!”

“There is little research about them that I can access at the moment, which only adds to the problem,” Zane chimes in, frowning. “Hopefully Lloyd will be able to contact Sensei and Nya in time.”

“I hope so,” you mumble. “But we do know for sure that it’s nocturnal, right?”

“Yes, it is. My assumption is that it will seek shelter until dusk before continuing to track our scents,” Zane explains.

“Awesome!” you chirp sarcastically. “So, you’re basically just hoping that your friend has an idea?”

“Pretty much. We’ve gotten pretty good at getting ourselves out of messes like this,” Jay notes.

“Yeah, I know things look pretty bleak right now, but come on! Of all people, you should have at least a little faith in us!” Cole adds.

Okay. Fair point – they are good at digging themselves out of situations like this. “Alright, alright. Fine. What should we do next?”

“I know exactly where to go,” Jay states, grinning wickedly. “I’ll explain on the way!”

With that, the group finishes up eating before you pay. Before you leave, however, you sneakily collect the ninja’s drawings with a soft smile as an article idea occurs to you.

…

Jay’s secret place had turned out to be a random playground.

“Seriously, Jay?!” Cole wonders. “I thought you said that this place would be secure enough for us to talk!”

“Is it!” Jay counters. “I mean, who would suspect us to form our game plan on a playground?”

“You don’t even want to talk about the plan, you just want to go down the slide!” Kai accuses.

“Haha! And you don’t?!”

Before you can even say anything, the four are already unbuckling and sailing out of the car.

“Seriously?” you mumble, sighing. Well, since you have to wait anyway...maybe you can at least get some work done.

You grab your laptop bag, walking over to one of the picnic tables nearby. You sit down facing the ninja before pulling your computer out.

Their yells and laughter accompany the chirping of birds, only adding to the inspiration for your new article:

Tapping into our inner child: what we can learn from the saviors of Ninjago...

#ninjago x reader #ninja x reader #ninja & reader #kai & reader #kai x reader #jay & reader #jay x reader #cole x reader #cole & reader #zane x reader #zane & reader #ninjago & reader

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snakxreader · 6 months

Note

This probably sounds weird as hell but gender-neutral journalist thinking that they may have feelings for wambus?

(I know that there has to be people who crush on him)

A/N: Anon. Anon the entire fandom crushes on Wambus. He is second to Floofty in the sexygrump status. You are not alone and we welcome you with open arms. Enjoy the fic!

Wambus x Journalist (Journalist Catching Feelings)

This was both mutually the worst and best thing to happen to them.

Gaining a crush on the local farmer in Snaxburg was…not their best decision. But really, could they blame themselves? Every minute they’ve spent around him, they can’t stop looking. From the moment they met him at his old garden, by the falls. The dark almost navy blue on his fur, his hard emerald eyes and grump above, he had such toned muscles.

He could throw them off a cliff that broke at least ten different bones in their body and you’d still ask them to do it again.

And maybe life would’ve been easier if it was just that, just that fleeting bit of attraction that made them stumble all over their interview with him, but the more time they spend with him? Well.

They love his puns, the dumb little ones that get a giggle out of you. How he’s always checking up on them, despite a long day. Even where more people came to town, more mouths to feed, he still found time. Gave them a packet of his sauce everyday, “To keep your’ strength up,” he said, patting their shoulder. Even inviting them to the garden sometime.

Everything about Wambus set their heart aflame and they felt incredibly dumb for it. You’re supposed to be looking for Lizbert, not trying to make out with one of her expedition members!

Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Maybe…maybe they’d get over it. They could get over it! Just had to focus really hard on their job, find Elizabert, help out the town and they’d be so busy they couldn’t possibly think about-

“Hey there.”

They yelped, turning to face a suprised Wambus with bristled fur. The part of their brain that had critical thinking skills promptly clicked off, leaving the journalist to scramble.

“Oh, uh, hey Wambus! What-what’s up?”

“Just wanted to see if you were alright. Ya been spacing out quite hard.” He replied, his surprise adapting to a more curious look. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Just….stuff relating to Lizbert…” Not a complete lie. Wambus did have something to do with Lizbert. Either way, the farmer nodded along. “Darn shame.” He sighed, sitting down to take his hat off and wow, he looks hotter without it. “Hope she turns out safe.”

“M-me too.” The journalist stuttered.

Wambus hummed. A beat of silence passed.

“Stranger.” You jolted, turning to face him. “I know it’s…hard…not ta think of the worst case scenario. Grump knows I’ve thought it myself..but.”

He set his hat back on, staring at them with a firmness that made the journalist struggle to pay attention to his words rather than his eyes. “As cheesy as it grumpin sounds…having a bit of hope never hurt anyone. Even if you’re looking at the worst case. Even if you have to prepare for the worst.” He smiled softly at them. The journalist was grateful that the darkened sky held your blush relatively well.

“…Yeah. I know.” Even if it wasn’t exactly what was bothering them, it made them feel tons better. “Thanks Wambus.”

“Course.” He tipped his hat, before standing to stretch. “I plan on sitting here a bit longer, wanna join me?”

They tried not to think about romantic fantasies revolving around them and Wambus by a campfire. Totally not kissing him. “C-can’t. Gotta….catch a thing. For Filbo.”

“Alright. Take care now.”

“Same to you!” They said, walking away from Wambus. They waited until they were a good few feet away before groaning. They were so screwed, weren’t they? These feelings were not going away.

Grump fucking damnit.

#bugsnax #bugsnax x reader #I’m just gonna start using that for convenience sake #bugsnax journalist #the journalist bugsnax #wambus troubleham #Wambus simps come eat

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turtlethebean · 4 months

Text

JoMarina Week Day 3: Tea

Also available on AO3: A Much Needed Talk - Turtle_The_Bean - Criminal Case (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

Marina sat in her office with the two cups of sweet, amber Darjeeling tea that she had prepared for this session. Breathing in the smell helped to calm her nerves for this meeting. She had posed this as a friendly get-together between two colleagues who may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but her goal was to learn more about Jonah, more specifically, his weaknesses.

She needed to know more about the people who tried to kill her all those years ago. The people who gave her a scar, hospitalised her for almost two days because of where the bullet hit, and forced her to wear scarves just to cover it up. The scar still ached to this day, a constant reminder of what happened back then.

She couldn’t understand why they would attempt to assassinate a college student. Sure, she did expose them, but not a lot of people are willing to take college students seriously, especially when they talk about something like politics. Then again, money makes the world go around, and some people will do anything to protect themselves from losing it.

However, she acknowledged that she still needed to get along with Jonah. The two were coworkers now, two people working towards the same goal. They should be able to get along, even with their differences. The Bureau, after all, was known for some unlikely friendships amongst their ranks, and Marina knew pretty much all of them.

“Hey.” A familiar voice came from her doorway. She looked up to see Jonah standing slightly nervously in front of her.

“Ah, good morning,” Marina changed her demeanour into something more relaxed, “Come on in. Take a seat.”

Jonah finally got out of the doorway, closing the door behind him. He walked over to Marina’s desk and sat down across from her. He took the mug that she had laid out on the table for him and took a sip from it. He seemed to enjoy the first sip and began to drink it excitedly.

“It seems you’re enjoying your tea.” Marina smiled, happy to see him so excited over something.

“Oh yeah, it may be expensive, but I gotta say, Darjeeling is probably one of my favourite teas.” Jonah grinned back.

“I’m glad we can agree on that. I made sure to pick some up while we were in India. It is the origin country, after all. I knew I was bound to get some good quality.”

As she spoke to him, Jonah couldn’t help but notice Marina scribbling something down on a piece of paper. He began to get curious as to what it was, hoping that it wasn’t something bad about him.

“Hey, whatcha writing about?” He asked anxiously, not knowing how she would respond.

“Hm? Oh, I just take note of what everyone’s favourite teas are. It helps make people feel more comfortable when they’re in my office.”

“Well, in that case, you may want to write down rooibos as my actual favourite.”

“Noted. I have to say, though, nobody else in the Bureau has claimed that as their favourite tea as of yet.”

“Heh, I mostly like it because it reminds me a lot of where I grew up. I guess you could say it’s a taste of home.”

“That reminds me, where did you grow up?”

“Soweto, in South Africa. Well, that’s where I was for a good chunk of my life. We did move around a lot. Military dad? Y’know?”

“I understand. My mother used to travel around Russia and occasionally to other countries like China or America for her career. I always knew Saint Petersburg was my home, but sometimes it didn’t really feel like it with all the travelling.”

“I get ya. Funny how we both ended up in the Bureau then, huh?”

“Yes, but I do believe there may be a bit of a pattern with people who are used to travelling joining the Bureau, typically those whose jobs or parents’ jobs relied on it. For example, I know you’re close with Carmen, and being an investigative journalist means that she did travel a lot for her job.”

“True. Hell, that’s how I met Carmen. I had a couple of contracts in Yemen when she was there. We ended up talking about the war and it turns out I had some valuable information for her. I’m glad we stayed friends after she started working here. It’s great to have friends you can trust in places like this.”

Now Marina was getting to the parts she wanted to ask him about. The parts of his life that many would’ve buried, but he seemed fairly comfortable in talking about them.

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about your life as a hitman,” She leaned closer to him, “Do you know the type of person that you would usually take contracts from?”

“Honestly, at the time, I was kinda desperate for work. I used to take whatever was given to me. I started looking more into the people who were hiring me after the incident in Saint Petersburg, though. Knowing some politician hired me to kill you, especially since you were just a college student, the guilt’s been eating away at me for years.”

Marina couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Jonah after that last statement. She was, at the very least, glad to hear that her story had changed the way he took contracts, helping him be a bit more responsible about the people he took contracts from. She always enjoyed changing people’s lives for the better.

That’s why she became a psychologist, after all. To stop people from living the same mental torment without any help.

She remembered that drowning feeling. Like the weight of everything going on in her life was dragging her down deeper into the sea of her own mind. Any time she got a bit of reprieve, another wave would come crashing down on her, dragging her back into the ocean of her own mind.

She hated that feeling and didn’t want anyone else to feel like that.

“Hey, are you…feeling okay?” Jonah asked, tilting his head to the side.

Marina had almost forgotten where she was when she snapped out of her memories.

“I’m fine. Sorry, you can go now.” She explained, closing her book like she always did when her sessions were over.

“Nah, I like talking to you.” He smiled at her sweetly, making any of the ice that was in her heart from her thoughts melt.

“Alright then,” She reopened her book, “What do you want to talk about?”

#criminal case #criminal case save the world #criminal case season 3 #marina romanova #jonah karam #jomarina week 2024

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onetrickjeffrey · 2 years

Text

Jaythony commission + "Struggle" short story

Absolutely in love with this commission from @cherryrollarts of Jaythony and Wiggle. Working with artists in the Bugsnax community has been such an amazing and inspirational experience for me. I love seeing my little grumpus interpreted in so many different styles, and I'll definitely be getting to more artists in the fandom soon! Please check out her page and consider a commission from her!

I intended this piece to accompany a short story I wrote out, showing a moment between Wiggle and Jaythony after her own experience with the Megamaki, but right before the Point of No Return. It's a short read and intended to be understandable with only canon game context, but a look at Jaythony's Bio wouldn't hurt. Find it below the cutoff!

"Slower with the chord shifts, darling. It's okay to let the rhythm lag a little. Focus on getting those strings to sing with each other, even if it takes time."

Jaythony clenched his fingers as they stretched across the neck, then slid the pick down the banjo's crescent body. After a few stuttered swipes of his hand, he slowly shifted down to the next chord. The instrument sang in mild dissonance to the sound that preceded it, after which Wiggle smiled humorously.

"Don't sweat it too hard. You can at least tell your friends that you've played on the very banjo 'Do the Wiggle' was born from."

Jaythony managed a chuckle. "The very one?"

Wiggle nodded, and Jaythony conceded, "That's something I guess," but fatigue slowly overpowered his smile.

Wiggle relaxed down on the bench, giving an interested smile. "You've been catching my curiosity, darling. Whenever I need to stretch my legs in the middle of the night, you're still here, long after the rest of the town is out cold. And you're lost in the music. I think I even heard one of my little numbers flowing from those tin cans around your neck…but you look so despondent through it all. Maybe try singing your woes to me?"

Jaythony turned away in passive refusal. However, a moment passed, and his desperation overpowered him. He looked down at the banjo and replied:

"I took a direction in life, Wiggle, and I don't like where it's taking me. I thought I was okay on the sidelines, appreciating the creations of others while I stayed a…footnote. But now I'm in the spot I was preparing for all my life…and I hate it. I abandoned every passion I had because I thought it was the 'smart' thing to do for my future…I want to create again."

Wiggle tilted her head in confusion. "Then create again, darling. Who says you can't?"

"There's no room for me in that world anymore," Jaythony insisted. "I could've tried to be something when I was younger - an artist or musician or anything - and stuck with it like you did. How could I go back to that? That world…it would chew me up and spit me back out if I tried to catch up."

Wiggle stared solemnly, searching for the words to bring the dejected grumpus back to reality. Despite how distant Jaythony believed their outlooks were, she couldn't help but find familiarity in his woes. The words came to her, and she asked:

"Jaythony…what do you think I've been doing on this island?"

"Finding your muse. You said something like that, right?"

"I mean what I've really been doing, darling."

He shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"I've been going on a nonsense chase over these ridiculous snax. I almost got our little journalist friend devoured by an ancient seafood colossus…" Wiggle paused; her stare melded to the campfire as it crackled in the silence. "I took advantage of the few people who actually cared for my work, all because I was desperate for some magic inspiration to strike me again and put me back on top."

She turned her gaze back to him and continued with a comforting smile, "The ones at the top, the ones you think got it all figured out…they're still struggling as hard as the day they started. That's all it is: just struggle. Nobody forgets how to struggle. You just gotta give yourself the chance to express it again."

Jaythony stared at his paw as it wrapped around the banjo's neck. He almost rejected her words on impulse, but the toxicity that plagued his head began to subside. He looked to Wiggle and asked, "You really think, after all this time, I still have a chance to make something out of this?"

Wiggle chuckled, "Don't ask me, darling. Search for that answer yourself." She rose from the log. "Maybe get some sleep first though. You could use some."

"I will, but I just need a bit more time out here…" He held the banjo out to her and smiled. "Better not leave without this."

Wiggle reached her hand out, but stopped midway. "Why don't you watch over it for me tonight?" She requested, and began her saunter back to her bed. "Leave it in my hut in the morning."

Jaythony gave a confused glance, but before he could muster a question, it was back to solitude. He stared at the oversized banjo as he anchored it back on his lap, then planted his fingers as Wiggle showed him before. He gave a few muted strums, wary not to awaken a sleepwalking Gramble or an impatient Wambus. The strings were scratchy and dissonant as he shifted from chord to chord, which disappointed him, but he managed to find solace in the fact that it made any noise at all.

thank you so much if you actually read this far, I've been out of the OC game for so long I forgot how fun it was to think about these things

#bugsnax oc #grumpus #grumpus oc #grumpsona #wiggle wigglebottom #not my art #i haven't done much creative writing in like 9 years can you tell #jaythony simmersound #bugsnax

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redux-pain · 1 year

Text

Chapter 11: Police Station 1

「…ちょっと、ちょっと」

物陰からアツキに声をかけてくる者がいる。野崎ミカだった。メロディも一緒だった。

”Ｗ－ｗａｉｔ，　ｗａｉｔ．．．”

Ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ　ｓｐｅａｋｓ　ｔｏ　Ａｔｓｕｋｉｆｒｏｍ　ａ　ｈｉｄｉｎｇ　ｓｐａｃｅ．　Ｉｔｉｓ　Ｍｉｋａ　Ｎｏｚａｋｉ．　Ｓｈｅｉｓ　ｗｉｔｈ　Ｍｅｌｏｄｙ．

[MIKA, offscreen:] "Psst. Hey."

/Someone called out to Atsuki from a hiding space. It was Nozaki Mika. Melody was with her too./

----

今日、絶対にやらなきゃならないことがあって、学校休むけど、

もし先生に聞かれたら、うまく言っておいてね、お願い。

Ｉ　ｇｏｔｔａ　ｈａｎｄｌｅ　ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ，　ｓｏＩ’ｍ　ｓｋｉｐｐｉｎｇ　ｓｃｈｏｏｌ　ｔｏｄａｙ．

Ｉｆ　ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ　ａｓｋｓ，　ｊｕｓｔｍａｋｅ　ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ　ｕｐ．

[MIKA:] I have something that absolutely needs to be done today, so I'm skipping school.

Hey, if a teacher asks, could you make up an excuse?

----

ナミちゃんの話じゃ、ソエジマ邸の殺人犯が警察の中にいるらしいの。

だから私とメロディで、ここを見張っているってわけ。

Ｎａｍｉ　ｓａｙｓ　ｔｈａｔ　ｔｈｅ　Ｓｏｅｊｉｍａｋｉｌｌｅｒ’ｓ　ａ　ｐｏｌｉｃｅｍａｎ！

Ｔｈａｔ’ｓ　ｗｈｙ　Ｍｅｌｏｄｙ　ａｎｄ　Ｉａｒｅ　ｓｔａｋｉｎｇ　ｔｈｉｓ　ｐｌａｃｅ　ｏｕｔ．

[MIKA:] Nami-chan says that the killer from Soejima Mansion is a police offier!

So Melody and I are staking this place out.

----

駅で見張っているナミちゃんと共同作戦ってとこ。

でもね……。

Ｎａｍｉ’ｓ　ｃｈｅｃｋｉｎｇ　ｏｕｔ　ｔｈｅｓｔａｔｉｏｎ　ｔｏｏ．　Ｗｅ’ｒｅ　ａ　ｔｅａｍ．

Ｂｕｔ．．．

[MIKA:] And Nami-chan's doing the same routine at the train station.

But...

----

正直まだ半信半疑なんだ。警察の中に犯人がいるなんてね。

だけど、あのナミちゃんが言うんだから何かあるんだと思う。

Ｉ’ｍ　ｓｔｉｌｌ　ｎｏｔ　ｓｕｒｅ　ｉｆ　Ｉｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ　ｉｔ　ｍｙｓｅｌｆ．

Ｂｕｔ　ｉｆ　Ｎａｍｉ　ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅｓ　ｉｔ．Ｉｔ　ｈａｓ　ｔｏ　ｈａｖｅ　ｓｕｂｓｔａｎｃｅ．

[MIKA:] Honestly, I'm not completely convinced yet. The killer is a police officer?

Still, there has to be something going on if Nami-chan says so.

----

犯人じゃなくても、きっと犯人につながる何かが……。

あっ、ヤバっ…… 誰か出てきた。

Ｅｖｅｎ　ｉｆ　ｉｔ’ｓ　ｎｏｔ　ｔｈｅ　ｋｉｌｌｅｒｈｅ’ｓ　ｓｏｍｅｈｏｗ　ｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｅｄ．

Ａｈ，　ｃｒａｐ！　Ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ’ｓｃｏｍｉｎｇ．

[MIKA:] Even if this isn't the killer, they must have something to do with him...

Uh-oh... someone's coming.

----

西条君、ごめん。私たち隠れておくからね。

それじゃ。

Ｓａｉｊｏ，　ｓｏｒｒｙ．　Ｗｅ　ｇｏｔｔａｈｉｄｅ！

Ｓｅｅ　ｙａ！

[MIKA:] Sorry, Saijou-kun. We've gotta hide!

See ya!

[MIKA and MELODY exit]

----

「安藤さんの御通夜は、　夕方からだったよな？」

「ああ、そうだな。　しかしなんであんな良い人が　死ななきゃならんのだ」

”Ａｎｄｏ’ｓ　ｖｉｇｉｌ　ｓｔａｒｔｓ　ｉｎｔｈｅ　ｅｖｅｎｉｎｇ，　ｒｉｇｈｔ？”

”Ｙｅａｈ．　Ｂｕｔ　ｗｈｙ’ｄ　ａｎｉｃｅ　ｇｕｙ　ｌｉｋｅ　ｔｈａｔｈａｖｅ　ｔｏ　ｄｉｅ？”

[COP 1, offscreen:] "Andou-san's wake is tonight, right?"

[COP 2, offscreen:] "Yeah. I don't get why a nice person like her had to die."

----

「俺たちも同じ気持ちだが、　山瀬さんなんか、　見ていられないよな」

「同期だったからな……。　それに親友だったし」

”Ｗｅ　ｆｅｅｌ　ｔｈａｔ　ｗａｙ，　ｂｕｔＭｓ．　Ｙａｍａｓｅ　ｃａｎ’ｔ　ｂｅａｒｔｏ　ｓｅｅ　ｈｉｍ．”

”Ｔｈｅｙ　ｇｒｅｗ　ｕｐ　ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ．　Ａｎｄｔｈｅｙ　ｗｅｒｅ　ｂｅｓｔ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ．”

[COP 1? offscreen:] "We're all agreed there. But what I can't stand is looking at Yamase-san."

[COP 2? offscreen:] "They joined the force together... and they were good friends too."

----

刑事らしき二人が、アツキのそばを通り過ぎていった。

どうやら彼らじゃなかったみたいね……。

Ｔｈｅ　ｔｗｏ　ｏｆｆｉｃｅｒｓ　ｐａｓｓｅｄ　ｂｙＡｔｓｕｋｉ　ａｓ　ｔｈｅｙ　ｌｅｆｔ．

Ｄｏｅｓｎ’ｔ　ｓｅｅｍ　ｌｉｋｅ　ｔｈｅｙ’ｒｅｔｈｅ　ｏｎｅｓ．．．

/Two people, apparently police officers, walked past Atsuki./

[MIKA and MELODY enter]

[MIKA:] Well, apparently it wasn't them...

----

もし犯人が出てきたら、メロディが知らせてくれるはず。

そうだよね、メロディ。

Ｉｆ　ｔｈｅ　ｃｒｉｍｉｎａｌ　ｐａｓｓｅｓ　ｂｙＭｅｌｏｄｙ　ｗｏｕｌｄ　ｋｎｏｗ　ｉｔ．

Ｒｉｇｈｔ　Ｍｅｌｏｄｙ？

[MIKA:] Melody would know if the culprit showed up.

Right, girl?

[MELODY barks]

----

そうだ、忘れていた……。

ナミちゃんがさ、言っていたんだけどね。

Ｏｈ，　Ｉ　ｆｏｒｇｏｔ．．．

Ｎａｍｉ　ｗａｓ　ｔｅｌｌｉｎｇ　ｍｅｅａｒｌｉｅｒ．．．

[MIKA:] Oh, right. I forgot.

Nami-chan was telling me earlier...

----

もし犯人を見つけたら、西条君に伝えてって……。

それって、どういう意味？

Ｓｈｅ　ｔｏｌｄ　ｍｅ　ｔｏ　ｔｅｌｌ　ｙｏｕ　ｉｆＩ　ｆｏｕｎｄ　ｔｈｅ　ｃｒｉｍｉｎａｌ．

Ｗｈａｔ’ｓ　ｔｈａｔ　ｍｅａｎ？

[MIKA:] That if I find the culprit, I should let you know.

What does mean?

----

ナミちゃんに聞いても、そう言えばわかるはず、だって。

匂いと鳥の目撃情報なんて、何の証拠にもならないのはわかるけど。

Ｉ　ａｓｋｅｄ　ｈｅｒ，　ｂｕｔ　ｓｈｅ　ｓａｉｄｉｆ　Ｉ　ｔｏｌｄ　ｙｏｕ，　ｙｏｕ’ｄ　ｇｅｔ　ｉｔ．

Ｉ　ｋｎｏｗ　ｓｃｅｎｔ　ａｎｄ　ｓｔｕｆｆｗｏｎ’ｔ　ｃｏｕｎｔ　ａｓ　ｐｒｏｏｆ，　ｂｕｔ．．

[MIKA:] I asked her about it, but she said if I told you, you'd know what to do.

I mean, I get that smells and birds don't exactly count as eyewitness testimony.

----

西条君。君もしかして……。

偉い政治家か誰かの知り合いでもいるんでしょ！？

Ｓａｉｊｏ，　ｙｏｕ．．．

Ｙｏｕ’ｖｅ　ｇｏｔ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ　ｗｈｏ　ａｒｅｐｏｌｉｔｉｃｉａｎｓ　ｏｒ　ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ？

[MIKA:] Saijou-kun. Do you...

...do you know some really powerful politicians?!

----

もしくは、ジャーナリストの知り合いでもいるはずよ

そうじゃないと、ナミちゃんがあんなこと言うわけないもん！

Ａｎｄ　ｙｏｕ’ｖｅ　ｇｏｔ　ｊｏｕｒｎａｌｉｓｔｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ　ｔｏｏ，　ｒｉｇｈｔ？

Ｉｆ　ｎｏｔ，　Ｎａｍｉ　ｗｏｕｌｄｎ’ｔ　ｈａｖｅｍｅｎｔｉｏｎｅｄ　ｔｈａｔ　ｓｔｕｆｆ．

[MIKA:] Or maybe you have some pro journalist friends, too!

Nami-chan wouldn't have said that otherwise.

----

……まあいいわ。

詳しいことは、また聞かせてもらうから覚悟しておいて。

．．．Ａｈ，　ｉｔ’ｓ　ｆｉｎｅ．

Ｉ’ｌｌ　ｇｅｔ　ｔｈｅ　ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ　ｆｒｏｍｙｏｕ　ｌａｔｅｒ，　ｓｏ　ｂｅ　ｐｒｅｐａｒｅｄ．

[MIKA:] ...Well, whatever.

I'll get the details from you later, so be prepared.

----

だからもし何かあったら、西条君の携帯に電話かけるね。

それじゃ、捜査に戻るね！

Ｉｆ　ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ　ｈａｐｐｅｎｓ，　Ｉ’ｌｌｃａｌｌ　ｙｏｕｒ　ｃｅｌｌ　ｐｈｏｎｅ．

Ｗｅｌｌ，　ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　ｗｏｒｋ！

[MIKA:] I'll call your cell phone if anything happens.

Well, back to investigating!

#chapter 11 #police station #nozaki mika #melody

3 notes · View notes

j-graysonlibrary · 9 months

Text

Fort Heaven Chapter 5

Title: Fort Heaven

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 69K

Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story. Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start. The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job. That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing. It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.

Full Chapter 5 under cut

Chapter 5

Linda Gallinger was in her fifties, a single mother, and an accountant for a local insurance agency. She was the first person to respond to Yasmine’s inquiries and she said she was willing to speak about her experiences in Fort Heaven. Even if her time there was short and she already warned that her stories wouldn’t be nearly as intense as some others that she’d heard, it would still be an interesting insight.

The best part was that Linda didn’t live far away from city limits and the road trip would only take two hours at the most.

“Did you look over my questions?” Yasmine asked Evon as they and Russet piled into the car. It was clear that she’d been up for a while already and had partaken in several cups of coffee—possibly an energy drink as well.

That usually meant she was nervous or even feeling insecure. It was a leap of faith, after all, and very understandable. The men, on the other hand, were both relaxed and positive which, for Evon, was normal but a bit surprising in Russet’s case.

“I did,” Evon answered her and started the engine. Since Yasmine wanted to continue looking over information and Russet was on camera duty, it was up to him to drive.

“Any comments? Suggestions? Additions?”

He could hear papers shuffling around behind him and he glanced in the rearview mirror to see his friend with a highlighter cap in her mouth as she scribbled with the pen.

“How much did you bring with you? Didn’t she say it would be a short interview?” Evon asked with a laugh. He had to focus back on the road though so he didn’t see her narrowed eyes pointed in his direction.

Russet, however, caught it on his camera. “Over enthusiastic, maybe?” He commented and he kept his camera on the woman in the backseat.

“Prepared,” she answered before sticking her tongue out at him. “Why are you filming already?”

“It’s a basic rule,” he answered, “always be filming when you can.”

Yasmine dropped it and looked back at Evon. “So? About my questions?”

Both men chuckled, much to her irritation. The coffee, perhaps, wasn’t such a good idea, she realized. It made her too anxious.

“They’re good,” Evon answered and before she could ask him if that was all he had to say, he continued, “I think they’re probably a lot of things no one has ever asked her before. Assuming anyone has even asked her about this topic before at all.”

“Probably not,” Russet said flatly and turned his camera to the driver. “What’s the number one thing you want to know from our interviewee?”

Evon glanced over and smiled before looking back to the road. He let out a small laugh before saying anything. “Um…I’m not sure?”

“There’s gotta be something,” the other man mentioned with a grin and leaned back against his seat. “How about this? Just talk about what you want in general from this project.”

“We’re doing a small video bit with an article,” Yasmine pointed out while giving him a questioning look, “not a documentary.”

“You never know,” he responded with a quick shot her way before returning to Evon.

“What are you suggesting?” Evon asked, still with a smile on his face. The mood was good and light but, best of all, Russet seemed to be in a great mood. He’d been worried the entire night before that the man would regret his decision the second the project actually began.

So far, they seemed to be on the same wavelength. Only Yasmine was off but he wagered that once all the caffeine was out of her system that she would be back to normal.

“You could get a lot of responses,” Russet replied. He lowered his camera onto the middle console but still had it aimed at Evon. “Or, better yet, an intense story from someone. Something that really blows the door open on this thing.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he said with a laugh.

It was quite bad, Yasmine thought, when Evon was the one speaking reasonably. She shook her head and leaned forward toward them.

“I think you’re just trying to catch your big break,” she mentioned with a smirk.

“Of course,” Russet answered with ease, “I’m always trying to find my destined piece of work. The thing that will put my name out there for good.”

“Hopefully not your Magnus opus.” Yasmine poked him in the arm but hardly received much of a response. It was a little disappointing but she couldn’t be too upset when the man was so interested in her best friend. She’d be irritated by the blatant ignorance if it weren’t so cute.

They certainly must have talked something out since there was no more strange energy between them. Thankfully, too, because she wouldn’t have been able to handle it, she thought with a silent laugh. Now she just wondered if anything else would come of it.

The rest of the car ride was filled with conversation outside of work which still would lead to bickering in some form or another. It was all playful but it seemed they couldn’t talk about anything without one of them starting an argument and, after a while, it was just funny.

Conversations faded in and out with sad attempts at car games between them and a lot of radio music. By the time they had arrived at Linda’s home, they were all almost talked out. A short period of preparation and decompression was mutually shared inside the car before any of them took a step outside.

Yasmine stretched while Evon helped Russet pull out the necessary equipment from the back. Most of it would have to be set up inside of Linda’s house so it would be carried in piece by piece.

“That everything?” he asked the expert camera man as he grabbed some cords. What they were for was beyond him but he could safely assume that it had something to do with the big camera.

“Yeah, that should be it,” Russet spoke in a soft voice, almost as if he didn’t want Yasmine to overhear. “Thanks.”

Evon struggled to say anything for a second but managed to get a few words out before it was embarrassing. “No problem…thanks for, you know, doing this.”

The older man smiled and slightly nodded which only made him feel more uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, that is, but in a way he probably shouldn’t feel as he was readying to get to work.

“Need help carrying all that?” Yasmine asked as she stepped backward to look at them. “You are taking a bit…”

“It’s a lot of pieces,” Evon explained quickly and grabbed a few other things that he could get his hands around.

Linda let them in and was both taken aback and excited by all of the camera equipment. Her nerves were clear but she tried to hide it by serving tea and cookies—both homemade by the look and smell.

She was a short woman, a bit round in all aspects down to her eyes that looked borderline cartoonish but in an endearing sort of way. Her clothes were simple but well put together since she knew she’d be on camera and her hair was curled—perhaps too intensely—but it was apparently how she liked it.

“Make yourselves at home,” Linda said before she took a seat in her chair. She scooted around and made sure to sit up straight.

“Oh, thank you,” Evon answered her first and sat down on the adjacent couch. Russet and Yasmine sat on either side of him.

There was a camera up and running on a tripod and it was set toward the middle of the room to capture all of them while Russet had a smaller hand held camera to film more personal shots.

“So you kids are journalists?” Linda asked with her hands folded on her lap.

“The two of us,” Evon responded and pointed to himself and Yasmine. Then he gestured to Russet, “He’s just our tech guy.”

She nodded and glanced around. Her eyes settled on the table with the tea and cookies. “Please,” she implored, “have some.”

Russet shrugged and grabbed a cookie while Evon and Yasmine both took a cup of tea. Though when Yasmine stopped to think about how much coffee she’d had earlier in the day, she slowly lowered the cup and placed it back on the table.

“So,” she began, “you said that you were a member of Fort Heaven for two years?”

Linda nodded again. “I first joined in ’95.”

“What would you say the initial appeal was?” Yasmine asked and leaned forward.

“I was in a weird place in life,” Linda explained, “My daughter and I weren’t on the best terms after my husband left and I felt lost. I started dating pretty soon after and one guy…a really great guy…told me about the church he went to and asked me to join him.”

After a brief pause, she went on. “I liked him and I have always been religious though not necessarily um…committed?” She laughed. “So it was something I was interested in and since this guy was so great then I figured that it must be a good church.”

“Well it must have impressed you for you to stay for two years,” Evon commented.

“It did,” Linda agreed. “In fact, it was pretty perfect at first. The members were all kind and accepting and it felt like a family community. I tried to get my daughter to come with me but she really hated me then.”

“Teenager?” Russet asked and grabbed another cookie, getting looks from both Evon and Yasmine.

Thankfully the older woman thought it was funny and had a good laugh. “Yes. She was.”

Yasmine’s eyes flicked back down to her questions. “Was there anything about the church that you found odd or not right while you were still enjoying your time there? You know, before you started thinking about leaving?”

Linda frowned and thought for a second. “I don’t know if I would say there was anything off putting. The atmosphere was just different than anywhere else I’d ever been. Honestly, I didn’t and sometimes still don’t understand why Fort Heaven is called a cult. It just seemed almost like a different denomination to me.”

“You mean no one forced you to stay when you started to consider leaving?” Evon asked. All he’d ever heard—as little information as it was—members weren’t exactly allowed to leave on good terms.

“Not quite,” she said with hesitation. “The issue came when people found out about my daughter. They wanted me to bring her so she could be saved too since it would benefit my family and my spiritual growth. Of course, my daughter did not like that.”

“She never went with you?” Evon tilted his head to the side.

“Nope. Not once.”

“And Fort Heaven didn’t like that, I assume,” Yasmine asked.

Linda shook her head and let out a dry laugh. “At first it was just frustration but when they could tell I wasn’t actively trying to recruit her anymore, their anger became directed at me. Even my boyfriend was avoiding me.” After a sigh she continued, “Eventually they gave me the ultimatum of them or my daughter.”

“They wanted you to abandon your kid?” Evon’s face dropped.

“Yes. They did. And they expected me to make that choice. When I chose my daughter over them, they all cut ties with me and I haven’t heard from them since.”

“Is that something that commonly happens?” Yasmine asked and then followed with, “And are there any other practices you saw or heard of that were strange or morally questionable.”

“Well…” Linda started and then looked to the side. “I’m not sure if it happened a lot since most members did have their entire families involved…and anything else I heard was just a rumor.”

“Even so, could you tell us the rumors you remember?” she pursued the question.

“And you won’t take it out of context later and make it seem like the church actually does these things, right?”

“No,” Evon answered immediately. “We promise.”

Linda smiled a little but she still seemed worried. Paranoid even.

“I heard a few times that there were promotion rituals within the church members and some of them involved sacrifices. It seemed a bit cloak and daggers to me so I never believed it.”

The three on the couch exchanged glances before Yasmine spoke again. “Are those all the details? Because it does seem a bit vague and made up.”

“Exactly.” Linda relaxed some. “I couldn’t imagine any member hurting anyone…even if they were emotionally and psychologically abusive. Physical abuse seems impossible to me.”

Her statement was a bit confusing but Yasmine continued with her questions until she finished the list and wrapped the interview up.

#fort heaven #my novel #my writing #writeblr #lgbt writers

0 notes

shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch.

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.”

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was.

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them.

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest.

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods.

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist.

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free.

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing.

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack.

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel.

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously.

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.”

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky.

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it.

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again.

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper.

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back.

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house.

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?”

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches.

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t.

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats.

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it.

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects.

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over.

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

the best interview ever ~ pete davidson

word count: 1745

request?: yes!

“I’d love for you to write something about Pete Davidson flirting with a journalism student who’s interviewing him and her just being all shy and stuff, just fluff!”

description: in which he finds the shy journalism student interviewing him extremely adorable

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

From the moment you walked in the room, Pete’s eyes were glued to you. You noticed him look you up and down when you walked in first and tried to hide your face so he wouldn’t see that you were blushing.

“Well hello,” he said. “Are you my interviewer?”

“I am! My name is (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

You sat across from him, hoping it wasn’t as obvious that you were shaking as it felt. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I feel like I should warn you that this is my first solo interview, so I’m sorry if it’s super awkward.”

“Are you telling me that I’m popping your interviewing cherry?” Pete asked.

You chuckled and nodded. “I’m actually still a journalism student. I’ve shadowed some interviews, but this is my first actual interview.”

“That’s awesome!”

You smiled as Pete raised a hand to you. You high fived him and felt any stress or nervousness you had slowly start to melt away.

Pete’s chill demeanor felt so much different than any of the interviews you had shadowed. Although, it wasn’t hard to be more chill than CEOs and local politicians, which were the only people you had encountered so far. Pete was the first actual celebrity you had met, which made you extra nervous, but so far he was doing a good job at easing your nerves.

Since this was your first solo interview, you had done a lot of research on Pete and his new movie to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself. You had two and a half pages in your notebook filled with questions to ask as well as little facts you felt like you should know. You hadn’t even done this much research for school projects, which was hot you knew you were serious about this.

Pete’s eyes glanced at your notebook as you opened it, a small smile crossing his face. “Damn, you’re already more prepared than most people who have interviewed me before.”

“Good,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. Pete gave you an amused look as you tried to stutter out a better response. “I-I Mean, personally, I hate watching interviews where the interviewer obviously hasn’t done their research, s-so I can’t imagine being interviewed by someone like-like that.”

“No, I respect it. I appreciate that.”

With that awkward encounter out of the way, you were able to actually start the interview.

It started off really well. You asked Pete about his new movie and any upcoming projects he had in the works. He told you about his work on SNL and his hope to film another stand up special soon. He was absolutely radiating happiness as he talked about his work, which made you extremely happy as well.

As the questions moved to be more personal, you came to learn more about Pete on a personal level. It went from feeling like an interviewer and their interviewee to feeling like two people who just met and who were getting to know one another.

You felt like you had gotten a hang of the interviewing thing, until Pete asked something that threw you off your groove. “So when do you ask me about my dating life?”

You had been looking down at your notebook when he asked, so your head snapped up so quickly that you almost made yourself dizzy, and your eyes were so wide that they were actually hurting a little. Pete laughed at the face you were making, and you could feel the embarrassment and nerves starting to come back.

“I-I...I wasn’t...” you stuttered, trying to figure out something to say. You never had any intentions of asking Pete about his dating life. It wasn’t relevant to the interview, so you weren’t going to bring it up.

“Damn, you’re really the best interviewer I’ve ever had,” Pete commented. “Most people go straight for the jugular on relationship questions. I’m still asked about an engagement that ended nearly two years ago. I respect that you had no intentions on bringing it up.”

You were so thrown off by the earlier question that even Pete’s reassurance that he was okay with you not asking wasn’t enough to get you back on track. You looked down at your notebook again, trying to remember what you had asked last but your mind felt empty. You were running out of time, you didn’t want to mess this up now.

Pete leaned forward and took your hands in his. You looked up at him and felt your breath catch in your throat upon realizing how close he was.

“Hey, I’m sorry I brought it up like that,” he said. “I really was just joking around. We were having fun and talking, I’m just used to that going south by being asked about my dating life because...well, you know who I was engaged to. I didn’t mean to startle you with the question.”

His voice was soft and it felt like you were seeing a completely different side of Pete, one you hadn’t even seen in movies or on SNL. Like it was a side of him he reserved for people closest to him, people that he cared about. You were shocked but also grateful that he felt like he could show you this side.

“I am single, by the way,” he added. “Just something I want you, personally, to know.”

He winked before he let go of your hands and sat back in his seat. Now you felt even more flustered, but for a different reason.

The rest of the interview went off without a hitch, and before you knew it, you were thanking Pete for his time and turning off your recording device. The crew came to take the microphone off the both of you.

“You’re my last interview of the day,” Pete said as the two of you stood from your seats. “I’m glad I got to end it on such a good note.”

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your face. “I’m glad I got to be such a positive ending.”

“Are you parked downstairs?” You nodded, a bit confused by his question. “Mind if I walk you down? I gotta wait for my ride back to the hotel anyways, might as well spend that time with someone.”

At a loss for words, you just nodded.

The two of you walked together to the elevator that would bring you down to the parking garage you had parked your car in. The crew was still busy taking down the equipment in the room, so just the two of you stepped into the elevator.

“You’re really good for someone who’s just a student,” Pete said as the doors closed. “You’re more professional than most interviewers I’ve had.”

“I don’t want to be like every other tabloid journalist that just wants the latest scoop,” you responded. “I know that gossip and drama sells, but I wanna be one of those journalists that gets to show the real side of celebrities, not just the bullshit you see in magazines or on websites.”

“You’re one of very few, (Y/N), I’ll give you that.”

You couldn’t help but smile as Pete said your name. It just felt right hearing it come from his lips. You wondered if you could make him say it again.

“I really am sorry for throwing you off with that relationship jab,” Pete continued. “I meant for it to be lighthearted, like a joke, but I realized after I said it that it did come out pretty harsh.”

“It wasn’t harsh,” you shrugged. “I was just a bit shocked. I hadn’t planned on asking you anything that would make you uncomfortable, so I hadn’t even entertained the idea of asking you relationship questions.”

“I appreciate that. I’m not a super private guy, but it gets hard to be in the public eye with a relationship when I’m just trying to move on and people bring up my past ones, or what they believe to be past ones.”

Before you could respond, the doors to the elevator opened. The two of you stepped out and walked through the nearly empty parking garage before arriving to your car. You paused and turned back to Pete. You didn’t want to go just yet. You had enjoyed getting to spend time with him, even if it were likely he just saw you as yet another interviewer and nothing more.

“Thanks for walking me to my car,” you said, lamely. You mentally kicked yourself for not saying something that actually warranted a response.

“No problem. Gotta make sure no one kidnaps you.”

You smiled at the joke. You toyed with the keys in your hand, trying to put off getting in the car as much as you could. Pete was hesitant to walk away as well, which gave you a little bit of hope as to where this was going.

“I meant what I said about being single, by the way,” Pete finally said. “Which is to say that I am...single.”

“I am, too,” you told him.

A smirk was tugging at the corner of his lips. “What should I do with that information then?”

“Well,” you started, “you’re single, I’m single. We just spent the day getting to know one another. Maybe we could extend that to a non-professional setting.”

The smile on Pete’s face was brighter than the sun. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually. How about tomorrow? We could go for a coffee, start small.”

“Sounds fantastic. Here.” You passed him your phone and watched him put his number into it.

It felt so much easier to get into your car then.

You watched Pete walk away through the rearview mirror, and once he was far enough away you did a dance in your seat to celebrate both a great interview and the date you had managed to score along the way.

You were just starting up your car when a text from an unknown number came into your phone.

“just making sure you gave me a real number ~ pete”

You smiled to yourself and sent a response. “nope, this is actually a chinese take out place that conveniently does text messages as well”

“well fuck, that’s the third time this has happened this week”

You giggled to yourself before putting your phone aside and driving back towards your home, feeling as though you were on cloud nine.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 20: Off Planet (Meeting the Justice League)

AO3

Marinette, in her Ladybird costume, looked at her older brother warily.

“Are you sure we’re not gonna get in trouble for this?” She asks, avoiding looking around too much. If she just keeps looking at Jason, she can have plausible deniability until he confirms that they’re allowed to be here. Because last she checked, she wasn’t even allowed on patrols. Let alone in the Watchtower.

“Tt. I would like to see Father try. He knows he is currently on Todd’s ‘list’.” Damian-er, Robin- says, crossing his arms and scowling. Marinette frowns. She didn’t want her brothers to fight with her dad because of her….but then again, she was still really hurt by her dad’s actions. And he still hadn’t apologized. Making up her mind, she lets out a quick sigh and glances around, jaw dropping slightly. It was amazing! And definitely worth the inevitable lecture they’d be getting when they got home.

“Robin, Red Hood.” A man’s voice catches her attention and she whirls around, grinning from ear to ear. Sure, she’d seen Superman on the computer, but now she was meeting him in person. In person! “And you are?” He adds, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I’m Ladybird. Nice to meet you in person.” She says with a wide grin.

“You don’t look anything like you did over video call.” He says, frowning at her as if she was a puzzle. She winces. Miraculous magic definitely didn’t cover her the last time she’d seen him. Scanning the look on his face, everything suddenly clicks. She thinks back to the Gala, how familiar Clark Kent had seemed. Well crap. Her dad’s best journalist friend was also his best superhero friend. Who'd've thought.

“Oh, uh, yeah- well, um. Lighting?” She stumbles out, avoiding the questioning look from her older brother.

“Right. Well, welcome to the tower. Is Batman around? I’ve been meaning to talk to him.” Superman says, though she guesses he’s only asking to try and get them to reveal where their dad is. He’d definitely be able to tell if Batman was here.

“Oh, would you look at the time, welp, gotta go.” Jason-Red Hood- says, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her away from Superman.

“How long do you think we have until he tells B?” She asks under her breath, ignoring the snort coming from where they left him.

“Not long. But, we definitely have enough time for you to meet a few more Leaguers before we’ve gotta get home.” Jason reassures her as they walk down the hall.

“What’re you kids doing here?” A man- Green Lantern- asks.

“Pissing off Bats.” Jason says simply. Green Lantern frowns.

“Is that a good idea?” He asks. “And who even is she?”

“Tt. She is not any of your concern. Neither is our appearance here. If you know what is good for you, you will keep it to yourself.” Damian says, Green Lantern immediately backing off.

“Christ, his kids are insane.” He mumbles before walking away. Jason keeps pushing them forward and Marinette is starting to think that he planned something besides a ‘random trip to the Watchtower to piss Bruce off’. They walk into a room and Marinette’s eyes widen, realizing it looks like some kind of meeting space. And Wonder Woman is seated at the table, seemingly preparing for a meeting. Oh no.

“What are the three of you doing here? You know-” She starts before turning all of her attention to Marinette.

“Uh…..hi?” She says with an awkward wave.

“You’re the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous.” Wonder Woman says and Marinette’s jaw drops.

“What!” Jason yells in surprise. Okay, so this wasn’t the plan.

“How do you know that?” Marinette asks, her mind running a million miles a minute. How did Wonder Woman know? Had she purposefully ignored the calls Marinette had originally made as Ladybug?

“My mother was a holder. I was under the impression that the Miraculous were no longer in circulation.” Wonder Woman says, a tense look on her face.

“I’ve been the holder for nearly two years.” Marinette says, tensing. She wasn’t going to try to take it from her, was she?

“I mean no offense, but you seem young.” Wonder Woman says cautiously.

“I’m older than Robin.” She says, ignoring her brother’s annoyed tut. Yeah, so he was trained from birth and she wasn’t, who cares. Didn’t mean she wasn’t able to protect her city. She’d do whatever she had to do to protect Paris. Whatever it takes.

---

Bruce was tired. More specifically, he was tired of fighting with his children. Neither Jason nor Damian would talk to him, Marinette kept avoiding eye contact, Tim was working on more cases. The only one who was talking to him was Dick, but even Dick was quieter than normal. He supposed it had something to do with the Gala, but that was days ago. He’d assumed that they would be over it by now, but no such luck. Instead, they were all avoiding him like the plague. Which meant he was alone in the manor for the first time in awhile. It was quiet. He hated it.

“You’ll never guess where two of your sons are.” Clark says, landing in front of him suddenly. Bruce resists the urge to sigh. Of course his sons were up to something.

“Were they masked?” Bruce asks as a quick way to narrow down their location.

“Yeah, and Ladybird was with them.” He says. Bruce’s jaw clenches. She wasn’t supposed to go on patrol with the boys. She could patrol in Paris and fight there, but the last time she fought here she was injured. Badly. She knew how he felt about her going out like that. Deciding to give up on the guessing game, Bruce pulls out his phone and quickly pulls up the app that has the trackers on it. He knew he’d be unable to track Marinette, as she was transformed, but all of his sons had trackers in their suits. Bruce thinks for a moment, thinking back to the past few days on who would be most likely to take Marinette on patrol somewhere. He purses his lips as he realizes one of the boys has to be Jason. Of course. Clicking on Jason’s name, he groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. He took her to the Watchtower. He glances at the dot next to Jason- Damian’s name blinking back at him. This couldn’t end well.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He grumbles, whirling around to stalk off to get in uniform. Time to go pick up his damn kids.

---

Jason had made many mistakes in his life. He was pretty sure this was one of them. He ducks as another chair is thrown across the room, an anger filled scream following it.

“Pix, you maybe wanna-” He tries to say, hoping to talk her down from throwing another chair. She’d already broken three.

“Diana says this is healthy!” Pixie says with a bright smile. He’s relieved for a moment, but it doesn’t last. Her face twists up as she screams again, throwing another chair. Jason ducks and it flies over him, shattering against the doorframe.

“What is going on here?” Batman’s gruff voice rings through the room and Jason watches as Marinette freezes. Okay, so this can go one of two- and another chair flies at their dad.

“Ladybug, that’s just Batman. Your rage is not at him, remember? It is at your old Master, and the wielder of the Peacock Miraculous.” Diana says, laying a hand on Mari’s shoulder. The younger girl scoffs, crossing her arms defiantly and Jason is momentarily thrown at how much she looks like Damian. Jesus.

“I know perfectly well who that is, Lady Diana. Please, excuse me, but I’m not particularly fond of him at the moment.” She snarks, and Jason is completely thrown. He’d known the kid was mad at Bruce, but she kinda sounded like...him. Well shit. That’s not the healthiest way to cope with anything.

“Pix.” He says quietly. She turns to him and all of the tension drops as she walks over to him, standing almost behind him. Almost as if he could shield her. Good job Bruce. You really fucked up this time.

“Ladybird, Robin, it’s time to leave.” B says, not even trying to boss Jason. He knew it wouldn’t turn out well for him.

“No.” Marinette says, and Jason snorts. The kid was definitely pushing buttons today.

“No?” B asks, his jaw clenched.

“No. I’ll leave when Hood does.” She says, jutting out her chin in defiance.

“No, you’ll leave when I tell you to. You’re not even supposed to be in uniform with the boys.” B snaps.

“Father, there is no reason for her to stay hidden away. You know as well as I that she is an accomplished hero on her own. Hood and I simply wanted to let her meet Wonder Woman. We believed that meeting her would be beneficial for Ladybird.” Demon Spawn cuts in, his stance matching Pixie’s. He was totally going to have to have Replacement look at the footage from his helmet later so he could frame this picture.

“I said it’s time to leave. I will be waiting outside of the Zeta tubes. If the two of you are not there in three minutes there will be consequences.” B snaps, turning and storming off.

“I will allow you to make the call. If you wish, we can stay here and we will face Father’s wrath together. Or we could leave and come back when he is not so….worked up.” Damian says, his scowl replaced with a more neutral look. Jason was honestly shocked at how well Demon Spawn got along with Marinette. Especially since she was a “blood child” and older than Damian. It was weird. Marinette leans up against Jason, and he swears his heart breaks. He could tell, despite the mask, that she was hurting.

“If you want, we can follow him back to Gotham and then head to one of my safe houses. Stay the night there, watch some movies, eat a shit ton of junk food.” Jason suggests with a grin.

“Really?” She asks, looking up at him. He nods, ruffling her hair.

“Sure thing, kiddo. Trust me, I know B can be a lot.” He says. He glances up as Diana clears her throat.

“Ladybug, I’ll be in contact. But the time limit set by Batman is quickly dwindling. I suggest leaving now to avoid any altercations.” She says and Jason nods, tugging his emotionally stunted little brother along with his emotionally distressed little sisters. One of these days Bruce was gonna fuck up bad enough that not even Jason could fix it.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

#mbdbwm2021 #maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat marinette dupain cheng is ladybird #maribat damian wayne #maribat jason todd #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette #maribat fanfiction #maribat fanfic #ao3fic #maribat clark kent #day twenty meeting the justice league

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argylemnwrites · 3 years

Text

Fight or Flight - Chapter 15: Hiccup

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4300

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: Almost four weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: And we’re back! Since it’s been ages... Previously on Fight or Flight - Hana had learned that Barthelemy and Godfrey were working with Auvernal from Kiara, but Liam didn’t seem motivated to take much action regarding that fact. Leo had gotten money and belongings to Riley, who shared an intimate moment with Drake when she returned to their hotel.

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Liam let out a sigh as he changed the channel back to CBC. He needed to be actively watching, probably should be taking notes, in all honesty. This hour of programming consisted of discussion with three of the most connected political pundits in the country. It was the easiest and most reliable way to get a feel for the leanings of both the journalists and the common citizens, and it aired every weekday, so it was far more up to date than waiting for the biweekly polling.

The issue was that the panelists were revelling in the recent turn of events with such glee. It was understandable, he supposed. This was the most exciting political turn of events this country had seen in centuries. It put the mild speculation that he was Bridget’s biological father, a rumor had surfaced around the time of his announcement that Drake and Riley’s child would be heir and had briefly flared again at Bridget’s first public appearance when people had seen that she indeed looked like a child with some East Asian heritage, to shame. This wasn’t just baseless gossip and stirring the pot to increase ratings. This was true turmoil, plain and simple. There was a relative unknown carrying the power of the Crown, the current Queen-regent had been “kidnapped” and not seen in weeks, citizens were protesting daily, and this was all expected to last for months until the Conclave, where all the tension and drama would culminate in a vote among the five major noble houses to name a new monarch. The journalists and talking heads had a seemingly endless feast in front of them. All of it at his expense.

He took another sip of his scotch as he tried to focus on the screen ahead of him. If he could figure out how to gain a majority of the public’s support, then he could apply some pressure to Kiara and Landon prior to the Conclave vote. Not that he was naive enough to think that would be enough to assure that he would regain his title, but at least it would be one more piece of ammunition in his arsenal.

“The protests outside of the Capital aren’t going to be as easily quieted as the ones in Valtoria, Victor,” Francine Giorano stated, leaning forward and gesturing across the table to Victor Blussé. Blussé was the moderate on the panel, while Giorano was a staunch traditionalist. “They have had fears about the role the essentially-American Walkers played in our government for years, and look how right those fears turned out to be.”

“How is any of this the Walkers’ fault, Francine? This can all be traced to Barthelemy Beaumont!”

“The Conventus Nobilis was written into our foundational laws for a reason, Victor,” chimed in Willa Hyllop, the final member of the panel, added to the program in the past year to bring in a more modern, pro-democratic viewpoint.

“Surely you aren’t saying you are on the side of Beaumont, Willa! He represents an even less progressive faction than Liam Rys ever did.”

“I may not agree with everything he stands for, but I will always support measures that place some checks and accountability on our monarchy,” said Hyllop with a shrug. “Besides, the fact that Rys surrounded himself with yes-men and granted titles and appointments on the basis of friendship since he ascended the throne did little to convince me that he was the ‘progressive king’ he swore he was. He was more of the same, just without the aggressive rhetoric of his father.”

“And look how that turned out! Lest we forget, he stood by while Auvernal brought warships to our shore last year,” added Giorano.

Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Giorano and Hyllop were never on the same page about anything, and here they were, agreeing that he had been an ineffectual king. He tuned out Blussé’s response, knowing that some lukewarm rebuttal from him was going to do little to bolster his confidence. The fact was simple - his fall from grace was widespread. There were few left who saw him as worthy of the title of king. He had failed, completely and entirely.

“Liam?” Olivia’s voice cut over the television.

Liam opened his eyes to find her staring at him from the lounge’s doorway, a frown cutting across her face. He forced a smile as he gestured for her to join him. “Just taking a little break from hearing how incompetent I am.”

Olivia’s green eyes narrowed at his poor attempt at humor, but she strode over to him, joining him on the couch, undoubtedly taking in the blank notepad, the untouched stacks of documents, and the glass of liquor that sat on the table in front of him. “Well, that’s the perception we’re going to have to work to change.”

He tipped his head to rest along the back of the couch, sighing as he did so. “I know, Liv. It just seems so impossible at the moment.”

She didn’t say anything for several excruciating seconds. He rolled his head to the side, taking in her face, concerned eyes boring into him as she slid a hand around her neck, her blood-red nails digging into her skin. “We’ve got months still, Liam. Calling our goal impossible is premature.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, and I’m all ears if you have any recommendations for where to start.”

“Well, I got confirmation that Landon and Emmeline’s driver is loyal to us, so Ray is going to approach him at the Derby this weekend to see if he might be willing to earn a little extra cash by divulging some secrets. And their new head of kitchen has a brother with significant gambling debts, so that’s another lead worth pursuing.”

“Sounds good, Olivia.”

“Now, as far as next steps for you, I was hoping you might give reporters a few minutes for questions before the derby.”

Liam swallowed, his brain scrambling to come up with a reason, any reason, against her suggestion, when his phone vibrated on the table, the name “Bastien” flashing across the screen.

“Why is he calling you?” Olivia asked. All Liam could do was shrug as he leaned forward, grabbing his phone and swiping to accept the call.

“Bastien?”

“I don’t have long,” he started, not even taking the time for a greeting. “I don’t know if you are in touch with Drake, but if you are, you need to let him know that they need to get out of Athens.”

“What are you-”

“Rashad is negotiating with Greek authorities right now to allow the King’s Guard to be the ones to make the arrest. We are waiting on the tarmac for clearance to fly to Athens.”

“How-”

“He’s requesting Greek surveillance of their hotel until we get there. They need to leave now.”

“Bastien, what-”

“I have to go.” And then, the line was dead.

Liam sat there, numb and frozen, trying to process the slew of information that had just been dumped into his lap by his former head of security.

“What the hell is going on?” Olivia’s voice drew him out of his daze, prompting him to set down his phone on the couch, digging frantically through the stacks of papers.

“I need my burner.” He heard his voice as if he were an outsider observer. It was thin and shaky, frail and panicked. His hands shook as he felt around the table in front of him, knocking over a pile containing reproductions of the accounts of the last Conclave, dozens of papers spilling onto the floor.

“Liam, what the fuck did he tell you?”

“They know where they are. We have to warn them.” All his frustrations and pain related to Drake and Riley suddenly felt so petty, so ridiculous. The stakes were higher for them, always had been higher for them. They were about to get arrested over wanting to keep custody of their daughter. And while they left him to fend for himself, left Cordonia in a state of political upheaval, he knew that was a price that was wildly unfair.

“Who knows where they are? Rashad?”

“Yes,” said Liam, shoving more and more documents around the table. Where was his burner?

“How does he know?”

“I don’t know! Where the fuck is it?” Liam swiped his arm across the table, books and papers flying, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the room as his scotch tumbled to the ground.

A strong set of fingers with sharp red nails slid around his wrist, holding him still. He took a rough breath as he turned to face Olivia, who was eyeing him as she tugged her own burner out of her pocket, only breaking his gaze to glance down at the screen, tapping three times before holding it to her ear and looking back at Liam.

The few seconds of silence on her end were maddening, but then she was speaking, her voice curt and all business. “Drake, authorities are coming. You gotta go. Now.”

Liam tried to rein in his rapid breathing, tried to calm his heart rate down to something more human. “The King’s Guard is flying into Athens. They are leaving now. Rashad asked for Greek surveillance until-” but Olivia nodded at him, cutting him off.

“I don’t know how. But your hotel is about to be under Greek surveillance until the King’s Guard arrives, so you guys have to get moving. Good luck.” She hung up at that, letting out a massive sigh. “Shit,” she breathed out after a few seconds, her eyes bouncing back and forth before she slammed them shut, clearly planning and preparing.

Liam felt her fingers trembling around his wrist for just a second, but then she let go. She pushed herself off the couch with a flourish. “Find your burner. I’m gonna make some calls, but we need to destroy any evidence that we were in contact with them,” she said, nearly jogging towards the door.

“Olivia…”

She spun around and let out a little breath before walking back towards the couch. Her hand settled on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze as she gave him a nod. “We warned them as soon as we could, but we need to be the ones worried about the big picture right now. And things will only be worse for them if you and I are arrested, right?”

All he could do was nod. She was 100 percent correct.

“Okay, so find your burner. I’ll be back in a little bit, Liam.” And with that, she was off, a woman on a mission, leaving him sitting there, shaking on the couch, just trying to find his footing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hana shook hands with the final citizen, a woman in her late 40s who had been born and raised in Valtoria.

“Thank you so much, Your Grace,” she said, smiling as she returned the handshake.

“Of course. Just because our country is going through a period of transition doesn’t mean that I am going to ignore the needs of Valtoria’s citizens.”

The woman thanked her again before turning and exiting the formal dining room, the location Hana had chosen for the first Citizen Open Forum she’d scheduled. The large table provided ample seating, but the room was close enough to the main entrance to make it unlikely that anyone could wander into private areas of the estate without being caught by staff.

Olivia had been irritated when Hana had told her she was opening up the estate to the public. “You are giving Barthelemy’s people free access,” she told her. But Hana knew that she couldn’t just sidestep her duties as a duchess. Not only would that weaken people’s perception of Liam by association, but morally she just couldn’t do that. The country was in such turmoil because of a few members of the nobility trying to wrest power from some other nobles. For her citizens to be left neglected due to the whims of the highly privileged was ethically something she couldn’t allow to happen. So she’d hosted the forum, hearing directly from Valtoria’s residents what she should prioritize to improve their lives, but made sure to instruct her staff to notify her immediately if anyone was caught wandering too far from the dining room or bathroom. It was the best she felt she could do under the circumstances.

However, the last citizen had now vacated the estate, and Hana couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. It had gone well, she thought. She had clear budgetary priorities to request at the upcoming meeting between the social season’s derby and the stop in Lythikos. Plus, one of the leaders of the protesters in front of the estate had come, and conversation with him had been productive. Obviously, she couldn’t outright tell him that she wished she could be right out there with them, carrying a sign that said “She’s their kid,” but he had given her a knowing smile when she told him she saw no reason to intervene when Cordonia citizens were just exercising a right to free speech. He had all but promised her that the protests would stay peaceful and would not target her for her assumption of the role of Duchess of Valtoria.

As she wandered into the kitchen to make herself some tea, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She turned on the tap to fill the kettle with one hand as she moved to answer the call with the other.

“Olivia, how are you?” she asked, watching the kettle fill.

“Do you not answer your phone anymore?”

Hana frowned, pulling the phone away from her ear and swiping the screen. “I don’t have any missed calls, Olivia.”

“Not this phone. I’ve called you no less than ten times.”

She turned off the tap and set the full kettle on the counter, a nagging thread of anxiety and fear worming its way into her heart with that statement. “What’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news.”

Hana spun around, finding the remote laying on the island and turning on the television mounted in the eat-in nook.

“-these exclusively obtained photos show a woman who appears to be the former duchess, Riley Walker, conversing with the former Crown Prince, Leo Rys, at a bar in Athens.”

The screen filled with a low-quality image, clearly zoomed in several times. The lighting was a sort of orange color, and the faces were grainy and fuzzy, but there was Riley, although her hair was clearly dyed a much lighter color. Leo’s face was only seen in profile, not as identifiable, but he was obviously talking to her. The screen changed to a new photo, Leo a bit more recognizable in this one, passing Riley something.

“Oh no,” said Hana, leaning against the counter.

“-clear evidence of collusion between the former Crown Prince and Riley Walker, who has been charged with treason and kidnapping of the monarch,” the anchor droned on, but Olivia’s response drowned out the quiet volume of the television.

“Yeah, that’s an understatement. So what was so pressing that you were ignoring your burner?”

“I had the forum with the citizens, and I thought if I was carrying two cell phones, that might-”

A massive groan from Olivia cut her off. “Whatever. Well, you need to destroy your burner. Now.”

“But what about Riley and-”

“I warned them. Hopefully they are able to get out of Athens, but nothing else we can do there. It’s time to protect ourselves.”

“Olivia, what-”

“I gotta go check on Liam. Destroy the phone, Hana. And don’t call me.”

“Why can’t I-”

“-Liam is definitely going to be questioned since Leo is now known to be involved. We can talk at the derby, but if they start monitoring our phone records, I don’t want to give them any reason to think we are scheming.”

Before Hana could as much as tell Olivia she understood, she heard the line click dead. Taking a few seconds for some calming breaths, she centered herself before she climbed the stairs to her quarters, a pit of dread cementing itself firmly in her stomach with each step. She reached her room and opened the top drawer of her dresser, pulling the burner phone out from underneath her nylons. Sure enough, she had dozens of missed notifications from Olivia, and a couple from Maxwell as well. Well, she knew what those were regarding. No need to deal with them at this point. Instead, she walked over to her dressing table and grabbed her manicure kit.

She wandered down the hallway towards the lounge, taking in the quiet and calm. It was odd; the estate probably had more people in it currently than it had for most of the time Riley and Drake had lived there. Hana didn’t feel compelled to aggressively minimize the staff presence like they had, far more used to having employees around from her upbringing. But staff were expected to be as discreet and silent as possible, to make themselves scarce, particularly in the private quarters.

No one had ever called Riley quiet. There was a certain vibrancy she brought to any room, and her voice and laughter were always echoing through the halls. And even though Drake wasn’t the most talkative, he certainly would quip, snark, and joke in the privacy of his own home. Of course, once Bridget was born, there was more noise and energy and life than ever before. Now, it was just Hana and the corgis. The estate felt hollow and soulless.

Once in the lounge, Hana shut the door behind her firmly. Anderson glanced up, but quickly draped his head back over Vera, all the dogs curled up on their giant cushion in the corner. Hana knew that the maids had cleaned the lounge yesterday, so she was unlikely to be found there. She sat down in one of the armchairs, and pried the cover off the back of her phone using her cuticle pusher. All the electronic components stared up at her, ready for her to do her worst. But before she could bring herself to kill the only connection she had to her best friend, she flipped the phone over and sent one last message to Riley.

I love you all. Stay safe. I’ll find a way to get in touch when I can.

Letting out a sigh, she turned the phone back over. She spent the next 15 minutes prying off motherboards and any chips and cards she could find, dropping them one by one into her container of acetone nail polish remover. Then, she removed the battery before placing the remaining elements into the fireplace. She would just have to store the battery under her floorboards until she could figure out how to safely dispose of it.

She started a fire, then curled up on the couch, tugging a quilt over her lap as she watched her only connection to the first person to show her unconditional love melt and warp, eventually turning to ash. Tears started trailing down her cheeks, dripping onto her blouse and the quilt, but she didn’t care. She was devastated - for herself, for her found family, and for her country. At some point, Anderson jumped up to join her, nestling in against her legs.

“I miss them so much,” she said, dropping a hand to the top of his head. “So, so much.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bridget was wailing in her crib, but Riley didn’t have time to calm her. She needed to pack. Now.

When Drake had called her, she knew something bad was happening. He’d left with their passports this afternoon to take them to a cousin of a friend of someone Drake had met at the restaurant, someone who was supposed to be able to help with fake documents and forgeries. The plan had been to change their names and their country of origin, allowing them to catch a flight to the States without getting stopped at the airport. The final destination once there hadn’t been decided. Drake had wanted to go to Texas, but Leona’s presence scared Riley. She had already sold out their safety for a quick payday once before.

But that debate was a moot point now. So was the uncertainty about this unknown forger on whom they were relying. Drake had called, frantic and alarmed, clearly running and somewhat out of breath as he spoke to her. Telling her Olivia had called to warn them they were about to be arrested. Telling her to pack. Telling her they needed to run.

So Bridget was unceremoniously dumped into her travel crib as Riley tried to shove everything into the duffel bags from Leo. She knew she should leave the impractical things, like the framed photos, but those would incriminate their friends. So they had to come with. Toiletries seemed essential, too. Some of the clothes were going to have to get left behind. Some of the toys as well. She had to be able to carry everything in one trip. She had to get to the car as quickly as possible.

She knew it had probably been less than five minutes since Drake had called, but it felt like she was moving too slowly, taking way too long. Drake hadn’t given her any sort of time frame. Who knew if Olivia had even given him one. But for all she knew, police were rounding the corner, waiting for her in the hallway, about to burst through the hotel door. So she shoved and crammed and squeezed everything she could into the duffel bags and the diaper bag. Those would go over her shoulders, the crib would collapse and go in one arm, Bridget in the other. That would have to be good enough.

Once she was sure that the bags were as full as they could be, she pulled Bridget out, placing her on the floor as she scrambled to collapse the crib, fumbling with the locking mechanism for just a few seconds before it folded in on itself, allowing her to tuck it into her elbow. By some mad miracle, Bridget was hanging close by, not trying to crawl away to explore and cause trouble. Maybe she was frightened by the way Riley was acting. Regardless, it was a blessing.

Knowing she was as ready as she was going to be, she loaded everything up and grabbed Bridget, pausing just briefly to juggle their possessions as she opened the door. She didn’t bother closing it behind her, just moved as quickly as she could with her load down the hallway, down the stairs, through the lobby, and around the corner to the street where their car was parked. No one tried to stop her or talk to her, so she took the time to toss everything on the ground and properly latch Bridget into her car seat. Then, she threw everything in the hatchback before climbing into the passenger’s seat and locking the doors behind her. Bridget continued to cry, but there was little Riley could do to comfort her at this point. All that was left to do was wait for Drake.

Drake had told her to meet him in the car, but she didn’t like feeling exposed, sitting where anyone could see her during broad daylight. Add to that the fact that she was in the passenger seat, so she wouldn’t even be able to make a quick getaway if need be. Her piss-poor driving skills were just one more area where she was making their life harder, but there was no way to fix that right now. All she could do was hang tight. She was contemplating what in the car she could use as a weapon if it came down to it when her phone buzzed. She swiped to answer instantly when she saw it was Drake’s number.

“Drake, where are you?”

“Around the corner from the hotel. You in the car?”

“Yeah. How did-” but before she could get her question out, she saw Drake through the driver’s side window. She let out a little yelp of surprise before reaching over and unlocking the door, handing him the keys as soon as he sat down.

He didn’t even bother to say anything, just started the car and eased off the clutch as he shifted into first gear, pulling out onto the road. Bridget quieted soon after they got moving, but Riley didn’t feel any better as the yelling and screaming subsided. She just stared at Drake, one hand braced on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift, his neck and shoulders so tense and coiled, he looked ready to burst.

“Where are we going?” she finally chanced asking.

Drake shook his head, never taking his eyes off the road. “I don’t know. Out of Athens.”

“Then why are we making so many turns?”

“Don’t know if we were being watched or followed. Gotta lose anyone who might be tailing us.” His voice was clipped and frayed. He sounded about five seconds away from losing it completely. Riley wanted to hold his hand, to comfort him in some way. But she didn’t want to distract him, both from driving and from the tiny amount of control he had over his emotional response to everything that was unfolding. After all, they weren’t safe yet. So she just nodded and grabbed her phone off her lap.

“I’ll pull up some maps, okay?”

He nodded and let out a rough breath at that. “Thanks, Walker,” he said before flipping on the radio. “Can you try and find us a news station?”

“Drake, I won’t-”

“I’ll translate.”

And so they were off, unsure where or how far they needed to go to be safe. All they could do at this point was keep moving forward.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake

FoF: @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby

#drake walker #drake x mc #trh au fanfic #trh au #trh fanfic #king liam #olivia nevrakis #hana lee #choices fanfiction

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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The crossover fic + learning he's a favorite of yours has me curious: do you think it would be possible to tell a satisfactory Shadow vs. Mr. Mxyzptlk story? I think he'd fit surprisingly well in that milieu as a credible threat: he's something of an older, mistier, shadowy world, kin to fairies and elves and imps, pixies and sprites and genies, bound by old laws and dressed like a parody of 20s/30s class, beyond The Shadow's usual powers and yet...THAT. There a thematic in to this throwdown?

I had never actually thought of Mxy in that light, even though it's very much in line with what he is, because Mxy is one of those characters I don't tend to think about much. He's one of those ready-made perfect villains who pretty much guarantees a fun and creative time whenever he pops up uninvented. Like The Ventriloquist for Batman, he is so uniquely a product of how Superman works and what his stories allow for, that I can't say I ever thought of taking him for a spin outside of them. But there's definitely stuff to work with in putting him and The Shadow together.

Come to think of it, if there's a Superman villain I think Walter Gibson would have liked to play around with, it would be Mxyzptlk. Mxy stories are fundamentally about Superman being thrust into a position where his only way out is to solve puzzles and turn the tables using nothing but his wits, and Gibson spent the majority of his career before and after The Shadow as a writer of books on magic and puzzles, both of which show up a lot in The Shadow stories. You see it even in several covers which contained clues for the stories within.

To an extent, you could argue that The Shadow might figure out quicker a way to trick Mxy, because The Shadow's already has to utilize a constant amount of trickery and deceit and puzzle-solving in his daily adventures, it comprises almost the majority of what his stories are about under Gibson. The usual Mxyzptlk narrative is one that's well within The Shadow's domain.

But on the other hand, it's definitely some extremely unusual territory for The Shadow, villain-wise. A villain who eclipses his powers and scope to such an extent is completely unheard of. The one time I can think of where he fought a villain this weird and who he was completely powerless against was when he met Suven The Clown King of Venus (who's definitely a character that could show up in this meeting), and even then Suven was just a weird alien who looked gigantic next to the shrunken Shadow. Even on the few occasions where The Shadow encountered other aliens or eldritch monsters, he was able to find a way to stop the threat for the moment or even kill it, which is definitely not happening here, because Mxy is a whole other level.

Superman has the strength and endurance and superpowers to roll with whatever mayhem Mxy throws his way. If Mxy decides that The Shadow’s looking too pale so he's gonna give him a tan by throwing him in the sun, what the hell is he gonna do to stop him? I imagine that Mxy would likely take a different approach to messing with The Shadow, since he can't tank nukes like Supes and he's not really a good sport about the game.

Fine, whatever, Mxy's a creative sort, he's got a couple of ideas for messing around with Mr Grim-n-Serious over there, show him what an Eldritch Monster looks like past the squid monsters and dragons he may have met.

The idea I'm getting here is, on one hand, Mxy attacking The Shadow with the usual goofiness he brings with him. And on the other, him realizing that messing with The Shadow's dignity isn't as fun as he thought he'd be, so he instead goes full SCP Foundation/Awful Hospital/Ice Cream Man on The Shadow until he's stopped, trapping him in amusing and horrifying eldritch nightmares and situations that he has absolutely no way to escape until he solves the puzzle.

I mean, he's not fighting Superman here, he can kill this guy with a blink, even just stopping his heart with a thought. No fun in that. He's gotta beat the "Master of Darkness" at his own game. He's got a point to prove.

I imagine that much of the story would play out of The Shadow having to piece together what exactly has gone topsy-turvy in his reality, whether it's Commissioner Weston eating spiders for breakfest or the entirety of Manhattan sans him going blind and all lights going out across the country. And when Mxy comes out with that shrill SURPROISE!!!, assuming The Shadow already knows what he needs to do, then he falls for whatever gambit The Shadow's had to cook up to trick him.

At the end, Mxy is an arrogant bully who lords power over those that can't fight back, and The Shadow's a master of beating those by turning their arrogance against them. It's Duck Amuck, except Bugs is a mind-breaking sadist and Daffy has to fight back.

I imagine something akin to a particularly funny scene from a story called Face of Doom, where a gangster traps The Shadow in a room surrounded by armed henchman so he can enlist him into taking down the city's leading criminal, The Face. The Shadow unmasks himself as Cranston to gain his trust, and the two proceed to talk plans. I'll post the sequence below

Calmly, The Shadow was removing his slouch hat. His arms spread, the black cloak began to drop from his shoulders. Clipper's nervousness changed to elation. If ever a criminal fooled himself, Clipper did so at that moment.

Though The Shadow voiced no agreement to Clipper's offer, the crook was confident that it was sealed. The Shadow was taking a step that no other criminal had ever witnessed.

When Clipper's squinty eyes saw the hawkish features of Lamont Cranston, the crook displayed another of his downward grins. There wasn't any question about the prisoner really being The Shadow.

"A ritzy mug, ain't you?" voiced Clipper. "Well, that makes you the real McCoy. One thing we'd all figured, Shadow — we guessed you was a high-hat guy.

"'You don't get out of here until The Face is croaked! Say, though — maybe one of your ritzy friends could put up a good front with The Face."

"There are others, who might serve. I have agents, you know."

A shrewd gleam brought new ugliness to Clipper's eyes. He had heard of The Shadow's agents. It would be smart stuff—using them to get The Face, then disposing of them afterward. Clipper couldn't hide the eagerness that betrayed his new scheme.

"Good stuff," agreed Clipper. "But how am I going to reach those guys and get them to work with me? They only take orders from you, don't they?"

In reply, Clipper saw Cranston pick up the black cloak and hat. He handed the garments to the crook. For the moment, Clipper was puzzled; then he saw Cranston's hand extend the discarded gloves.

"I get it," chuckled Clipper. "You want me to rig up like I was you. Then the guys that work for you will listen to me. How do you handle them—with some password?"

"Usually," replied The Shadow. "Try on the cloak and hat first, Clipper. I must study the appearance that you make."

It seemed like a give-away of The Shadow's game. Any one could stage this Shadow stuff. All he had to do was masquerade in black, spring a shivery laugh, and shoot quick with his guns. If Cranston could pull it, Clipper could.

The Shadow spends a couple of paragraphs calmly walking Clipper through the steps necessary to pull off a convincing Shadow performance, almost like he's directing him. And then this happens:

The back of Clipper's neck was exposed. Though The Shadow's voice was still the leisurely tone of Cranston, his left hand had lost its laziness. Behind Clipper's back, that fist whipped an automatic from a shoulder holster. Clipper didn't scent the move until the muzzle of the .45 iced his neck.

"It won't work, Shadow," rasped Clipper. "You know it as well as I do! One pop from that gat of yours, the mob will pile in and croak you! There's a wicket in that door; they'll use it!"

The Shadow had shifted low behind Clipper's back. The crook could no longer observe the reflection of Cranston's face. He could still feel the pressure of the gun muzzle on his flesh. "Climb off my neck, Shadow," warned Clipper. "It ain't getting you nowhere!"

It was getting The Shadow further than Clipper guessed. The gun muzzle was actually gone from Clipper's neck. His impression that it rested there was merely an after effect, from former pressure.

Crouched low, The Shadow had now reached the door. Before Clipper guessed what was up, The Shadow twisted the door knob. Wrenching the door inward, he pulled himself behind it.

At the same moment, The Shadow snapped a quick command, in a rasp that resembled Clipper's own harsh tone:

"The Shadow's yours, gang! Croak him!"

It ends for Clipper about as well as you'd expect.

One of the things I like most about Mxy is that you can't take shortcuts with him. It's not like how it is with Riddler stories, where you can half-ass the riddles because you know Batman's gonna win once he touches Riddler and the story's gonna end in a punch-up, Mxyzptlk is completely invincible unless you solve the puzzle he presents, and you'd think of course that, surely, he can't fall for it this time.

He's a wise guy, see, he's seen all of Superman's tricks by now, and what's that dumb old Shadow gonna do that he can't see a mile away? This is almost too easy.

It's so easy, in fact, that The Shadow even agrees, he's lost it completely, and the way he could possibly beat Mxyzptlk is by calling one of his agents to save him, and he's prepared a list of some of his smartest, cleverest agents for this moment. But, no, he wouldn't dare put them in such danger against this invincible, immortal genius, someone has to take this list from him and run, but ZOINKS, Mxy's taken the list. So he's gonna start seeing who is it that the Shadda thinks is smart enough to take him.

Clyde BurKe? Like some dimestore journalist's gonna have a shot, just cause he solves crossword puzzles. Lamont Cranston, yeah, more like, LAMEONT CRANSTON. Harry VincenT, who, the dumb kid who tried jumping off a bridge once? Come on, you gotta give me a hand here, Shadda! Let's see, Pietro, what, some cook? Ya kidding? Moe ShrevnitZ...actually, Shrevy's allright, scratch that one. ShrevY, hey, come on, that's cheating, ya just put Shrevnitz's name again, ya dum-dum. Mr Xanadu, hmm, catchy name but probably not a real guy. And Margo Lane. Yeah, smart dame that one, she could probably figger something out. And ya keep writing everyone's name's weird - WAIT

I KNOW WHAT YER TRYING TO DO HERE.

I KNOW YOU GOT SOME CLEVER SCHEME HERE, I'D SEEN THIS BEFORE, IT'S AN OLD TRICK.

YOU EMPHASIZED THE LETTERS SO THE REAL SMARTEST GUY YOU KNOW WOULD BE HIDDEN WITHIN THEM, SO THAT SOMEONE ELSE COULD FIND HIM.

HAH, THAT'S RICH. THAT'S KID'S PLAY. WHAT, YOU THINK I CAN'T FIND THIS

KLTPZYXM

BY MYSELF?

aw crickets...

#replies tag #superman #the shadow #mr mxyzptlk #dc comics #comic books #pulp heroes #bogleech

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snakxreader · 6 months

Note

ANOTHER ONE!

overworked journalist that Wammy forces to get some rest and gets them to fall asleep “like a dad figure”

I find asking this one quite ironic since like you know, the wammy ask from before, Triffanny has it

G O O D

A/N: DADBUS ASKS REALLL!!! I love doing parental asks, please gimme more/hj

Pretty fun to do, mildy based off personally experience/hj, I hope you enjoy!

Wambus and Journalist (Take a Break)

With every passing minute, their body felt like it was going to give way from exhaustion. But it wasn’t like they weren’t used to that feeling, so they did their best to roll with it. Buddy had been on a real catching spree as of lately, Donating to Gramble’s barn, helping Chandlo get his ‘gains’, the snax used to help Snorpy defend against the Grumpanati or whatever had happened to somebody in town. Of course, these started to wear on them and their friends noticed. Filbo in particular.

But it was fine. They were fine. They had to be, because who was going to do it otherwise?

Buddy stopped by Wambus’s farm for a second, to gather the sauces needed to gather the Bugsnax they needed today. The farmer noticed them, pausing in his work to greet them.

“Stranger! What brings you here so early?��

“Headed out to the Simmering Springs to catch some stuff for Beffica, she’s really obsessed with Snaquiri right now….” They said, swiping some Cholocate Sauce. “Amd Wiggle wants a Grapeskeeto….oh, and Snorpy wants a Pinkle for something….then I gotta backtrack to Sugarpine-”

“Uh…those are, uh, lotta requests…” Wambus frowned, eyebrows furrowed. He rested his weight against his hoe. “Shouldn’t you space those out?”

“It’s fine. Why not do them all today, right?” Buddy yawned, shaking themselves slightly as to not fall asleep. Wambus still looked unconvinced.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Buddy affirmed, preparing to head down to the Sinmering Springs. Their eyes were still heavy but other than the usual exhaustion, they coud run errands. Wouldn’t bet that hard. Snaquiri just had to be shot down with a bit of Sauce, and thye could used the chocolate to get Grapeskeeto, so really all they had to do was catch those, walk through the campfire, head to Sugarpine, catch the Sprinklepede, then make it back to Flavor Falls to-

Wait. Campfire?

They looked down. Oh, they were on fire. People were screaming.

Seems about right.

…..Oh grump, they’re on fire!!

Buddy ran around, kicking up as much dirt as they possibly could and stepping on their own feet in an attempt to put out the fire. Thankfully, they had only been set ablaze for a minute or so, letting it pamper out with only minor bits of singed fur. Buddy sighed.

“Buddy!” Filbo cried out, but Buddy brushed him off, intent to keep going, mumbling a quick apology.

And then, Buddy felt himself getting lifted into the air and slung a navy furred shoulder.

“Wha-?!”

“I’ve been watching ya for the past week as you ran yourself dry with different errands, ya need to lay down!” Wambus growled. “Now.”

“Wambus! Wambus, let me go!” Buddy tried to squirm their way out of Wambus’s grasp, only to fail everytime. He marched them to their hut, and plopped them on their bed, tucking them into the sheets. The journalist pouted, annoyed at the turn of events. They tried to get up, but Wambus refused to let them leave, keeping them under the blankets.

“Wambus!”

“Ya look like death, take a nap.”

“I don’t-”

“Shhhhhhhh….nap.” Wambus shushed them. “Don’t fight it, I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m…I’m,,,” Buddy tried to struggle, but Wambsu was right. He was exhausted, sleep deprived and in a bit of pain. They laid against the pillow, feeling themselves get tucked in once more.

“I’m not tired. Just. Just a quick break.”

Wambus snorted. “Of course, Stranger.” He ruffled their hair and left their hut.

Buddy was asleep in less than two minutes.

#bugsnax #bugsnax x reader #wambus troubleham #bugsnax journalist #the journalist bugsnax #how ironic considering my last few requests/silly

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

Text

sports promoter!kuroo + taking care of his pregnant wife

anon: Hi ur farmer kita and atsumu x pregnant reader fics were so good and heartwarming is it alright to ask for a kuroo one 👉👈

i think i got this request right after releasing the atsumu one and i’m so glad you guys have been liking it so far! these have been super fun to write and i like having that mix of fluff and crack in these hc’s. SO YEAH I’M SUPER EXCITED FOR THIS KUROO ONE I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT TOO !!

i feel like kuroo would be the type to fall for someone he’s known for quite some time because he likes that sense of familiarity with another person

the two of you had been good friends in high school and admittedly, you also had a crush on him because who didn’t

sadly, the two of you lost touch a bit when you entered different universities BUT you had a fateful run-in at the MSBY Jackals vs. Schweiden Adlers game

you were there as a journalist and you couldn’t mistake that familiar bedhead for anyone else so you just had to come over and say hi

meanwhile, kuroo couldn’t take his eyes off you, especially seeing how beautiful you look now

after you conducted your interviews, kuroo decided to straight-up ask if you were free later that evening and you were. he took you out to a nice restaurant and the two of you were able to catch up

from then on, the two of you meet quite often, most especially at work because you were a journalist for a sports news channel

kuroo isn’t the type to beat around the bush so he ended up asking you out on an official date to which you said yes

he is the SWEETEST boyfriend. be prepared for lots of text messages filled with every heart emoji you can think of and him just dropping in randomly while you’re at work to give you hug or a kiss

despite how busy he is, kuroo loves making time for dates with you, whether it’s eating dinner together or catching a movie

you love the fact that even though he’s grown up, kuroo is still pretty much the same science-loving dork you fell for in high school

some of your at-home dates involve the two of you eating popcorn and watching the newest science documentary series on national geographic and discovery channel

idk why but i feel like kuroo is super into River Monsters and Shark Week and you find it cute how you can hear his little squeals of excitement while sitting on his lap

i feel like kuroo isn’t really the type of guy who thinks that marriage is an absolute must. as long as you guys love each other he’s down with living with you forever

and then he finds out that marriage has tax benefits and he’s like ‘guess i gotta put a ring on it’

jk it’s also because he loves you

*whispers* but tax benefits tho

kuroo is gonna be SUPER EXTRA about proposing to you. i’m talking dinner at a fancy restaurant, a trip to the rooftop, then he’ll have a fireworks display with the words ‘will you marry me?’ written across the sky (actually idk if this is illegal but lets pretend it isn’t)

now y’all are engaged

kuroo is honestly the best at wedding planning. he probably likes it more than you and he already has a pinterest board of wedding inspo and everything

he loves sending and showing you wedding cake ideas and even napkin folds so you have to rein him in a bit because kuroo gets excited really easily

you guys have a classic wedding but for the reception kuroo probably begged for you to have a nerdy theme. eventually you went with space exploration and kuroo showed up wearing a spacesuit

he also had a special dance number specifically prepared for you and he even got bokuto, akaashi, lev and kenma into it and it was amazing

was the number ‘i want it that way’ by the backstreet boys? yes

immediately after getting married, kuroo brings up the subject of having kids because he’s always wanted to have a family of his own and kids to raise

plus he knows you’ll be a GREAT mom

expect his ‘wanna have sex ;)’ texts to turn into ‘are you ovulating rn?’ texts kuroo pls stop this is embarassing

also i personally feel that even though kuroo is a science geek he also got into astrology because that’s what the kids are doing these days

you try to surprise him with birthday sex but then he’s all ‘y/n, if you get pregnant this month our baby is going to be a cancer and i don’t want that’

i hate u cancers, myself included

after choosing a due date zodiac sign for your baby, kuroo is ready to have a baby with you

when you find out you’re pregnant kuroo was actually at work but he ditched whatever he was doing and took a bus all the way home to see you

one of his favorite things to do is talk to your baby and caress your little bump and kuroo will talk about ANYTHING: the weather, how his day was, how beautiful you look every day, the new River Monsters episode

you: kuroo, please that’s the fifth time you’ve told our baby that catfish swallowing a man whole story

kuroo: you’re right. should i tell them the piranha story instead?

i just know that kuroo would be the type to film a video of the two of you all throughout your nine months of pregnancy to show the baby

it’s honestly so cute how excited he gets whenever he’s filming himself

kuroo: hey baby! it’s your dad, talking to you from the past. by that time, there will be flying cars--

you, from the other room: THERE WON’T BE

kuroo: okay, hoverboards tho

he loves taking pictures of you and putting them in a little album for the memories. sometimes he’ll even show it to his friends or people at work (you have to tell him to stop tho because most of the pics are of you napping on the couch with junk food around you)

since he wants to be super prepared, kuroo would make sure that he takes time off work when your due date rolls around

when you feel your first contraction kuroo’s already there carrying you to the door and calling a taxi at the same time

he’s yelling out too many encouragements for you to focus on your breathing so you have to tell him to shut up for two minutes

i think kuroo would actually want to be in the delivery room to hold your hand and make sure everything’s okay and yell even more encouragements

except all his encouragements are related to volleyball

kuroo: give it one more good serve y/n!!

you: TETSUROU

kuroo’s the first one to hold your baby while you were still resting after the labor. he’s even there help the nurses give your child a bath

when a nurse comes up offering to put your child in the nursery kuroo’s all 🥺🥺but i wanna hold them 🥺🥺

when you wake up in the hospital room kuroo immediately rushes over to you with your child in his arms

kuroo: look y/n, it’s our child

you can tell that he’s very emotional

kuroo’s hugging the both of you real close and smiling at his little family

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

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @tpwkatsumu @waitforitillwritemywayout @kattykurr

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mrsdeanwinchester19 · 3 years

Text

The Interview

Steve x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: The Avengers have interviews with a news outlet and it doesn’t go as expected

Type: Fluff and humor

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: This was inspired by the Jiminy Glick/Jimmy Fallon interview

The Avengers compound was almost completely quiet, Steve was the only one awake. He doesn’t normally stay at the compound anymore, preferring to stay at his house, but they got in late from a mission last night and fell asleep after taking his suit off. The only noise came from the drip, drip, drip of the coffee maker as he mentally tried to prepare for the interviews the whole team has today. Everyone had been assigned a journalist for a news outlet called The New York Sun. They were doing a piece on the Avengers, hopefully they won’t try to turn it into an exposé, but it’s not like they would find any information that isn’t already on the Internet after Natasha decrypted and released SHIELD’s files.

Bucky stumbles into the kitchen in a long gray and purple striped robe, looking like he just woke from cryo. “Good morning sunshine,” Steve jokes. Bucky glares at him before taking the cup of coffee that Steve had prepared for himself before walking back out. “FRIDAY,” Steve says to the air. “Set an alarm for everyone’s room.” He smiles slightly when the loud alarm starts blaring in all their rooms.

Sam slams his door open and looks around frazzled. “What the hell, man?” He clearly woke up thinking there was some kind of attack happening.

Steve simply shrugs his shoulders in response. “You need to get ready.”

Once everyone had gotten up and gotten ready, they all have a meeting in the common area. Tony orders them not to say anything the people don’t know about already, don’t say anything about each other, and definitely don’t talk about relationships or family.

The journalists are spread out around the compound, each in their own room, so Tony tells them where to go to meet their journalist. Steve goes into the conference room to see one chair turned away from him. When he closes the door, the journalist spins their chair around and sets their papers on the table. Steve is immediately struck by how beautiful the interviewer is. Long Y/H/C hair tumbling over her shoulders, bright Y/E/C eyes staring into his baby blues. She’s wearing a tight black skirt and a white blouse that Steve can slightly see her lacy bralette through.

“Steve Rogers, nice to meet you,” she says, extending her hand. Steve grips her soft hand in his rough one and shakes it. He can’t help but notice the lack of a ring on the hand he didn’t shake.

“Nice to meet you too Miss…” he trails off.

“Y/N.”

“Miss Y/N. It’s not often we do interviews, just press conferences,” he says, sitting down across the table from her.

“Well, normally I interview celebrities, so this is a nice change of pace,” she answers. Apparently Steve isn’t a celebrity in her eyes despite the fact that he’s a national icon and has been since World War II.

“What would you like to know?” Steve changes the subject.

“I want to know about your journey. I want to know how-” she checks her notes, “-Steve Rogers got to where he is today; but not too much detail because I don’t actually care. You were born where?”

“I was born and raised in Brooklyn-,” Steve explains, but she cuts him off.

“-Isn’t that wonderful? Poor Brooklyn or Newsies Brooklyn?”

“Uh, it was more poor Brooklyn.”

“Poor Brooklyn, okay. And I’m assuming from the grammar…limited education.”

Steve nearly has to keep his jaw from dropping at her audacity. To keep his mouth from opening, he clenches his jaw as she continues with the questions. He may not be a genius like Tony, but he’s smart. While Tony’s head is filled with ideas for inventions, his is packed with military strategies, fighting styles, and a lifetime of wise advice that the team never wants to hear. Then, at night, what takes over his mind is how embarrassing the Rappin’ with Cap videos about hot lunches and tooth decay are.

She continues before he has a chance to respond, “There are a lot of words you don’t say. Rumors are you don’t swear, is that true?” Steve nods his head in affirmation. “Why? Are you scared of saying the words or something?”

Steve sighs, used to this kind of response. “I just think it sounds unintelligent and unprofessional.”

“Ah, and with your lack of education you want to sound as smart as possible. So, moving on, you stopped producing weapons. You said ‘I’m not gonna do it anymore’. Why is that?”

“Yeah, that uh, that wasn’t me, that was Tony.”

“And you are…?”

“Steve Rogers.”

She gasps, “These questions are not- I’m not prepared for this! Alright, improvising. Here’s one, how are you alive?”

“I beg your pardon?” Steve asks, not quite understanding if she’s referring to his age or a certain mission he shouldn’t have come back from.

“You went into the ice. Human cells are mostly made of water. When water freezes, it expands. Your cells should have burst.”

“They think that the serum prevented it from happening. The doctors said that instead of the water in my cells expanding that when it got cold it clumped together and turned solid. I’m not a scientist though, that’s something you would want to ask Bruce or Cho, they tried to explain it to me.”

“Bruce isn’t a medical doctor, right?” she asks.

“Right. But he studied the serum, attempting to replicate it and now that I’m here again he’s trying to learn more about it. I was basically a pin cushion for him in the beginning, he took so much blood.”

“Alright, last question. I wanna ask you about your relationship with Bucky Barnes.”

“He’s a very good friend-“ Steve begins.

“Lover.”

“What?”

“Is he your lover?” she asks again.

“No, he’s just a friend; basically my brother,” Steve defends.

“Admit it in this interview, he’s your male lover!”

“You’re just trying to get a reaction out of me!” Steve says. He knows he shouldn’t let her rile him up at all, but he can’t help it when the entire interview has been to hold.

“I’m not trying to get a reaction.”

“Yes you are, you’re trying to get a reaction out of me by saying ridiculous stuff like this!”

“I’ll tell you the reaction that I’m trying to get over, I’m trying to get over the fact that I thought this was with Stark!”

“You gotta be shitting me.”

“Oof, Rogers, you kiss your wife with that mouth? Or should I say you kiss Bucky with that mouth,” she says.

Steve pulls at his own hair before walking out of the conference room. She’ll find her own way out. What the hell kind of interview was that? The questions were almost nonsensical, followed no pattern or sequence, and apparently she thought she was interviewing a different person. He’s been angered by interviewers before, especially when they try to work in “gotcha” questions, but never straight up insulted like this with the education comment. He’s not sure if the others are done with their interviews yet but if he needs to talk to them, he can text. He’s headed home.

You unlock your front door and drop your purse after closing the door. Before you even get a chance to turn on the light, a voice calls out. “Limited education?”

You jump a bit and put your hand on your chest. You look over to see a dark figure on the couch. He stands up and slowly walks over until he’s in the light shining through the front windows from the street lights. “I think you deserved it,” you say.

“Oh really?” he asks.

“Yes. Texting your wife that you’re getting in and then staying at the compound?” You walk closer to him. “I stayed up for hours worried that something happened to you in the last few minutes of the flight and you said I’m not allowed to call you during missions.”

“I’m sorry babe, my phone died and I passed out when I went to go take off my uniform. Can you forgive me?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You look up at him then at his chest. “I mean, a massage would definitely help…”

He laughs. “I was about to ask the same thing of you, especially after FRIDAY showed Tony the full recording of my interview and then had an almost two hour phone call with me about it. He’s gonna kill me when he finds out the interviewer was my wife. Actually it’s gonna be when he finds out I got married and didn’t invite the team.”

“Well don’t worry about it,” you say, setting your hands against his chest and feel his strong heart beating beneath his skin. “He’ll understand since you two weren’t on good terms at the time. In other news, I wrote you a shining review about how you’re smart, selfless, brave, kind, and how sexy your ass is.”

He laughs and leans down to kiss you. The kiss is chaste but sweet. “We’re having dinner with the team on Thursday.”

It’s Monday today so that gives me only 3 days to mentally prepare to meet the people most important to him. “Are you sure?” I ask nervously.

“Of course! You already know Bucky and he loves you. I’m sure the rest of the team will too. Besides, how else will we explain the great article about me when Tony saw the interview.”

“Did you tell them they’re having dinner with you and your wife?” I ask. I have hung out with Bucky and Steve dozens of times. He comes over for dinner at least twice a week and he was the best man at Steve’s second wedding. Because Tony and Steve had been split apart, he really wanted Bucky at his wedding, even though he wasn’t fully recovered yet. I think Steve would’ve put him in a straight jacket had it meant he could be there. Bucky also wanted to be there more than anything, he was just terrified he would ruin Steve’s day. So after telling Bucky, you had a small, second ceremony that Bucky was able to attend, along with Steve’s Wakandan friends. We may end up having a third ceremony that the team can finally attend.

“Nope. I just told them team dinner on Thursday and they have to be there. But for now, how about we head to the bedroom and get reacquainted?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows and biting his full lower lip.

“Yeah, you need to take care of your wife that you left alone for a week. Otherwise you’ll get an article about your secret addition to glazed donuts and soap operas!”

Taglist: @imanuglywombat

#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #captain america #the interview #fluff #Avengers #The Avengers #steve rogers x reader #steve x you #tony stark #Bucky Barnes

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