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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 6

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,327

Warnings: panic attacks, Bucky recalls his accident

A/N: I don’t have much to say, Bucky’s real emotional in this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter :’)

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

Everywhere Bucky looked his eyes and ears were assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and colours. Red and green baubles hung from the ceiling, shimmering like disco balls and sending sparkles around the mall.

The air smelled like pine and cinnamon, something he usually liked, but it was so pungent and unpleasant that it made his stomach churn and bile rise up his throat. He tried to breathe through his mouth, forcing oxygen into his lungs.

Flashes of silver and gold momentarily blinded him, and as someone walked past him, their shopping bag knocked against his leg. It didn’t hurt but it made him seethe with misplaced anger. Beads of sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

Christmas carols played over the mall speakers, more specifically Jingle Bells which they played three times in less than an hour. Enough, enough, enough. He was suffocating, unable to breathe. He felt too big for his own skin, he needed to escape.

Then he felt your hand at the small of his back, guiding him toward what looked like a furniture store. He followed blindly, his vision blurry and unfocused, and sat down when you gently pushed him down onto a sofa.

Bucky shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushion. A woman came up and asked if you needed help but you told her that everything was fine. The buzzing in his ears made the voices around him strangely soothing, as if he was underwater. Now that he was sitting down, he felt a lot better.

You didn’t try to touch him, something he was very grateful for. He could feel your weight shift next to him and knowing you were there was enough. He focused on you –your heat, your voice, the smell of your shampoo- and his breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Sorry,” he breathed out with a small smile, his head lolling to one side to look at you. “I ruined our shopping spree.”

The fear and panic had dissipated, leaving him cold, exhausted and craving skin to skin contact. He took your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were freezing cold.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I did.” A sad smile curved his lips, he needed to change the subject. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

You sank further into the sofa cushion sitting shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.

“We celebrated so many different holidays,” you said. “Perks of growing up in a multicultural family. Christmas was wild though. One tree, five kids. That poor thing never stood a chance. Now I don’t really celebrate anything. December used to be so much fun, now it’s just not the same.”

“We should create our own holiday,” Bucky suggested, squeezing your hand.

“Aren’t you going to see your family?”

“Nah,” he replied with a yawn. “My sister is taking her kids somewhere warm, and my parents are traveling the country in their RV. You can invite your siblings if you want.”

“They’re not available.”

Bucky tried to decipher the expression on your face. Every time you talked about your siblings, you had a faraway look in your eyes, as though you were reliving a memory. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your face twisted into a painful grimace. Then suddenly it was gone.

“I want a tree.”

He watched you with a lazy smile. “I’ll get you a tree.”

You pulled him up to his feet and decided it was time to go home. Home. It still made Bucky weirdly warm inside when you called his apartment ‘home’. You crossed the mall, your arm looped through his as you walked, and took a cab to Brooklyn.

He almost fell asleep from the gentle rocking of the car moving through the streets of Manhattan. When he glanced at you, you were looking out your window watching the snow fall.

You’d been living together for almost two months now and Bucky couldn’t have picked a better roommate. He liked the way you sang in the shower, loud, cheerful and most definitely off-key. He liked that you had more pyjamas than every day clothes. He liked watching you paint from the living room, and it always made him laugh when you added weird things to his grocery list.

He could go to bed and sleep the whole night without waking up, feeling safer knowing someone else was there. Of course, not everything was perfect but it was close enough.

He woke up on the sofa a few hours later, still dressed and with a fluffy blanket thrown over him. The sun was setting, painting the sky with reds and oranges. He basked in the setting sun, a content smile on his face, before he sat up.

The TV was on, the volume low, and you were sitting cross-legged on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table going through a bunch of old photographs. Bucky looked around the room, taking in the new furniture and decor.

There was a comfortable armchair in front of the gas burning fireplace. Your book was resting on the seat of the armchair. You had also bought a lot of decorative pillows, some were pretty funny like the one that looked like a giant cookie.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, his voice gruff with sleep.

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Hey, you’re awake! I bought some picture frames. I thought it’d make this place look less like a high end furniture store.”

“I liked it better when you thought this apartment was amazing.”

You laughed. “I still do, but it’s a bit... soulless.” You tilted your head back, looking at him upside down. “Sorry.”

“Gotta call a spade a spade,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “All right, well, while you do that I’m going to start dinner.”

He pushed off the sofa but you caught his wrist before he could leave. “I’m already done. I’ve left some frames for you.”

“I already have lots of pictures upstairs.”

“I know, but no one ever goes upstairs,” you replied, letting go of his wrist. “And you’re not in any of the photos.”

Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the picture you were holding. It must have been taken on the day of your high school graduation, you were dressed in a cap and gown, smiling with your whole face. He’d never seen you smile like that. He recognized Peggy Carter right away, her hair was more silver-white than brown and there were deep wrinkles around her eyes.

Your mom wasn’t looking at the camera, she was scolding the young man who was giving you bunny ears. The man was grinning mischievously at the camera. Bucky couldn’t tell how old he was, he appeared to be either twenty or fifty.

There were two other women wearing sundresses, one had long brown hair, the other had twisted her hair into Bantu knots. A young man with dyed silver hair and dark roots was squatting in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest à la Backstreet Boys.

“You should frame this one,” he said, sitting on the floor next to you.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It makes me kinda sad.”

Bucky learned not to dwell on the past. It hadn’t been easy but it would have been impossible to heal without the support of his friends and family. Grief manifests itself in a number of ways, it’s raw and complex, and comes from your soul.

Bucky had a deep love for his childhood, especially his college years, but while he would cherish this time forever, he had accepted that he was a different person. He wasn’t the same naïve, youthful man he used to be, and it wasn’t a bad thing.

But he also knew that some people live in the past. It makes them feel alive.

“Y’know,” he started, meeting your eyes with a smile. “My hair used to be pretty long. I think I still have some photos in a folder somewhere.”

You clasped your hands together in a silent prayer. “Bucky, I’m going to be honest with you,” you deadpanned. “I need to see those pictures. I need them now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

He rolled his eyes while he got to his feet. “You’re so dramatic. I’ll go get ‘em.”

Bucky took the stairs up to his office and came back a few minutes later with a laptop under his arm. He sat on the floor next to you and set the laptop on his lap.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, mimicking a Cheshire cat grin.

He sighed and tried to look stern but it was nearly impossible. You were too lovely, and he couldn’t help but smile. He opened up the laptop and glanced at you from the corner of his eye; you were practically vibrating.

He started going through the photos when he found one of himself at a party. He was in his early twenties, slumped in a chair, his eyes glassy and unfocused. In the next one he had been joined by two equally drunk women, and he was now roaring at the camera.

“Early twenties, two arms, and not a care in the world,” he said with a little sigh.

You leaned forward, your elbow resting on the coffee table. “Looks like you were having fun.”

“College was a lot of fun,” Bucky said, grinning to himself.

“What was your major?”

“English,” he replied. “I was a really good student, I could have chosen anything but there were more girls studying literature so I enrolled as an English major.”

“Wait!” You recoiled as if you had misheard him. “Did you really choose English because there were more girls?”

He made a funny grimace, and his nose scrunched up a bit as he mulled it over. “Yeah... my priorities were a bit mixed up. Hormones and all.”

You lowered your face into your hand and laughed. When you looked up at him, he was sporting his boyish grin and you shook your head at him.

In the next picture, he was clad in a black university graduation gown standing next to a blond man also dressed in a black gown. They were smiling, sunglasses perched on their nose.

“When I graduated, I had no idea what to do with a BA in English,” Bucky said after taking a long look at the photo. “The thing is, I never found my life’s calling. In high school I didn’t know what job I wanted to do, or what really motivated me, and to be honest I never really thought about it. I figured I’d find my passion in college but...” he trailed off with a shrug. “You’re lucky to have found your passion.”

“Is that why you want to help me?” you asked. “Because I found my calling and I wasn’t pursuing it.”

He tilted his head to one side, considering. “Yes, I guess that’s part of the reason why I want to help you.” He took a shuddering breath.

“Turns out I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep my head above water.” He pressed his index finger to the computer screen. “This is Steve, my oldest friend. He had just started working as a professional freelance photographer. I had nothing to do so I decided to help him build his portfolio. You’re an artist, I’m sure you know that a portfolio will make or break you.”

“It shows what you’ve accomplished, the skills you mastered,” you said, nodding. “Your potential employers will want to see your portfolio.”

“Exactly, and you have to show them your best work. In Steve’s case, it meant taking risks. No matter how talented you are, no one’s gonna pay you for a shot of the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s gorgeous but it’s not rare.”

“So what did he do?”

“We decided to climb Mount Everest.” He mechanically rubbed his stump and your eyes followed his movement. “It might’ve been the dumbest idea we’ve ever had but it sort of made sense at the time. Steve needed a challenging project and I was trying to find my purpose. We trained for a year, put money aside and took a loan. We were young, we thought we were invincible.

“The thing is,” he continued, “Mount Everest is the most famous mountain in the world. It’s crowded and only half the climbers reach the summit. A lot of people die.” He took a small pause. “Sometimes they can’t remove their bodies and they become landmarks. Our Sherpa told us about this man, they call him Green Boots. He’s sort of curled up in a fetal position near what they call Green Boots’ cave. When you walk past him, it looks like he’s just sleeping and because it’s so cold out there he’s actually well-preserved.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah, it’s awful,” Bucky let out a small, humourless laugh. “When I fell, I dislocated my arm and it pinched my axillary artery completely closed. It cut off circulation. That’s why they had to amputate. I was just lying there, too weak to call for help, watching people walk past me. They thought I was dead. And I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to die here. I’m going to die here and people will refer to me as Blue Jacket.’ Then Steve and the Sherpa found me, and Steve carried me on his back until they found a shelter. When the rescue team arrived, it was too late to save my arm.”

He went through the photos in silence and glared at the screen without really seeing it, his mind far away. On the screen, there was an endless stream of blurry smiles and blue eyes but he couldn’t look away. His thoughts cleared up when he felt the back of your knuckles along his cheek and jaw.

He unclenched his teeth, feeling the pain in his jaw. You brushed your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. You mindlessly played with the curl on top of his head and raked your fingernails gently over his scalp. When you spoke, your voice was just a soft whisper.

“Come back to me.”

Bucky forced his eyes shut and swallowed past the lump in his throat, tears pooling on his lower lashes. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. After a moment, he felt his body beginning to relax.

“How do you do that?” he asked in a pleading voice, turning his head to look at you. “How do you quiet the noise in my head?”

The question caught you off guard but you recovered quickly. You took his arm and draped it over your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you said, snuggling into his side. “It’s your second panic attack today. Did I push you too hard?”

“No.” His response was immediate. “I don’t like winter. It’s freezing cold and it gets dark at three thirty. Not my favorite time of the year.”

“But this helps, right?” you asked, waving your hand back and forth in the space between you.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it helps a lot.”

“Good.” You snuggled a little closer.

“But since you’re hoarding my arm, you’re gonna have to go through the pictures yourself,” he added, grinning down at you.

“Sorry,” you laughed. You reached out and slid two fingers over the touchpad guiding the cursor over the arrow icon. “So where are those pictures of you with long hair, uh?”

He knew you were trying to distract him but still made him blush. Those photos were in a folder titled: recovery spring 2010. He gave you directions to find it and waited for your reaction, wondering if you would burst into laughter at the sight of him with long hair and a lot more weight on.

“Wow.”

Bucky turned his attention to the screen to see which one had caught your interest. It was a selfie Steve had taken one sunny afternoon after he had forced Bucky to go out with him and Sam. They were sitting outside drinking iced tea.

Steve’s smile was blinding. He was wearing that stupid baseball cap he loved so much. Bucky sat hunched over in his seat behind Steve, his smile small but genuine. It was the kind of smile that said ‘my friends forced me to join them but I’m secretly glad they did’. Sam was leaning sideways against Bucky, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

“You look like a completely different person,” you said. “So... strong.”

“Hey!” he gasped in mock offense. “How dare you? I’m still strong.” He removed his arm from behind your shoulders and raised it to flex his biceps. “Look at that!”

With a roll of your eyes, you let your hand roam over his muscular arm slightly squeezing his biceps. “Okay, I’m impressed.”

“Ah! Thank you,” he said with a pleased smile. “Now, c’mon, s’ time to eat.”

Bucky got to his feet and extended his hand to help you up. You trailed behind him as you walked toward the kitchen. “I bet Steve could rip a log in half with his bare hands.”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Where is he?”

“Hard to say. He works for National Geographic now. I think he’s supposed to be in Siberia.”

You spent the next few days like tourists. You showed Bucky your favourite museums, stayed way too long in front of several artworks but he never complained. Bucky took you to the movies. You sat together in the dark for several hours watching foreign films, and you only fell asleep once. Then the two of you would walk around Manhattan speaking in a made-up language and pretending to be characters in a movie.

Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so carefree. A little voice in the back of his head kept repeating ‘enjoy it while it lasts’ but he chose to ignore it.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Bucky said, gesturing at the tree in the living room. “She went to the store to buy some ornaments.”

He handed Sam a bottle of beer which he took with a smile before tipping it to his lips for a long drink. Bucky hit his beer bottle on the counter to uncap it and followed Sam into the living room.

“She’s excited, uh,” Sam said with a grin. “You guys are spending Christmas together?”

“Liss,” Bucky replied after taking a swig of beer. “We’re celebrating Liss this year.”

“’The hell is that?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s an old word. It means comfort, happiness.” A respite from pain. “We decided to make our own holiday. We’re going to spend two days in our fanciest loungewear, eating junk food and playing board games.”

“Cute,” Sam drawled out. “When’s the wedding?”

“Don’t say that.” Bucky glared at him. “Why do you always do that? I finally feel at peace with myself. I’m happy, I’m ready to take on new challenges. Why do you always have to make fun of me?”

Sam’s eyes widened at this. “Woah, I’m joking. It’s what we do. You tease me, I tease you. C’mon, I know things have been hard for you. I’m proud of you,” he rushed to say, afraid he might have hurt his friend’s feelings, but then he caught Bucky’s barely concealed smirk behind his beer bottle. “You’re messing with me.”

“Of course, man. Can you say ‘I’m proud of you’ again? Wanna make it my ringtone.”

“Screw you.” They sipped their beer in silence, each deep in thought. “But you like her, right?”

Bucky twirled the neck of the bottle between two fingers. “I do, she’s nice.”

Sam shook his head like he was frustrated with the answer “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not in love with her, Sam.”

“I never said anything about being in love.” He was silent for a moment before he added, “Beside there’s an entire world between like and love.”

Bucky caught a glimpse of hurt and fear in the depths of Sam’s eyes. He reminded him of Steve: strong yet vulnerable, generous and righteous. Bucky had a feeling Sam wasn’t talking about you.

“Is this about Natasha?”

Sam hung his head and stared at the beer bottle he rolled between his hands. “Sometimes I feel like it was inevitable. These sugar daddy relationships are complicated; at first it’s fun and easy, we both get what we want.” He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “And then it changes, so fast you barely see it coming, and it becomes the only thing you look forward to.” He took another swig of beer.

“These few hours with her mean more to me than anything else in this goddamn world. But it’s not real, none of this is real.”

“How do you know it’s not real?” Bucky asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“I pay her.” Sam gave him a sad smile. “She spends time with me because I pay her. Sex wasn’t part of our deal but it came naturally. It’s going to end, one way or another. And If my time with her is limited, why make things complicated, y’see?”

An uneasy feeling gnawed at Bucky’s stomach, taunting him, trying to make him see something he wasn’t ready to see yet. “What if she feels the same way ‘bout you?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “To know that I’d have to talk to her, and I’d rather not take my chances. I’m happy with the way things are right now. It hurts, but I’m okay.” He leaned back and made himself comfortable. “You gotta be careful, Bucky. I see the way you look at your angel. You’re skating on thin fucking ice.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Like, love,” Sam said, weighing the two words. “And everything in between.”

They mulled over Sam’s words while they finished their beer. A million thoughts raged through Bucky’s head, circling around like wasps, buzzing and annoying. He was relieved when he heard the front door open.

“Italian leather loafers, mmh is Sam here?” you called out from the kitchen where you set your shopping bag down on the table before you joined them in the living room. “Hey guys! What’s the matter? You both look like someone kicked your puppy-OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THAT TREE!”

While you ran across the living room, Sam cast Bucky a look. The message was clear; be careful. They got to their feet and acted like nothing happened. Sam put on his coat and gave you a quick hug before he left.

Bucky was silent while you were decorating the tree. He let you decide where you wanted to put the tinsel and baubles. He just sat there with a vacant look in his eyes, handing baubles. A smile curled his lips when you cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone. He looked up at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Just old and moody.”

You laughed. “Come here, help me with this. It’s actually super boring when no one’s fighting for the baubles.”

“Oh, you wanna fight, angel,” he said with a smirk while he played with a tinsel garland. “Ok, let’s fight.”

You took a step back. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Too late!”

You shrieked when he launched himself at you. He wrapped the tinsel garland around you, loosely pinning your arms to your sides. You laughed so hard your eyes watered and your shoulders shook. He used it to his advantage and looped two baubles over your ears like giant earrings.

Still laughing, you tugged one of your hands free and threw a handful of tinsel all over Bucky before you ran away. He chased you around the living room, using one of the fairy lights as a lasso.

Soon, the living room was a giant mess. There was more tinsel in Bucky’s hair than on the tree, and you had managed to wrap the fairy lights around his body. You look pretty ridiculous with your giant earrings and dishevelled hair.

You and Bucky collapsed on the floor, out of breath and euphoric. The sun was starting to set behind the skyscrapers casting a warm golden glow over the room. You turned on the fairy lights and burst out laughing when Bucky sparkled like a tree.

He found his phone on the sofa and handed it to you. You opened up the camera app and nestled closer to him. The first photo was blurry because you couldn’t stop laughing. Bucky thought the second photo was nice but you didn’t like it.

“My smile is too wild,” you said.

“You look beautiful,” he argued. “I look like a Christmas tree.”

Bucky felt a pleasant stir in his belly when you placed your head on his shoulder. Be careful. He could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head. His chest was hurting. It wasn’t unpleasant, just peculiar and unexpected. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of your head.

“Bucky! You have to open your eyes,” you scolded him after looking at the picture, unaware of his inner turmoil.

He wasn’t sure he could; tears were welling up in his eyes. He was terrified of his feelings for you, but his body was screaming at him to stop burying his head in the sand. He didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes, he didn’t want to alarm you, because the truth was, he hadn’t been careful.

“Can’t. I’m comfy,” he replied, masking his true feelings behind a joke.

“Open them or I’ll tickle you.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay, no need to use force.”

He soldiered on and opened his eyes, smiling at the camera. He liked you, and he promised himself he would never tell you. His feelings didn’t matter, it wasn’t part of your deal.

Part 7

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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mediocre--writing · 3 years

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeknnubu/

I think I can send links but- I just saw this Pre K teacher tiktok & now all I can think of is a future AU where Steve takes like maybe a younger cousin or maybe a friends kid to school (or even his own kid??) and he walks in on fucking bad boy Billy Hargrove, still rocking his leather jacket and combat boots, seated on the carpet doing this with a bunch of Pre K kids as their teacher. Just this big mean badass dude sitting with a bunch of kids, being the best, most sweet teacher in the world

Bonus points for him having a battle jacket of some sort that he lets them add too and play with the dulled down spikes and studs on. And he has a class where the kids all make a patch one big patch for him to add to his jacket because he loves them so much

AND even more points if he just says his whole nice personality is “fake and for work only because it was the first job he got” but It’s actually real, and he really just likes being with the kids all day because their fun & they unconditionally love him, especially on his bad days where he’s sad & less motivated. I just crave soft emotional stuff 😔

steve, for as kind a fellow as he is, really should have thought twice about offering to take his nephew to pre-k every day.

jill, his older sister, had to be at work by 6 every morning during the week and had no means to take her son, patrick, to school every day.

and steve offered because what else was there to do? he worked two jobs that both started later in the day and jill offered to give him gas money to do it, so why not?

plus, patrick really was a sweetheart, he was just an energetic kid. steve preferred older kids. the younger ones tested his patience too much.

but imagine his surprise when he walks into the building, going to patrick’s classroom, turning into the doorway to see billy hargrove, same as he was when they were in high school, sitting on a colorful, patterned rug, animatedly talking to children.

“biwwy!” patrick yelled as he ran from steve’s side to his... teacher... and hugged him super tight.

“hey, patrick, my buddy!”

steve felt like this may be a dream. there is no way that billy hargrove, mullet and all, was patrick’s pre-k teacher.

billy looked to the door, where steve was still standing, and offered a smile. patrick looked to where billy was looking, excitedly telling him about how his super fun uncle was driving him to school now.

billy was engaging with the kids. he talked along with them and was able to balance all the kids at once. he looked happy, steve realized.

steve left a few moments later, making sure patrick was ok and staring at billy for a while longer.

it’s not until the day before winter break that billy and steve actually interact again.

the class is having a holiday party and parents are encouraged to come and bring food, drink, or just general supervision.

steve had made tons of cookies, enjoying his fattening hobby of baking, and they were all decorated with fun santa’s or snowflakes or christmas trees.

he was even told to make a few blank cookies and bring spare icing for kids to decorate during their party stations.

when steve got to the classroom closer to the afternoon, it was still nap time for the 15 kids in the class, all curled up on small cots and bundled in blankets.

when he came in, billy was sitting at a table near the door, organizing strings by color and had stacks of paper and boxes of markers organized the same way.

“hargrove,” steve greeted, “i made cookies, didn’t know if there were any allergies, so they’re pretty plain, no chocolate or anything. and i didn’t decorate a few, like you asked,”

“thanks,” billy didn’t look up to him, still hunched over the table detangling strings. “‘can set ‘em over there,” billy vaguely gestured.

steve went to set them on a table with a fun, winter themed cover over it.

he came back to sit by billy at the craft table because he didn’t know what else to do. plus, he didn’t want to wake any sleeping children.

“so, why are you a pre-k teacher?” steve asked.

“getting straight to the point, huh?”

“well, you look like that,” steve gestured to his embellished leather jacket, the mullet, the tight jeans (not as tight anymore, he did have to get up and down off the floor), and the hefty black boots that could probably crush a kid’s tiny fingers. “and i haven’t heard about you going through a brain reset or something, so what’s up?”

“it’s the only thing i could find,” billy grunted, not liking this conversation.

“don’t teachers have to go to college like everyone else? and have to have like a specific thing that says they’re qualified to be a teacher? seems like an awful lot of work for this to be the only thing you could find,”

“well, i can boss four year olds around all day, who wouldn’t like that job?” billy countered.

steve went to respond when there was a creak heard from behind him. one of the kids, a young girl with a wild head of hair, was walking over to billy with her blanket still wrapped over her shoulders.

“hey, jeanie, what’s wrong, doll?” billy asked, drawing his eyes away from the tangled string, which he didn’t do when talking to steve. he was giving the girl— jeanie— his full attention.

“i woke up,” jeanie said as she made her way closer to billy, “i got nightmares,”

billy’s face turned sympathetic as he put his arms out for jeanie, allowing her to crawl into his lap and rest her head on his chest while he wrapped her tight in his arms.

“wanna tell me what it was about?” billy asked, but only got a shake of her head in return, “that’s ok, you can sleep for another 10 minutes, doll. you’re safe,”

she was cuddled up in his arms, poking at the dull spikes on his shoulders and the silver buttons around the jacket. she looked utterly peaceful as she started to doze off again.

billy was so gentle with the little girl, adjusting her in his arms, making sure she was stable in his lap, before moving one arm back to the string, as if doing it one armed would be easier than before.

“i can do it,” steve offered in a hushed tone, “the string. i can untangle it for you,”

billy slid the string ball over to steve’s side of the table and let him take a crack at it while he started rubbing jeanie’s back.

steve had managed to get the string ball undone in the 10 minutes of nap time they had left. the boys didn’t talk through those 10 minutes, but steve would sneak glances over at billy often.

billy, for someone who tried to run a group of kids over once upon a time, was really great with younger kids. he was able to keep jeanie asleep, even when he moved an arm or straightened his back, something steve couldn’t do with patrick.

another parent showed up right when nap time was going to end, carrying bags of board games and such.

two more parents showed after the kids had woken up, and soon the party was in full swing. the kids were having a delightful time, half of them covered in glitter and icing, but nothing a good bath won’t fix.

billy was thriving in the chaos of four year olds, making sure they were following directions but still having fun, keeping the morale up and excitement high.

the parents seemed to love him, from what steve heard. one parent, wendy, even said that she didn’t like billy to begin with, thought he would be irresponsible and mean, but her kid loves him.

billy, for as much of a big guy as he was, didn’t seem to tower over kids menacingly when standing at full height. and it didn’t seem taunting when he would crouch down. he was on their level, in many ways.

once parents started taking kids home at the end of the day, billy, steve, and patrick were left to help clean up, though patrick was knocked out on the multicolored rug, he’d used up a lot of energy that afternoon.

“so, what do you want me to do?” steve asked, watching billy sweep the floors.

“you can leave if you want, i’ve got it. plus, pat seems to be knocked out, huh?”

“he’s already sleeping, and i feel really bad leaving you to clean everything.”

billy sighed, looking around at the disaster that was his room, “could you start wiping down tables? clorox and paper towels are in the far right cabinet, second shelf,”

they got to work and the whole classroom was clean within the hour. billy was throwing his bag over his shoulder and steve was carrying patrick in his arms as they walked out to their cars.

“do you mind opening my door?” steve asked after many attempts to get patrick adjusted in his arms to move and open the back door.

billy moved over to open the back door of steve’s car before walking back over to his car, the same car he’d been driving since high school.

i guess people really never change, steve thought.

once he got patrick settled into his car seat and got the car running to warm it up before he drove home, steve stood and talked to billy for a few minutes. just casual conversation, a thanks from billy for steve’s help.

“would you, maybe, wanna go get a drink or something some time?” steve asked, awkward as ever.

the rest was history, steve and billy would see each other for a date every weekend and they’d wave to the other in the mornings and afternoons.

they had a similar situation when the spring party came, steve bringing decorated and undecorated cookies for the kids and showing up during their nap time.

but steve had something in his bag that he wouldn’t let billy see.

through the party, steve would bring the mystery item to each kid, making extra sure that billy never saw it.

even at their date that weekend, billy couldn’t get it out of steve to find out what it was.

at the very end of the year, they have another party (and steve does not remember his pre-k days, but he doesn’t think they had this many parties).

billy has been weird the past week, finally realizing that he’s not gonna see these kids often, if at all, anymore. he’d grown very attached.

but, in true billy manner, he refused to let anyone know he was upset about a bunch of toddlers.

that’s where steve’s secret came in handy.

you see, on that day of the spring party, steve had gotten a piece of paper and has each kid sign it in a different color. he’d brought it to a small shop and they’d been able to transfer it onto a patch, one for billy’s jacket.

it was scaled down to be the size of an index card, but all the names were still legible.

when they’d given it to billy at the end of the day, before kids went home, billy almost cried.

he loved the kids so much and loved the connection and impact they have had on him without him knowing. he’s gonna miss rocking jeanie to sleep three times a week because she can never stay asleep alone.

he’s gonna miss the chaos that this group of children, specifically, brought. they made his day great, even if he was feeling especially shitty.

they helped him feel good about himself. kids don’t lie, that’s for sure, and billy created such a strong bond with them that all their thanks and love will be forever ingrained onto his heart.

#stranger things #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #teacher billy #mediocre—writing #mw harringrove

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prettywarriors · 3 years

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Fate The Winx Commentary

Good morning internet! Today is the drop of Winx: Riverdale edition! I sure hope you're ready for my aggressive and unnecessary commentary, because it is coming for you either way!

The netflix landing page lets us know:

Fate The Winx Saga

6 episodes, 48-53 minutes each

"Genres: Fantasy TV Shows, Teen TV Shows, Italian TV Shows"

"This show is: Emotional"

As mentioned elsewhere, my Winx knowledge is limited, so I will be coming into this fairly fresh and will try to be unbiased. As I have seen trailers, the keyword here is Try.

Episode 1

'To the Waters and the Wild'

CW: Animal Death, Swears, Implied Child Death, Blood, Implied Teen Sex, Burns, Weed, Fatphobia, Whatever the term pussie falls under

Episode 1 TL;DR: We meet everyone, learn their dynamics, have the basics of the magic system beat into us, meet our monsters, and name drop Harry Potter. Standard first episode stuff.

I do want it on record before we start that I got about halfway into the first season of Riverdale, and the first season of Netflix Sabrina. They were, well, bland and boring imo? I did get through a few seasons of Teen Wolf, but that's because it was capable of Fun and Jokes. My current expectations are a few unintentionally funny lines, maybe some almost decent magic effects, and because it's 2021, one whole gay character (I did hear one of the boys (there are boys?) is bi, but also an asshole so I'm hoping for some wlw)

TV-MA LANGUAGE AND SMOKING OH FUCKING BOY Almost full moon (waxing) in opening shot- I Will be tracking moon inconsistencies if it keeps showing up that is a pet peeve but hey look a bunch of sheep That's a good start (it's ominous though. don't hurt the sheep) Swears count: Feckin' 2 Mystical portal barrier. Oh yeah s5 of the magicians is on netflix now WELP THOSE ARE SHEEP GUTS RIGHT OUT THE GATE HUH For CW it's up a tree, and the dripping blood is a good warning of what's about to be seen :( oh and then the man who was looking for the sheep dies offscreen save for a spray of blood. THIS ISN'T YOUR CHILD'S WINX CLUB it seems to say. I assume. How much blood was in the original winx because this is already at least a full cup. (Also the monster noises for whatever was chasing the man (werewolf it was a werewolf trailers are bad guys) were not very good)

Opening credit scene is 5-6 different blooming elemental wings. They're pretty, but it's unclear if the last one is secret 6th member wings (because the second to last ones are fire which is the main character's element right?) so maybe we'll get a late 6th addition? (I am in I.T. please give me the most relatable character you cowards)

KIDS IN THE CORNER BY AMBER VAN DAY PLAYING I like where they shot this but that might just be european woods pretty. The opening location was nice and mossy save for the sheep blood Fancy big stone school establishing shots (it's nice, and huge) and we land on a red head who seems less than pleased to be here Courtyard shot of... whatever the name of the replacment plant girl is, holding a tray of various potted plants for an older man (father? first day of school send off maybe?) Aisha(?) walks by, not talking to anyone, Stella(?) is taking Magical!Selfies with at least 3 other girls, Musa(?) has a suitcase and headphones and smiles at a passing girl Oh boy a boy with a pocketknife doing little tricks with it! Nothing says edgy like an actual knife edge. Gonna take this moment to point out I have some level of face blindness and while the girls all look fairly different from one another, if there is more than one tall blonde white boy as I fear there may be, I WILL NOT be able to tell them apart. Not through maliciousness, just general incompetence, so anything I say about the boy characters (I want to say they're the knights to the girl's faeries? is that right? this whole thing smacks of gender) should be taken with a heap of salt I've come to accept tv just. displaying text messages on screen as a storytelling method. It's never my favorite but it just Is a modern story element. Also Bloom needs to meet stella at the alfea gates Alfea I presume is the school- does the name mean something? It sure feels like the word elf and therefore fae but I don't feel like googling anything this early in Oh look two more blondish tall white boys. Pocketknife was wearing something else i think, one guy has a brown jacket and pink shirt (bad combo), the other looks old even by tv highschool/college standards and his jacket has a jock vibe. Jock jacket also has an earring? Is this the bi character who is an asshole? From this one second of him, only in profile, I will assume yes, he is an asshole I like Bloom's backpack Pink shirt looks at Bloom from across the quad. I am already tired of this romance Cool he walks up to someone he has identified as lost, and is 'impressed with [her] confidence in the face of complete ignorance' COMING OUT OF THE GATE WITH A NEGG HUH PINKY He even states he wasn't offering help Then Why Are You Talking To Her Jackass Subs are going with the fairy spelling, and Bloom confirms she is a fairy and we confirm this is College. Unless this is a european thing where they call schools different things. I think that's just for public and private? And maybe just england? I'm American all they teach us is 1492-ww1 over and over for like. 10 years sorry Rest of the World 'What Realm are you from?' 'California' Speaking of ameri-centric, I'm gonna Guess that original Winx, the italian cartoon, didn't have their main character be from cali usa? I am presuming this is a side effect of making this property for a more global distribution than I'm guessing winx was originally conceived as back in the early 00s The Otherworld. I assume this is the fairy realm and whatnot? And the magic school. Seems to be located behind a magical barrier in the earth realm?? If that's right it seems weird if basically everyone who goes to the school is from the otherworld Pinky doubles down on his rudeness but in a Fun and Cute way because :/ and the Specialist hall is Very Pretty, oh and there's a fairy hall. Are specialists the boy...things? magi knights? bros of the blade? guys who wear those 'here come a special boy' sneakers from that one comic? Stella sees this conversation which is great because they drop the term mansplain. why would otherworlders know that term even??? Edgey(?) sees Pinky and they hug it out Stella knows Americans are the type to wander off so I guess there's a lot of inter-world connections?

Miss Dowling- is this teacher going to be like the pedo in riverdale who got *checks notes* killed off by one of multiple serial killers later on? Dowling is the headmistress, gotta keep the otherworld a secret from earthers, time and place for portal making. all standard fantasy stuff so far, nothing to make this stand out Stella has a gateway ring, and frankly isn't too nice? all the backgrounders clothing is Bland and very normal 7 realms of the otherworld, Solaria is where Alfea is, i like magic globe Incase you forgot this was a modern tale, people update their insta stories here. 'I was kindof bummed I didn't see a single pair of wings' YOU AND ME BOTH BLOOM 'We had wings in the past, transformation was lost, tinkerbell was an air fairy' This is either a cop out for your glittery cowardice, or a set up for the main girls re-finding transformation magic later. I did like the Tink bit Bloom is a fire fairy and the subtext of this conversation is that bloom's magic did Something bad. I hope it was burn down her old school's gym a la buffy movie I like miss Dowling but in the I wouldn't Be Surprised if you turned out to be Evil way, and I guess Alfea is a very privileged upper crust school. What types of college do normal fairies go to then huh? damn privileged fairies 'our students have gone on to do amazing things like re-discover long lost magics' We Get It. You will give me Wings, but Only If I'm Patient Dowling throws a jab at Bloom about power control, but I like her necklace so It's Fine

Bloom video calls her parents while unpacking in the dorm, which may have come pre-fit with a heck ton of board games? Love it. Or new plant girl brought them along with her many plants Stella has a fancy mirror and lots of jewelry and fashion photos and makeup, Musa has a laptop and apparently not much else, gotta get those establishing personalities down I guess 'Ladies of the Flies honey don't be sexist' Bloom's dad for feminist of the year (these jokes are bad but i guess we can call it a dad joke as justification) Asiha gives Bloom a look and saves her from the call with her parents- yay friendship step one achieved Blooms parents think she's in the alps because magic secrets and what not Aisha asks bloom if she's never read harry potter and I guess Bloom is a potterhead (that's the term right?). Is this self awareness that all magical school fantasy series have the same basic bricks? Bloom is a ravenclaw sometimes slytherin, Aisha is a Gryffindor Stella is changing because she's the fashion one and has a fun pastel rainbow skirt, and uses magic to make a real aggressive lamp. She's also a mentor (maybe older than the others by a bit?) I am assuming Stella here is something along the lines of a diplomats daughter the way she talks about appearances. She better get down and dirty later on to show her growth about how some things are more important than looks yada yada Fairy magic powered by strong emotions, i am waiting for bloom's backstory to be movie x-men rogue style tragedy Terra! Which. Of course is the Plant Fairy's name. Stella is a little mean to her about the plants and she takes it with a smile and some subtle snark back using classic literature Oh that's fun Terra points out the name-plant thing, and name drops her cousin Flora. That's. The one they replaced with Terra right? Terra's dad works in the greenhouse at the school which explains earlier (and her mum is named rose) Stella is indeed a second year and Musa's eyes change for. Lie detecting magic? and loves her headphones (Overstimulation?) Aisha wants somewhere to swim and we cut to a 'pond' by specialist training. Assuming she wants to sim because she's a water fairy, why Don't they have a pool? also this pond looks. Unpleasant for swimming

Girl specialist! Does that mean we have boy fairies? Boys. Fighting. Talking about girls. All gingers are nuts. Thanks edgelord AMAZING SHAGS THOUGH 'I didn't realize your hand was a red-head' it's not truly edge if we don't talk about sex every 10 minutes Subtitles earlier only said boy 1 boy 2 but now pinky or edgy is Riv Edgy smokes weed, and pinky is a big brother figure to him, and the head? of the special boys doesn't like edgy. Me neither older guy Bit of swordplay, more girls, every specialist has black training outfits, very military Pinky is Sky who is son of Guy of Place. an important lad. without context this is meaningless to me There's a giggly boy who laughs at the idea of a war in the future and gets a talking to. I suspect this boy will be re-occurring enough to die- he has those tertiary character elements with his intro and such (and he's black so I am prepared for your standard racist murder choices) Burned Ones exist outside the barrier, which makes me wonder if dead shepard was in the otherworld? There was nothing establishing that he was in any type of Other place but :/ Oh look edgey is having a smoke cross the barrier while we learn about the creatures that live beyond it. Time to find out these creatures no one young has ever seen are still kicking Specialist leader had to kill his own pa after a burned one got him. They also. Used a shotgun when trying to fight it. Do specialists even have powers or are they just good with weapons? Edgey finds the shepards corpse. Mostly blood 'it's been 16 years since the last sighting' 'Rosalind killed all the burned ones' ahh magical creature genocide hey when is abarat 4 coming out. and is rosalind hot?

School, gossip, Aisha and Musa are snarking at Tera for thinking the guy died of natural causes because we need to have these characters not actually like each other to make it stand out when they do Aisha talks about how she eats a lot and if she didn't swim she'd be massive and we cut to the plus sized tera looking uncomfortable are we really doing this? Tera points out that Musa was ignoring her earlier and it's all just uncomfortable and not great character conflict (but I thought I saw Musa holding an honest to god ipod? it's blue but it could be a phone case. Her hand is in the way) tera and dad interaction is nice, i'm also convinced they couldn't afford more than 3 magic adults

Girl with braids and metal in her hair! There were witches in winx right? Like 3 minor antagonist girls? I assume this is one of them. Because she has alternative fashion and is therefore evil /s Beatrix. Names in this series leave something to be desired (that something is subtly. I get it, they're carry overs from a series for a younger audience, she-ra had the same issue, but i can still poke fun) Swear count: Arsehole 2 Bollocks 1 Shit 1 She's a weird ass kissing with clearly ulterior motives

Bloom is Studying and her notebook is just FAIRY MAGIC POWER = EMOTIONS LOVE FEAR? HARTED? FIRE FAIRY CONTROL? in case you weren't paying attention Oh a flashback already to the magic triggering event? Her mother had pointed out she's an introvert, and past!Bloom doesn't Party. She goes Antiquing and is a Weird Loner (her 'basic bitch' of a mom's words) Swear count: Bitch 1 Bad daughter count: 1 Bad mother count: 1 Magic glowy eyes for Bloom: 1

Bloom Hates Parties and asks Pinky I mean Sky where she can be Away from People and he fears he'll be Mansplaing to her to. vague that it's dangerous outside instead of saying 'hey there's monsters and someone was just killed by possible one of them stay in the barrier' Stella wants to talk to Sky because they have History. I did hear there was a love triangle between these three. I am bored and everyone at this party is a nosey bitch who is watching their tense conversation. Also Something? Happens when Stella gets upset [mystical warbling] Random magic effects in the (very pretty) forest Bloom is trying to practice her magic on her own, and to do that she's gotta look at sad teen pics. And look, her burnt bedroom from her first power usage The fire magic is pretty good. I think fire is like. the opposite of water when it comes to cg where it almost always looks pretty good, while I swear i've seen the actual ocean look like a shitty render Magic out of control, bloom can't control her emotions, Aisha can stop her with water magic which makes some nice steam Bloom is angry at aisha for saving her. So far 3 of the 5 girls are abrasive at best remember when people made characters likeable? Swear count: Shit 1 (but it doubles as the literal meaning because of flooded toilets) Swear count: Bitch 1 Ass 1 Taking away your teen's door is. Really shitty. Not almost burn down your house worthy but damn cheerleader mom I do not understand sleep shirts with buttons. That seems painful if you lie the wrong way? Her mom was seriously burnt by first magic usage that's a backstory Shit count +1 Main character aspect time: dormant fairy blood line? awfully strong magic for that. baby who died day after it was born and now she's here? ...I was going to say changeling thanks aisha A Barbaric practice loving hints at long term world lore Hell is a bad word for kids!! Cutting to headmistress and her secret passage after finding out bloom is secret pureblood? this really is a harry potter thing

edgelord offers giggly some booze, and says pussies twice because he's Edgey and does peer pressure Tera calls him out and knows he's a sad nerd in disguise not a 'badass' and he says she's 'three people in disguise' because fatphobia shit +1 arehole +1 tera. chokes out edgelord with a vine because she's had enough of this shit. good for her edgelord is Riv, and he lived

OBLIGATORY GOOGLE SEARCH FOR THE TERM CHANGELING REMEMBER BELLA'S VAMPIRE GOOGLE GOD I LOVE TEEN FANTASY AND THEIR INSTANCE ON GOOGLING COMMON FANTASY TERMS OH hey the lamp bloom brought with her is the one she was fixing at home that's a nice touch Stella bonds with Bloom about homesickness, and the takes a selfie Musa is a mind fairy. So she. Is a telepath with purple eye magic? Oh there's types of 'connections' Memory, thought (others but i am cut off from the lore) Stella did Something to someone who Talked To Her Man last year and now lent Bloom her teleportation ring to send her some because miss mentor really cares more about her shitty man then helping the girls she's in charge of First World- earth Old Cemetery? Very Sexy. and bloom sweetie don't leave a mystical gateway open, and how will you explain to your parents how you're back so fast Wait she's only 16? SO this really is some european college where that's a funny way of saying High School Fire guilt, bad feelings about life shattering revelations, better connection with mother. I gotta say I have low expectations of this show carrying the family connection through the rest of this. That conversation felt more like a Hey We Made These Movements Onto Other Stuff Now

Lighting choices are interesting, with green, orange and purple for creepy warehouse. THE Creepy Warehouse where she would sleep without her parent's knowledge wow right that GIRL DROPS THE DAMN RING AT THE FIRST SIGN OF burned one looked more alien than werewolf-y here Decent Horror movie looks, and dude stole her ring. Rude. Saved by the headmistress, and tera/aisha/musa are here to great her Stella can't be here though because she has to greet a half naked freshly showered sky because life is suffering and producers insist people like to see teens half naked (who. Who?) shit +1 and she dumped him. pity part of one and using it to try to get your bone on. HEY A SONG I KNOW. IT'S WHATSITCALLED FROM THE BAYONETTA COMMERCIALS WAY BACK WHEN. in for the kill la roux. I do wish netflix would either commit to telling you what song was playing or didn't tell you at all

Riv offers Beatrix a hit from his joint because what Is a Bad Kid hasn't changed in like 70 years Blowing pot smoke into someone's mouth isn't as sexy as ya'll seem to think it is Musa has cute sleep socks with little pom poms, and I love Tera's floral jammies Tera offers a bluetooth speaker so they can listen to music together Musa also calls out Tera's fake happiness this is the good shit character interaction i live for Musa Empath Mind Fairy 'somber indie music'

If you kill a burned one in the human world Something? Extra bad happens? So the headmistress knows Bloom's a changeling, and ohhh that's the last time a burned one was spotted. Is Rosalind the famed Monster Slayer the birth mother of Bloom? Tera text flirts with Giggly who IS NAMED DANE and has a thing for. Sky? Riv? I told you these boys all look the same to me so if it's a half naked pic on fairy insta i'm out of context clues. Crymeariv is the insta name that answers that. Is this the slow burn enemies to lover mlm i can't finish this sentence i don't care riv is a dick Stella and Sky are in a bed and she doesn't seem to have a top on so Implied sexy times? MYSTERIOUS HOODED AND ROBED FIGURE CROSSES THROUGH THE BARRIAR AND SHOOTS THE BURNED ONE WITH LIGHTNING MAGIC OH IT'S beatrix

alt-J – Adeline as an ending song

#fate the winx saga #text #commentary #hey tumblr thanks for deleting all my text because I resized this window #we're off to a great start #fate episode 1

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docstark · 3 years

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Ignite (Avengers/Bucky Barnes Fanfiction) Chapter 1 - Everyone Has a Beginning

Hello!

I am going to start off with a little sidenote before we get started here. I started this as a side blog so it is not my usual writings (I usually write kpop ff) but I have been feeling the Marvel writing vibes lately so thought that I would put myself out there with what I've had in my google docs so please be kind.

Also, I appreciate constructive critisism, it helps me write and mold my characters/ideas and I also just love hearing what you think. I'm a bit rusty right now with my writing and there may be times where things aren't consistant with updates cause I'm getting back into school soon, but here we go!

Sincerly, Doctor Stark

Oh, I almost forgot...

If you have seen SHIELD you know who AIDA is but in this story she is the equialent of FRIDAY.

Also you'll see that my OC has the same power as Quake/Daisy Johnson because I was like "WHAT POWER COULD MY CHARACTER POSSIBLY HAVE?!"

N/N = Nickname

Warnings: None...some language?

"AIDA, if anyone calls please just send it to voicemail...I really don't want to hear from the New York Times for the...." I stopped as I set my keys on my kitchen island, "AIDA?"

"Doctor Stark, it seems that my security protocols have been over run," AIDA finally replied, "I tried contacting you but it seems that he has also managed to cut into my communications."

By now I had noticed the figure that was sitting on my couch and I cautiously approached my living room like I was entering the room with a wild animal.

"Should I try to see if I can get through to Mr. Stark," AIDA questioned.

"No," I said as I finally made eye contact with the man on the couch, "He came all this way instead of fleaing the country immediatly...he has questions. You won't hurt me, will you Bucky?"

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

Let me back up for a moment and introduce myself, my name is Y/F/N M.I. Stark aka N/N Stark better known as Doctor Stark. For the longest time I was just Howard Stark’s genius daughter who people barely remembered existed. I rather liked it that way though, while Tony spent his time in California soaking up the sun, partying, sleeping around, getting kidnapped for 3 months, doing some work on the side, and now becoming Iron Man (have no idea how Pepper does it)...I spend my time in New York between working at Stark Tower and doing some side consulting in DC and some...other business that takes place during my consulting. But other than that, I tend to stay in the shadows. Well, I used to be able to stay in the shadows. Then of course Tony decided that be would become Iron Man and I become someone that everyone had questions for but they weren’t going to get answers from.

Currently I live in New York just outside the city which has its perks; I have a decent sized house customized for my own needs, a yard, a pool, a fence (iron with perimeter security), a gate for my driveway, and neighbors that I can chat with.

You know, feel normal even if it’s just for 5 minutes.

Downfall is the commute. But since I am one of the owners of the company, being a little late isn’t that big of a deal for me unless I had something planned.

Now, even though Tony was Iron Man I couldn’t blame him completely for all the calls I get now. Now after the powers that I now have had been seen during the whole drone fiasco at Stark Expo. And that is something that should really be explained...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ever heard of an Agent Peggy Carter? She’s a wonderful woman and a close family friend, so close in fact that growing up I started to call her Aunt Peggy; after my parents died and Tony just about completely separated himself from the fact that he had a little sister who was 15 and in college, I could always count on Aunt Peggy when I needed someone to talk to. But as we know, a good Agent keeps her secrets and only reveals them when the time is right.

By the time I turned 21 I had completed my PhD in biomedical engineering and electrical and computer science as well as a doctorate in biochemistry (7 years of college and sleepless nights, taking more classes than I probably should have, but I did it). At the time I was just getting myself acquainted to my new office space at Stark Tower (during that time I only occupied the 80th floor) and my research and projects at a slow pace.

“Don’t feel like you have to run,” Tony said only half paying attention to me, “Start slow, you know Stark Industries just as well as anyone, you’ll be running the tower before you know it.”

I had to admit that he was right; I had been in Stark Tower thousands of times it seemed but this was new for me. But then Aunt Peggy came along and gave me that extra push that I needed.

She had said she had an office warming gift for me; what I wasn’t expecting was the almost 30 boxes of old files, some dating as far back as 1939.

“Your father was a great man, a fool at times, but a great man,” she started, “Throughout his career as both the founder Stark Industries and of SHIELD, meticulously hid his files and personal work in different places. He once told me and Edwin Jarvis the location of all the information and who to give it to should something ever happen to him.”

“Shouldn’t this be going to Tony then?” I questioned, “If this is his work then-“

She held up her hand and I stopped, letting her continue. “I remember one very particular evening when your parents had invited me out for dinner. You had just gone off to college...his little girl.”

I snorted trying to imagine my father gushing over his kids like any regular dad would and in my head it just wasn’t happening.

“He didn’t show a lot of emotion because he wanted you two to be able to face the world as it is...but for him it was hard seeing his little girl off to college even earlier than most dads would. But we did have a conversation that leads to the elephant...or should I say boxes in the room,” she said as she walked over towards them, “He said that both his children were born protégées, both were born to carry on what he had started. However, while they both possess the talents to change the world, one is more so the leader and the other the backbone.”

She opened the box in front of her that had a large ‘(Your Initials)’ written on the front of it. “He said, First born or not, had he not felt like Tony had the potential to lead, you would have become the head of Stark Industries,” she said, pulling a book from the box and holding it out to me, “Your father believed that you are the backbone to the very company that you stand in today, which is why I am now giving you these, just as he asked...keep them safe.”

And in Aunt Peggy style she left me to soak in the information that she had just told me, and to move the boxes to a room that only I could get into. I spent every waking moment going through the boxes, sorting them, trying to find what had gone wrong to make him tuck certain things away.

I found some items that I wondered why he even kept. Was it a reminder not to mess with it? A way for someone to know what to do should they see one? I didn’t know but it was staying under lock and key, that was for sure.

The book that Aunt Peggy had given me was essentially a journal, maybe even a diary, whatever you want to call it, it held the detail of things that had gone wrong, things that had gone right, and the one that she had given me wasn’t the only one. In the same box with my initials were more journals, just like the rest and there were almost 3 exclusively for Project Rebirth…

I don’t know how long I went through the boxes labeled ‘Project Rebirth’. The story of Steve Rogers, of Captain America was regular bedtime story for me.

My mother once said I should stop asking him for Captain America stories and at 5 years old it was the first time I had really seen my father get defensive about anything.

“If she wants to hear those stories then I will tell them, Maria,” he said.

But reading how long he searched the frigid waters, hoping for a signal to find his friend, I now know the look I saw behind my father’s eyes...sadness and grief.

For a time I stepped away from my file room, my workload getting heavy, ideas that my father thought of being brought to life but in a new and better way. As my projects expanded, my need for space grew, and to everyone’s surprise I now took up 5 floors in just five years, and with lab assistants and AIDA to help with the calls, I got a chance to finally step back into my file room.

I had barely touched the files over the last 5 years, but what I can say is that there was one box that I was avoiding. It was a wooden box, nothing intricate about it. It almost reminded me of my mother’s old jewelry box, a gift passed down in her family. But this box was odd. There was no mention of it in any of the journals, no note, nothing.

So I had to take my life into my own hands at that point and I carefully opened the box. When I opened it I gave a sigh of relief. Carefully cradled in the box was a vile of purple liquid, and of course, now that I have gotten past a close call with a heart attack, I found a note...taped to the inside of the lid.

“Out of the many things that I have come across in my time...blah blah blah speech about his accolades...while Dr. Abraham Erskine created the Super Soldier Serum for Project Rebirth, it was not the only serum that he created. The Terrigenesis Serum was created to react with the body’s own DNA and essentially bring forward any supernatural abilities that might be laying dormant within someone, should they have them.”

I stopped and ran my hand through my hair. They didn’t know when to stop, did they?

“Should you find this one of 2 things can be done; hide it or take it to SHIELD and only if they know what A21K609S means, are they to know about what you have….I suggest you start with the top.”

For the longest time I hid the Terrigenesis Serum, we didn’t need someone with superpowers who might be unhinged, running around.

But after I had started consulting with SHIELD for a few years and when Tony got kidnapped...my emotions got the better of me.

And I went to Fury…

He knew what the code meant, he questioned me over and over again telling me that there was a chance that I could die.

“IF YOU DON'T HAVE SOMEONE DO IT I'LL DO IT MYSELF!” I remember screeching at him.

I was taken to a lab and strapped down on the bed, since no one knew how the serum would affect me, on the screen of one of the computers I saw that Fury had pulled up the old file that SHIELD had on the serum.

I remember seeing Natasha up in the observation room looking down at me. By then we had become friends and by the look on her face I could tell that she did not approve of this.

But it was too late now…

The purple liquid traveled into my body, making me feel like every vein and artery was being shredded as it circulated. I couldn’t even tell if I was screaming, I knew my mouth was open but I could hear nothing.

I felt hands on me as the lab assistants and doctor who had been permitted in the room tried to push me back flat on the bed but there was this loud bass like noise and the hands were gone and everything went black.

When I woke up a few hours later the only person in the room with me was Fury.

“What’s this thing around me?” I asked looking purple, glowing substance around me.

Fury took a pen and threw it at the substance and it bounced back. “Some sort of shield that surrounded you after the serum took hold in your body...I suggest you try and figure out how to make it go away.”

Closing my eyes I tried to tell the shield that I was fine, I was safe, and that it could come back to me. It took a good hour but I figured it out and finally Fury was able to undo the straps that were holding me down to the table.

“So what? I’m some sort of human shield?” I questioned as a lab assistant came into the room and cautiously lifted the head of the bed up so that I could sit up. I finally got a good look at the room; equipment was knock over and strewn around the room, there was broken glass in the observation windows, and there were cracks in the walls. I gulped upon seeing this. “Did I do all this?”

“Vibration manipulation,” he replied, “Congrats Doc, you created a small earthquake right here in this lab. Not to mention you scared the hell out of the SHIELD science division when they got blasted back from that force field. But either way...looks like we have some work to do.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Next Chapter>>

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thedistrictroleplay · 3 years

Photo

ID:

TRIGGER WARNINGS: drug mention tw

TIMELINE:

March 17, 1991- Nicholas is born as the 2nd son of Patrick and Elaine Vanderbilt. He joins older brother Peter, and will later be hounded by brother Christopher, as an extension of the New York Vanderbilt legacy of politicians.

Summer 2003-2008 - Nick is sent to summer camp, along with Peter, to Camp Walt Whitman in New Hampshire. When Christopher turns twelve, he also joins the annual tradition.

August 2008-June 2009- Nick long-distance dates Aly Acosta, whom he met at Camp Walt Whitman

June 2009- graduates high from St. Judes Prep in NYC and is Princeton bound. Nick and Aly amicably break up before going their separate ways to college.

August 2009-June 2013- attends Princeton University, ultimately graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Politics, with political economy emphasis.

September 2014- starts at Columbia Law school, alongside Aly who has moved to NYC to attend business school at Columbia. Nick plays hard and works harder, graduating #2 in his class.

sometime in 2015- Nick and Aly blackout and wake up married, courtesy of Nick’s fast-talking, lying his ass off to a judge who is friends with his family.

June 2016- Aly graduates and immediately begins traveling everywhere for work. Nick applies for an international dual-degree program that moves him to Paris for his last year of law school.

August 2016-October 2017- Nick lives and studies in Paris, both degrees conferred in October when he returns to the United States.

February 2018- takes the NYC bar exam.

March 2018-July 2018- UN internship in Vienna as legal affairs intern.

July 2018-January 2021- Ambassadorship in Belize. He checks out a little early after Aly’s abuela dies and he’s traveling back and forth; his attention is too divided and he knows it.

January 2021- moves to D.C. for international trade attorney job. Also begins working at as part-time assistant professor at Georgetown and, over the spring, settles into a home in the area.

BIOGRAPHY:

Nicholas Scott Vanderbilt, Nick to most, was born the second son of Patrick and Elaine “Lainey” Vanderbilt on the luckiest day in the land, two days late and establishing that he would do what he please and when he damn well wanted. The last name Vanderbilt, no matter the spelling, conjures an image. They’re practically a brand. Young Nicholas and his brothers, as well as his extensive network of cousins, were raised to enhance and support that image. It could be argued his grandfather, William, was a cult leader raising young men to take over the world. Every Vanderbilt son was pressured to be the best, to seek their interests as long as their interests were both academic and high-end, and to pursue a political career. Their last name opened those doors, whether it was a prep school Model UN, the right university, or a job. All they had to do was follow their grandfather’s every instruction and the world would be theirs. It was their birthright, after all. At least, that’s what they threw out there into time and space. Nick didn’t exactly agree, preferring to exploit those opportunities with hard work and clear-cut goals -- but he absolutely benefitted from the system and knew from an early age how to selectively keep his mouth shut and manipulate outcomes.

He wasn’t the typical middle child, acting out for attention. He did what was expected of him, but he always did it his way. He could talk his way into and out of trouble, and his energy left his parents exhausted. Just kidding, he wasn’t raised by his parents. They checked in, but he was raised by an army of well-educated and well-paid nannies and tutors. He was always smart enough to excel, always duty-bound enough to show up, and always rebellious enough to do it on his own terms. He grew to have a taste for expensive things, too pretentious to do low-class drugs or drive basic cars, but also with a few quirks. He didn’t quite have the temptations or shortcomings of his brothers – the constant need for women and the trouble they brought with them when any woman would do, the friends who lived off his money for their good time, the artistic side that barely masked an identity crisis. Instead, he was selectively social, even though it gave him the reputation of being an unequivocal snob, preferring indie bands and concerts, craft beer in off-the-beaten-path bars to escape haranguing of Page Six and other such nonsense, and other “hipster bullshit” according to his younger brother. He didn’t care. He wasn’t sure anyone had anything to offer him anyway. Maybe there was something to the ‘snobby’ part of his reputation. As he grew, he realized there was something to the ‘asshole’ part, too, and he never really felt like apologizing for it, so he didn’t.

His educational dossier reads like something in a leather-bound tome, planned out by his grandfather from the moment Nicholas blessed the world with his presence. The only exception is he went to Princeton for his undergraduate, instead of following the family footsteps to New Haven. Mostly, he did it for the sake of being different, not because he cared what the piece of paper said. He had bigger aspirations but made his mark by being slightly different than some of his cousins with their sights on Congress or being Governor. He still did all of his undergrad in politics, emphasis on political economy, and then went to law school at Columbia. While the name didn’t hurt anything, he was confident he got in based on the strength of his academic resume, and he graduated near the top of his class only because he let someone else have that likely last, shining accomplishment in their lives. He doesn’t even remember the woman’s name and he definitely didn’t sleep with her. Or did he? He won’t tell one way or the other, because his parents messed up when they didn’t make discretion part of his middle name. Part of his success was his selective ability to do what he wanted under the radar. His brothers and cousins were just a little too obvious with their exploits, and Nicholas was determined to be smarter and better than them.

Take, for example, the time he got married during year 2, while profoundly drunk in Atlantic City, to a girl from Miami he’d met at a bougie send-away summer camp. He had attended the camp every year from age twelve to age seventeen, and she was there the whole time. They had continued to date through their senior year of high school, in spite of the distance. In addition to liking her, he also liked the privacy of dating someone who didn’t live in the surprisingly-claustrophobic New York world. Either way, she wasn’t an unknown quantity by any means and his parents and grandparents liked her well enough, even if her mother was a bit much and bit too new-money-ambitious in her efforts to prove herself. With the wedding, the real problem was he used his silver tongue to lie to a judge, who blessed the wedding without a waiting period. It left him in a rough spot professionally, because he couldn’t get a divorce and admit to the lies without it being political suicide before he’d even graduated from law school. Aly had ambitions of her own and they split again, like they had during high school but different, and mostly went their own ways. She was young and wild, and he was all over Europe finishing a dual degree in something that was a mouthful to set him up for a career at the UN or as an ambassador, so they only connected sometimes. They’d had a youthful pact to marry each other at forty if they hadn’t married other people anyway, and not bothering with a divorce kept them away from the messy need for a prenup that hadn’t happened.

HIs parents thought the split went through years ago, fast enough Amy Acosta couldn’t start to model the Vanderbilt family jewels, and they’re very mistaken. However, he’s always been good at hiding where his heart truly lies, playing off emotions, sounding flip and sarcastic when things get tough. They think he’s back in the States to move forward, long past the one youthful indiscretion where they have only minimal details. The next planned step in the Vanderbilt legacy is marriage and children. After all, what is a legacy if it is not continued? Now that Nick isn’t just pushing thirty, but is actually there, it’s time for him to turn his attention there, at least in their estimation. It’s on him to continue their legacy because God only knows his brothers, take your pick of an artist or a consummate playboy, are never going to give his parents and grandfather anything to be proud of.

So it’s up to him. After quietly supporting Aly through some hard times, quitting his hard-won job in the embassy in Belize was easy. After his family’s not-so-subtle attempts to force him home to settle down, moving to the District was easy, because he can still progress his career. He doesn’t want to be around the Vanderbilts any more than he has to these days anyway, so New York wasn’t an option. And, you know, maybe becoming an esteemed law professor or legal scholar isn’t the worst idea. It allows a certain amount of flexibility and conjures up a whole new image, even if it’s one he hasn’t considered before.

Nick is written by M.

#drug mention tw #district character bio.#c; nick vanderbilt #scott eastwood fc #pronouns; he/him #residence; upper northwest #writer; m

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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Hmm Im just drinking some Respect Rhodey Juice tonight and was wondering if you would write smth about his journey/struggles of life and ppl who doubt him (and then eat their words when he looks fabulous and kicks ass)

A lot of people know Tony Stark’s story. They know that he considers Rhodey to be the best person in the world. He was in ROTC training, Tony made fun of him, but they ended up bonding over engineering and some inside joke at MIT.

They don’t know the whole story.

So here it is.

Rhodey grew up in a relatively nice household in Philadelphia. He still considers some aspect of that to be home, no matter if he hasn’t lived there since high school.

He remembers his dad’s low humming on Sunday mornings when he was a kid, the way he smiled at him.

“Hey Jimmy,” he would say quietly. “Wanna surprise mama with breakfast?”

Mama acted surprised every single time, even if every Sunday she got breakfast on a tray. Rhodey would grin brightly up at his mother and clamber into her bed to steal the “extra” piece of bacon.

(His dad cooked three slices, and saved one for his son.)

He remembers that his sister Jeannette was born when he was four years old, and he did not appreciate having a sister.

“You have to be a good role model for her, sugar,” Mama had told him. She was tired from the hospital, and had handed Jeannette to Dad. “She needs a good big brother.”

Rhodey doesn’t get why his mom is so insistent on that, having a good big brother. It isn’t until he’s eight and Mama’s own older brother comes asking for a car or some money for his new business that he understands that Mama had a very different sort of life. One that they don’t talk about.

So he grabs his dollar and walks his sister to the corner store and gets her a popsicle that dribbles down her chin. She got watermelon flavor.

“Thanks Jim,” Jeannette says, grinning. “You’re the best!”

He vows to always be the best for her.

Always.

Including an academic example. He scores excellently on his tests, enough to catch the notice of the private education institution. They send a nice lady to talk to Mama and Dad about the possibility of him learning there instead of his regular school.

They agree. Rhodey doesn’t exactly want to go, but gets that this is an opportunity.

The school is nearly all-white. That’s...weird. They look at him differently, ask weird questions. He keeps his head down, focuses on studying. He doesn’t realize it yet, but these people have never had to worry about their race.

He’s still a good student. He’s in the top ten, and people whisper and say that it’s because he’s black.

He stares them down and asks if they have a problem with the color of skin he has.

They stammer out a no, but he knows. He knows that they think that he’s gotten all sorts of advantages, and some will never believe that his success is merit-based. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he comes home angry.

“Be better,” Mama tells him, smoothing her hand over his face. “You know you’re better than what they always say. You just gotta keep going.”

It’s around this time that they go to the Franklin Institute.

And it’s there that he gets introduced into flight travel and falls in love.

He wants to know how planes work. He wants to know why they use some materials but not others, how it works.

“You could go into the Air Force,” his dad chuckles one night.

“Are you gonna be a pilot?” Jeannette asks, looking up from her toys. “You’d be a good pilot.”

“Maybe,” he tells them. “Maybe.”

The military is his best bet.

Come high school, he starts training immediately. He’s a good kid, all things considered. He follows orders well, is intuitive to what comes next, and his officer lets other officials know that this kid will be a good guy.

Assuming, of course, that they let Rhodey into a position of power. He wants to be a good pilot, he wants to have a good job that’s kind of safe.

He also needs to figure out college. He knows he needs a college degree, needs something to show that he is who he says he is.

Rhodey gets a full ride to MIT. His dad sighs and looks at him.

“Son, I need to talk to you...”

“I know I can do this,” Rhodey says determinedly. “I know that I can do a college education, I know I can prove others wrong, and--”

“I know that,” his father says. “But really...Boston?”

His mother laughs for a long while, and makes her husband promise to visit their son, even if they do have to voluntarily go to Boston.

When they move him in, they’re greeted with one Tony Stark chasing after a robot who has grabbed a broom and is wreaking havoc in the apartment.

“Hi,” Tony heaves. “Sorry to be meeting you all like this, I sincerely did mean to be presentable. I’m Tony Stark, nice to meet you.”

His parents are scared of Tony, all things considered. He’s a kid with too much influence on the world. If he says one wrong thing...Rhodey’s finished.

Rhodey holds no such fear because Tony is standing in mismatched socks and chasing after a robot.

When his parents leave and his teenage sister actually gives him a hug, he’s left in the room.

“You want pizza?” Tony asks, blinking. “I’m ordering a pizza.”

They sit together and eat pizza that has too much grease on it, and Tony asks all about Philadelphia. He’s never traveled there, and wants to know if people really do run up the stairs like in the movie Rocky.

Rhodey answers yes, unfortunately, a lot of tourists do that. Tony laughs.

He talks about New York, everything that people get wrong or right about it.

Then they decide to compare class schedules, and it turns out they have a lot of the same classes.

Rhodey likes being friends with Tony. He’s an easy guy to fall into friendship with. He’s not expecting anything from him, just that he likes some food and tells Tony to knock it off if he’s being annoying.

ROTC training is still going well. Tony makes fun of the uniform and teases him, but also helps make sure his pants are ironed in time.

“I swear to god if I told anyone you were an Iron-kinda-Man, they wouldn’t believe me,” Rhodey teases him. “Thanks.”

He presses a kiss to Tony’s forehead before he rushes out.

The Air Force loves him. He’s in aerodynamic engineering, getting the best grades in the class, and has proven time and time again to be a natural-born leader. His very presence commands attention, and the guys around him respect him quite well.

He’s offered a position after graduation to become a pilot.

He’s flying high.

His parents, of course, are proud. They host a party with all their friends and family, and Rhodey truly feels like this is it.

Of course, it’s not easy. Nothing ever is. He has to command men and women, go against what others say. He was one of the first in his unit to advocate for women to be part of the team.

“They’re too emotional,” Kennick had remarked.

“And just who nearly cried because their football team didn’t make it to the Superbowl?” Rhodey asks him. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t your wife or daughter, Kennick.”

The rest of the team howls in laughter, and Rhodey smiles to himself.

Tony is still his best friend. They call each other often, although Tony is busier with the company now. Rhodey acts as a sort of liaison for the negotiations between SI and the military.

Tony sends him care packages that host a wild variety of things, ranging from quite the bottle of Scotch to four different McDonald’s Happy Meal Toys.

“Why the toys?”

“Kids keep leaving them in the SI building after their school tour. I have to do something with them.”

(Rhodey takes pictures of them around the base and nearly compromises a secret mission.

It’s worth it.)

But Rhodey’s life is good. It has its ups and downs, but he got what he wanted. And when he sees the other kids from his school who looked at him weird, the teachers who told him to “aim a bit lower” than his goals, he smiles.

He especially likes to smile to himself when he wakes up next to Tony, who smiles at him like he has all the stars in the world.

#lovelyirony writes #the biography of one james rhodes #ironhusbands #of course i had to write it in #rhodeytony #rhodey #colonel rhodes #war machine #jeannette rhodes #rhodey is a GOOD BROTHER #i like this a lot #also i hope this sounds okay

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akp-1327 · 3 years

Text

dear diary // chapter eight

Hellooo! I’m alive, I swear! Just wanted to thank y’all for all the support and patience. I know I fell out of the loop with updates, though I absolutely love that you all like this series and are sticking around for it! It seriously makes my day to receive such kind feedback! Anyway, enough from me. Here’s the next chapter! <3

As always, find the series masterlist here (Tumblr) or here (AO3) to catch up! :)

Pairings: Ajay Bhandari x f!MC (Charlotte Parker), Skye Crandall x f!OC (Leila Maciel)

Word Count: 5.3k

(*) Warnings: mentions of divorce and minor injuries (nothing graphic)

(A cynical Ajay is always a great time, right? ;)

Holy crap.

It was wild being back here.

Did I feel like an alien right when I walked through the door? Absolutely. The whole house just felt different. It lost the usual homey feeling and, instead, felt foreign. The squeak of the wooden steps beneath my feet didn’t even sound the same as it used to.

Mohit and I started to make our way upstairs after Charlotte retreated to the bathroom, the door closing softly behind her. A rare silence fell between us and, finally, I was able--

"Oh my god, Ajay. You brought a girl over. A girl who isn’t your girlfriend?" Mohit teased, poking my arm as we walked down a short hallway.

So much for silence. Oh, and when Mo said that? I blushed. Profusely. Still, I had to put on a neutral face and hope that my sudden sheepishness didn’t shine through.

"Since when are you an expert on romance?" I quipped, rolling my eyes before I shot him a teasing look. "Do you have something to tell me, Mo? Maybe something about a future sibling-in-law?"

Mohit instantly reeled back in disgust. "Eww! No!"

God, I missed this kid. I ruffled his hair and looked around at the room we wound up in. It had been my dad’s old office, but since the divorce, it just sat there useless (well, so I thought?). All of his stuff stayed because he had to downsize for that stupid little Manhattan apartment, so I guess Mohit took it over. It was littered with soda cans and empty candy wrappers, but smelt like the clean linen Febreeze that Amma spritzed around the house on an everyday basis.

It's been too, too long since I’ve been here. I knew I should’ve been here the past few summers.

I shook the recurring thoughts away and turned back to my brother, who seemingly grew a whole two feet since I last saw him. Crazy.

"It's okay to have a crush, Mo. There's no sense in hiding it. You know I'll find out eventually."

(I guess I could say the same to myself.)

Dismissing the subject entirely with a shake of his head, Mohit let out a dramatic sigh. "What're we doing up here, again? Hiding from Amma and Jim?"

That was such a villainous way to put it. Obviously, though, he was right. I didn't want to see Jim all lovey-dovey with Amma. Now that was gross.

"Just Jim," I responded, "which is why you will go down and greet him first when the time comes. I need to talk to Charlotte before I say hello."

Mohit wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, I I bet. Through some smooooches--”

I mercilessly smacked him upside the head...but, out of some decency, it wasn’t as hard as I wanted it to be.

"Oh dear god, Mo. We aren't going to do anything but talk."

"Hmm," Mohit hummed, still sounding suspicious, "if you say so..."

Just then, before I could respond, Charlotte appeared at the doorway with her arms folded. "Hey. I'm not interrupting any guy talk, am I?"

Mohit laughed, but I chose to ignore it.

"No, you're not interrupting anything. Come on in." I smiled. I hoped my voice sounded normal because I couldn’t seem to get her out of my head. Thanks, Mohit.

Oh my god...so much for keeping my distance from her...

She walked in and instantly made herself at home on the couch. I mindlessly followed and sat on the opposite side while Mohit (disappointingly) squished himself in the middle with a proud grin.

"Now what?" Charlotte asked, her eyes flitting over to mine. They were such a beautiful blue that reminded me of the ocean. Though, before I could drown myself in the feeling and become overwhelmed, I looked at Mohit's ponder instead.

"It won't take much time for Amma to tell Jim that Ajay's here, so I don’t think we’ll have time to do much." Mohit shrugged. "Well, depending how long you guys stay."

I looked back up to Charlotte, willing myself to hold her gaze this time around before her eyes met mine again. My stomach tied in on itself with just a glance, and that was just due to her eyes. When she smiled, my heart started to race. Pound, even. It was so loud in my ears that I could barely hear her response.

"That’s okay. What about that comic collection you were talking about earlier?" Charlotte grinned, sending me a discreet wink that left me stumbling over my thoughts even further.

"Yeah! You absolutely need to see--" Mohit rambled before I clamped a hand over his mouth. He was not going to interrupt this moment for me with another one of his obsessions. Her eyes were still on mine, her gaze soft. It was such a perfect moment.

"Let's do it." I said, not looking away from her. In result, I watched her face redden a bit and her smile brighten, if that was even possible.

As much as I loathed Mohit’s (extremely boring and stereotypical) comics, I guess I could tolerate them for a little while. So long as Jim doesn’t know I’m here, we were alright.

Mohit finished up explaining his entire suitcase of comics before I heard a faint squeak from the stairs. I decided to lean against the threshold of Mo’s room while he and Charlotte geeked out over his Batman collection, but I immediately regretted the choice when I felt a small hand on my shoulder.

“Ajay, sweetie,” Amma whispered, “I told Jim that you’re here.”

My entire frame tensed at his name, but I held in my scowl. Instead, I let out a heavy sigh that caught both Mohit and Charlotte’s attention.

“He’ll be downstairs waiting when you three are ready. He’s watching a game of cricket.” Amma smiled before making her way back downstairs.

“I’m missing it! Jim, you liar!” Mohit shouted before sprinting out of the room and thundering down the stairs. You could hear a faint thump and a brief yelp at the bottom.

For moments after that, it was silent in Mo’s room, though my mind raced with all of the possibilities. All of the worries. All of the fears.

Admittedly, I’ve had these looming fears for years, but they’d gone dormant the more time I spent away from home. I’ve always thought that I was the one who caused all of this turmoil within my family because of my college expenses - which, to say, is a lot of green - and that I could’ve avoided it entirely. Amma would never say that I’d caused them immense debt to my face, and neither would Dad.

But, to be real, they didn’t have to.

I can distinctly remember the night before they broke the news. It was during the last few weeks of high school and I had been doing math homework angrily. I was stressed and because math was a spawn from the deepest depths of hell, it wasn’t something I wanted to spend my time on. My pencil bolted across the paper, sometimes squeaking with how hard I’d been writing. After a while, though, I realized the squeaks were turning into coherent words.

Yelling, coming from the kitchen downstairs.

It was maddening to hear, so I tried to tune it out as usual, but then I heard the three familiar words come up: “the college money”.

I dangerously decided to bring it up at breakfast the next morning and apologize; it felt like the only thing I could do. Amma swooped in to shoo away the apology seconds after it tumbled out of my mouth...while Dad only sat there. She was the one who encouraged me while my dad sat on the sidelines, like always.

That’s really when I realized that my mom was tired of it. Tired of being the only one to give a damn about anything happening in our lives. So she put an end to her problem and filed for divorce. They told me only a few minutes after I’d brought up their fight.

To this day, I feel like I was the hearth. The origins of it all, only because of my desperation for success. To become someone who left a small stamp on this chaotic world.

“Ajay?” Charlotte asked from across the room, snapping me from my thoughts. Her eyes were slanted with concern, and the emotion only grew when I didn’t respond.

With Charlotte around, I felt like I could be my own person. Not be the person who’s parents divorced because of him and not the snarky director. I could be myself with her without having to feel any guilt or shame. This is why I wanted to keep her close; she was the only person who understood what it felt like to be judged. To be an outsider. To be distinctly different from everyone else.

She was starting to seem like my other half, and as days passed, I noticed that the feeling was only growing stronger. That scared me to death, especially if she decided to do the show. Then I’d really have to call this off and protect myself.

I’m not going to put myself through hell again.

“Ajay,” Charlotte shouted, her eyes now amused. I cleared my throat and shook my head to clear the thoughts away. “You okay?”

With a quick nod and an extremely unconvincing smile, I gestured for her to follow me out the door.

“Just fine, um,” I said, my racing thoughts never slowing. Forming coherent sentences with a jumbled-up brain never had a good outcome, so I let my thoughts organize themselves for a moment before responding. “Let’s go downstairs before Amma nags us again.”

She nodded and hesitantly followed me out of the room. I tried to relax with a deep breath, but that just felt like suffocation. So I did not do that again in fear that I’d pass out or embarrass myself even more.

Once we got downstairs, I felt a rush of panic course through my veins. Charlotte noticed my missing presence and stopped.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked softly, worry flooding her eyes as she turned to me. I searched them for the longest second of my life, and finally, let myself take an actual deep breath.

“Yeah, sorry.” I sighed, shaking my head, “I just really don’t want to do this. It’s...”

Charlotte lit up with a small smile for a moment before it disappeared. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.” Then, without any semblance of warning, she quickly wrapped her arms around me and held me in a tight embrace.

This felt nice. My arms found their way around her small frame after a few seconds, trying to reciprocate the vice-like grip she had around me. I felt her head rest against my shoulder, and for a moment, this felt...natural. It was the same feeling as holding her hand for the first time back at the party.

“You’ll be alright. Just remember to breathe and you should make it through without a scratch,” Charlotte smiled before pulling away slowly, “but you’re making them wait, old man. C’mon.”

I missed her warmth, and I think it showed. She laughed, stepping into my space again. The sound put me at ease, so much so that I lost control of myself and glanced down at her lips. They were a velvety pink, layered in a thin veil of lip balm. From this close, I could tell it was infused with peppermint.

God, I am a sucker for anything peppermint--

No, I thought to myself, you can’t do that. You shouldn’t hurt yourself more. She doesn’t feel the same!

With great strength, I stepped away entirely. Charlotte looked confused, so I gave her a relaxed smile to show that I was okay. It was weird to have someone other than Rory to help calm me down - it was alleviating to be able to confide in someone else.

“Right, because we’re missing a cricket game. I’m devastated!” I sighed, a slight humorous twinge in my tone. I could tell she picked it up when she giggled and slipped her hand into mine.

“You are such a dork...” Charlotte teased, shaking her head and squeezing my hand reassuringly. Every time she held my hand, my heart would stop. Of course this time wasn’t an exception, but in this moment, I squeezed back.

It’d been at least fifteen minutes since Charlotte and I silently slipped into the living room. We stood very close to the exit in case I had to make a mad dash to the car.

Jim was completely oblivious to our presence before Amma discreetly took the remote off the coffee table and paused the game of cricket. My heart dropped when he looked to my mom...then, following her gaze, looked right into my eyes.

All the feelings I’d pushed down years ago - disappointment, guilt, anger, confusion - started to emerge the longer our gazes were tied. However, this seemed to be a one way street of thought. He smiled at god-awful smile at me, the same one that probably lured my mom in. Disgusting.

“Well, if it isn’t the college boy,” Jim grinned, standing and making his way over to stand in front of me and holding his fist out, “how’s it going?”

Swallowing my pride (well, er, attitude), I gave Jim a tight-lipped smile, trying to hide my grimace as I forced my fist to bump his. It was really bad acting on my part, but I don’t think he had enough of a functioning brain cell to notice.

“It’s been...going okay, I guess.” I said, willing my teeth to not grit against each other; that’d make the entire situation worse. Amma’s eyes had already caught mine over his shoulder and she had shaken her head disapprovingly at my attitude. Jim, however, was completely oblivious to the action and turned his attention to Charlotte instead.

“You must be Charlotte,” Jim said, his usual warm smile brightening and his hand extending for her to shake. It made me want to hurl. “Shruti told me that you’re one of Ajay’s friends from NYU?”

Charlotte, thankfully, was her normal kind self as she shook his hand. “That’s me! Nice to meet you, Jim. Ajay’s said nothing but good things about you.”

She caught my eye and gave the slightest wink.

“Oh! Well, that’s nice to hear. Why don’t you guys come and sit? There’s plenty of couch space to go around...”

Amma gestured to the small loveseat-like sofa on the far side of the living room, and of course, gave me her all-too-familiar teasing eyes. She really was looking to embarrass me.

Before I had the chance to retaliate, Charlotte walked over and sat politely. She waved me over, and so with a sigh, I sat next to her with a now-familiar heat in my cheeks. It wasn’t the fact that I was sitting next to her that made me coy, but rather that I was in my childhood house with a man - who wasn’t my father - now cuddling my mother. It was weird and made me beyond uncomfortable, and then add in how the girl I liked was seated right next to me...I was just a mess.

“So, um, I heard that the two of you are getting married?” Charlotte piped up after a few moments of silence. My eyes met Mo’s across the room and I could immediately tell he was tuning out of the conversation. Honestly, the idea didn’t sound so bad.

“March seventh of next year!” Amma beamed, showing off her left hand. A small ring on her ring finger sparkled in the light, and I could just feel a tsunami of hurt crash right over me. I don’t care how long it’s been since the divorce. It still hurts as much as it did a few years ago.

“That’s exciting. How has the planning been going?” Charlotte asked, trying to keep the conversation light; her voice was soft, but it was serious. It was missing her usual preppy tone, which to say, was odd.

I heard Amma talking, but I decided to tune out of the conversation.

Of course I was happy for Amma. I was glad that she found her happiness and that she could find someone else. My problem, however, was what she settled for. Jim wasn’t anything interesting. A dentist that enjoyed the outdoors and European sports - so what? Amma has always been an adventurous and bold woman, so why’d she decide on someone so...bland? My dad was an adrenaline junkie that won her heart with a simple motorcycle ride into the sunset.

How do you go from that...to Jim? In what world does that make sense?

In my opinion, no one likes the dentist and you’d have to be crazy to go hiking by a will of choice. Mother Nature was one hell of a force to mess with, and to put your life in her unpredictable hands willingly? You’d have to be danger levels of psycho.

Plus, it didn’t help that Amma and Jim got together only a month after the divorce. It was like the crappy cake holding the crappy frosting and crappy toppings.

I hated, and still do hate, their relationship with a burning passion.

After the thoughts and discussions of their wedding (more so the thought of my mom officially being his) the house felt stuffy. The walls looked like they were closing in on me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I needed to get out. Fast.

Why didn’t I stay by the door...

“...and then the venue’s gardens. Oh, they are to die for! Just div--” Amma sighed wistfully before I cleared my throat, catching everyone’s attention.

“Um, sorry to cut this whole reunion short, but Charlotte and I have some stuff to do back at school.” I said, keeping any emotion out of my voice. Amma knew me too well; she’d be able to sniff out that lie like a bloodhound if I added any sort of emotional flair.

Charlotte’s eyes scanned mine for a brief second before she nodded. “We were gonna go shopping at a store outside the city to get some dorm stuff.”

I guess she really is good at improv. Huh. Well, in any case, the white lie worked.

“Oh! Alright. Don’t let us keep you. Traffic is terrible at this time of day,” Amma rambled, quickly standing and immediately going to the kitchen. The rustling of plastic and the closing of cabinets was all I heard before she came back into the living room. “Take some of these off of our hands!”

She handed us a Tupperware container filled with some of my favorites: Italian Pizzelle cookies. Amma always had them stocked in the house for some odd reason.

“Dammit, Amma.” I said, trying my hardest not to let my smile get too big. “You give me these every single time I visit!”

Her arms wrapped around me tightly, “I do. And I want that container back, so visit soon.” Amma’s eyes flicked over to where Charlotte was, laughing along with Mohit about what I could only presume to be comics, “Oh, and bring her, too.”

“Oh my god--” I groaned in exasperation, rolling my eyes when she lightly hit me from where her hand was on my shoulder.

“I can see that look in your eye, Ajay. Don’t even bother acting like you don’t like her, it’ll be a waste of your time.”

Sigh. She has a point.

“Instead...maybe you could make a move?” Amma whispered, pulling away and slightly angling her head in Charlotte’s direction. “I can see the same look in her eyes, too.”

Reflexively, I looked over at Charlotte again and found her staring at me. When our eyes met, she hurriedly looked away while a faint rose tinted her cheeks, her hands coming up to tighten her ponytail in almost an embarrassed manner.

Adorable.

“Okay, go,” Amma sighed, “say goodbye to Jim, otherwise those cookies aren’t leaving this house.”

With a nod and an invisible eye roll, I strolled over to Jim and held out my hand. It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but it was a lot better than him smushing me against his chest in a bear hug. The thought alone gave me chills.

“It was nice seeing you today, sport,” Jim said, gripping my hand firmly and shaking it, “come over again soon. We miss having you around here, especially Mohit.”

“Uh, right. Nice seeing you too, Jim.”

No, no it was not.

Before I could even step away from Jim, Mohit barreled right into me.

“You need to come over more often,” Mohit whined, “next time I see you I should crash at your dorm!”

“No, no,” I immediately responded, still returning his embrace. “I’ll be over soon, Mo. I promise.”

With that, he let go and turned to give Charlotte a hug. “See you soon, Charlotte!”

Charlotte gave a giggle, her cheeks still recovering from her blush only a few moments before. She happily returned his hug.

“See you soon, Mohit. Behave, or the comics get it.” Charlotte said before they both broke out into another fit of giggles. Jeez, maybe introducing these two was a bad idea. Wait, correction; introducing these two was a bad idea.

Now that they’d bonded and actually get along...what am I going to do?

The ride back was quiet, save for a small periodic hum from Charlotte as she watched the scenery outside the passenger window. It was a comfortable silence, but I could tell she had something on her mind.

“You’re eerily quiet,” I said softly, keeping my eyes on the road, “what’s up?”

I knew I went too far, dammit! I’m such a--

“Well, Leila texted me earlier...” Charlotte sighed. From the corner of my eye, I watched her shrink back into her seat. “She apologized and mentioned that something’s up with Skye.”

“That only took a million years.” I said, trying to make her smile. Thankfully she took it as intended and laughed lightly.

“Tell me about it. Anyway. I didn’t want to tell you back at your mom’s house. You looked...tense. I didn’t want to trouble you further.”

Tense was one word for it, for sure. Also, why is she the sweetest?

“My mom’s boyfriend, er, fiancé has never been my favorite person. He tries too hard when he talks to me, makes me feel like I’m not really welcome at home anymore.” I said, careful to not reveal too much. She does have good advice, but she’s already going through so much turmoil herself...

“That’s terrible.” Charlotte frowned, readjusting herself to sit properly in her seat. I could tell she turned towards me as she did so. “He seems nice, but you obviously have more experience with him, so why is he so bad?”

Of course she’d want to know. She was curious in that way.

“He’s a dentist, likes boring sports, enjoys the outdoors...” I grumbled, my hand mindlessly tightening on the wheel, “he took my dad’s place, though he’s just so bland and boring. It irks me.”

“Wait, so you don’t like him because he’s boring? Out of all of the qualities in a person to hate, you chose boring?” Charlotte squeaked, her voice going up an octave out of pure curiosity and slight humor. “Would you rather her date a random, stuck-up billionaire from...like...Hollywood? With a name like Blaze or Lazer, maybe even Blazer?”

“I don’t think the odds of--”

“Oh my god, Ajay, just answer the question!” Charlotte laughed. I rolled my eyes fondly and sighed.

“Probably not.” I answered, arching a questioning eyebrow at her. “Materialistic people are usually assholes unless you schmooze them and give them opportunities to get even more money.”

“Exactly.” Charlotte smiled. “So I think Jim is an alright. It’s obvious that you don’t agree, though.”

I knew she was right. I knew I’d been cornered and that it was almost impossible to prove another opposing point. Just by this information, anyone could tell that she knew what she was doing. Was I even supposed to act annoyed? I was impressed, and I didn’t know how I could compliment her on it without coming off too strong.

Why are feelings so complicated...

Why can’t I just work up the courage--

Why did she have to be a theater kid...

“Yeah, it was that way for a while.” Was all I could say; the phrase was brief, but the sentiment was the same. I appreciated that she gave me another perspective.

It was silent after that; nothing awkward, but nothing too comfortable.

“What’s been going on with you?” I asked, willing my voice to stay steady. That sounded so awkward...

“What about?” Charlotte hummed, not seeming to notice my nerves. “Like, with Leila, or Skye, or the diner, or--”

“The diner,” I said, calmer this time, “have you heard anything?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her shake her head briefly.

“Absolutely nothing, but if I had to guess, things haven’t changed. My mom said she’d call me with updates, but I haven’t gotten any calls or texts from her in a while. It’s weird.”

I nodded, trying to focus on the road ahead. This was usually an easy task, but with Charlotte next to me, it became...almost impossible. Infuriatingly so. With Kelly, I could control this. She didn’t make me blush as much. She didn’t make me smile or laugh as much. She didn’t make me this nervous.

Just when I thought I knew what romance was, after Kelly, the rug just had to be ripped out from beneath me. This only proves how difficult life can be.

I had a high tolerance for everyday annoyances. Having a composure of steel was in a director’s job description. I had to put up with nonsense and chaos on a daily basis...but I’ve never had my patience tested quite like this.

“Now you’re too quiet.” Charlotte teased. I felt her poke my arm. “Spill.”

My eyes flitted over to check my mirrors; rear, left, right. Though, when I looked to the right, I caught Charlotte studying me intently, her eyes slightly narrowed and her lips pursed.

“I’m just thinking,” I sighed.

About you.

“About anything interesting?”

You.

“Not really, no. Just...school.”

Liar.

We got back to Lafayette and, to me, the air felt even heavier. It was still hard to breathe, especially now that I was thinking of the visit and Charlotte. It was a deadly combo.

Even the Tupperware container of cookies in my hands felt heavy.

“Thank you for inviting me today,” Charlotte said, slowly walking towards a staircase. I could feel her familiar warmth that’d been next to me all morning fade and immediately wished for it to come back. Though, the more I wished, the further away she ventured.

“Thank you for coming with. It was...really nice to have someone there with me.” I said, leading her to blush a bit under my gaze.

“Of course! I hope you get everything sorted out soon. In the meantime, feel free to talk with me. I’m here for you.” Charlotte grinned, sticking her hands in her pockets after she gave me a quick wave. In response, I nodded; leading her to take off. “See you later!”

“Bye,” I said quietly, though she was already too far away to hear me. She disappeared up the stairs a few moments later.

Time passed; I stood there for a good five minutes before I was bumped into from behind. God, the audacity of some people...

“Oh, sorry,” A familiar voice piped from next to me. I was adjusting my glasses on my nose when I met their eyes - her eyes - and my eyes widened in both surprise and concern.

“Skye?”

Her eyes were red and puffy. Along with that, she had a few faint, purple bruises forming just along her jawline and on the right side of her nose. Before I could find any other injuries, she looked away. I realized she was carrying a large garment bag in her arms.

“Hey, Ajay. Uh, I...gotta...go.” Skye rushed, her voice unsteady with emotion. Out of habit, I called out her name again as she made a beeline towards the same staircase Charlotte disappeared into.

“Wait, no, Skye--”

But she was already gone, too.

It was only two in the afternoon. The couple days of freedom before classes started...and I was lying here alone, deep in thought.

Was Jim really such a bad guy? Every cell in my body screamed at me to say yes, but in the back of my mind, I found myself saying no. He made my mother happy; maybe not so much with Mohit or I, but I guess that’ll have to come with time.

Reconsidering this situation never really passed my mind. For the past three years, the sentiment of “Amma and Jim, sitting in a tree” was extremely nauseating and unnerving. I felt obligated to dislike him, just like everything else in my life. Obligation, guilt, you name it. It probably crossed my mind throughout the first couple months of their relationship.

And if Charlotte hadn’t been there, who knows what would’ve happened. Even with her there I was too scared to face the thought of their wedding.

I grumbled, rolling over to bury my face in my pillow in an attempt to hide from everything.

“Why me?” I groaned, clutching my comforter tightly in my fists. With thoughts like these, I was in for a long afternoon.

September 5th, 2020

Dear Diary...

Damn, do I have an entry for today.

Firstly. I visited Amma, Mohit, and Jim back in Brooklyn today. I’d been holding out on that trip for a while; long enough to make myself feel unwelcome with each passing day.

The trip was mediocre, to say the least. I thought it’d allow my guilty mind to feel better and focus on other things, but I guess I was wrong. I’m still pondering over the fact that I actually abandoned them for a year. So, so much happened within that time; it’s hard to comprehend, all that new information...

What does that exactly entail, you ask? Well, then. Amma and Jim are getting married in March and Mo is actually growing up. It’s crazy to think that his birthday is in a few short weeks...

This actually leads swiftly into the next topic up for discussion. Charlotte. I know that I like her. There’s no denying that anymore. I would be all for confessing and asking her out properly, but she still hasn’t decided whether or not she’s getting involved with the show. Of course, though, this is completely reasonable - I’m not someone to tell her to rush her decisions or pressure her into something she doesn’t want - but at the same time, I want to know now instead of later. I need to prepare myself for what I’d face.

I’m almost to the point where I’m tired of waiting. I want to tell her how I feel, now that I know how to put my emotions into words. There were so many times today where she’d make me lose my focus. Make me nervous. Make me do all these uncharacteristic things that, in my opinion, would scare the hell out of people who know me for...me (AKA as a strict and uptight director and, sometimes, an emotionless blob).

If only theater wasn’t a thing. Then I’d actually have a fair chance. I try to tell my stupid brain that she isn’t like Kelly. I want to get over that fear; it’s piteous in a way that makes me second guess myself. My problem, though, is that I don’t know how.

Alright. My hand is starting to cramp. I’ll give updates as they come, but don’t expect anything grand. I want to have hope, but that’s pretty hard with all of my experiences with romance.

Ajay

#high school story class act #ajay bhandari #mc: charlotte parker #oc: leila maciel #skye crandall #ajay x mc #skye x oc #warning: mentions of divorce and minor injuries #chapter eight! 🥳

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stonerbughead · 4 years

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Maria watches friday night lights (#24)

I’m here! The final season! 5x01, here we go.

“Don’t you just love summer in Texas? 7 am and I’m already sweating like a whore in church.” This, set against the montage of summer in Dillon with trash pick up and kids running through a sprinkler, is true perfection.

let’s dive in, under the cut:

Lol is that Tinker driving alongside Vince and Luke running? Hilarious/wholesome image.

Buddy as a radio host really truly makes so much sense. Why didn’t they think of this sooner lmao

Oh my babe Tim!! on the inside but he’s getting out in three months, ok I see that

“I kinda coached you.” “Coach was my coach, billy.” Lmao “You could be a little more enthusiastic.” “Sorry, Billy, but im in prison.” Uh yeah. read the room, Billy!

Oh Tim, my poor babe 😭 wants to be visited *less* by his brother and friend. Abolish prisonssssss ugh

Oh Tami coming into the first staff meeting and immediately proposing the rest of the staff do more work probably isn’t the most strategic choice lol

This reminds me a lot of teacher meetings in season 4 of The Wire, with all of the staff talking about particular problem children the system is failing. And oh boy they all hate a teenage girl named Epyck. “I just wish she wouldn’t come into school.” Uh you should not be a teacher, miss! But also: you all need more resources.

Jess and Vince are as cute as I knew they’d be omg. “I thought you might need help with the laundry.” OKKKK

Ugh poor Becky! her dad is so gross. She’s stuck with her—I’m sure—evil stepmother and half sister? Major yikes!

The idea of Billy working for Eric Taylor is...interesting. And his argument is basically “you are inspirational and could make me a better person under your influence.” Man, only a mediocre white dude could get away with this!

Yessss Devin is still here playing in a band with Landry and that drummer whose name I can’t remember — oh jimmy okay! Devin is still the coolest character in this town.

Wow Landry is playing a show with his hometown band the night before leaving for college? That’s...a choice!

Oh geez something about Buddy and Eric watching mainly Black kids play basketball whilr recruiting for the team...and of course the one Buddy has his eye on is the one white kid lmao I can’t

“I’m not football stupid.” Lol good one.

“Worst instincts of american culture—violence, aggression.” Okay sexy! what’s your name white kid with moves?

“You’re in Texas now. You love the game of football. You just dont know it yet.” LOL

Aww Tami talking about how this girl Epyck all the other teachers hate has never been properly cared for to succeed is exactly why a guidance counselor like her needs to be in East Dillon. but yeah she’s bout to learn REAL fast what lack of funding and institutional racism look like! Eric is right about her not being the big cheese anymore and being able to change everything at once.

“Yes I’m stealing a basketball player but I’m doing it one step at a time.” Lmao

AWWWW Eric saying “I’m gonna miss this” quietly while eating with his family bc Julie’s about to go to college!! My heart.

“Oh boy oh boy” — literally me, physically tensing up, when Billy tried to give his little inspirational speech to the football team toooooo much he is so cringe. OMFG he read “if you can believe it you might achieve it” off a piece of paper from his pocket and attributed it i literally cannot

“The hippie? What for?” Lol that basketball player is considered a hippie in Dillon? Hilarious. The south is wild.

“These kids are being forgotten.” “Tami, it’s a matter of resources.” “I’m your resource!” Yes Tami but you alone cannot fix dozens of kids who are products of being in a system with lack of resources since before they even started elementary school.

Damn big Mary is out franchising and being corporate dad while Jess watches his children?? Not cool.

“So who is this guy?” “He’s not the punter, you wouldn’t be interested.” LMAO VINCE GOOD ONE

Aww Landry came to say goodbye to Mrs. Saracen. Aw he’s going to Rice? That’s a good school.

OMFG Mrs. Saracen has Landry’s music in her MP3 player???? My fucking heart 🥺

Grace is soooo cute holy shit

Oh wow does Crucifictorious or whatever have fans singing along? It’s really nice that Julie went out of her way to go.

Are we contrasting this with an East Dillon farm party? Ew so drunkenly kissing farm animals is what these kids do for fun huh

“I like knowing that I can do whatever I want. I’m a free spirit.” LMAO I hate this guy

“I’m gonna miss this.” “Miss Dillon?” “No I’m gonna miss the Alamo freeze and all their cool treats and hot eats.” LMAOOOO Landry

Omg they’re reminiscing about Matt working at the Alamo freeze. “I miss his little white hat.” L O L

Lol Landry and Julie say their final goodbye in the strip club, nice. “I’ll see you at Christmas.”

Omg Eric searching through their boxes for ping pong paddles so he can play a final game with Julie has my whole heart. Omfg and they found her Girl Scout vest.

Awww they’re playing in the garage, the season 1 vibes, oh my heart.

Oh so is the basketball coach mad about Hastings playing football? Wild culture truly.

(In the end, a teenage boy can’t help but answer the siren call of other teenage boys chanting his name)

Oh poor Andre acting out about their parental neglect at the Classic. Too real but babe it’s not Jess’s fault 😭

Go Tinker!!!

Hastings knowing some strategic info about another team from basketball, very interesting touch.

Wow Hastings somehow doing well without knowing what he’s doing or seemingly understanding football is hilarious.

“Lions win, lions win! Oh, the humanity! Alarm bells are going off all over Texas right now!”

Oh wow it’s happeninggggg

Ewww Becky really has an evil stepmom like Jesus can she have any positive parental figures

Jess and Vince are cute af. Vince helping Andre out 🥺

Honestly yeah I don’t blame Becky for wanting to leave that emotionally abusive household. The found family code in this town is so well established by now. like, Billy is obligated to take Becky in bc Tim considers her family and I’m like, yep!

Ohhh the Taylors sending their first kid off to college, emotional!!!

#maria watches friday night lights #mine #friday night lights 5x01

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jvncnt · 4 years

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𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐢 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 , beautiful people ! my name is lenny ( 22 , she/her , mst ) & i’m absolutely hyped to be joining this amazing group ! it’s honestly been a hot minute since i last rped in a group , but i truly cannot resist anything that my bbys stephy & leia come up with so here i am ! i’m bringing you my boy jayden , a completely new muse , but i’m really excited to develop him here . pls bare with me if whatever is below the cut is a mess , that’s just representative of my permanent state rn sjkdlhfs but i wanna plot with each & every one of you , so pls hmu ! give this post a like or slide into my dms , or u can reach me via d*sc*rd @ lenny the pooh#3088 ! ily all already , can’t wait to be a part of this group ✨

* 𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐠𝐨𝐬 here and do i have the tea for you . jayden is back in bridgehampton for the summer , living off the vincent’s family $670 million net worth . must be nice to come back home to the hamptons , i wonder what his fellow class of 2017 grads think of his return . you know , he was known around town as the vainglorious and for bhs senior superlatives he was crowned as most likely to punch you in the face . i wonder if that still holds true today , a lot can change when you go off to pace university and study commercial dance . either way , i bet he is still very steadfast , assured , truculent and heedless . hopefully this time next year the plans to dance professionally come true . in the meantime , i look forward to seeing him blast cross me - ed sheeran , chance the rapper , & pnb rock at every hamptons function . it’s going to be a wild summer home , welcome back .

alright so i’ll just drop some bullet points here that’ll tell u all about jay !

( tw : mention of suicide , drugs )

his father is one of the most well-known boxers around , but not for anything great : he was a major heavyweight champ in his early days but shortly after jayden was born his mother committed suicide after a really difficult struggle with postpartum depression , which was not aided by her concern for her husband’s dangerous and demanding career — after that , everything sorta went downhill for jay’s father .

he was caught in one of the biggest drug busts in new york history and went to prison , leaving 10 year old jay in the hands of his paternal grandparents in the hamptons , who already were more like parents to him than his father would ever be .

his grandfather was a big time boxer in his day ( then worked as a mentor to some other big names until his retirement ) , and his son’s troubles disappointed him because he wanted the vincent legacy to live on , so he started mentoring jayden to reclaim the family name in the boxing world .

for a while things went well and jay was into the whole boxing thing , but his grandfather began to put more and more pressure on him as he grew older , along with everyone else around him — he was the star of bhs’ wrestling team and everyone envisioned him up on the big stage , giving creed a run for his money — but jayden couldn’t see it . he really wasn’t that into boxing . sure it gave him an excuse to punch shit and get his anger out , but that only goes so far until you begin to question the true meaning behind what you’re doing .

for jay , the only meaning he could see in pursuing a boxing career was to reclaim the vincent name that his father had tarnished all those years ago , as his grandfather wanted him to , but that moment of glory wasn’t enough to outweigh the lack of passion jay felt underneath every punch — not to mention how much he feared following in his father’s footsteps . he also wasn’t sure he wanted to give his father the satisfaction of reclaiming their throne .

so what was he going to do ? well , where his passion lacked in boxing , it absolutely thrived in dance . his grandmother founded a major dance studio in the hamptons and jay spent many evenings there while growing up . at first he just did homework in his grandmother’s office , but then he started snooping on classes out of boredom before he befriended one of the male teachers who convinced him to try out a class . and from there it kinda snowballed . his teacher turned into more of a mentor than his grandfather would ever be , and jay felt more excitement leading up to his dance classes than his boxing lessons .

his grandfather at first saw dance as a good way for jay to keep up his stamina and exercise in different ways , but then he started to notice the imbalance between his grandson’s passion for dance and for boxing and he grew frustrated . “ dancing’s not for vincent men , " he once told jay . “ grow some balls and throw some punches . ”

out of pure fear of his grandfather and disappointing him , jay continued to pursue his grandfather’s dreams for him and trained almost every day , but then he’d sneak away to late night dance sessions because he just couldn’t avoid how magnetized he was to a life of dance . the creativity , excitement , and pure fun held more meaning than boxing ever would for him , but it took him until high school graduation to properly admit that to himself .

his grandmother , the wonderful spitfire of a woman she is , sneakily led jay through the application process of every major dance academy across the states , even though her husband found no use in sending their future heavyweight champion grandson off to college . she’s always supported jay for every decision he’s made and wanted nothing but the best for him , whether it was boxing or dance or something completely different . she’s the source of all of his confidence , ambition , and determination .

it wasn’t until the acceptance letter came in the mail from pace university that jayden came clean to his grandfather . it was a messy , loud , stressful , emotional night , but his grandfather eventually realized there was no use in arguing or fighting — he raised jay to be strong , independent , and everything he wished his son had been , and he knew that when jay set his sights on something , he was going to do it no matter what .

WHEW ok now we come to the present : jay has been excelling in pace’s commercial dance program , his passion for dance blazing brighter than ever before , and he’s returned home to the hamptons every summer to visit his beloved grandparents . with his senior year coming up , he has already lined up several auditions for world tours and music videos and more to set his dance career in motion . he’s honestly looking forward to seeing his old bhs alumni over the summer and rubbing their noses in the success of his own future that he is writing .

as for a lil about his personality :

he’s well known as the vainglorious , aka excessively proud of oneself or one's achievements ; overly vain .

not to say he’s a bit of a dick but ... he’s a dick .

as much as he hates to admit it , he definitely inherited his father’s hotheadedness and his utter selfishness .

he has always been the kid who doesn’t just think he’s the shit , but is the shit . he’s cocky in an annoyingly charming way and flirted his way up every social ladder during high school .

being the star of the wrestling team also didn’t help to deflate his ego sdljkhf like he didn’t love boxing or wrestling , but he knew he was damn good at it and just likes being the best .

as for some positives about my boy !! he is a charmer and he’s always loved to have fun . he spent so much of his childhood and teen years training and working hard that when he gets free time , whew he revels in it .

working hard is in his blood and he just oozes determination and will be your biggest hype man because he’s a dick but he still wants to see everyone succeed ! he knows what it feels like to be passionate about something and wanting to chase your dreams , and he will help you chase those dreams !!!

a big ol’ flirt , but he’s not really a player . he’s never been one to sleep around or act like breaking hearts is a sport . he grew up really admiring his grandparents’ marriage , all while remembering the poor relationship he knows his parents had , and definitely is a bit of a romantic . but that’s not to say he isn’t down to have some fun either lol

UUHHHH I REALLY DK WHAT ELSE TO SAY !!!

like i said , he’s a work in progress so i’m sorry this isn’t more detailed or fancy , i’m truly just so excited to be here that i wanted to get this up asap !

if you'd like to take a look at the shitty pinterest board i made for him , you can find it right here ! you can ignore the extra sections on it , it's a recycled board from an old muse but i'm leaving the connection sections there in case any of the pins work with the plots i get going with u !

as for connections , i’m truly down for anything and everything !! which i know is sooo basic to say but i’m forreal . if you have some angst or drama you wanna throw my way , i am here for it ! i also pride myself on my ability to brainstorm fun plots , so don’t be afraid to reach out !

xo ily

#entitled:intro #this is going without a gif bc i still gotta edit rome's #but hello happy saturday #pls love me

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riversmuses · 3 years

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To Cleo, Love River

Cleo,

It’s wild to me how quickly time has gone by since I met you. It doesn’t take a genius to work out how lost I was at the time our relationship started. I was a little boy who cared more about being looked at rather than admired. I had lost so much during that time: I had dumped Jack’s friendship to join the popular jocks, I had lost my dad in a messy divorce and I lost who I was. I didn’t care about anything or anyone, I just wanted to be on top. I was lost in a world of needing substance to feel happy. Hell, there’s so much of high school that I don’t remember because of that mix of pills, alcohol and weed. But I’ll always remember meeting you. I saw you for the first time in the school cafeteria. You were the new girl everyone was talking about. You were so pretty, prettier than any of the girls in our year. I admit that my thoughts of you were so wrong to begin with. I wanted to claim a title of “having” the new girl, be the cool kid. It wasn’t until we started talking (and maybe a bit of flirting) that I realised you were different. A breath of fresh air, someone who reminded me of myself. We started hanging out regularly, I brought you into our group of friends and spent every morning excited to see you at the lockers before the first period. Of course I was encouraged by my circle at the time to get in with you, especially since I found you so pretty. Yet I couldn’t - I couldn’t do that to you. I respected you too much. I cared about you. You had the same lost, anxious look in your eye - the same feeling I felt inside my head. I didn’t want to be someone who let you down or made you sad. I wanted to be someone you could trust, someone who you could call a friend. So, any feeling I had for you, I buried. Everyone called me a pussy but I didn’t care. I liked you, Cleo. I liked you more than anyone I had ever met. I couldn’t do anything to hurt you, so I was your friend.

And damn, I liked being your friend. A real friend. I started spending more time with you than I spent with anyone else. I had such a relief of tension whenever we were together. You weren’t with me for popularity or to hook-up, you were there cause you cared for me. We became two peas in a pod. You couldn’t get one without the other. I didn’t go anywhere without you because you were the only person I trusted, who I could be real with. You were the first person I told about my interest in movies and music - something that was so important to me yet you didn’t even blink when I told you. You just smiled and told me about your brother, an aspiring filmmaker himself. It was nice - having someone understand me. Looking back now, I know I definitely loved you. Whether I buried it deep down or mistook it for a powerful friendship, I did. But I was flawed. I couldn’t commit to anything, let alone anyone. I was a mess, inside and out. And truthfully? I didn’t care for myself or what I wanted. I cared about you. I wanted you to be happy, with whatever and whoever you wanted. When you got together with Sean, I felt a strange sensation in my chest. A mixed feeling of happiness for you but disappointment from me. I convinced myself that it was because I knew I’d see you a lot less now you had a boyfriend. Looking back, my buried feelings for you were trying so hard to come to the surface. But you looked so happy, so happy with him. You two suited and I wanted that for you. I wanted you to have someone who could yell from the rooftops that they wanted you and treated you right. I couldn’t be that person, so who was I to get in the middle of that beautiful romance? Whether I knew it at the time, I loved you enough to let you go. Being your friend was enough for me. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t have done for you.

A couple years went by, I was out of high school and finding myself. I had lost most of my “friends” and I was going through so much self-reflection. So much guilt. You were there for me, despite having a whole ass relationship and education to juggle. You walked with me for miles, just wanting me to know that you were there for me. You helped bring out the side of me that had been hiding away for so long - the real side of me. The kid that wanted to make movies and music, the kid that longed to have people that loved him close, the kid that hated basketball and wanted to start something new. You helped me reconnect with Jack, you helped find a place for me and my cousin to move into and you sat at my desk in my room helping me apply for college. You did so much for me. I’d speak to my dad every other day about how I was and how you were. He must’ve always known how I felt for you. Yet he just sat there quietly, smiling and nodding at everything I was saying. I finally felt that my life was starting to go somewhere, starting to matter. I never knew how I was ever going to repay you for everything you had done.

It would only be when you and Sean broke up that I eventually had to slip into your shoes for the time being. It broke my heart seeing you so upset. I know you blame yourself, blamed your commitment issues - hell, I completely understood where you were coming from. We were even younger back then so I could imagine how anxious it made you feel. I held you, let you cry despite ruining my t-shirt every time you did. Even though you blame yourself and justified it to me, I still never felt so much anger in my life. Not since my parents’s divorce had I felt this way. It didn’t matter whose fault it was to me - it only mattered that you were left heartbroken by the whole experience. It was because of you that I didn’t do anything stupid to Sean, cause I knew that if I did - I would just be hurting you more. I couldn’t do that to you. You were more important than my emotions. So, I did what you asked. Just to stay close to you, hold you, tell you everything was going to be alright eventually. I did just that. I promised you so much - that I would always be there for you when you needed me. That we would take on the world together. We both shared the dream of living in New York - I promised you that if we were still just us that we could move there together. Be roommates - live our dreams together. I was and still am nowhere near rich but I wanted to buy you the world. Anything to make you smile again. It took us a long time for you to move past that relationship but I didn’t care. I wanted you to trust me and be able to cry in front of me when you needed to. I knew how much you held back in front of everyone else, especially when Sean thought he got a girl pregnant. You were still being your kind self, trying so hard to be okay with it all and even offering to babysit for him and the girl when the baby was born. It bewildered me how someone could have such a big heart and yet be the one in so much pain. So, that’s why I let you cry so much. I wanted you to feel comfortable to do that with me - for me to be the one person you didn’t have to fake your emotions to. I wanted you to let everything out. Like you had always done for me.

2020 was one of our best years together. We were both young, dumb and together as the best of friends. We partied, had nights in - spent every other day together. We laughed until we cried. We spent days trying to study for school which would just end up with us doing a takeaway run. I was spending the prime years of my life, finally free of social constructs, with you. I was finally communicating to you how much I adored you and wanted you in my life forever. Sure, I was stressed out a lot from school and work the past year. But you always fixed that, always helped me when you could. I didn’t realise how much I would miss you around until I went to Tokyo for three weeks. While it was a blissful time away, I found myself wanting you there with me. I imagined how we’d be jumping on and off the tram, eating weird flavoured ice-cream and using our broken Japanese to get around. I spoke to you as much as I could, despite the time difference. It blew my mind that I was missing home so much, even though I was in this amazing city with my dad. Then again, I wasn’t really missing home, was I? I was missing you. The day that I flew back, I remember my dad hugging me tightly and asking me to send you his love. Cause he knew that as soon as I landed, I’d be with you. You picked me up from the airport, holding a cute “welcome home” sign you made yourself. I hugged you and felt like everything was right again. I was where I needed to be. What was the end of one trip would start another: our road trip to New York to visit Stephen and Ollie. The highlight of my year. Driving hours and hours with you, just laughing and blasting our favourite tunes. The week we spent in New York is one I want to remember when I’m old and grey. The four of us spent so much time around the city, either enjoying the sites or drunk in a bar we found. My favourite nights, however, were the ones we spent in Stephen and Ollie’s loft. We’d play Monopoly, watch movies and trashy tv, eating whatever we wanted and just talking to one another. It felt like a scene in a coming of age film, just being around people who made me unconditionally happy. I loved being with you, imagining if this is what our lives would look like if we eventually moved to New York together. We had so much fun that I was instantly thinking of the next trip - the next time I’d get to be with you and not think about anything else.

Fast forward a few months, we’d reach my birthday. It started how I’d expect it to - drink with you, have some of your baked goods and enjoy a party thrown by Jack in my honour. It was fun, don’t get me wrong. But I remember standing in my packed living room, completely intoxicated, just wanting to find you. We eventually managed to sneak away, long enough for you to give me my birthday gift. A signed copy of Pulp Fiction: something that was so incredibly me and meant so much. Yet, it touched me more that you got it for me. Spent all that time, effort and money for me. I knew from then that our relationship was so unique. So special. So much more complex than I had originally thought. I was so caught up in being your best friend that when I laid there in my room, falling asleep in your arms, that I realised I felt so much for you. A feeling I couldn’t put into words. I just knew that I wanted to be there with you than anywhere else in the world. We were teased the next day, for sure. But I blocked out that noise by now - you were the only noise I cared to hear.

Your amazing gift to me got me thinking about what I could for your birthday in Feb. You didn’t want anything, just my presence as you were more a lover of affirmations rather than gifts. Still, that wasn’t good enough for me. I wanted to give you something so that you’d know how much I care for you. So, I did what I did best - I spent weeks and weeks in the college’s music room. Practicing songs that reminded me of us, reminded me of you. I realised that while I would get you physical gifts like the New York canvas and the bee necklace that I wanted to give you something from the bottom of my heart. It took 2 months for me to finish producing an album of covers, songs that were your favourites but also songs that reminded me of you. Those two months opened my eyes so much more than you could ever imagine. I found myself so lost in making that gift for you, listening to the words of these songs I picked that I realised - I was singing to you like a lover. Like someone who had been with you for years and planned on spending the rest of his life in love with you. It was powerful and moving, enough to open the Pandora's Box inside my head. I came to realise that my feelings for you were stronger than any friendship and why I felt so euphoric around you.

That’s why I’m here now, sitting alone in my room writing what I could only describe to be a love letter. Cause that’s what I feel for you, Bee. Love. Falling for you was the strangest thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it to happen cause I always knew deep down I did. Before you, love and everything that came with it didn’t seem real to me. I had complicated family relationships. The lack of love between my mom and I set me up for failure with any other girl. I wasn’t obsessing over girls or having crushes - I liked having sex and that’s what I had with other girls. Just meaningless sex to keep me satisfied. Then I met you and I now realise what everyone is talking about when it comes to the subject. I liked you more than I ever thought I could like anyone and wanted to spend every moment with you. You are the only girl I have ever wanted to be with. I realise that despite my issues of love and relationships, that all went out the window when I met you. No-one else ever came close to you. Not even Emerald.

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to have that sexual intimacy with you. Cause trust me, I do. I think about what it would be like more often than I should. But you’ve taught me that there’s more than just that. We shared intimacy in the smallest of things. Pouring each other glasses of wine, applying face masks to each other’s faces with pure concentration, the little forehead kisses I’d give you, driving late night together, walking side by side, feeding each other McDonalds fries, tight hugs, falling asleep in each other’s arms - you have made me appreciate so much of what love can offer. That’s something that I never thought I’d say. And while I loved being your best friend, I’d love to be your boyfriend more.

Whenever I think of my future, I just want you to be in it. I wanna live in the most beautiful city with an even more beautiful girl next to me. The thought of it makes my heart pound in my chest - how I would have completed life if it came true. I promise you if we do end up moving there together (regardless if we were a couple or just best friends) that I’ll make you all the gluten free pancakes in the world. Anything for you.

You are my first crush and my first love. And I genuinely believe that you will be my last.

I love you, Cleo Somers. I really fucking do.

Love,

River x

#river's thoughts;#river&cleo: if you cross her then you cross me #|| I feel emotional - ||

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rosesanthology · 4 years

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And Yet... | Akaashi Keiji x F!Reader [musician!AU]

Violinist!Akaashi x Pianist!Reader (yes i saw that one Viria fanart)

Ive been feeling extremely bad these days but im managing to write some things for my emotional support hq boys (Akaashi and Kenma) so here u go even tho its probably a lil shitty 👁3👁 its all about them la la land type of vibes

Warning : i didn't proofread this, also it's VERY self indulgent

Songs : • city of stars from La La Land (but Dodie and Jon Cozart's cover)

• any of the songs in the fic but especially Bach's violin sonata in presto IT SLAPS

[Tags] : @raevaioli

- You've always admired the way human life entertwines itself with art. The vicissitudes of a fleating existence finding a way to express themselves in external stimulations, the way someone could pour as much of their soul, as much as themselves in just one moment, one performance, one artwork.

- it is the main reason why you decided to become a pianist. The second one being that you could hardly put as much effort on anything else

- your mother would argue that it is but a mere childhood dream to do something as uncertain, sure.

- and yet, the first time your performed in front of an actual audience, even if it was just at your high school's theatre auditorium, still felt like the best

- you had registered in the student showcase program without your mother knowing, wearing not the dark blue dress you dreamed of but a hoodie, some jeans and sneakers

- in the moment it seemed fine even if you did look way underdressed than the other kids who registered for piano too

- but it all seemed to tie together with your whole personna as you sat on the stool making sure to put your tiny moomin plushie on top of the grand piano

- he helped a lot

- at that time you played Tanjirou no Uta because well....there's only so much you can expect from a high schooler who lacks confidence in their skills

- regardless of the song your fingers danced onto the heavy keys, the sound swirling with your own emotions as you tried to concentrate on the one thing you wanted the most,

- "Somebody, look at me."

- because there is such a big difference between only being seen by people and actually being looked, observed, analysed

- at the time you wanted someone to look at you and wonder if what they were feeling listening to your piece was flooding their brain the same way it flooded yours

- if the lingering sound of pressed keys made their heart and time stop in the same way it did yours so well whenever you played

- it mattered. In that moment, only that mattered, but sooner or later it had to end

- until then, the only person who was able to exactly tell the things you wanted to convey was your childhood best friend Akaashi Keiji

- he was of wealthier upbringing, his parents always so uptight and pressuring him into their perfect mold in which he seemed to fit so oddly well

- and yet, he always found time to be there for you and help you in your struggles, he was far more musically inclined than you because of his background but his eyes never lost their gentle glint as you would mess up the keys to a piece

- he'd always take his time to let you know how much he liked hearing you play even if you insisted that you weren't as good as him, his smile never wavered as he rested his chin on his palms and closed his eyes, listening to your fifth poor attempt at playing Clara Schumann's sonata in G minor

- that was your typical sunday afternoon in his living room, playing the day away intoxicated in the calmness of his scent of flowers and warm cotton

- when you finished, people didn't seem to mind the choice of the song nor the stuffed toy that added to your whole appearance, if anything you only heard encouragements, advices and heartfelt returns

- among them was Akaashi of course, ever so gentle but marking in his praise, making you feel like maybe you were worth standing on that stage

- it wasn't much compared to what the middle school kids who played Mozart got but, it gave you enough of a push to have the strength to call yourself a pianist today

- nothing really changed in your little world, you still had your moomin plush sitting on the piano everytime you performed and the same simple attitude, now you just knew your classics and could play something else than anime music even if you did manage to fit a little song once in a while

- what changed tho is that you and Akaashi had grown appart after he had left

- his parents had suddenly decided to register him in some fancy music college in Paris

- away from you

- at the time, you knew that no amount of tears and words could possibly matter in the final decision

- but it's not like you could ever control yourself when he held you in his arms like he did when he broke the news to you

- you were never that gracious at goodbyes

- but if it meant that he could get the life he deserved than you were willing to make that sacrifice, even if he wouldn't have the time to talk to you as much as before

- in the meantime you would continue to grow as a person and as an artist if not for you then for him

- and that's what you've been doing for the past four years

- and it is exactly what brought you to accept the offer to perform at another musician showcase tonight

- it was fancier than a high school show that's for sure. It was held in one of these candle lit restaurants, but not the impersonal ones where the tables are five meters away from each other

- it was one of these places where everybody seemed to know each other and relish in the warmth of sharing the same pleasant time while listening to live concerts

- after your own performance you sat back down with the other musicians, talking a bit with the pretty cellist Kiyoko Shimizu, who finished her own before yours

- when the lights dimmed and the next musician stepped on the stage your heart almost stopped

- there stood your dearly missed friend in flesh and bones, violin and bow in hand, or at least you thought so

- he started playing and you watched from the side, amazed, your heart achung with the resonance of the instrument as he gently swayed to such a hard piece as Bach's sonata No. 1 in presto

- the ground and the rest of the room seemed to dismantle around you as all you could think about was the man playing music off of your very heart strings, the man who you've known for a long time and who had been such a huge inspiration and motivation in your existence

- the man who always was so sensible and observant despite coming off as stoic to most people, the same one who was always gentle and motivating all the whilst excelling in what he did himself

- this was Akaashi Keiji.

- and right now he was playing such a fast piece with an unspoken surprising sadness to it as if he'd disappear into ashes the second he stopped, the second he relaxed

- but it eventually had to come to an end, the sound of the strings tearing you appart to reveal the most vulnerable parts of yourself to him like it always did on sunday afternoon practice

- the realization came crashing into you as he bowed to the audience and locked eyes with you, sending you a small smile before disappearing backstage

- naturally, you went after him your breath hitching and your whole being coming to a halt three meters away from him

- you had been way farther away from each other and yet, these three meters felt the worst

- he turned to you, and as casually as if he never left opened his arms for you to run into and that's just what you did

- his own heart was pounding as he caressed your hair, whispering phrases like "it's okay" or "im here now" as you sobbed into his chest

- he still smelled of wild flowers and cotton.

- "let's go catch up outside Y/N?" He said just for you to hear

- he brought you two outside on a bench overlooking the city and its lights but you couldn't help but keep your eyes on him by fear that he'd disappear again

- "w-why are you here ?" you stammered without thinking

- "why you don't want me here ?"

- "Yes- Well no- i mean yes i want you here and-"

- his laugh resonated even more than his violin if that was possible and you didn't have to wait long to feel your face heat up

- "first thing you do is laugh at me...." you said, playing with his fingers on your lap, a thing you did back then whenever he was nervous and started fiddling with his hands, even tho you were the nervous one now

- he sighed, the previous sadness from his playing as if blown away by that tiny impatient breath of air

- "i came back on my own. I missed you Y/N", he smiled again,

- "i missed you too...but what happened to your studies ? You always said you lived for music ?" you incquired, squeezing his hand maybe a little too hard in aprehention

- "i did...i did but i realized many things abroad"

- "like what ?"

- "im a little disappointed Y/N you used to be so good at guessing what i wanted to convey with my music" he said raising an eyebrow at you and laughing once more when seeing the confused look on your face

- "i may have said i lived for music yes and yet...i always knew that i live for you."

#tbh its no secret that i love him i mean #its pretty easy to tell🤡#oh to be able to smooch Akaashi #anyway i wrote this listening to DAGames' Break My Mind #how very anticlimatic #haikyuu x reader #akaashi haikyuu #haikyuu!!#akaashi imagine #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi hcs #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #fukurodani #hq!! fic #hq akaashi #hq au

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girlforlorn · 5 years

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taissa farmiga + cis female + she/her.┊ ❛ ━ hey, is it just me or do you hear “goodbye mr. a” by the hoosiers playing in the distance ? oh, that’s just melanie “molly” watson, a twenty-three year old assistant research scientist working with the sector of humanity. according to my sources, i heard she can be neutral good and is meticulous, but also desperate. that’s probably why they remind everyone of a thrift shop cardigan two sizes too big, cooking shoplifted hot dogs over a burning garbage can, & a light at the end of the tunnel bright enough to damage your eyes. anyway, make sure to keep an eye out, the doves are more powerful with them on their side ! ( nina, 21, est, she/her )

howdy everybody! my name’s nina and i’ve been thirsting to join this rp ever since lis reblogged one of the first pre-opening promos onto my dashboard! this is my very depressed and shy child molly, who is going to be quietly watching and taking notes as your mutant muses scream in the experimentation lab. 🤠

BIOGRAPHY !

Melanie Watson was born to a very poor and very dysfunctional family, in a rural town in Sapphire state, where supervillains knew there was plenty of land to set up a base secluded from Crystalline. The majority of the population’s tax dollars went not to the school systems, but to reparations on the destruction caused by the supervillains hiding out on the outskirts of the town, the local mutants with no control over their abilities, and the hot-shot superhero who made monthly rounds to the town to bust villain operations.

While raising their daughters in a town with the lowest life expectancy in the state, the Watsons always did what they could to make sure Molly and her twin sister, Valerie, would have a way out. So they pushed their kids to work toward scholarships, and when Molly was revealed to be a particularly bright student, they cut critical corners to help pay her tuition to a private school one town over, in their only chance to give her an education that could compete with kids from more affluent neighborhoods in Sapphire.

Economic strain from paying for schooling caused the kind of stress that would send the twins’ parents to an early grave--- two deadly strokes within one year of each other--- but by the time they passed away, Molly had earned her scholarship to Staurolite College, and Valerie insisted that she didn’t let all of their parents’ sacrifices go to waste. They shipped off to Crystalline together, and saved money on Molly’s boarding by renting a cheap apartment above a rowdy pub in the Jade District.

Things went well for most of Molly’s schooling, with grief over the loss of their parents quelled by a change in scenery and a sense that they had a bright future ahead of them. Molly majored in biophysics with a minor in engineering, and worked a year-round part-time job shelving books at Crystalline Library, while picking up an additional jobs waitressing during the summers. When she started to feel more comfortable, she’d abandoned most of her anti-mutant politics in favor of keeping her head down and staying out of trouble.

Tragedy struck again shortly before Molly’s graduation, when a superhero’s pursuit of a villain escalated to a destructive brawl across rooftops in the Jade District, and the hero’s desperate outburst of power led to the complete decimation of Molly and Valerie’s apartment, with a hungover and housebound Valerie being fatally crushed in the rubble.

An uninsured Molly was left without a home, without a family, and without a purpose in life; powerless and hopeless. The end of the school year meant that she couldn’t even couch surf in her friends’ dorms for long, and after exhausting her savings and local resources in under a month, she was left on the streets in a near-catatonically traumatized state.

After months passed with no response to his emails, a former professor of biophysics looked into whatever happened to the student of his who lost her apartment days before receiving her diploma, and he spread the harrowing results of his investigation to his colleagues. Word of Molly’s story eventually piqued the interest of politicians looking for anecdotes about the devastating downsides of letting mutants walk the streets of Crystalline, and it wasn’t long before Molly Watson became a person of major interest for the movement.

With Autumn creeping in, cold nights and shivering skin shook Molly out of her depressed stupor, and the pressure to escape her situation started to weigh on her. So when she was tracked down by a scientist with the Sector of Humanity who had done extensive research into her history, she didn’t have enough endurance or dignity in her to turn down his proposition. In exchange for her to share her story with their journalists and make a few public appearances, he offered her his guest room, a guiding hand to get her education back on track, and an opportunity for her to work as an assistant research scientist in the Sector’s labs while she earned her Master’s degree at Staurolite.

While the gesture seemed nothing short of charitable and empathetic to a girl who fell through the cracks, more wisely cynical eyes would immediately realize that she was recruited to the doves for PR purposes. Her story was easily exploitable for anti-mutant hit pieces (a pretty, white, bookish, doe-eyed and angelic orphan who worked so hard to pull herself up by her bootstraps and pursue the American Dream™, only to have her future #RIPPED #AWAY by these ReCkLEsS mONsTErS!!!), and she already had a small grassroots following in the news cycles from other working-class non-mutant people who could relate to the plight of living at the mercy of superheroes, who made insurance unattainable and had no accountability behind their anonymity.

Though she is exceptionally bright, and a fast learner in STEM fields, the doves didn’t recruit a 22-year-old because she was the most qualified candidate for the position, but because the philanthropic act of “rescuing” fallen angel and giving her a cinderella story would be good for their image; it softened their reputation among skeptical humanists who thought their organization was too focused on tearing down the mutants and not concerned with uplifting the common people. She’s being used in marketing to bring in a younger generation of Doves, and they’re making sure her name and face is becoming more public than any allegedly brutal scientists on board, who may have some controversial scandals under their belts.

PERSONALITY !

Molly before she became an only child, a.k.a. Molly for her first four years in Crystalline, as a student at Staurolite and a part-time page at the Crystalline Public Library:

Molly was a sweet girl-next-door type, with a quaint small town charm that made her shy in a big city. A studious mom friend and perfectionist. She was used to being the voice of reason to keep her wild child of a sister from doing anything too dangerous, and that carried over into her friendships.

Because of her bashful nature, the strange and dry sense of humor that comes out when she gets comfortable ends to catch new friends off guard. She’s had a few people in her life that she’s been close enough to to playfully bicker with, and she holds her own in a way you wouldn’t expect. She has a taste for weird kitsch and earnestly terrible movies and pulp fiction, and always tried to make it to the Uptown Cinema’s weird midnight screenings of Ed Wood movies.

Always aspired to be a librarian, but never thought it was an ambitious enough career path when she expected she would have to make enough money to support her whole family and all of their massive debts. She’s always gravitated to working part-time jobs at libraries to make some extra cash, and used to shelve books at Crystaline Public Library for four years while she was an undergrad. She has a big affinity for genre-bro fiction; authors like Bradbury, Salinger, Faulker, Gaiman, Pratchett, Palahniuk, Alan Moore, and especially Vonnegut. Veered into more pretentious russian authors for the sake of conversational fluency when she hung around literature majors, but she’s always preferred her boyish fiction.

She never had a car, and always tried to save money on public transportation by riding her longboard to get from place to place whenever possible. More interested in the utility of skating than the #Thrasher culture. Came off as a bit of a spectacle when she was shredding across the city in a turtleneck dress and stockings.

Molly among the monsters, a.k.a. Molly as a Dove:

After she lost her home, an already timid Molly had completely retreated into herself, and the girl who could a least smile and laugh and go out to parties seemed to abandoned any range of emotion beyond numb absence and melancholic despair--- and that's the narrative the Doves try to push, to both the public and to Molly, erasing any history of wholesome hijinks or moments of genuine joy and solace she may have had while travelling in the same circle as plucky street urchin and jokester magician Jett Hawkins.

Since finding shelter and making her way back into academia, she’s at least made the appearance of coming back out of her shell.

While her mental health is recovering from the toll that the streets’ harsh physical conditions were taking on her, she may not be healing properly. A mind left vulnerable and weathered is, of course, the easiest to mold and manipulate. And as her surface levels personality traits of calm smiles and composure come back, there’s something fundamentally different about her at her core.

Molly always had political leanings toward a preference for regulation of superheroes, and agreed with some canvasing her more radical sister did for government-enforced superpower blocking medication, but she never got too involved, for fear of getting on the bad side of gods walking among tiny mortals.

With a lack of research into the fringe opposition to the Doves, she was too naive to truly understand what she was getting into in this organization, and it was easy for her to let her guard down when the scientists who saved her life were subtly priming her for the human rights atrocities she was about to witness in the labs.

Now, there is still a part of her core humanity and nuturing personality that may have survived her roughest days, and it still screams out in moral objection to what she's seen done to the mutants, but the survival instinct she developed knows that she's locked in with the Doves, and it knows that she doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go, and especially wouldn't be able to make it anywhere else if her betrayal of the anti-mutant scientific community gets her blacklisted from future job opportunities in Crystalline, or compromises her ability to finish her Master's degree.

She considers herself trapped in enabling inhumanity and doesn't have the emotional fortitude or stability to take a stand, still disturbed at heart, still waiting on a moment to exhale and truly mourn her sister. She holds it together on a surface level, and lets her shyness come off as icy silence, but anyone who can pay close enough attention might notice that she's the only scientist in the lab who flinches or has to subtly avert her eyes when one of the "test subjects" is being electrocuted. Fortunately for her, most of them seem to distracted by unimaginable agony to notice the wallflower in the back of the room.

WANTED CONNECTIONS!

THE SCIENTIST WHO TOOK HER IN TO HIS/HER/THEIR HOUSE!!!!!! I might send in an official wanted connection for this, but the gist is someone who's very tied to the anti-mutant cause and sees Molly either as a genuinely sympathetic victim of the mutants, or as a very useful prop to use to political pathos (possibly both!). This would be her closest contact in life, since they saved her from the darkest moment in her life, and she probably sees them as a surrogate family while her brain tries to cope with the realization that she has no biological kin left.

People who may have encountered her while she was bouncing between shelters or sleeping in playground tunnels. At the time, she was basically catatonic from the trauma, and probably easy prey for the thieves and the cretins lurking the streets. There’s definitely room for someone who picked up on that and either exploited it or tried to help her out. (The only condition is that it’s important that she wasn’t assisted by anyone who would actually help her get a permanent shelter, since it’s crucial to her story that she was a vagrant at the time that the Doves found her.)

People! Who! Knew! Valerie! Maybe Val’s former coworkers? Someone who traveled in the same anti-mutant activist circles as her? I haven’t decided what she did for a living yet, but I can tell you that she worked at least two jobs and was the more wild and outgoing of the twins, and definitely hung out in harder party scenes, so this could be any connection to Val, from a short-lived fling, to a best friend, to a coworker would work. I’m thinking Val might have worked at the dive bar below their apartment?

And speaking of that dive bar, someone who used to frequent that pub in the run-down Jade district and might recognize Molly or Valerie from there would be cool, too! Maybe someone who got into a fight on the street in front of the place that Molly had to break up to get back inside, or even someone who got her to stop and smoke a cigarette outside the pub with them after a particularly stressful day.

CLASSMATES!!! CURRENT (Staurolite grad students) OR FORMER (undergrad Staurolute students)! Or just people in her age group who would hang around the same places the college students would chill at, like the bowling alley or The Neon Room. I think most characters went to Crystalline University while Molly went to Staurolite College, but maybe there’s an area between Staurolite and Crystal U where students from both campuses used to coalesce for housing and hanging out. People she used to tutor! People who used to drag her out of her shell and bring her to parties! People she used to stay in with to drink tea and study together! People who helped her rural ass assimilate to city life; and the flipside: people she would drag out of the city to go pumpkin picking every autumn!

She’s very inexperienced in the field of romance, so I can picture her having maybe one serious romantic relationship in her life, that she probably still thinks about a lot. So maybe someone who dated her a few years ago? Any gender ~

A N Y T H I N G there’s such a range of unique characters in this group, i feel like i can’t even begin to touch on all the possibilities in one WC section, so just shoot me a message and i’ll write up a list of ideas for your character to be connected to Molly, either through history together or a future plot!

#PLEASE excuse my theme right now!! i'm going to ... redesign that in the near immediate future #gloryhqs.intro #i think this got too rambly to keep anyone's interest so i'll just slap a tl;dr in these here tags:#very poor staurolite college student who lived in an apartment in the jade district slums with her sister valerie #as molly finished her undergrad: a superhero in the heat of battle with a villain destroyed their home with valerie still inside #valerie died in the rubble and molly was left with 1) no home 2) no family #and 3) too much trauma to really maage her emotional and physical affairs in the aftermath #within a matter of weeks she blew through her resources and wound up living on the streets for a few months #//#after a former professor looked into what happened to her and spread the word to his colleagues #the anti-mutant side of the city ate the story up and realized she could be a great PR prop for the doves #and she was rescued - taken in by one of the doves' scientists and offered a work-study position while she finished grad school #in exchange for her doing some press rounds telling her story to the media #so she was effectively exploited for her tragedy;#but she didn't really understand what she was getting into when she was so desperate and tired #now she's locked in with the doves and even if she has some sense that she's being manipulated and mislead #she doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go #she doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go - especially because #they have a lot of power and it's terrifying to think of what could happen to her if she betrayed them - much less blew the whistle.#so she's just trapped in enabling human rights violations and honestly has a little too much emotional distress to take a stand anyway #because she still hasn't had the moment of silence to grapple with the loss of her sister #/// and she keeps to herself and gives the appearance of holding it together #but a very watchful eye might notice that she always flinches or casts her eyes down when a mutant is in pain in the labs

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punkpoemprose · 6 years

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At 11:11 on a random 1975 day, clouds were accompanied by storms of lightning and thunder. The stars in space were long gone since the sunrise, and there you stood, wearing a flower crown of fairy lights and daisies, not to mention overalls and combat boots. Your messy bun had been secured by bands and you were painting old books on white bedsheets, using oil paints. Your eyes were full of love, stark against the winged eyeliner. And when you were done, you left the beaches behind.

Okay, so first of all nonny this was so creative and brilliant that I hope you save it. Not only was it a great way to send me so so so many prompts at once, but it’s beautifully poetic as stand alone writing and I spent so much time just reading it over and over again! Well done and thank you so much for the asks!It’s kind of a lot so most of the answers are under the cut!

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.I won’t patronize you with world peace or anything like that because we all wish for that. My first wish would be for all of my friends to live close. My second wish would be that my loved ones would always be safe/happy/have everything they want and need. My final wish would probably be for one of those big beautiful Victorian homes and the means to fix it up the way I want (I actually love home repair and such). These would all bring me so much joy!

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?Yesterday I spent the day at the mall with a very good friend and had a ball, came home to a delicious shrimp etouffee my mother made, enjoyed a dinner conversation with both of my parents, had a wonderful video chat with my boyfriend after dinner, and had a sleepover with my little cousin that involved me drawing her riding on a unicorn. So all day yesterday was a happy memory!

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?I’ve had many a pixie cut in my day. I don’t know that I’d ever shave it all off or anything though.

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?One song. As much as I love music, I love my family and friends more. One song I could deal with, but I refuse to pick one loved one over all the rest.

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?I’ve never technically been either, but I accidentally swore in front of a little kid in Disney Springs while tipsy on vacation. I’m pretty boring honestly!

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?Kill. Even if it’s someone I loathe.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?Probably fairly recently. I cry a lot. The last time I really remember though is I teared up a lot when I got on a train back home after spending a couple days at my boyfriends. I cry every time I have to leave him/ he has to leave me. Hopefully we’ll be living together soon!

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?My college desk was quite organized and lovely. My home desk is a bit of a work in progress right now, but the main drawer is beautifully organized!

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.One of my favorite quotes is Oscar Wilde’s "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."To me it’s the ultimate “the world is shit, but if you can find one thing to reach for and care about, living is worth it” and that’s how I like to live my life, always looking forward to something and always working on something. It keeps the dark out.

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?In my head: currently doing soOut loud: probably about an hour ago. I’m always singing to myself, I would be now if it weren’t for my parents being asleep and I’d hate to wake them.

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?This is kind of crazy, and it’s a long-ish story, but there’s this whole mystery in my life about a pearl necklace someone gave my dad that he gave me and he’s forbidden to tell me who gave it to him, so like any other person with a cool life mystery, I’d naturally like to crack it. So I’d like to know who gave it to my Dad.

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?So far, probably getting my bachelors degree, but not really because of the degree itself, but because of how proud it made my family.

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?I’ve thought about this one a lot. I’d pay off all my debt as well as my parents (thankfully it’s not all that much). I’d buy my dad all the fun tools/ machinery he’s always wanted as well as paying for all the stuff my mom would want done to the house. I’d buy one of those Victorian houses I’ve always wanted and would fix it up. I’d pay up front for my boyfriend and my own master’s degrees, my brother’s bachelors, and my Dad’s bachelor’s/ my mom’s Masters (they’re both nervous to go and if money wasn’t the problem I think they’d enjoy it). I’d invest in a bunch of start ups, buy derelict property and fix it up then rent and sell to low income families, and donate a bunch to my favorite charities. And then I would work in a library for the rest of my life, live within my means and continue to be charitable.

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?Yes and no. Indiscretions and momentary lapses in judgement, yes. Chronic rudeness and causing emotional scarring, no. I think it’s an okay way to be. I wish I could forget the stuff that bothers me, but I don’t think forgiving is necessary all the time, so I’m happy with the way I am.

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.In the words of Cinderella, “Have courage and be kind.”

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.Fall Out Boy got me through my preteen and teen years, connected me to a lot of my friends, and is still a band I like to listen to (their newest album isn’t my jam as much, but the old stuff speaks to me). They were also the first concert I ever saw with my boyfriend and I remember just being full of joy singing my heart out with him, soaking wet as they performed a second encore in the pouring rain.

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.I already answered this one, but just to name one quickly, I’m quite proud of my home made Hermione costume.

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?I’m very very open with both my parents so they know everything pretty much (I tattle on myself, haha), but I guess I wouldn’t want my mom to know about the days where I don’t eat (Dad gets that it’s more that I forget than anything weight related, mom worries that I have body image issues) and I wouldn’t want my Dad to know about my sex life (he knows I have one and that’s enough for both of our liking, but I can talk to my mom about it).

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?Reading or tv, brushing my teeth/ washing my face/ etc., putting the dogs in their area, heading up to bed and doing a bit of typing/tumblr/youtube/ something, putting on an oversize t-shirt, and then crawling between the covers and passing out.

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?Jokingly I once said it would be “Not Becky“ because for years people confused my friend Becky and I (I’m talking from elementary school through college and probably still today).

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?I’d love to head up to Niagara Falls for a weekend (it’s like 3hrs from where I live by car) with both my parents, my brother, my boyfriend, and maybe my brother’s girlfriend. It seems like it would be fun to see the falls and maybe go to the Ripley’s museum on Clifton Hill. I loved that place when I was a kid!

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realize you’re in love.I’m in love with my boyfriend of six (nearly seven) years. At first it was the new tingly sort of feeling when I realized I loved him. Everything made my heart warm and my head feel fuzzy and we were very very very overly affectionate in the beginning. Now though when I realize I love him and he loves me (it’s weirdly like a realization to me every single day) it’s just a comfortable feeling, like a nightlight that’s always on and you just notice the glow sometimes and smile about it.

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.Everything is going to get so much better in life. Don’tsweat the small stuff. You’re going to make mistakes and don’t be afraid ofthem, I think you turn out okay even with them. You are so loved, now and in thefuture. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I know you’re afraidto ask because people tell you you’re smart and you don’t want them to thinkless of you, but smart people ask for help too, so don’t worry about it. Nomatter what I love you and am proud of you!

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?I also answered this one, but the short answer is blonde, shoulder length and wavy!

#aesthetic asks #thank you!#this was fun!#Anonymous

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wolfin-time · 3 years

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liam dunbar

BASICS

FULL NAME: liam andrew dunbar NICKNAME(S): baby wolf, little wolf, pup, etc., reeses (only by emily, anyone else tries they get punched in the face) AGE: 18+ DATE OF BIRTH: august 10th ZODIAC SIGN: leo PLACE OF BIRTH: beacon hills, california ETHNICITY: white NATIONALITY: american GENDER: cis male SEXUAL ORIENTATION: very confused (bisexual) ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: very confused (biromantic) RELIGION: agnostic OCCUPATION: student LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english ACCENT: western american

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: dylan sprayberry HAIR COLOR: brown EYE COLOR: blue HEIGHT: 5′8″ WEIGHT: 160 lbs BUILD: muscular TATTOOS: scott’s pack symbol on his ankle, multiple other tattoos as he gets older, most of them gotten during college (click here for more info) PIERCINGS: none DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS: tattoos, fangs, claws & glowing yellow eyes when shifted

PERSONALITY

POSITIVES: loyal, protective, up for anything NEGATIVES: intermittent explosive disorder (but he’s working on it), can easily get violent, doesn’t think & just acts sometimes, occasionally unaware of surroundings/what’s happening LIKES: lacrosse, history, his pack, beacon hills, protecting people DISLIKES: his anger issues, bullies, hunters, biology

FAMILY

FATHER: dr. david geyer (step-father) MOTHER: jenna dunbar-geyer SIBLING(S): emily dunbar (younger sister), ivy geyer, harvey kinkle/dunbar, nate dunbar, PET(S): none FINANCIAL STATUS: upper middle class

BIOGRAPHY

life in beacon hills was pretty normal for liam, growing up with his best friend mason always at his side, constantly getting into fights with classmates thanks to his anger issues, & eventually channeling that anger into something a little more productive: lacross. although that didn’t exactly help, as he was kicked out of devenford prep for being just a little too aggressive on the field, which is how he ended up at beacon hills high school.

due to an unfortunate run of events, liam was bitten by scott & turned into a werewolf in order to save his life, & it wasn’t exactly an easy transition at first. his anger issues got the better of him for a while & it takes liam a lot of effort & time to learn to regain control of not only his anger, but of his wolf side as well. eventually, though, he becomes a reliable & loyal beta & teammate, stepping up in both areas when it hits him that scott is graduating; he tries out for– & earns– the spot as team captain for the lacrosse team, & takes up more responsibility within the pack in the chance he ends up being the main protector of beacon hills when scott eventually leaves.

VERSES

v;; three things cannot long be hidden (beacon hills)

follows canon & post-canon through his senior year at bhhs before leaving for college

v;; there’s got to be more to life than this (college)

with high school coming to an end, liam is forced to turn his attention & focus to the future-- his future. despite how his entire high school career has entailed, fighting supernatural creatures & hunters & keeping beacon hills safe isn’t all there is to life. as protective as he is of his family, his pack, his town, he knows he wants more than that.

he wants to study history. to play lacrosse at a higher level. to experience life like a normal teenager-slash-young adult. so that’s exactly what he does.

he applies-- & is accepted-- to jacksonville university in florida. he’s a walk-on with the men’s lacrosse team his freshman year, & immediately he’s offered an athletic scholarship to keep him & his talent there. he studies history. he spends slow weekends at the beach, oftentimes with his teammates. he loves everything about it. except for the distance. sure, stiles is in virginia, & lydia in massachusetts, but everyone else is still back on the west coast. he goes home to california as often as he can his freshman & sophomore years, but those visits drop to just during summer break & holidays after that, life in florida taking over as he finds his place in the world.

v;; far away but not separated (adult)

after graduating from college, liam manages to land a job with the smithsonian through a summer internship program he previously participated in, which sends him to one of their archive libraries in maryland. it certainly isn’t where liam would’ve ever seen himself ending up back in high school, but there isn’t anywhere he’d rather be. he’s immersed daily in history & research & he couldn’t be happier.

again, the only downside is being so far away from his pack & his family. but he always returns to beacon hills when he’s needed. plus, he keeps in regular contact with his packmates, both because he misses the constant contact & because he needs to make sure they’re all okay.

every once in a while there’s a supernatural problem that needs to be dealt with in new england, & he’s always ready to do so, sometimes with the help of stiles, & sometimes with other allied werewolves in the area, but usually on his own. but, any time scott calls for his help, he’s hopping on a plane to wherever he’s needed without question or hesitation.

v;; i can be the alpha (alpha)

while in florida, liam was attacked by a werewolf, alone. & of course it had to be an alpha. it was one hell of a fight, but given his even more heightened strength due to his i.e.d., liam was able to overtake the alpha. despite liam’s attempts at wounding them enough to get them to run, the only way he was going to win the fight was by killing them. so he did.

now an alpha, separated from his support group, liam has to learn how to not only deal with his new powers, but the fact that he actually killed someone.

v;; watch the castles burn. these golden ashes turn to dirt (dark liam)

based off this fic by the same name

the hunters finally did it. monroe won. the mccall pack was destroyed by a previously failed tactic. maybe that’s why they never saw it coming. gunning down scott & melissa’s house hadn’t gotten the results they wanted. but doing the same with stiles’ & the sheriff’s was successful. everyone inside the house was killed. wiped out by monroe’s army. the only ones to survive? the parents (because there’s nothing sweeter than the pain of them losing their kids, both by blood & by choice), derek, lydia, & liam. the only ones running late to what was supposed to be a christmas party.

liam snaps. in one fell swoop, he lost everyone. his alpha. his best friend. his partner. his anchors. his family. the only thing he can see is red. anger boils beneath his skin, everything but vengeance pushed from his mind.

the hunters responsible for this attack will pay.

& they do. it takes time, but eventually he finds the information he needs & hunts down every single person that fired a bullet into the stilinski house, & kills every one of them without reservation. the few times he’s spotted, he takes care of the witnesses, too.

with the last death, liam allows himself to be caught. he’s tired. he’s done. his quest for revenge finished, he has nothing else to live for. so he lets himself get taken in. questioned. argent & the sheriff manage to pull the right strings to get him into eichen house instead of thrown into prison. he accepts his fate.

until lydia, consumed by her own agony & fury, breaks him out with the promise of getting revenge on every single hunter left in this world. the bright blue flash of his eyes is enough of an agreement for them both.

there’s no rest until they’re all dead & the supernatural world is safe again.

v;; jaded wolf (shadowhunters)

liam’s life was no different from any other kid living in brooklyn: went to school, played sports, & spent most of his free time with his best friend, mason. sure, he might’ve been kicked out of one of the prep schools for his anger issues, but he was settling in well enough at his new public school– mostly because mason was already there, & that just meant they’d get to spend more time together.

until one day he finds himself out later than he probably should be, snooping around a place he probably shouldn’t be, & somehow gets in the middle of a not so minor scuffle. in an attempt to protect himself, liam ends up being attacked by– he’s not exactly sure what. responding cops say it was a wild dog, but he doesn’t believe that. he isn’t sure what he thinks attacked him.

not until a few weeks later when the world hidden away gets revealed to him. thanks to his anger issues, his first transformation is very unpleasant. if it weren’t for luke, who knows what sort of damage he might’ve caused.

vampires. werewolves. seelies. shadowhunters. the underworld.

a whole new life liam has to learn to navigate, along with just another reason to learn to get his anger under control. which isn’t exactly easy when he’s pissed that he’s in the situation he’s in. but at least he has a pack to help him. if he lets them.

v;; serve & protect (human cop)

tw: mentions of emotional abuse

a normal life in a normal town means liam is left to be, well....normal. some things are still the same, of course: his anger issues that result in him getting expelled from devenford after one semester, his i.e.d. diagnosis, transferring to the local public school where he gets to be with his best friends every day now, & he stops taking his meds because it screws with his ability to play lacrosse.

the main difference? liam finds himself in trouble more often than not since he hasn’t been able to find a way to control his anger, which leads him to meeting a local cop named jordan parrish, who after their fourth run-in, decides to take liam in under his wing. it isn’t long before jordan becomes like a big brother to him, mentoring him & helping him get his anger under control. by the time he graduates high school, liam has a firm grasp on his anger & hasn’t had a slip-up in almost a year.

he goes off to florida for college, where he meets a girl halfway through winter quarter, & he falls head-over-heels for her. everything is going great, with school, with jesse, with lacrosse. until their junior year & he has a slip-up with his anger; he’s beyond stressed over finals that quarter & he snaps at jesse. liam immediately regrets it & explains the situation, she forgives him, promises all is well. & it is. until she starts using his i.e.d. against him, intentionally setting him off & sparking fights between them, but always making up afterwards. unfortunately, he’s so blindly in love with jesse, he doesn’t see things for what they are: abusive.

it isn’t until emily comes to visit liam one weekend at school that anyone realises what’s happening. as soon as she returns home & tells their parents, liam is being pulled out of jacksonville & brought back home, away from jesse. back home, jordan helps him recover all over again, & liam transfers to a local college to finish up his degree. once he graduates, liam’s plans to do something with his degree falls to the wayside, & he decides to stay close to home instead, & becomes a cop, just like jordan. as soon as he gains his credentials & passes his training, captain stilinski assigns him & jordan as partners, knowing it’s what they both want.

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

when liam turns 23, he finds out that, not only has jesse been killed in an accident, but they have a kid as well, who no longer has her mother. being the only other family in the states, liam is given the option to take their daughter in. after one meeting with family services, liam is signing the necessary paperwork to bring his daughter home from florida to california.

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hannahberrie · 7 years

Text

Heat Spell

Fandom: Zootopia Pairing: Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps Rating: T WC: 7,375 Summary: In the midst of an intense summer in Sahara Square, Judy and Nick are both college students working as lifeguards at a local pool club. One-Shot.[AO3]

[A/N]: This was just a fun little one-shot I wrote to take a break from Something That Finds You. Very fluffy, very casual -- hopefully it isn't as scattered as I feel it is. Once again, many thanks to everyone who reads this, and any of my other works! Happy Summer!

Her feet burned against the asphalt of the parking lot as she hurried into work, the ends of her fur practically singeing in the heat. No one had arrived yet, other than the other employees, but the club opened in less than 10 minutes, which was cutting it far too close for Judy. She whipped her keycard out of her tote bag as she entered the lobby of the main building, grateful for the brief welcome of an air conditioner.

While the Sahara Square Aquatic Center wasn’t one of Zootopia’s busiest pool clubs, this past summer had driven it to be busy enough. After all, when it was so hot outside that waves radiated off the asphalt like a fever dream, mammals tended to head to the nearest source of water. Said source of water also happened to be the source of Judy’s income.

In retrospect, she felt pretty stupid for signing up for a job that involved being outside all day, in up to 100°F heat (and that was on the cool side). But she’d needed the cash; college wasn’t going to pay for itself, and neither was her too small apartment that was also too much money for such a too cramped space.

The club was nestled on the Zootopian Bay, a gleaming juxtaposition between rugged inner streets and bustling downtown of Sahara Square. There was the outdoor pool with its shimmering blue-green tiled edge, the patio with its sea of faded umbrella tables, the snack shack that was held together with nothing more than some rustic shiplap and countless coats of blue paint, and the beach in all its bright blue, crystal clear glory.

Even though the club was the busiest in the district, that didn’t mean it was the nicest, i.e., Judy found herself often on the short end of the stick. She was the lifeguard…and sometimes the pool-cleaner, and patio-sweeper, and lounge-chair-scrubber, and we-ran-out-of-ice-cream-so-you-need-to-run-to-the-store-and-get-some-more-er, and my-kid-threw-up-his-bugga-corn-dog-in-the-pool-can-you-clean-it-up-please-er.

But it was fine. It was money. And money meant Judy could pay for college, which would lead to the police academy, which would lead to the career of her dreams.

The main building housed the front desk, changing rooms, and employee’s area, and as of today, the whole thing seemed a million times larger than usual. It felt like it took ages to maneuver through the lobby and into the employee’s corridors, but she finally clocked in at exactly 8:54. That gave her exactly 6 minutes to change into her uniform (a navy, one-piece swimsuit, accessorized with a whistle), and hurry to the pool area. She checked her watch. 9:03.

Shoot.

She looked around frantically for her boss, worried that she was done for. After all, Judy Hopps was never late for anything, and yet here she was, completely slacking off! Was she going to get fired? She was going to get fired! This was it!

She planned out her apology in her head, already preparing for how she would beg for forgiveness, plead for her boss to overlook this mistake, that it would never ever happen again…

…Only to catch her boss, a pot-bellied mountain-lion, sitting under a patio umbrella, reading the latest issue of ZooWeekly, and munching on a Bugga Hot Dog he’d swiped from the snack shack — not noticing her at all.

Oh.

“Stress much?” A voice said snidely, cutting through her train of thought.

Judy stiffened. After being subjected to listen to this voice all summer so far, she would have recognized it anywhere. The one, the only, the insufferably cocky and inexplicably smug, Nick Wilde.

“I’m not stressed!” Judy replied, doing her best to look as disinterested as possible when she turned to look at him. Like talking to him didn’t send her into a whirlwind of complicated emotions.

Nick stood in that way he always did, wearing the same navy swim trunks he always did, and smirking the way he always did. Judy was 99 percent sure that he’d been born smirking like that. “Please, Fluff, I can see how wound up you are from a mile away,” he said, “You’re not gonna get busted for being 3 minutes late, ya’ know.”

“I know!” Judy said quickly. “That’s why I’m not stressed.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

Judy felt her face flush. “Right.”

Nick brushed past her as he went to take his post at the lifeguard chair — a rickety, hulking, white wooden seat that stood a few feet off the ground. It was adorned with countless Sharpied names and topped with an umbrella for shade. The club had been so much busier this summer that they’d needed 2 lifeguards this year, which meant Nick and Judy were going to spend a lot of time together this summer. Not that Judy exactly minded, or anything…

…And not that she was ever going to admit that. To anyone. Ever.

“I’ll take the chair for the first couple hours, then you can have it when we get busier,” Nick said as he climbed up.

Judy snorted. “How chivalrous of you.”

Nick winked at her before slipping his sunglasses off his head and over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“So how’s your summer job going?” Judy’s mother asked over MuzzleTime that evening.

Judy shifted from where she sat at her small desk, wrinkling her nose slightly. Her too-small apartment seemed to permanently reek of chlorine these days, no matter how hard she tried to scrub the scent off her fur and wash it off her sheets. She currently had a candle burning off to the side of her desk, something called “downy meadows.” It reminded her of Bunnyburrow. “It’s fine,” she said slowly, “It’s a job. I mean, it’s just for the summer, so…”

“Maybe you could become a professional lifeguard!” Her father piped up from somewhere off camera. “That’d be a heckuva lot safer than being a police officer.”

“Oh, yes!” Her mother agreed. “Your cousin Earl works as a lifeguard, you know, down at the swimming center in Deerbrooke. He gets to teach all the kits swimming and everything! You could work with him!”

“Mom,” Judy said carefully, evenly, “I’m going to be a cop.”

Her parents sighed. They’d had this conversation at least once a week, with Judy’s suggested careers ranging from a maid, carrot farmer, librarian, carrot farmer, receptionist, carrot farmer, preacher’s wife, carrot farmer, teacher, and how about, just maybe a carrot farmer? Judy honestly didn’t know why they kept trying, her reply was always the same.

“I thought you guys supported me,” Judy continued, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“We do!” Her mother answered quickly, “Right, Stu?”

“Right!” Mr. Hopps agreed, finally squeezing into frame beside his wife. “You know we do, Jude. But we just want you to be safe, is all.”

“Mom. Dad. Trust me, I can handle it. I’ve been living here in the city for almost 2 years now, all on my own!” Judy reassured them. “And besides, my job as a lifeguard is way more dangerous than being an officer. I’m pretty sure I’m fighting off heat stroke on a daily basis.”

The last part was meant to be a joke, but her parents didn’t seem to catch on, due to the alarmed shock on their faces and worried looks they exchanged.

“I’m kidding!” Judy quickly amended. “You guys don’t have to worry about me so much.”

Her parents looked relieved again. “You know we can’t help it, hun” her mother replied, giving her a soft smile. “Now you get some rest — it’s so late! You should be in bed!”

Judy glanced at the clock on her desk. 8:30. “Uh…right!” She said, holding back an adolescent-sounding whine that she was an adult now, and at 21 years old she wasn’t going to be told what time to go to bed, thank you very much. “I love you guys!”

“We love ya’ too, Jude!” Her father beamed, leaning too close to the MuzzleTime camera, as he always did.

“Buh-bye!” Her mother trilled, and with that, ended the call.

Judy slumped back in her chair as she set her phone down, exhaustion slowly starting to set in. Today had been slightly difficult, to say the least. Whether it’d be the hot sun, the long hours, a kit screaming over dropping his ice cream in the pool, Judy having to go into the pool and clean up the ice cream, or the mother of the kit yelling at Judy for the entire thing (like it was her fault that her kit had been trying to throw his ice cream at seagulls), it hadn’t been a fun day.

It didn’t help that Nick had hardly spoken a word to her all day long. Not that she cared about that. It was just an observation.

The bunny took a deep sigh. She took in the scent of downy meadows, the bustling and hustling murmur of the Zootopian streets outside, and the cool feeling of her wooden desk under her paws. Tomorrow was a new day.

Fingers crossed that it wouldn’t be worse.

“Can you put on a shirt, please?!” Judy huffed, hoping she didn’t sound as flustered as she felt.

“Nope,” replied Nick, who was currently sitting mere centimeters away from her. It was 102°F in Sahara Square today, which meant that instead of taking turns sitting in the lifeguard chair like they usually did, the fox and rabbit were both nestled under the small shade of the umbrella attached to the chair. It was Nick’s idea, not hers. They were seated side-by-side, legs practically touching, watching the pool club members splash around in the water below. Nick had brought a small, battery-powered fan that he’d attached to the back of the chair, and the faint cool breeze tickled the back of Judy’s neck. “It’s hot out, Fluff.”

“I know that,” Judy grumbled, forcing her eyes to stay where they were supposed to be, at the swimmers, and not the creamy, admittedly soft-looking fur of Nick’s chest. “But it’s still a part of your uniform.”

“Calm yourself, Carrots — I still got my swim trunks on, much to your dismay, I’m sure.”

Judy felt waves of heat radiate off her body, and it wasn’t due to the sun. “W-what are you talking about?”

Nick simply smirked, gaze hidden behind his sunglasses. “If you like the t-shirt so much, why don’t you wear it?” He replied instead, grabbing the wadded up white-and-navy shirt from the back of the chair and plopping it into her lap. “Merry Christmas.”

“I don’t want your sweaty shirt!” Judy exclaimed, tossing it back at him. “That’s disgusting!”

Nick laughed, the same delighted laugh he always gave when he teased her, something he apparently loved doing. It was the same laugh he’d laughed when he’d stolen her keycard and wouldn’t give it back until she admitted that he was “the best, handsomest, charming-est fox ever,” or that time when he’d given her a pawsicle, only to tell her (after she’d eaten it) that he may or may not have licked it before giving it to her. “Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!”

“Well, I’m not putting it on, so….”

“Fine then!” Judy huffed, crossing her arms. “Do whatever you want.”

“Well, I want to keep my shirt off.”

“Fine!”

“Great.”

The two were silent for a moment, their argument (which hadn’t even felt like a real argument — Judy wasn’t really mad at him, just uncomfortable with how much she wasn’t mad at him) apparently over. Finally, Nick broke the silence with a sly quip, “You know…I feel a lot cooler now. Not wearing a shirt really works. You should try it.”

“Can I see your whistle?” She asked lightly, turning to him and holding out her paw.

Nick’s brow furrowed but he shrugged. He pulled the lanyard off his head and handed it to her. “Sure, though I think putting something else on kinda defeats the whole idea of you wearing le—”

Judy chucked his whistle into the pool.

It hit the water with a soft ‘plink’ and disappeared beneath the waves.

“You sly bunny,” Nick sat in awe, still slack-jawed. “I guess I should have seen that coming,” he sighed, climbing down the chair to retrieve his whistle.

“You probably should have, Slick,” Judy teased.

“And I guess I deserved that,” he continued, hopping onto the pavement and wincing as the hot concrete hit his paws.

“You definitely did.”

“I got you lunch,” Nick said suddenly, tossing a foil-wrapped package towards her, “From the snack shack.”

Judy was sitting in the lifeguard’s chair when she looked down just in time to catch the unidentified flying object. “What’s this?” She asked, looking down at Nick.

“I gotcha lunch, Carrots,” Nick said, smirking cockily up at her, sunglasses on. As usual. “You’re welcome.”

Judy unwrapped the foil-covered sandwich and took a whiff. Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh, no thanks.”

“You don’t like fish?” Nick asked casually, catching the fish fillet sandwich she tossed back down to him.

“I’m not a bear,” Judy joked.

“That,” Nick replied, pointing a paw at her, “Is incredibly racist.”

Judy inwardly bristled as she felt herself laugh indignantly. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me,” Nick shrugged, taking a bite of her discarded sandwich.

“I do not!” Judy gawked, hating how squeaky her voice sounded. Ugh.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Nick says through a mouthful of fish. Gross. “No sense of denying your feelings, Fluff. They’ll just keep bottling up inside of you until you explode all over the tennis courts over there.”

“Oh really?” Judy countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, really. It’s simple science.”

“So you’re a psychologist now?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a detective,” Nick mused, balling up the foil wrapper in his paw, “That’s the plan, at least. And if I’m going to be a cop, I gotta have good insight, and all that. Which, thankfully, is one of my many natural-born talents.”

“A detective?” Judy gawked, “As in…a cop? But…I mean…it’s just…you’re…”

“I’m a fox?” Nick answered sarcastically, “Geez, Fluff, again with the casual racism. We really gotta work on that.”

“It’s not that!” Judy replied quickly. “It’s…” I never knew we had anything in common? I didn’t think that a sarcastic, suave, cocky fox would be interested in being a police officer? I just hate that this makes you more intriguing to me? “Just surprising, is all. And not because you’re a fox.”

“Well, I’d like to think I’m full of surprises,” Nick replied, pulling down his sunglasses to give her a wink.

Judy had a hard time speaking after that.

Summer dragged on, and with it, Judy’s patience wavered. The heat grew hotter, the screeches and beaches louder, and the days longer. There was only so much a bunny could take

This is why she was so irritable on the day when a trio of vixens sauntered into the club, tittering into their paws and whispering to each other like a group of school kits.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

The intense heat was definitely responsible for Judy feeling that churning feeling in her stomach when the vixens had all approached Nick, giggling so hard their designer sunglasses had nearly fallen off their muzzles. The fact that she’d been sitting in this chair for hours was the reason she seethed when Nick actually started talking to them. He’d been patrolling the pool area, keeping a close eye out while Judy stayed in the chair, and now he seemed completely enamored with these silly girls doting on his every word.

It was incredibly infuriating.

And not because she liked him, or anything. She didn’t. She was just already mad, on account of the hotness and loudness, and because Nick wasn’t doing his job. Someone could drown right in front of him and he wouldn’t even notice, not with all those vixens crowding around him and pestering him and batting their lashes at him.

It was for the safety of the other pool guests that Judy just had to go over there. She was just doing her job, really. Honestly!

She climbed down from the chair and stormed over to the group, trying to look as intimidating as possible (a feat that wasn’t easily achieved, considering that she was only two and a half feet tall, and by most mammals standards, ‘adorable’).

“Ahem!” She cleared her throat as she planted her paws on her hips.

“Hiya, Fluff!” Nick said lightly, turning his attention to the bunny, “What’s shaking?”

“Don’t you think you should be getting back to work?” Judy said, trying her best not to seethe as much as she wanted to. “We’re busy.”

“Give yourself some credit, Cottontail,” Nick glanced around. “I think you were doing a great job on your own.”

“Someone could drown!” Judy huffed. “What if I wasn’t looking?”

“Then maybe you should be looking,” Nick smirked.

“Nicky,” one of the vixens, a white-furred, slinky little thing, whined, “We were talking.” She put a lot of emphasis on talking, the same way Judy’s sisters often begged her mother after church services, “But Mom, 10 minutes ago you said we were leaving.”

Both Nick and Judy disregarded this. “I’m not going to do all the work while you sit back and slack off!” The bunny griped.

“Because you miss me?”

“No!”

“Nickyyyyyy.”

“You totally miss me, Fluff. It’s adorable.”

“I don’t miss you! I just need you,” Judy said through gritted teeth.

Nick wolf-whistled. “Well, well, well, Hopps, I knew you had the hots for me, but I didn’t expect you to just blurt it out. And you say I’m the one full of surprises.”

“I meant I need your help!” Judy snapped. “Now c’mon!” She lunged a paw forward and grabbed whatever of Nick she could reach (his arm), and pulled him back towards the lifeguard station.

“Fine,” Nick gave in, giving off a long, languid sigh. “I couldn’t bear to leave a bunny unsatisfied.”

“But Nicky!” The white vixen whined louder, stomping her foot and exchanging worried glances with her friends.

“Uh, we can talk later, maybe,” Nick said offhand, still in the midst of being dragged back to the lifeguard’s chair.

Judy pulled him up so he was seated beside her, then proceeded to return her focus to the pool. She could help but watch as the vixens sulked away, not before throwing Judy several dirty glares.

“You’re so jealous,” Nick said suddenly, interrupting her brooding.

“Can you stop that?!” Judy asked, flinching slightly.

“Stop what?”

Reading my mind. “Sneaking up on me!”

“I’m sitting right here. I hardly call that sneaking up on you,” Nick snickered.

Judy couldn’t think of a coherent retort, so she chose to say nothing. She was tired and hot and grumpy and a little more than embarrassed. Overall, she felt more deflated than the old beach balls in the supply shack.

Nick didn’t say much more after that. She saw him give her a look out of the corner of his eye, though with his sunglasses on, she had no clue what kind of look it was.

Not that she cared.

At least…not that much.

Closing time was always a special time of day. The club members were long since gone, leaving behind some forgotten ice cream sandwich wrappers and the thick scent of furtan lotion. The loud hiss of cicadas was replaced with the soft hum of crickets, accompanied with the gentle surf of the Zootopian Bay. The sky was pink and violet, and the air was cool.

Judy definitely wasn’t a nocturnal animal, but after working this job, she definitely saw the appeal.

She was cleaning the pool after hours, the same day as the whole vixens incident, when she caught sight of Nick leaving. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, an earbud hanging out of one ear, and in a rare change of pace, his sunglasses on top of his head. He was headed to the lobby when Judy called out to him.

“Nick!”

His ear twitched before he turned to look at her, eyebrow raised. “What?”

Judy stood there, holding her pool net as she stood at the water’s edge, instantly feeling incredibly stupid. What was she going to say to him? “I just…I wanted to say…uh…”

Nick eyed her.

“I’m sorry!” Judy blurted out quickly. “For today, I mean. I was acting weird. I shouldn’t have pulled you around like that.”

Nick shrugged. “Whatever. I shouldn’t have been slacking off.”

Judy just looked down at her feet. She’d always been such a confident bunny, never afraid of anything or willing to let anyone stop her. But with Nick…her limbs felt like jelly and her tongue was in knots.

“Besides, you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous,” Nick continued. Judy looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of one of his trademark winks.

“I am not!” She protested, “…Cute or jealous.”

Nick simply gave a casual wave and continued to saunter out, full of more cocky swagger than ever. “Goodnight, Fluff! Try not to miss me too much!”

“Not likely!” Judy shouted back, but he was already inside the lobby and after he left Judy realized her retort only made it sound like she was likely to miss him.

“You dumb bunny,” she groaned to herself, leaning on the handle of her pool net.

Which could have made for a peaceful moment, that is if the rickety piece of plastic hadn’t given way under her weight, and caused her to tumble face-first into the pool.

The perfect ending to a perfect day.

“I got you lunch,” Nick said, tossing her a sandwich.

“Fish?” Judy asked hesitantly.

“Nope,” he replied, climbing up to sit beside her.

Judy took off the foil wrapper to find a bug-burga before her, cicada-y glory and all. Shoot. “Oh, wow!” she said, trying to sound as upbeat as possible, “That’s…um…really nice, Nick, but…I…”

“Lemme guess,” Nick said dryly, “You don’t eat bug-meat.”

“Sorry,” Judy winced, handing the sandwich back to him.

“I got a chicken sandwich here if you’d like that,” Nick offered, holding out his lunch to her, “I took a bite out of it, but you and I both know that you wouldn’t mind swapping spit with me.”

Judy chose to ignore the latter sentiment. “I don’t really eat chicken, either,” she admitted.

“Jesus, Carrots,” Nick groaned, flopping back against the chair, “What do you eat?”

“I’m a vegetarian!” Judy answered defensively, “I eat greens.”

“Like grass?”

“No! Lettuce! And spinach! And nuts! Sometimes hay.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It’s not. You know, you could use a couple extra veggies in your diet,” she joked, leaning in to pat him on the stomach.

“Are you calling me fat, Fluff?” Nick gasped, feigning great indignation. “How dare you.”

“I’m not!” Judy giggled. “Everyone should eat healthily, is all.”

“And you should get a little meat on your bones, is all,” Nick countered, and with that, moved in to tickle her sides with quickly wiggling paws.

“S-stop!” Judy squealed, squirming and twisting in her seat. “You d-dumb f-fox!”

Nick only laughed, getting her on her stomach, her arms, her thighs — Judy had never known herself to be this ticklish before.

It wasn’t until the shrill cut of a whistle that Nick finally stopped. The fox and bunny parted to look up at their boss, who was looking a whole lot less amused than they were.

“You two!” He barked, snapping his fingers at them, “Eyes on the pool!”

Judy pulled away immediately, snapping up straight in her chair like she’d been yanked up by an invisible string. She couldn’t believe she’d been caught slacking off! What if she got fired? Would it go on her permanent record? She would have to put it on all her future job applications! Everyone would know! No one would ever hire her again! She would never become an officer and would have to slum around the streets of Zootopia for the rest of her life! She could see herself now, poor, homeless, jobless…

“Carrots,” Nick said, cutting through her thoughts, “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not!” Judy insisted, though even to her own ears, the lie was obvious.

In response, Nick only wrapped his arm around her back, keeping his eyes on the pool at all times, and gently rubbed her arm a few times before pulling away again.

So in short, Judy instantly knew what it felt like to be a melted popsicle.

The subway was an interesting experience, to say the least. They were filled with their fair share of oddballs, that was for sure (Judy would never forget her unfortunate bump-in with the naked Cow Boy), but for the most part, it was a relaxing end to Judy’s day. She could sit back in her seat, relax, and listen to Gazelle on her small iPawd. Plus, it was air conditioned!

On this ride home, she couldn’t help but think back to Nick. Nick’s arm around her, Nick’s creamy fur, Nick’s laugh, Nick’s smile, Nick’s thigh brushing up against her.

The annoying charming fox was in her mind while Gazelle was in her ear singing a sultry love song. It was one that used to always make Judy roll her eyes at how cheesy it was, but now it made her heart flutter and soar. The whole thing was so pathetic, really, and yet…

She felt so happy inside.

She found herself thinking about him, and wondering if he was thinking about her. She wanted to know more about him, to be closer to him.

Not because she liked him, or anything. She was just curious.

Curious enough to look him up on Instagram, and just browse through a couple…

(hundred)

…posts.

It was mostly selfies, almost all of them with that classic smirk of his. There were other things too, like a lot of food pictures from restaurants, showing off fancy-looking dishes Judy had never even heard of before. There were photos of him at school (it looked like he went to Zootopia UNI, same as her), with friends (a couple with a vixen, but those were all from over a year ago, so they still couldn’t be an item, right?).

She scrolled far back enough to find a selfie from a year back, in which he was holding up a Criminal Justice textbook with a goofy grin on his face.

[Finally picked out a major: say hello to the future Officer Wilde]

The caption was finished off with a sunglasses emoji, followed by a police car one.

Dumb fox.

He looked so happy, with that dumb smile of his, which made Judy smile even bigger. Maybe they’d have some classes together this fall! Would that be weird? Should she say anything? No, probably not. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how that conversation would go down. Hey Nick, so I was just Insta-stalking you the other night, and — no, no real reason, I was just…bored. Yeah! Really bored. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that just in case you weren’t sick of hanging out with me all summer long, we’re going to be spending all fall together too!

Judy frowned and shook her head. If Nick had any idea that she had been looking him up online, she would be completely mortified. He’d never let it go.

Feeling sheepish, she tapped her screen to back out of Nick’s profile…

…but not before her finger accidentally tapped Nick’s post, causing a giant, blaring red heart to flutter across the screen.

She. Liked. The. Post.

The post that he’d posted over a YEAR ago. A whole YEAR.

Judy dropped her phone like it was made of burning coals, causing it to clutter to the subway floor. Other riders looked at her with disdain, clearly perturbed to be interrupted by even the slightest of sounds, so Judy bent forward and picked it up again, cheeks hot. Thank heavens for her phone case.

Breathe, just breathe!

It wasn’t the complete, total end of the world. Maybe it wouldn’t even send Nick a notification that she liked it — apps could glitch sometimes. He had so many posts, maybe her like would disappear amongst the countless other likes he got on all her posts.

Judy groaned and pounded her head against the seat in front of her. “Dumb, dumb, dumb bunny!”

Work tomorrow was going to be loads of fun.

“Lunchtime, Carrots,” Nick called out.

Judy took her eyes off the pool to give him an exasperated look. “Nick! I can get my own lunch!”

“No you can’t. You gotta watch the pool. Do I really need to explain your job to you?” Nick hopped into the seat next to her and handed her yet another foil-wrapped package, though this one was noticeably more oblong in shape.

Judy eyed him warily. “Nick…”

“Just open it, Fluff.”

Judy sighed and unwrapped her lunch — expecting to find yet another bug-burga, or maybe some kind of chicken, or fish, or some other unappealing meat…

…Only to find green. A lot of green.

Judy glanced up at him. “What’s this?”

“Food.”

“What kind of food?”

“A wrap,” Nick answered, taking a bite into his own bug-burga. “Lettuce, spinach, dandelions, carrot shavings — basically, someone’s backyard in a tortilla.”

Judy took a bite, eyes falling closed in sheer pleasure. “This is amazing,” she gushed, taking several more bites, “Oh! And is that watercress dressing?”

“Sure? I dunno, the bunny working there said it was the ‘rabbit specialty,’ or whatever.”

“Well, it tastes incredible!” Judy paused. “Wait, where did you get this? We don’t have anything like this at the snack shack.”

“I may or may not have used my lunch break to make a snack run,” Nick answered, not looking directly at her. “And before you have an aneurism, yes, I did get permission from Boss Potbelly to leave. The place is right up the street.”

Judy couldn’t help but blush. Nick had used his break — the one break they got per day — to get specialty food just for her. That had to mean something, right? He cared!

Not that she cared.

She took another bite of her wrap. Pure deliciousness.

Oh, who was she kidding? She cared! She definitely cared and admitting it made her heart burst like it was made of rainbows and hearts and watercress dressing (the image sounded better in her head then it did in concept). She liked him and she wanted him to like her too, and maybe, just maybe, he did!

The thought made her grin like an idiot, and while her insides were flying, exploding, tumbling, all she could say was…

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Judes.”

Judy munched away at her wrap, completely content. The sun was shining, the pool was lively, the beach was bright and bursting with energy, and —

“And, uh, by the way,” Nick added casually, “Thanks for liking that Instagram post from last year. It’s truly touching.”

Judy choked on her wrap.

Tension: it had never been a more tangible thing than it was now. While it lacked in the drooping and mostly forgotten nets on the club’s tennis courts, it hung thick in the muggy summer air, as well as between the bunny and fox. Judy could feel it every time she and Nick sat side-by-side in their chair, this thick, electrifying connection between them.Their thighs would touch and the fan would tickle her neck and she felt this constant pressure — expanding, pressing, growing.

It was sweltering.

She felt it when a couple of bucks came into the pool one day and started calling out to Judy. Their cat-calls were juvenile, and Judy easily ignored them, but it caused Nick to tense, stiffen. He’d drummed his fingers against the slide of the chair, crossed his legs, uncrossed them. Clenched his paws, unclenched them. Took his sunglasses off, put them back on.

Finally, after the bucks had shouted from the pool just exactly what they’d like to do to her in said pool (something involving their ‘pool noodles,’ really, pool noodles), Nick had stormed over to them and yelled at them so forcefully and so scarily that their boss actually looked up from his copy of ZooWeekly to reprimand him.

“Nick, stop yelling at the guests,” he said tiredly, then promptly returned to the scathing article on Catty Perry.

After the bucks had left (in a huge hurry, no doubt), Judy had blinked at Nick in shock. “Nick!” she exclaimed as he climbed into their chair, “You shouldn’t have done that! They were just dumb jerks!”

Nick gave a dry laugh. “Doesn’t mean they have any right to talk to you like that.”

He had a point. Besides, seeing him rush to her defense like that…she couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t like it.

She felt tension like this in other moments, like when those vixens had returned. They’d sauntered in together, swimsuits too small and giggles too shrill, waving at Nick excitedly. Judy felt the tense feelings bubble up within her, causing her to stiffen in her seat and her stomach to tighten.

But instead of going over to talk to them, Nick had simply given a polite wave and stayed right next to Judy.

Was he just doing his job? Or was there something more? Judy still wasn’t sure, and she hadn’t had the nerve to ask.

She was just happy he’d stayed.

Moments strung themselves out across days, intertwining in time and becoming one fluid stream of consciousness. In the heat of summer, Judy often found herself forgetting what day it was, and time itself seemed to slow and crackle in the sun.

Moments, tension…

There was that time when Judy was eating a popsicle and Nick had been looking a little too long, a little too intently…

When Judy wished him goodbye at the end of the night, and moved in for a hug, instead of the usual, distant wave…

When Nick had walked her to the subway station, on that night there was a rare thunderstorm…

They’d gotten caught in the storm before they’d made it to the station, and Nick had given her his hoodie to protect her from the rain. The wind and rain and thunder had picked up and crashed down in a roaring display, and Judy could still remember how hard she laughed when a stray palm leaf had billowed off a tree and smacked him in the face. Her laughter had nearly been swallowed up by the storm, but he’d still heard and he’d still nudged her in that playful, innocent way. When they finally made it to the station, she’d moved to take off the hoodie, but he’d stopped her.

“Keep it,” he’d said lightly, then, after she’d given him a startled look, “I mean, it’ll probably still be raining by the time you get home.”

So she’d kept it. The hoodie was still in her apartment, folded neatly on her nightstand, and she wasn’t eager to return it.

There were all the times he’d wrapped his arm around the back of the chair, casually, not quite touching her, but near all the same, and played with the ends of her ears…

Or when he’d started following her on Instagram, liked a post from almost two years ago, an embarrassingly endearing one of her leaving Bunnyburrow to move to the city — she was all teary-eyed, arm-in-arm with her parents, and wearing a sweater that said, This Bunny Loves Carrots!, (knitted by her mother)…

Judy knew this was all cumulating to something. The tension crackled and sparked between them, one without a name or clear meaning, and within time, she knew it would come bursting to the surface, crashing hard and fast over them like a breaking wave in the bay.

August was right around the corner, threatening the bubble of summer bliss. The heat grew so intense that even the cicadas grew weary. The tar that’d been hastily slapped over potholes bubbled in the parking lot. Pawsicles began to melt the second they left the cooler of the snack shack. In heat this intense, even the guests had lulled. Preferring to stay in the comfort of their air-conditioned homes, the number of attendants began to dwindle.

In the past, Judy’s boss ordering her to stay late and clean the pool would have been immensely irritating, but today she welcomed it.

The second her boss left, she hopped right into the pool, net in paw. Getting to stand in the water with her pool net and simply soak it all in was heavenly after such a long, boring shift.

Eventually, she got so entranced with swimming around that she actually forgot she was supposed to be cleaning. Her pool net floated off towards the deep end as Judy floated on her back, eyes closed, listening to the soothing roll of the beach juxtaposed with the soft rumble of Sahara Square’s nightlife.

Yup. This is was heaven was like.

“So, Carrots, are you like, dead?”

Judy jumped up, startled by the sudden interruption. She was only in the shallow end, so she was free to stand up and investigate. She looked around wildly before catching sight of Nick, who was currently watching her from the edge of the pool. He still had his club swim trunks and t-shirt on, though his sunglasses were noticeably absent.

“No!” She blushed, glancing around the empty club. “What are you still doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I was, well, I was supposed to be cleaning the pool. I mean, I am cleaning it. I was just…”

“Messing around?” Nick finished. Something about the way he said it made Judy’s heart skip a beat — his voice dropped a note and his eyes fixed on her.

“Y-yeah,” she replied. Ugh, she hoped her voice didn’t come out as squeaky as it sounded just then.

“Mind if I join you?”

Before Judy could reply, the fox jumped right in, shirt and all. She gasped as the water splashed over her, getting in her eyes and blinding her.

“Nick!” She sputtered, wiping at her eyes frantically.

When she’d finally gotten the water out of her eyes, he was gone. Judy’s brow furrowed in confusion. One minute he’d been right in front of her, then seconds later he’d completely disappeared.

“What the—?”

“Boo.”

The voice was in her ear, right behind her, and she whirled around frantically to see a dumb, laughing fox.

“Y-you should have seen the look on your face!” He cackled, absolutely in stitches.

“That wasn’t funny!” Judy huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “How were you so quiet?”

“That’s called predator instincts, Fluff,” Nick said with a wink, voice low, “Back in the day, that’s how we foxes used to hunt cute little bunnies like yourself.”

“Right,” Judy said with a snort. She was shocked that her voice came out so nonchalant, considering her heart was currently picking up to beat at dangerous speeds.

Nick simply smiled at her before swimming off to the deeper end of the pool, then circling back. “So, this feels amazing.”

“It really does,” Judy agreed. She tried to relax again, but when Nick was swimming so close to her, that was basically out of the question.

“Race ya’ to the deep end!” Nick called out, swimming away from her again. His arms and legs kicked up quickly, sending a flurry of water in her direction.

“No fair!” Judy gasped, coughing from the water that subsequently went up her nose. “You got a head start!”

“Slowpoke!” Nick called back.

Judy’s face set with determination as she charged after him, swimming as fast as she could. Within seconds, she met his pace and passed him.

“Bye!” She giggled over her shoulder, before charging ahead to the end of the pool. Nick shouted something in reply, but she couldn’t hear it above the sounds of hurried splashing and her own laughter.

She slapped a paw against the wall of the deep end, stopping to catch her breath. When she looked back, Nick was still trailing behind, an impressed grin on his face. “Okay, h-how the h-hell are you so fast?” He panted, gripping the pool edge with one paw as he came to a stop.

“That’s called predator instincts, Slick,” Judy replied haughtily, “Back in the day, that’s how we bunnies outran big foxes like yourself.”

Nick laughed and shook his head, still out of breath from swimming so fast. “Touché, Cottontail.”

Judy just beamed at him, feeling quite proud of herself, to say the least. “Dumb fox.”

“Fast bunny.”

Their eyes met and Judy looked away quickly, flitting up to the sky above. Dusk was moving in, causing the sky to turn a deep, velvet purple accented with tiny diamond stars. She could hear the crickets beginning to hum, their cadence a familiar tune that reminded her of summer nights in Bunnyburrow, summer nights here, with Nick…

“I don’t want summer to end,” she said suddenly, the words coming forth before she’d even completed the thought in her head.

“Me neither,” Nick murmured, and when Judy looked down from the stars, she saw that he’d gotten close.

Really close.

His muzzle was less than a foot away from hers, and his eyes, piercing and emerald and jelly-leg-inducing, were locked onto hers.

She gulped. Oh, sweet cheese and crackers, this was it, wasn’t it?

Tension, palpable, tangible, electrifying.

“Can you stop that?” Judy mumbled, voice suddenly sounding hoarse.

“Stop what?” Nick asked. He moved closer.

Making me want to kiss you. Judy’s heart tightened in her chest her eyes locked view with his muzzle. As clichéd as it sounded, time really did feel like it stood still — suspended with the way Nick was looking at her, moving closer to her, moving a paw up to cup her cheek. The sounds of the water and the bay and the crickets and the city all faded away, leaving the muted murmur of their legs kicking under the water, her nervous, wary breaths.

Her paw, still gripping the edge of the pool, locked down tightly.

Judy searched her mind for a response, something like, ‘annoying me,’ or ‘being insufferable,’ or even ‘driving me up the freaking wall.’ But nothing came. She tore her gaze up and away from his mouth, and looking into those emerald green eyes again, she realized she’d never wanted anything more intensely.

And so…

…She took the plunge.

“Making me like you,” she whispered, and with that, she leaped into his embrace. He caught her quickly, nearly careening back into the water, but when his arm wrapped around her waist, she’d never felt more safe and secure. Their muzzles met roughly and a little messily, the taste of sweet pawsicles contrasting with the salty taste of sweat and bitter tinge of chlorinated water. In the traditional sense of the word, it wasn’t perfect. And yet, Judy wouldn’t have traded this feeling for the world.

They parted after what felt like only minutes, or maybe years. Judy’s head was spinning and she still didn’t have a good grasp on the whole time thing. Nick was smiling at her, though he winced slightly as the arm that wasn’t around her, but instead gripping to the edge of the pool, gave way. The two parted and dunked under the water, resurfacing with a shared laugh.

“Maybe if you ate more grass, you would know how to hold up a bunny properly,” Judy giggled, brushing her ears down flat as she sputtered up some water.

“Look Carrots, now matter how much I like you, I’m never gonna eat grass for ya’,” Nick said simply, wrapping his arms around her waist as they swam in place together.

“Not even a dandelion?”

“Hell no.”

“Spinach leaf?”

“I’ll just stick to my Carrots, thanks,” Nick said, his voice a low rumble as he pulled her against his chest, “…If you’ll let me.”

“Always,” Judy murmured. She pushed her muzzle forward and buried her face into his damp chest, taking in every scent, sound, and feel of this completely perfect moment. Chlorine and musky violets, crickets and rushing waves, fur — thick and wet.

Pure bliss.

#wildehopps #zootopia #zootopia fanfiction #berrie fics #wildehopps fanfiction #nick x judy #judy x nick #zoo 3 fic

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