#i dunno what his tag is or even if he has one separate from regular ben | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hteragram-x · 3 years

Text

Firefighter AU (again)

It’s been a while since I posted anything about this AU, but I got some inspiration and finished new short story. This time about Virgil and Remus briefly discussing their jobs and characters. I think you can read it separately and still get what’s going on, but if anyone’s interested I’ll link previous related posts.

[HERE] is the introduction, [HERE] are some general HCs, and over [THERE] you can find previous story where Remus and Virgil met for the first time :>

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

Word count: 1348

Relationships: technically Dukexiety, but they’re not there yet

TW: mentions of fire (what a surprise), mentions of dead animals, mentions of a car crash, swearing

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

The phone rang for about half a second before Virgil picked it up and gave his practiced introduction. It was calm and quick. Then he fell silent and let the woman on the other side of the line speak, listening carefully and responding with a few instructions. In an even voice he explained that the team has already been sent, that the fire engine was on its way. That there was no need to panic and that someone else has already called and now the only thing she should do is patiently wait, sit at a safe distance from the flaming car, and keep him updated if anything bad happened before the brigade arrived.

He made sure the woman was safe, said goodbye, and let the conversation end.

Then he leaned deeper into his chair with a heavy sigh.

“I have a question!”, the loud yell right behind Virgil nearly sent him flying to the floor. He glared at Remus, clutching his headset and trying to readjust it before it slid off his ears. Why was he still surprised by these random outbursts? He should have gotten used to them weeks ago.

“What kind of question”, he asked in a tired voice very much aware that getting mad at Remus would only make his behaviour more annoying. Or worse… it’d make Remus upset... “The one I answered forty nine times already or something new?”

“A new one!”, Remus beamed sitting on a spinning office chair and moving closer to Virgil. “And if you’re exaggerating anyway you could’ve said sixty nine. That would’ve cost you nothing.”

“It would also cost you nothing to not say that right now, and yet you did”, was a slightly drained response.

"I always do!”, Remus giggled in a surprisingly cute way and leaned even closer, still remembering to not push Virgil too far from the desk. They were both currently at work, so distracting his co-worker too much and slowing down his response for even a few seconds could have potentially tragic consequences. Remus was definitely a careless person, but not when it came to other people’s lives. That fact was often shocking even to those who knew Remus for a very long time.

Virgil lifted an eyebrow making a “go on” kind of gesture with his right hand.

“Okay”, Remus started excitedly sounding as if he was trying to hype himself up to do something difficult. “How do you do it?”

Virgil lifted his second eyebrow in a silent question.

“I mean: how do you stay calm during the calls. Why do you even work here? I can scare you by saying “boo” in quiet monotone. And then you talk with panicking people who just crashed their car into the lamppost like it’s nothing!”

To Virgil’s credit he put a lot of effort to making his brain not fixate on the “Why do you even work here?” part of Remus’ words and not see it as a kind suggestion to fuck off. He mostly failed, but the intensions were there.

“I- I’m not sure”, he responded carefully after a moment filled with sounds of a chair squeaking under Remus who was usually unable to stay still for more than four seconds. “I have a separate… headspace for work, I suppose. I dunno how to explain it. Just like… switching to a different mindset when it’s something professional. Don’t you have the same thing with putting down the fire? I assume you don’t stare creepily at other people when you enter the building that’s in flames”, he added with a small smile, reminiscing their first encounter.

“Usually I don’t”, Remus answered with slightly disturbing, cheerful honesty that Vigil learnt to expect from his chaotic co-worker. “But, yeah… you’re right. I can be calm when I’m professional. And I’m way less tempted to taste fire when I’m fighting it. You know? Like… you don’t think so much about eating a bear when it’s chasing you down the extremely narrow path where trees are getting closer and closer until the forest gets very dark and there is no way to escape anymore.” Remus finished a rushed sentence with wide, light-hearted smile that lit up his face not unlike a lighter with which he almost singed his moustache on regular basis.

Virgil blinked at him and slowly shook his head.

“O- One thing at a time, okay?”, he answered finally. “Let’s leave the bear out of this for now. I know I shouldn’t ask, but did you just say that you’re ‘tempted to taste fire’?”

“Yeah!”, Remus answered with enthusiasm sending Virgil another bright smile that somehow still looked nice despite some unhinged glint always present in his green eyes. “You can make so many tasty things with fire. Like grilled vegetables! Or…”

For some reason, the fact that Remus was vegan never failed to astound the confused operator. Maybe his dietary choices would be less unexpected if he also didn’t rate every dead animal he ever saw on the street on a scale from ‘probably inedible, not enough fur’ to ‘no one touch that! It’s my lunch’.

“…or potato chips!”, Remus finished a long list of foods. ”Those are kinda made with fire?”

“…yes?” Virgil said carefully, not really sure where this line of logic was even going.

“See?! Fire makes tasty things. Ergo, hypothesis, fire is tasty too!”

“That’s… that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard today…”

“Well, jokes on you, because I’ve said something much more stupid only twenty minutes ago. You just weren’t there!”

“I’m not sure this defence is as strong as you think…”, Virgil sighed, annoyed at himself for a tiny bit of fondness that seeped into his voice. “Anyway! Please don’t eat fire.”

“Fine”, Remus said tipping his head back with a huff. “You’re so boring.”

“And you’re a dumbass. I can’t believe I was scared of you at first…”

“You were?!”, Remus asked delighted despite knowing this information before. It was always nice to hear that he actually frightened someone, even if it was a guy scared of drinking with a straw for the fear of chocking on it one day. Or maybe especially if it was that guy.

“Shut up…”

Surprisingly, Remus did fell quiet. They sat in silence for a few minutes glad that the phone stayed silent as well. It was nice to have a few minutes of peace and calm before someone else needed help. It meant that people were safe and it let them just appreciate each other’s company in the half-empty office.

“By the way… I do get the whole ‘work mindset’ thing”, Remus continued suddenly as if they never stopped or changed the topic. “It’s like I have a separate brain and personality that kick in when it comes to these things. I see everything differently.”

Virgil nodded in understanding.

“I’m less scared when I know I have to help someone.”

“Exactly!”, Remus exclaimed, once again almost making Virgil fall out of his chair. “I have that too, but I become more serious instead! So you’re a coward, but a protective one. Got it.”

“Get out of my office.”

Remus laughed and didn’t make a single move to exit the room. He sat more comfortably in his chair, reaching into a pocket for his favourite lighter with luminescent tentacles painted over sparkly black background. It was one of the most “Remus” things Virgil has ever seen.

The next stretch of silence didn’t last as long as Virgil would have wanted. After about a minute his phone rang again, distracting his from very vivid visions of the firehouse burning to the ground because of Remus’ negligence. He gave his colleague a brief smile and promptly answered the call, his head immediately clear – the thoughts about anything irrelevant temporarily forgotten. Few seconds later the alarm went off and the dishevelled firefighter jumped off the chair with a serious expression. He gave Vigil last look seeing his focused eyes and calm, patient face. Then he switched his own brain into appropriate mode and run out of the room towards Roman and the rest of his brigade.

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

Next part is [HERE].

---

My one-person general taglist: @imma-potatoo

My one-person taglist for this AU: @isabelle-stars

I used the term “taglist” very loosely here :D

44 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Could I be curious for a hot second? I swear I saw in a post you did the other day that you haven’t read ACD canon? This is absolutely not a judgement ask or anything but I’m always curious to find out how/why people resist reading the original works of modern adaptations. Is it just not your cup of tea or did you watch Sherlock for the actors? etc. I’m one of those who when they love something, it quickly becomes an obsession and have to read every book, article, Twitter post there is about the thing before I’m satisfied..

Also could I add in, what do you think of Tiny Little Houses - I Hate That You’re Happy for Johnlock Playlist?..

Thank you for all you do, I think I basically save every one of your posts to read later..it’s a lot!

HI LOVELY!!

OOOF I dunno how or when I got this and totally missed it, but I totally apologize because this is a quick-response ask. Tumblr’s been... hiding new stuff from me lately, and it’s kinda frustrating :|

ANYWAY: Firstly, I’m gonna mention that I’m putting the JLPL suggestion on a separate ask that is now behind a SLEW of Playlist submissions (I dunno why it’s suddenly popular again, LOL) so keep an eye out for that in the coming weeks LOL.

Secondly, no offense taken at all to the boldness of your ask; I’ve actually been asked this quite often and honestly I DON’T have a good reason.

So yeah, honestly? These are good questions, and fun ones to reply to. Ah, I actually have my besties to thank for me getting into Sherlock. Believe it or not, I didn’t really know much about Ben until I saw Sherlock; my first recollection of seeing his face was as Khan in Into Darkness, and I loved that movie (I know I’m among a small few who do love ST:ID; I KNOW the problems with it, I just REALLY like everyone’s acting in it), and I knew of Martin, actually, which is why I agreed to watch the show. So yeah, I went to visit my friends one weekend, and on the Sunday night before I left (it was a holiday weekend, so I always leave on the Monday), we pulled up Netflix and put it on. I WAS FASCINATED. I LOVED IT. We only got through the first season, so when I got home, I torrented that bitch and watch all of S1 and S2 in one sitting the following weekend. And I already had a Tumblr at that time, so I just... lurked blogs, and then I started getting really into it.

Long-short, this blog was created just before S3, so I could start interacting with other fandom people, and try my hand at meta (which I partook in extensively on the regular until everyone left). The name “inevitably-johnlocked” actually came about because I was a platonic bromance shipper when I first saw the show, until I got REALLY into it, and started educating myself and interacting with very lovely queer people, who in turn gave me the gift of self discovery. I was, rightfully so, inevitably destined to be a Johnlocker :) I laugh to myself about that all the time. It’s not even funny, but I have a few little easter eggs all over the place on my blog / posts that if you know small things about me, they’re rather amusing to weird people like me.

BUT ANYWAY, that wasn’t your question, LOL. With regards to ACD canon, truth is exactly this: I just never got around to it. I’ve no reason to NOT read them, I’m just a literal garbage human who eats fanfiction like Skittles. I haven’t read anything OTHER than fanfiction in literal YEARS. I think the last book I bought was the Inkheart Trilogy (WHICH BY THE WAY THERE NEEDS TO BE A JOHNLOCK AU FOR, where John is either the writer or the Silver Tongue [or both], his kid is Meggie, Mary has died / left him, and Sherlock is either his creation or we’ll go really meta and he IS the ACD character, and that’s how he meets John Watson, but I digress. I think about this a lot), which I love dearly. But I just haven’t really taken a break from reading fanfics since like... twenty... fourteen? Yeah, that’s when S3 came out. And then, yeah, I just read downloaded books now on my phone, and I just... never got around to downloading the ACD canon books. I know exactly where to get them, but I guess I’m just SO immersed in the BBC canon that I do like you do, except with EVERYTHING BBC canon, LOL. Except S4, LOL, that can go burn in the dumpster.

(as an aside, my consumption and adoration and obsession of fanfics works in everyone’s favour, really: I get content, you guys get more and more stuff to read that has my good-for-nothing-seal-of-approval, and because of the kind of neuroticism I do have, everything is meticulous and evolves with the fandom)

So yeah, TL;DR: I’m lazy. That simple. And I know it would probably be better for me to read them so that I can answer stuff with certainty, but I’ll be blatantly honest: I LOVE being a middle person to the interactions between y’all, and when you guys impart your knowledge onto me about stuff. It helps keep my blog interactive, and honestly, that’s fun :)

Cheers for your lovely compliments on my blog, hahah. Yeah, I’ve a lot of posts, so if there’s anything specific you’re looking for, let me know, or I probably have a tag for it <3 Take care!! <3

#steph replies #chatting with lovelies #about me #fandom life #sherlock fandom #acd vs bbc canon #im-you-arent-i #also someone please write the inkheart inspired au please #maybe I should try #it's on my list along with my skyrim and dragon age au's I wanna write lol #sherlock headcanons #just so i can find it again lol #the inkheart movie did the book dirty by the way #still love it though #bless brendan frasier

31 notes · View notes

sepublic · 4 years

Text

Season 1B Sneak Peek!

There is… SSSOOOOO much to unpack here, that I won’t even bother trying to fit it into one post. I’ve got a dozen thoughts going on at once, so I’ll try to do one at a time, and go from there.

So! Really Small Problems…!

The premise seems obvious- King is tagging along with Luz, Willow, and Gus at a fair! Meanwhile, it seems that Eda is doing her own thing, hosting a stand that is a ‘Human Horror House’, but it’s just pictures of Luz. Unsurprisingly, she’s capitalizing on the novelty of Luz being a human, but thankfully in a way that lets Luz do as she pleases. Does Luz know about these photos? I guess it doesn’t matter…

King is clearly concerned that he is no longer a ‘friend’ to Luz, and it’s obvious that he has one of those friendship necklaces, consisting of two halves of a heart, that he wants to give to Luz- But I bet that she’s having so much fun with Willow and Gus, that they’ll forget King.

While the three are clowns in a photo stand-in, King is a trash can, and he notices this.

So King, depressed and down on his luck, comes across a stand with what is CLEARLY Tibbles in disguise… but this is King here, let’s be real, so he doesn’t notice. Of course Tibbles’ stand advertises that it’s ‘Best with friends’, to rub the salt in King’s wound, because he has obviously noticed King’s dilemma and is planning to manipulate him with it.

If I had to guess, he gives King a potion- Possibly a friendship potion to make Luz pay more attention to him. And…

Well, you can guess what happens next; The four of them shrink. Willow and Gus do their own thing and get involved with a one-eyed fly. Either before or after this, Tibbles shows off the captured kids as an attraction of sorts, and we also have King dealing with a manic unicorn.

(Gee, what did Willow and Gus do to you? Probably nothing, he’s just keeping them for profit but still, jeez!)

I dunno where Eda is during all of this, her deal is probably a separate B-plot, as the main focus is between Luz and King’s specific friendship. However, we have a shot of her, Luz, and King reacting to Tibbles without Willow and Gus in sight. Could this be the end of the episode, with Luz and King recounting what happens, while Tibbles shows up to vow revenge again, or maybe even THANK the two for being a good attraction?

Anyhow, we all know that Luz, King, Willows, and Gus get back to regular size; And then we have an elated King crying out “Oh, you!” from a previous promo at Luz. If I had to guess, she noticed and/or remembered his necklace, or got one for him on her own- Either way, these two have a friendship that is inseparable!

Honestly I’m LOOKING FORWARD to this episode, I love King-centric episodes and I utterly adore Luz and King’s friendship! It’s so kind and precious, how she’s the only one who really listens to and gets him, and how amidst all of his hunger for power, King clearly has a spot for Luz alongside him in his dreams of conquest! And Luz is always humoring his fantasies, and enjoying him as someone she can actually share her interests with alongside Amity! I just LOVE these two, and I can’t wait for this episode!

(Also I loathe Tibbles’ guts but he’s honestly kind of adorable here. Oh jeez, what if he were the counterpart to King- Two demons who are cute but have power-hungry aspirations?!)

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house king #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house tibbles #speculation #theory #analysis

84 notes · View notes

umbral-stigmata-unbound · 3 years

Text

Meet the Muse +4

// Multimuse = Long Post, separated by Pics, the four under the cut so it’s not too long for people scrolling ^^; but tagged by the lovely @oflockhearted !! Thank you, dear, this is fun, I hope this entertains! XD Sephiroth first, then Reno, then Vincent, then Kadaj //

► Name ➔ Sephiroth.

► Are you single ➔ Of course.

► Are you happy ➔ *laughs*

► Are you angry? ➔ I prefer passionate.

► Are your parents still married ➔ Funny.

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ If the sealed reports are to be believed...Nibelheim. Why does that matter?

► Hair Color ➔ Silver.

► Eye Color ➔ Icy emerald.

► Birthday ➔ And just why is that important? // IE Mun can’t find it, if it’s even mentioned anywhere lmao //

► Mood ➔ Determined.

► Sex ➔ Waste of time, generally.

► Summer or winter ➔ Winter, I suppose.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Morning.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ No. What’s the point in it?

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ No. Love is enough of a waste, and love at first sight is pitiful childs’ fairy tale to make them believe there’s endless good waiting for them.

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ Never had one.

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ Many times, I’m sure.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ ---

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ ---

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Yes. I believe they called themselves the Silver Elite.

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ ...

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ Neither.

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ Neither.

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Cats.

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ ..Once I might have said a few. But neither.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Neither.

► Day or night ➔ Night.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Once. I learned.

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ No, despite people trying.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ ..No. // oh please, mama’s boy //

► Wanted to disappear ➔ ---

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ Eyes--they’re clearer to read.

► Shorter or Taller ➔ Hmm... Shorter. // he could’ve pretended to not understand the question, and yet...//

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Intelligence.

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ No.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ ---

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ I’d say that’s an understatement.

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ You have to have a home, to run away from it, correct?

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ ---

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ You have to have friends, to hate them. But no, I’d never hate them secretly. They would know.

► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔ ---

► Who is your best friend ➔ ---

► Who knows everything about you ➔ No one. // jesus that’s a damn depressing ending //

► Name ➔ Codename = Reno

► Are you single ➔ Yeah, can’t really be tied down with this thrill of a life, now can I?

► Are you happy ➔ Sure, plenty.

► Are you angry? ➔ Only when dumbasses test my patience.

► Are your parents still married ➔ Why is that your business?

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ Nosy little runt, aren’t you?

► Hair Color ➔ Sexiest red you’ll ever see.

► Eye Color ➔ Green.

► Birthday ➔ --- // still don’t know fnajflakfa //

► Mood ➔ Feisty~

► Sex ➔ Fuck yeah.

► Summer or winter ➔ Summer. The lower dip, the better, I like a free chest.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Afternoon, best energy there.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ Does being in love for the night count? *wiggles eyebrows*

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ Nah, not really.

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ Me, of course. Business before pleasure~.

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ Probably *shrugs* But I’m sure they enjoyed the ride.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ No way--not if it’s worth while.

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Hugged, no. Tackled? Let me count, there was Elena, that ass from the street, Rude when when he threatened my ponytail with scissors, *counting on fingers, continues on mumbling*

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Hell yeah, probably // have you though //

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Hell no... Only one that’s gonna treat me right is me.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ Hmm, lust. More fun, less bullshit.

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ Lemonade, I guess. Is it spiked?

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Why not both? Lamo.

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ A few--easier to trust, know they got your back.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Catch me running the streets shirtless before you catch me cuddling up at home, man. // unless you find the right person to catch you smitten tho //

► Day or night ➔ Eh, guess it depends on what I’m doing. Day, better for work with clear skies. Night, better mood for some fun. Or espionage.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Not yet~ *winks* // yes he has //

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ No, what kind of question is that?! Did Elena say something?!!

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Not that I can remember...

► Wanted to disappear ➔ Nope!

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ I dunno, both are okay? Smiles can be nice but they can be smug too. Eyes are...eyes?

► Shorter or Taller ➔ How about both?

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Eh, both have their merits.

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Hook up--for those who think they can handle me.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ Sure.

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ My life made me who I am *shrugs*

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ Plenty.

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ Oooh yeah~

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ Maybe *shrugs*

► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔ Partners in crime, sometimes literally.

► Who is your best friend ➔ If you really have to ask, move along. // Boi in the Shades, of course //

► Who knows everything about you ➔ No one, really, but I guess one or two people know enough.

► Name ➔ Vincent Valentine

► Are you single ➔ Yes.

► Are you happy ➔ I suppose I am, moreso now.

► Are you angry? ➔ No.

► Are your parents still married ➔ My parents are...no longer living.

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ Kalm // fanon, sry //

► Hair Color ➔ Black

► Eye Color ➔ Crimson red--runs in the Valentine family.

► Birthday ➔ October 13th, 1950

► Mood ➔ Calm, I suppose.

► Sex ➔ Why is this a question..?

► Summer or winter ➔ Winter.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Afternoon.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ No... Not anymore.

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ No. People likely believe they experience it, but it’s never true--be smart. Get to know the person, not what you imagine of them.

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ *sighs* Never exactly had one, and I’m really not understanding the need for these kinds of questions...

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ A few...yes.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ Never was before. Failure crippled me for a time, but not anymore.

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Do I look like a hugger? // he gets hugged, but his arms are usually crossed as an excuse not to hug back //

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Doubtful.

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Yes.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ Love, I suppose.

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ Never drink much of either.

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Cats, I suppose. No real problem with dogs, though.

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ A few. Not the social type, but...it’s good to have those you can trust around you.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ I’d rather stick to a private night alone.

► Day or night ➔ Night.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ No.

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ ?

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ A long time ago.

► Wanted to disappear ➔ Many times.

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ Is this a general question? Or romantic/sexual?

► Shorter or Taller ➔ Do people really get picky about height...?

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Really...

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ I imagine a relationship would be more worthwhile, if you can find a right person.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ We did, mostly. My father and I didn’t have the best relationship...but we knew we loved one another.

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ I’d said that’s an understatement.

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ Not literally, no.

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ No.

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ They can give me a headache some times, but no, I don’t hate them.

► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔ Yes. After what we went through, over and over, it’s hard not to accept that.

► Who is your best friend ➔ I don’t...have a best? Who do I understand the best? Cloud, I suppose.

► Who knows everything about you ➔ I’ve yet to allow anyone to, but letting some know parts, little by little.

► Name ➔ Kadaj.

► Are you single ➔ Yes.

► Are you happy ➔ No.

► Are you angry? ➔ Unsatisfied and angry, would describe me these days.

► Are your parents still married ➔ ---

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ I don’t have one.

► Hair Color ➔ Silver.

► Eye Color ➔ Emerald green.

► Birthday ➔ Don’t have one, once again...

► Mood ➔ Impatient.

► Sex ➔ ?

► Summer or winter ➔ Winter.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Morning.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ Ha!

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ Nonsense.

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ ---

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ ---

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ I’m not afraid of anything. I’m committed to my mission.

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ ---

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Who cares?

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ ...

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ Useless.

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ ---

► Cats or Dogs ➔ ---

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ I don’t have friends. I have pawns, and I have enemies.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Waste.

► Day or night ➔ Day.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Useless question.

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ No.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Yes...and I intend to find it...

► Wanted to disappear ➔ ...What kind of question is that..?

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ Who cares.

► Shorter or Taller ➔ Again, who cares.

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Intelligence, what use are you without a competent mind?

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Who. Cares.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ ---

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ Depends on if you believe I have a life.

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ Don’t have a home to run away from.

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ ---

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ I openly hate my dear brother.

► Do you consider all of your friend’s good friends ➔ ---

► Who is your best friend ➔ ---

► Who knows everything about you ➔ Mother... She’s the only one who knows...

#onewinged meme #tagged #woo this was long but fun!#enjoy these complicated bois!

3 notes · View notes

today-only-happens-once · 5 years

Text

Always

Title: Always

Word Count: 3,651

Summary: Pop-Star!Roman AU. Months after their first meeting during which the two of them dated in secret, Virgil shows up at Roman’s apartment at one in the morning barely able to stay standing. This is unapologetic hurt/comfort romantic Prinxiety for you all. Hints of Logicality. Platonic Analogical and Royality. Companion piece to Acoustic, but can be read separately.

Warnings: (heavy on all so please heed them, friends) injury, blood, bruising, cursing, concussion, tropes.

Author’s Note: This is super self-indulgent and similar to other things I’ve written but I had fun with it. Sometimes its really nice to just. Write self-indulgent, tropey things. Hope you enjoy it! Also, I’m like, one person away from a huge follower milestone so this is a perhaps premature celebration of that fact. <3 You all are amazing and ily. Thank you for all the support. Seriously. This fic was edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine.

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34

...

Roman hears a knock at the door to his apartment at a little past one in the morning.

He groans and kicks off the blanket as he pushes up from the couch and pads across the hardwood and tile. He’d been watching Queer Eye much, much later than he should have been, but what could he say? It was a Friday night. And Remy had put him under figurative house arrest since he had a concert tomorrow night.

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he opens the door. It’s not exactly like he had been too loud, so it couldn’t be a neighbor with a noise complaint. He hadn’t ordered food. But he’s the sleepy brand of tired—he’d been probably moments from falling asleep—and doesn’t really think too hard about it as he opens the door.

He’s suddenly wide awake when he sees that it’s Virgil standing—swaying—in his doorway.

“Virgil?” he asks, his brow creasing in concern as he really looks at him.

Virgil looks white as a ghost, trembling so hard he’s vibrating. There’s a cut surrounded by a dark, angry bruise along his left cheekbone that takes up nearly the whole side of his face. Around his right eye, Roman can see that there’s some swelling. His lip is split open, though most of the blood has dried.

Virgil grimaces and doubles over slightly. It’s then that Roman notices he’s got one arm wrapped around his ribs, fisted in his purple shirt underneath his plaid patched hoodie that is torn in a few places. Virgil’s knuckles are split open. Blood leaks out as his grip on his shirt tightens slightly.

He sways, then stumbles. Roman catches him. “Hey,” he says softly as he guides Virgil’s other arm around his shoulders. “Easy. I got ya.”

“Sorry,” Virgil grits out. “Sorry.”

Roman swallows hard and just shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he assures. “C’mon.” He wishes Virgil would lean on him a little more—he can hear the pained catch in Virgil’s breath as Roman helps him into the apartment—but he doesn’t know how to speak past the lump in his throat anymore.

Roman helps Virgil over to the couch in front of the TV. The pop star doesn’t miss the slight whimper that Virgil makes in the back of his throat as Roman gingerly helps him take a seat on the couch. When Virgil tries to cover it with a cough, Roman lets him and pretends his stomach doesn’t twist sharply.

“’m sorry,” Virgil murmurs quietly. It’s then that Roman notices his eyes look hazy and unfocused. “Didn’t know where else to go…”

“Don’t—” Roman tries, but his throat closes up. He coughs slightly in an effort to get it open again. “It’s okay,” he says tightly. “I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I’ll be right back, Virge, okay? I promise.”

Virgil makes a vague sound of acknowledgement and Roman disappears down the short hallway. He turns into the bathroom, fishing his phone out of his. He pulls up the caller ID and pins his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he digs around for the first aid kit in the cabinet below the sink.

It rings twice before a familiar if groggy voice answers back. “Roman? Might I inquire as to why you are calling me at 1:14 in the morning?”

“Logan,” Roman says, his voice heavy and thick with relief. “Logan, I need your help. I don’t know what to do because Virgil just showed up and he’s not okay and I don’t have any kind of training in this and I know you’re going to school to be a paramedic so maybe you know more about—”

“Roman,” Logan says, sounding abruptly more alert now. “Slow down. What, specifically, is wrong with Virgil?”

“I don’t know,” Roman says and he suddenly realizes that his voice is a little shaky. He takes in a deep breath. “He looks… I dunno, Lo, he looks beat up or something and he was swaying and I think maybe he’s gotten broken ribs or something and maybe a concussion but I don’t know how to check for these things—”

“Breathe. Do you have a first aid kit?”

“I can’t find it,” Roman says, wondering why his voice sounds higher than normal to him. He starts shoving medicine bottles, hair products, and toilet paper out of the way. They spill onto his bathroom floor and he doesn’t care. “Wait,” he says, almost to himself as he spots the small red box shoved into the back of the cabinet. He grabs for it. “I got it. I found it. It’s found.”

“Good,” Logan says, and Roman can’t tell if he’s speaking slowly on purpose or if Roman just feels that way. “Patton and I are on our way. Virgil might need to go to the hospital, but for right now just keep him awake and take care of what you can.”

Roman swallows hard and nods. “Right, right, right. Okay, okay. Yeah, I can… I can do that. I can do that stuff.” He realizes he’s repeating himself a lot but he can’t stop. His thoughts are going a mile a minute. “Logan why…” He scrubs a hand down his face. “If he needs to go to the hospital, why he’d come here?”

The question is met with a moment of silence. “He may be a bit out of it. Depending on the circumstances surrounding his injuries, a sense of safety was probably at the forefront of his mind and, as a result, he went to the closest place that an intrinsic part of him knew could provide that sensation.”

Roman makes his way back down the hall towards the living room. “What?”

A sigh. “To put it more simply, Virgil came to you because he feels safe with you. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.” There’s a pause. “Call me if there’s any change.”

A click. Roman lets the phone fall into his hand and slips it into his back pocket. Virgil looks even paler in the dark under the flickering glow of the TV screen across the room. The dark brown couch beneath him also doesn’t help. His eyes are closed and Roman feels his heartbeat jump to his throat for a moment before he sees him crack his eyes open at Roman’s reappearance.

Roman flashes him a smile. “Never fear,” he announces with a bravado that feels as thin and brittle as Virgil’s answering smile. “I have returned.” He brandishes the first aid kit as he crosses back towards him.

“I think this is where I say ‘you should see the other guy’ or something, right?” Virgil’s voice isa little too tight to sound as casual as he’s clearly trying to.

Roman flicks on the lamp beside the couch to bathe the room in a warmer glow. He switches the TV off as he kneels between Virgil and the coffee table as he sets the first aid kit down. “Only if you want to be a cliché,” Roman replies with more ease than he feels. He pulls out a cleansing wipe from its paper packaging.

“What would be original, then?”

Roman ever-so-gently takes one of Virgil’s hands in his own. He hums in thought. “Never hurts to embellish the story a little. You could claim you fought off a Dragon Witch.”

Virgil leans his head back against the couch cushion. He cocks an eyebrow as he looks down at Roman. “A Dragon Witch? That’s certainly… unexpected.”

Roman’s mouth quirks slightly. “I’m full of surprises.” He presses the cleansing wipe to the tender, angry skin around Virgil’s knuckles. Virgil hisses a breath, but his grip around Roman’s hand tightens instead of jerking away.

“Shit,” he grits out behind clenched teeth.

Roman winces in sympathy, feeling a twinge in his chest. “Sorry. Like I said. Full of surprises?” Roman swallows and pauses. “Ready?” he asks, softer.

Virgil’s death grip on Roman’s hand loosens slightly. He nods. “Yeah. Yeah, go for it.”

Roman gingerly presses the wipe back to Virgil’s hand and sets to work at cleaning the wounds. Roman doesn’t know what to say, but he remembers that Logan told him to keep him awake and Roman knows the easiest way to do that is probably to just keep him talking.

Virgil surprises him by speaking first. “Guess I owe you an explanation, huh?” His voice is breathy and tired.

Roman doesn’t meet his eyes. He reaches instead for some gauze to wrap his hand as he finishes cleaning it. “I’ll have you know, people showing up at my door needing to get patched up at one in the morning is a regular occurrence.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, huffing a breathy laugh. “Good, I’m glad. Knew I came to the right place.”

“Casa de la Roman, open 24 hours,” Roman quips back as he gingerly rests Virgil’s now bandaged hand to the side and turns his attention to the other one. “Free room and board.”

“That’s a terrible business model,” Virgil murmurs quietly. “Imagine if word got out.” Roman smiles faintly. He glances up to see Virgil’s eyes are closed. He nudges Virgil’s leg.

“Wake up, Scooby Doom.” He doesn’t miss the slight way Virgil jerks away from the touch, the faint whimper. Something twists in his stomach.

“Your bedside manner sucks,” Virgil replies before Roman can apologize, but his voice is tight with lingering pain. Roman can feel his throat closing up again suddenly and he busies himself with cleaning and bandaging Virgil’s other hand.

Roman licks his lips as he moves from kneeling to the balls of his feet. He grabs another wipe and a butterfly bandage. Roman takes a seat on the couch beside Virgil and turns to face him.

He’s caught off guard by how close they suddenly are. Virgil is still leaned back into the cushions of the couch, but Roman is very aware that his leg is barely brushing Virgil’s. He isn’t sure why he’s suddenly so aware of how close they are for a moment. It’s not like they haven’t sat beside each other. Virgil, however, doesn’t seem to even notice. He’s pulled the hand that Roman had just bandaged closer to him, flexing his grip with vague interest.

“Thank you for this,” Virgil tells him, turning his dark brown, still slightly hazy eyes onto Roman. Roman flushes slightly for reasons he can’t quite explain.

“Hold still,” Roman tells him in a soft voice instead of replying. He cups Virgil’s jaw gently with one hand and presses the wipe to the cut along his cheekbone with the other. Virgil winces and closes his eyes. Roman whispers an apology, brushing his thumb along his jawline soothingly.

Neither of them says anything as Roman gingerly presses the bandage to the wound. Roman looks at him for a long moment, his hand still against Virgil’s jaw. Virgil’s eyes flit open again, his eyes focusing on Roman for only a moment before they unfocus again. He blinks a few times. There’s something in his eyes that brings Roman up short for a moment. Something soft and vulnerable.

Roman sighs softly as he lets his hand fall. “You might need stitches. And… you might have a concussion.”

Virgil nods a little, then stops suddenly and hisses a breath. “I… yeah. Yeah, okay.” He averts his gaze.

Roman clears his throat. “Logan and Patton are on the way to help, actually.” He tries to grasp the bravado and facade he’d had a moment ago. Before Virgil had looked so small. And scared. “But I… I can keep going. What else hurts?”

Virgil hesitates a moment too long. “I’m fine, Ro.”

“Yeah, and I’m straight.” Roman gives him a pointed look. “C’mon. What else? Ribs?”

“You’ve already done more than enough—”

Roman reaches towards Virgil. “Where is this sudden deflection coming from?”

“Nowhere. You just don’t need to be wasting your entire first aid kit on me.”

“It’s not a waste.” Roman is staring at him.

“No, really, it’s fine, Roman--” Virgil’s comment is cut off by a sharp yelp as Roman’s hand grazes Virgil’s side. “Fucking shit,” he wheezes.

Roman’s hand jerks back. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Shit.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Roman snaps, and then immediately regrets it at the flash that passes through Virgil’s eyes. “Please,” he says, softer. “I just… let me help you.”

Virgil holds his gaze for a long moment, then sags a little and nods. Carefully, Roman reaches for the hem of Virgil’s shirt. He waits for another nod before he starts sliding it up. Roman feels his stomach roll at the smattering of yellow, purple, red, and blue that has blossomed across his chest. He thinks some of the bruising looks like shoe prints.

“Jesus, Virge.” Roman’s breath hitches. “What did they do to you?”

Virgil looks away. He doesn’t respond. Roman opens his mouth, a part of him wanting to press the issue. He closes it again, his finger tips just barely ghosting over his torso. Virgil jolts slightly before giving a sharp cry at the evident flash of pain from the sudden movement. Roman freezes for a second as he hears Virgil suck in a quick, shallow breaths.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Roman hushes. “Breathe.”

Virgil screws his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Can’t. Can’t, can’t, can’t—” As if in slow motion, Virgil leans towards Roman until his head is against his chest.

Roman’s heart gives a clenching squeeze. “Oh, sweetheart…” he breathes without thinking. He cards his fingers through Virgil’s hair softly. It’s greasy with sweat and dirt. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. It’s okay.” When Roman tucks part of his face into Virgil’s hair, it smells like copper.

For a moment, neither of them says anything. Roman glances down at Virgil’s partially exposed back and notices the bruising doesn’t seem much better there either. In fact, Roman can see a few places where they broke skin. And he can’t quite tell whether the darker color against Virgil’s pale complexion is dirt or dried blood.

“I’m going to try to clean you up a little, okay?” Roman murmurs softly against Virgil’s hair once his breathing has evened out a bit. It still sounds a little shallow to Roman but its better and that’s something. “I just… don’t want anything to get infected.”

Virgil doesn’t respond, but he reaches up and fists a hand in Roman’s shirt before giving a slight nod. He grabs a wipe from the coffee table, doing his best to limit the amount of shifting Virgil does as a result, and presses a small kiss to the top of Virgil’s head against his chest before he dabs at some of the broken skin with the wipe. Roman feels Virgil’s clenched grip around his shirt tighten even more.

Roman works to clean what of Virgil’s bruises he can as gingerly as he can. Neither of them says anything, but Roman can tell Virgil is still awake from the stifled gasps and hisses he makes as Roman works. The pop star just keeps whispering apologies over and over.

“Logan and Patton should be here soon,” Roman says softly when he’s finished, gingerly lowering Virgil’s shirt back down, mindful of the wounds. “We’ll get you the help you need, okay?”

Virgil hums and doesn’t pull away from Roman’s chest. “’m glad you opened the door,” he says quietly, his voice slightly muffled.

Roman swallows hard. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Virgil takes a breath and his lungs shake a little on the inhale. “Jus’. Y’know. You’re… good.”

“Excuse you, but I’d like to think I’m better than just ‘good’.” Roman figures it would sound more teasing if his voice didn’t sound weirdly strained.

“Mhm,” Virgil agrees a little too readily. Roman’s brow furrows with concern. “’s why you were worth it.”

Roman tries to pull back to look at him, frowning in confusion, but Virgil’s grip on his shirt only tightens. “Virge, what do you mean?”

“Those guys,” Virgil explains vaguely.

Roman’s heart is beating a little bit harder and a little bit faster. “What guys?”

“They were strong an’ mad ‘cause I love you, I think,” Virgil tells him.

Roman’s stomach plummets to the floor. Virgil got beat up because of him? Roman pulls back a bit more insistently, catching Virgil’s chin in one of his hands to askingly tilts his head up. Virgil looks up at him. His eyes look unfocused and clouded again, and Roman realizes that Virgil’s moment of clarity earlier seems to have been a relatively fleeting moment of lucidity.

“Virgil, darling—” Roman’s urgency is interrupted by a knock at the door. He swallows the words down and tries to give Virgil a soft smile even though he feels more like throwing up. “It’s open!” he calls out. Virgil winces at the sudden loud noise.

Logan appears in the doorway first, his gaze zeroing in on the two of them on the couch. Patton appears behind him, still in his pajamas. Patton’s warm eyes widen at the sight before him and he pauses just inside the doorway. Logan wastes no time—he doesn’t even look phased—in crossing the distance between the door and the couch.

“Hey, L,” Virgil says quietly, almost sheepishly. Roman is distantly relieved that he at least seems to recognize everyone still.

Logan sets his first aid kit—a larger box than the one Roman has—beside Roman’s and starts digging through it. “Salutations,” he says. “What’s your name?”

“Virgil Shea,” Virgil replies.

“Where are you?”

“Roman’s apartment.”

“What year is it?”

Logan gives a patient look towards Roman as Virgil rattles off answers to his questions. Gradually, Logan guides Virgil to face him and pull his attention away from Roman. Roman takes the pointed look from Logan as cue to stand up and give them a moment of space.

It’s not until he’s standing in the kitchen—Logan’s and Virgil’s voices the only noise floating through the apartment—that he realizes his hands are shaking.

Roman grips the counter and bows his head, taking a deep breath. He scrubs a hand across his mouth as hears someone step up behind him.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“You saw him, Patton,” Roman replies without turning around. “He’s…” His voice catches unsteadily and Roman lets the thought go unfinished.

“I know,” Patton says with a soft understanding. “But I was asking about you.”

“It’s my fault.” Roman hadn’t even met to say it, but the weight of the confession lingers heavy in the air around him.

“Roman—”

“I mean it,” Roman insists. His eyes focus unseeing on the salt and pepper shakers on the gray kitchen counter. “He told me some guys beat him up because he loves me? I mean.” He waves an arm, his eyes burning. “What do I do with that?”

“Roman…”

Roman finally spins around to face him. “We were so careful, Pat. Or we… we tired to be. Ever since that first time we met at your coffee shop, we avoided public eye and the tabloids and the press. So much sneaking around and late night excursions and video chats and… I knew it was risky. Hell, we both did. But I thought, at worst, it’d be risking careers. Not… not that. Not him showing up at my doorstep barely able to stay standing, I mean, Jesus, Patton.”

Patton watches him quietly for a moment, then crosses over towards the cabinet above the sink. He pulls out a glass and fills it with water. “That doesn’t make this your fault.”

“He’s hurt.”

Patton hands him the water. “Drink this.” Roman stares at it for a second before accepting it. “I think you’re missing an important detail, Ro.”

Roman downs half the glass before setting it on the counter behind him. He rakes a hand through his hair to push the bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“That despite what happened tonight, Virgil came to find you,” Patton reminds him, gentle but firm. His eyes are earnest behind his black glasses frames. “That despite everything you just said, Virgil decided that he felt the most safe with you. That’s not for nothing.”

Roman turns bright, pained eyes onto the coffeeshop owner. “What if his trust is misplaced?”

Patton gives him a soft look. “You know, I don’t think that’s true, kiddo. You know why?”

Silently, Roman shakes his head.

Patton nods his head back to where they can hear Logan and Virgil speaking to one another. “Because when we walked in, you can bet the first thing we both noticed was that Virgil’s hands had been bandaged, as had the cut on his cheek, that you had the first aid kit out and several wipes used. And you were holding onto one another.”

For a long moment, neither of them says anything. “I’m scared for him, Patton,” Roman admits in a whisper.

“So am I,” Patton agrees. “I’m scared for both of you. But you’ll figure it out.”

“How are you so sure?”

Patton opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off by Logan appearing in the entryway to the kitchen. “Virgil almost certainly needs to go to the ER. I feel reasonably confident about a concussion, but an official diagnosis would be preferable. I will be driving him, if either of you would like to come as well.”

Roman is already grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair in the kitchen. “Lead the way, doc.”

Logan sighs as he steps back. “Roman, for the last time, I am not a doctor.”

Virgil is standing a few feet away and Roman crosses past Logan, ignoring his clarification, and guiding Virgil’s arm to wrap around his shoulders. “I got ya,” he says to Virgil quietly.

The corner of Virgil’s mouth quirks upwards slightly, and he lets Roman shoulder some of his weight. “You always do.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #hurt/comfort #tw injury #tw bruising #tw blood #tw cursing #tw concussion

1K notes · View notes

thelookingglassalice · 5 years

Photo

Generations Pt 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Taya/OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1271

Square Filled: Unwilling Enhancement

Summary: Testing is underway to see whose DNA was used to create Delilah and what that could mean for her future.

A/N: @star-spangled-bingo @avengerscompound @lillianfromaccounting @patzammit @mumbles411 @until-theend-oftheline @nikkimarie (If you’d like to be tagged just ask)

“Green.” Delilah pointed and held out a hand.

“I’m not sure if green is the way to go.” Steve eyed the picture.

“Green cat. Give me.” Delilah insisted.

“I guess.” Steve held the cup of green paint out and Delilah took the brush to paint.

“Did you draw her pictures to paint?” Bucky leaned down to see what they were doing.

“Yeah, she doesn’t work within reality though. The cat looks like Banner.” Steve shrugged. He nodded to where a puncture mark was healing on Bucky’s arm.

“I thought it was just a cheek swab, but apparently Banner needed a half-gallon of blood.” Bucky wrinkled his nose and rubbed the spot.

“Guess I’m next after Taya. Has he got Delilah?” Steve asked as Delilah finished with the green paint and rubbed her hands on the huge t-shirt that covered her clothes.

“Bue, bue dog.” She held a hand out and Steve obliged.

“I guess he did it while she was asleep. Hulk doesn’t like making kids cry.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest.

Bruce was finally free to do the tests he’d been wanting to do. Today was the day everyone had been waiting for, well, mostly Tony. Everyone else didn’t know how to feel. Steve or Bucky could end up with a kid, Taya could end up having to co-parent with someone she’d never planned on. Under that, the makeup of Delilah’s genetics due to her unwilling enhancements would be laid bare. To see if her body was different in any way Bruce planned on comparing her to other serum enhanced individuals, even some mutant DNA. So far, she was a regular toddler. She was maybe a bit more aware.

“Her birthday is coming up. I heard Natasha and Taya talking. She’ll be two next week.” Steve watched Delilah give up on the brush and just start patting her hands on the wet paint. “What do you do on a kids birthday? If you’re my dad you yell at them for existing. If you’re Stark you buy her a child-sized sports car.”

“There has to be an in-between.” Bucky snorted a laugh. He decided to just say it. “You think she’s yours?”

“Do you think she’s yours?” Steve looked up with an eyebrow raised.

“I don’t think it matters, really. I don’t know. She looks like her mom.” Bucky crouched down and Delilah turned with a huge smile.

“Buck, Teve.” She introduced them and laughed. She thought it was hilarious to introduce people who already knew one another. “My Teve, okay? My Buck, okay? Okay. Where Tam? Where Kint?” She spread her hands in a shrug then went back to her finger painting.

“Natasha thinks she’s getting closer to where the files on Taya and Delilah are. She mentioned she may need Taya to go with her.” Bucky’s jaw ticked, Steve could tell this bothered him.

“You think she can handle it?” Steve frowned.

“Maybe. We’ve talked some. When she’s up with the kid.” Bucky explained. “Out of everyone here only you and she agreed to whatever they put in your body. I think she could do it if she has to.”

“Steve? Bruce says he’s ready for you.” Taya entered, pulling her sleeve over her arm. “Hey, oh, wow. Thanks, Steve.” Taya’s eyes widened at her paint-covered daughter.

“She’s an artist.” Steve stood up and shrugged. “I’ll be back to clean up.” He stretched and headed to the elevator.

“I’m leaving her like this then.” Taya sat down at the table and ran her fingers through Delilah’s hair. “What’s up?”

“Cat, dog.” Delilah’s face scrunched as she continued to work on her masterpiece. “Teve did.”

“Nice.” Taya looked at the elaborate drawing Steve had done to let Delilah paint all over.

“Did Bruce say how long this is going to take?” Bucky asked.

“Not long, he should have a complete genetic profile by this evening.” Taya rolled her eyes.

She had figured that asking for help from the Avengers would lead to this. Honestly, she could give a shit. Delilah was going to have a strange childhood, what did paternity matter? The past few months they’d been here everyone had helped to care for Delilah. True, Steve and Bucky were more connected to her. But if that was because they could possibly be her blood, who knew? Some men would just cut the kid off if they found out there was no relation. Taya had a feeling that neither one of these guys would do that. They had made that connection, no matter how scared the possibility of having responsibility for a child may make them, it was there. Delilah now had two father figures, for better or worse.

That was another thing.

It was obvious that going underground again was not in the plan. Not that it worked so well before. Taya was fending off attackers at least once a month since they ran. So what? Stay in the compound forever?

Bucky watched Taya lost in thought. The sunlight came in through the window and highlighted her hair, held in a loose ponytail. She had so much going on, too much to think about. He didn’t want to add to it by telling her how much he liked her around. Their nights were becoming something he looked forward to. When he was on a mission and needed those few days of recovery, she understood. But he missed her.

It was stupid as fuck. Anyone would say he was just projecting his regrets of not having a family by trying to make one. But as much as he enjoyed Delilah, Taya was a separate person. She shared so much of his past trauma. Bucky knew that Steve didn’t mean any harm saying the HYDRA Winter Soldier wasn’t Bucky. But it was, still is to some extent.

“Ew.” Delilah held her hands an inch from Bucky’s face. He jerked back and Taya was pulled from her reverie.

“That’s Steve’s problem.” Bucky smiled and wrinkled his nose, bringing his face to Delilah’s.

“No.” She copied his face.

“Okay, come on Picasso.” Taya stood up and grasped the neck of Delilah’s painting shirt. She pulled as the little girl laughed.

“Bye-bye Buck.” Delilah waved her messy hands as her mom led her away.

“So? Who’s your daddy?” Tony greeted everyone later that evening. He crouched down next to where Delilah was playing with a tea set. Natasha and Clint were the other attendees of her tea party. Taya was reading a book while Bucky and Steve looked over mission reports with Sam.

“Dunno.” Delilah looked up at Tony with a quizzical expression. “You daddy.”

“She’s right. You are a daddy.” Sam tilted his head.

“But not her daddy...right?” Tony’s head swiveled to Taya.

“I’m 98 percent sure you are not,” Taya continued to read her book.

“Is the party over? Can I take this off?” Clint looked out from under the oversized brim of a floppy hat.

“No. Stay in character.” Natasha had a scarf tied over her hair and cat’s eye sunglasses. She sipped at her teacup and smirked at Clint.

“Clint pretty.” Delilah offered Morgan some jewelry to dress-up with.

“Oh yes, he’s gorgeous.” Tony agreed.

“Fine, as long as I’m pretty.” Clint leaned back and cooled himself with a feathery fan.

“Results are ready. Do you want this is private?” Bruce was tapping at his tablet as he came off the elevator. He looked up. “Nice hat Clint.”

“He can just tell me.” Tony held out a hand for the tablet. “I’ll break it tactfully.”

“Might as well just say it.” Taya set her book down and stood up.

#star spangled bingo #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes x octaya #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

55 notes · View notes

bicycles-bees-bisexuals · 5 years

Text

50 Question Book Tag For World Book Day

My darling pal @thebestoftimes tagged me in this and who am I to refuse, though i am a lame loser who hasn’t read very much since high school. I read so much in elementary and middle school that I think I read enough for a whole lifetime. Also I’m a verbose asshole so enjoy my essays on books I read 13 years ago.

Who or what sparked your love of literature?

My mom used to read to me when I was really little and my sister despised being read to so my mom stopped. It made me sad so I started reading to myself and I just kept reading and reading and reading all throughout elementary and onward.

Do you have an ‘odd’ book habit? (page sniffing/never leaving the house with a book)

If I really really really love a book I use it to press flowers, so you’ll know which book is my favorite when you open it and it’s full of flowers

Do you have a book that you think has changed your life? How?

Shit I dunno man, I feel like Tolkien shaped my creativity and his characters are characters that I truly hold dear. But Pride and Prejudice really impacted me, which I know is weird, but it was my first foray into literature written by women for women and I just loved the dynamic of the characters, the spunkiness of Elizabeth Bennet, and the style of writing.

Which book have you reread most frequently?

Pride and Prejudice because I’m a huge freakin’ nerd and whenever I’m sad P&P is my comfort book. This is closely followed by the Lord of the Rings/the Hobbit

You can meet any author and ask one question. What author would you chose and what question would you ask?

Oh shit.....ummmmmm..... Ummmmmmmmmmmm.....I would ask Jane Austen her opinion on the Lizzie Bennet Diaries(after showing her the whole series)

Best book published this year so far?

(I haven’t read any books published this year I am so sorry)

Imagine you’ve started a book and don’t like it. Do you see the experience through to the bitter end?

I am a sinner of the highest caliber and I read the end to see if it’s interesting enough to warrant suffering through the rest

What book is top of your wish list/TBR pile?

Any of Holly Blacks books tbh, I hear such good things about her work and I just haven’t gotten around to reading it yet and I really want to

Favourite place to read?

On the porch in my beach chair with a mug of tea and a blanket

If you buy books, do you lend them out? Ever had a bad experience?

I lend books out all the time. I recently had a person I considered my friend abscond to Russia with several of my books and I am not happy about it

What fictional character do you ship yourself with?

There are so many badass ladies that if I lived in their world I would flirt so hard with them and I can’t decide. Definitely Annabeth and Rachel for Percy Jackson, Hermione/Ginny/Luna from Harry Potter... Brett Ashley from The Sun Also Rises....Arwen from LOTR but also Aragorn and also Eowyn....I just love hot ladies who get in fights alright

Weirdest thing you’ve used as a bookmark.

A whole sock, it was the nearest object to me and I was in a hurry, but at least it was clean

Favorite quality/qualities in a protagonist and antagonist

I love a flawed character who experiences character growth in the story, be they protagonist or antagonist. Not even in a ‘bad guy becomes good guy’ way, character growth is just so sexy man I wish writers used it more

Favorite genre and favorite book from that genre.

Why must you hurt me in this way, making me decide. I must say Fantasy is my genre of choice, and my favorite is actually The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Best/worst movie adaptation in your eyes

Dragon is by far the worst movie adaptation I have ever seen, I remember being so utterly disappointed and gutted when I watched it, I love those books so much and that movie let me down so hard(the effects were really good for the time though I must give them that)

Do you prefer reading your own books, or library books?

I am poor so library books all the way

How do you choose your next book to read?

I read descriptions until something strikes my interest. Or Jess recommends something to me.

Your favorite word.

Flourish

Book that got you hooked on reading/how you got hooked.

Mrs Peregrins Home for Peculiar Children, which isn’t a book I didn’t expect to like and didn’t have much interest in but the opening line of “I had just come to accept my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen” it was an interesting enough hook to draw me in. I was not disappointed, it’s a pretty great book

Opinion on dog-earing, margin writing, ect.

I dog ear books and write all over them. I love books and I love the stories they contain but I don’t think the pages of each individual book are sacred. My books look loved because they are loved. Unless I’m borrowing them then I don’t dog ear or write in them because that’s rude

Top 5 immediate to read in no order

The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater

The Foxhole Court by Nora Sakavic

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

Lady Midnight by Cassandra Clare

Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare

Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare

Most underrated book you’ve read

Tbh I don’t think I’ve read any underrated books. They’re all pretty highly rated

What is the first book that catches your eye when you look at your bookshelf?

My collectors copy of Sherlock Holmes because it’s beautiful and fancy and those stories hold a dead place in my heart

How do you arrange your books on your shelves?

I don’t arrange them, I just place them so that they fit, though I do keep series together

You have the power to change a book’s ending. Which ending would you change and what would you make happen instead?

Why do you do this to me.....okay I would definitely change the ending of Inheretence by Christopher Paolini. Tbh I wish he hadn’t written the fourth book at all and just left it with Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr but if we accept this book then it must be changed. I would have liked to see more character growth from Murtagh especially, but also Eragon who really regressed in this book. And I think Galbatorix’ death was super anti climatic and didn’t really resolve all of the built up tension from the series, it was too easy and didn’t resolve anything at all.

And Eragon just abandons Arya and the riders and they separate themselves from each other after all they did together, several books of allusion to a relationship and all of the issues between them being resolved and he just leaves. The plot threads just weren’t resolved and honestly I would have to scrap the whole book for the most part and start over.

Favourite book cover?

The book covers for the Inheretence Cycle by Christopher Paolini hold a special place in my heart and are what drew me to that series in the first place. I bought hard covers just for the aesthetic of them

Which book from your childhood has had the most impact on you?

The Chronicles of Narnia, tbh, my first introduction to fantasy

When reading, what do you value most: writing style, characters, plot, world building, pacing, etc?

Characters are the most valuable to me, if I don’t love the characters I don’t love the book

Do you prefer buying books or borrowing them from a library/friend?

Borrowing, for sure

What books/sequels that are being published this year are you most excited for?

Unfortunately I haven’t read enough lately to know what’s coming out this year

Which fictional character would you want as a sidekick?

Samwise Gamgee all the way

How many books have you read so far this year?

Seven, all academic books

What’s been your favourite read so far this year?

The Heliand

You’re stuck on an island with a suitcase big enough to hold five books. What books are they?

Arghhhhh ummm.... the lord of the rings trilogy, Pride and Prejudice, and a book on survival tactics

If you had to go out to dinner with any character who would it be and why? What would you talk about?

Hmmmmm Bilbo Baggins because I wanna hear the hidden stories of his journeys

Is there a book you have such a hatred for that you would throw it off of the highest tower knowing that the last copy of it will be destroyed so that not another living soul can read it?

Inheretence by Christopher Paolini tbh

Do you believe books make nice decoration?

Yeah I do and one day I want to have book shelves displaying all my books

Do you listen to music when you read? Or do you need complete silence?

I do listen to music because I can’t focus on just one thing at a time because I’m ridiculous

Do you have a favorite book? If not are you in the group that believes there are too many great books out there to just choose one?

I CANT CHOOSE I CANT CHOOSE I CANT CHOOSE I CANT CHOOSE I CANTTTFTTTT

Do you sleep with books under your pillow.

No because I move too much in my sleep I would destroy the poor thing

Do you go to the library or do you have a book buying addiction or are you one of those lucky people who is able to do both?

I definitely go to the library because I am poooorrrrr

Own any book inspired clothing?

I have a pride and prejudice book scarf and several Jane Austen necklaces

Have you ever read a book in another language?

Yep I read books in Latin all the time and I used to read books in Spanish because I used to be smart, what the fuck happened to that who knows

Strangest book you’ve ever read?

The Heliand

Favourite type of non-fiction?

Historical Drama, in which they tell real events but in the most dramatic way possible. The best.

Favourite non-fiction book?

I CANT CHOOSE I CANT CHOOSE I CANT CHOOSE I CANT CHOOSE I CANT CHOOSE (does hidden figures by Margot Lee Shetterly count? If not then I can’t decide)

Favourite subject to read about?

History, always, especially history involving regular people losing their shot

Favourite book you’ve read in school?

No Turning Back: The History of Feminism and the Future of Women by Estelle Freedman

Favourite work of Shakespeare?

Tbh I don’t like Shakespeare but Midsummer Nights Dream is most entertaining to me. Though I love merchant of Venice for all the jokes I get out of it on Bards Dispense Profanity

Character you’d love as a mom or dad or guardian?

All of them would be terrible parents and it would be so delightful but tbh I’d love to have Han Solo and Leia as my parents so I can beat the shit out of my bro Kyle Ron every time he tried to glorify space hitler

#books #i do miss reading #thank you jess for making me think about non academic books again

3 notes · View notes

skeletonscribbles · 6 years

Text

Wishes

here’s chapter one of this Losers WDW employee AU! let me know what you think <3

Rating: M, eventually. G right now, except for cursing.

Pairings: Reddie, Stan/Bill/Mike, Benverly WC: 4,465

Summary:

It's one thing to vacation at the Happiest Place on Earth with all your friends.

Working there with them is another thing entirely.

(or: the Disney World Employee/Cast Member AU written by a former Disney World Cast Member that some people asked for but most did not)

Other: Scroll down for explanation of starred phrases. There’s lots of Disney lingo in here.

Also, chapters will alternate perspectives like I Burn I Pine I Perish (Mike’s up next!)

Read on Ao3

Tag List: @roobarrtrashmouth @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @tozier-club @aizeninlefox @stanheartsbill

BILL DENBROUGH - GUEST RELATIONS, MAGIC KINGDOM THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8TH 7:48 A.M.

There was absolutely no fucking reason for the Magic Kingdom to ever open earlier than 9 a.m.. That was indisputable truth among MK workers; the tunnels were too nasty for any human to have to wander through between the hours of 1 a.m. and 8 a.m. (Third shift cast members were brave and foolish souls.)

Bill Denbrough really couldn’t be blamed, then, for rolling in with just a few minutes to spare on an early-open Monday (well, actually a Thursday, but his Monday. He’d applied to have a regular weekend, but didn’t get it because he hadn’t been working for the company for a million years, so his days off were Tuesday and Wednesday, and it was a huge bummer). As soon as he got off the West Clock bus*, he made a beeline for the mouth of the tunnels to clock in on the computer next to the Mouseketeeria (the cafeteria for cast members - “The Mouse” for short). He wasn’t the only one, either - everyone was walking fast, trying to make sure they were in on time lest they get a point on their records**. That was what MK got, Bill reasoned, for opening a whole hour before what was strictly necessary.

Once he was clocked in (with two minutes to spare, no less), Bill slowed down, taking a more leisurely pace as he made his way through the tunnels towards Town Hall. The rest of his Guest Relations cast members would be pissed with him, but he didn’t care. They’d left him out to dry with angry guests more times than he could count.

Almost immediately, he was just about bowled over by somebody plowing their way towards the Mouse. He glared over, hoping that it was a bitchy entertainment cast member he could tell off, but to his dismay and concern, it was his acquaintance Eddie, a Character Attendant who he spoke to quite often on tours. He seemed to be on the run from someone...and given that he worked pretty exclusively with Princesses, that was probably true.

“Eddie?” Bill asked, and Eddie stopped in his tracks. “Are you all right?”

Eddie turned around, shaken up by the fact that he’d been recognized (there were SO many cast members that worked at the Magic Kingdom), and blinked woozily back at Bill. “Oh. Yeah. Hi, Bill. You taking people my way today?”

“I dunno if I have a tour,” Bill said, “but I will if I do. Which way is your way?”

“Fantasyland,” Eddie replied, “Princess Fairytale Hall. Not Adventureland anymore, thank God.”

“What’s so bad about Adventureland?” Before he’d taken the Guest Relations gig, Bill had been an attractions cast member in Adventureland and Liberty Square. Granted, his allegiance was much more to the Liberty side, as he’d been a butler at the Haunted Mansion (and a damn great one, too, even if he did still have his stutter then), but Adventureland was still a big source of pride for him.

“Hecklers,” Eddie said cryptically, “and everyone in Adventureland always asks if I’m friends********** with Pan, because he used to meet there. I hate that. Anyways, it’ll be a pretty slow day at PFT, so if you’re doing tours, put any kids in Tiana’s line. It’ll be short, and she’s a sweetheart.”

“Roger roger,” Bill said, saluting him. “You’re a good man, Eddie….shit, I have no idea what your last name is. I’ve only ever read your name off of your nametag.”

“Kaspbrak,” Eddie offered, smiling thinly. “Not that you’ll remember.”

“Probably not,” Bill admitted. “I’ll see you later, though.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Eddie promised, disappearing through the doors of the Mouse.

Running into Eddie had made Bill even later than he was originally planning to be. His coworkers were going to be livid. Hopefully there wasn’t a tour waiting on him.

Sure enough, when he walked into Town Hall, his coordinator flew at him. “What is the matter with you?? You have a tour waiting!”

“Cool,” Bill rolled his eyes and smoothed out his vest. “What’s the situation?”

“A couple of C-list VIPs. Kids from a recent horror film, I think. Seven of them.”

“Girls?” Bill asked, quietly hoping for an affirmative answer.

“Just one,” his coordinator said, glancing over. “Six boys.”

“Fuck.” Bill sighed and slid on his sunglasses. “No Tiana this time, I guess. I’ll start ‘em with Richie instead.”

“I dunno if Richie still works mornings,” said the coordinator, frowning, “he likes that late night CP shift*** garbage. But if he’s here, he’ll probably tip the boat and drown ‘em, so...godspeed, I guess.”

Bill stepped out neatly from behind the customer service booth. He spotted his group right away. They were all about 13 years old, and extremely loud.

“Hey there, kiddos!” he called. “Ready to make some magic?”

The children cheered, and Bill swept them out and towards Adventureland.

----

Miraculously, they made it to the Jungle Cruise in about ten minutes. The group only got distracted by the swords in the Agrabah Bazaar once (and incredibly, it was the girl that was most excited about them), and were less interested in the spitting camels at the Aladdin ride than Bill thought they would be.

He approached the cast member at the head of the Jungle Fastpass line while the kids took a picture with the ride sign for Instagram. “I’ve got a group of fourteen - seven kids and seven moms - and we want to ride Richie’s bote****.”

The cast member rolled his eyes. “Of course, Richie’s bote. It’s a miracle you caught him - usually he doesn’t get scheduled until noon or later, but he’s here today, whining about having to spiel at 'the asscrack of dawn' or whatever. He's basically a bat: blind and nocturnal.”

“Grumpy Richie is good luck for us,” Bill said, smiling. “I was kind of hoping he’d leave the kids in the Cambodian ruins show scene.”

“He just might.” The cast member waved Bill along, and Bill called back to the boys. They snaked their way through the line until they got to the dock, where another cast member in khaki held them back.

“You want Richie, right?” she said, adjusting her wide-brimmed hat. “Good timing. He’ll be rolling in in a sec.”

“Who is Richie?” one of the boys asked, looking at Bill curiously.

Bill shook his head and smiled. The kid really had no idea.

“Aaaaaaaand we’re back,” called a loud voice, saving Bill from actually answering the boy’s question. Bill turned to see Richie steering a boat to the unload dock. His glasses were steamed up from the Florida humidity, and his hat was hanging around his neck by a cord because his hair was too unruly for the hat to stay on his head. In short, he was a SIGHT. The kids gawked at him as he pulled up to the pier and stopped the boat, yammering all the while:

“I hope you’ve had as much fun as I have over these past four weeks...which is to say, none at all, I hope you had no fun, you’ve been terrible. Parting is such sweet sorrow, yadda yadda yadda, get out of my bote. Watch your head. Just kidding, you can’t actually watch your own head. Watch somebody else’s head, I guess.”

Richie’s rambling was sweet music to Bill’s ears. The two of them had been friends since they’d done Ad-Lib orientation together some two years prior. They’d been separated to different attractions - Richie to Pirates of the Caribbean, initially, and Bill to Mansion - but they still managed to make time for each other every now and again, and Bill loved to take his tours down to the Jungle Cruise so he could spend time with his friend.

Bill was justified in bringing his tours down Richie’s way, though. Richie was by far the funniest Skipper in the Jungle. Everyone had been kind of surprised when he’d been sent to Pirates right off the bat - the boy was basically put on Earth to narrate shitty Disney journeys through plastic wilderness, so as soon as he could put in to cross-train*****, he had jumped to Jungle and not looked back.

“Hey Rich,” Bill called, “heard you were giving out free two-week vacations. Got room for fifteen more?”

Richie’s face lit up when he spotted Bill on the dock. “Big Bill, on MY bote? Dreams really do come true! Magic is real, folks, you heard it here first and not from anyone else on this wack vacation property--”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Bill said mildly, unable to hide his giant smile as he moved to hug his friend.

“I can’t believe ‘beep beep’ has lasted the test of time,” Richie grumbled. “I hate the Tomorrowland Speedway.” He turned to the kids. “Okay, single file, sit all the way around, both sides of the crates please or we’ll flip and the gators will eat you. Don’t climb over the crates, you’ll fall and I’ll laugh and then probably get fired. All aboard!”

The kids clambered eagerly on to Richie’s bote, chattering excitedly to themselves. Their mothers followed them with great hesitation and an obvious sense of dread. Bill got in last, and secured a seat next to Richie.

“We all here? Great! If not, oh well.” Richie got the ‘all clear’ from a fellow cast member, and put the boat into gear. “Welcome to the Richie Tozier express, I think you’ll find it river-ting. I know you’re all thrilled to spend the next two weeks with me as your tour guide, but please, hold your applause until we’re past this tribe of hand-eating cannibals….”

Richie’s bote was always an exciting experience, and Bill found himself laughing more than the kids at certain spots. He knew that he shouldn’t be encouraging some of the jokes - Richie was supposed to stick to a script, and he’d almost gotten fired a few times because he couldn’t rein in his giant mouth - but he couldn’t help it. Richie was a comedian, through and through.

After the tour was over, the kids all insisted on getting a picture with Richie, so he graciously climbed out of the boat with them and handed things over to another khaki-clad cast member. (It was his turn to rotate******, anyway.) They took photos on everyone’s iPhone, and then the kids scrambled away to edit and compare, so Bill had a few minutes alone with Richie.

“How goes it, Big Bill?” Richie asked, wiping sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. “Plaid looks good on you, as always.”

“Butler uniform looked better,” Bill said wistfully, tugging at his vest. “I miss Mansion, except for the heavy coat.”

“Anything’s better than khaki shorts,” Richie said sagely. “I’d kill to cross-train at Mansion. They won’t let me, though. They know I’d just sit around and scare kids all day.”

Bill shrugged. “I mean, I used to just let people fall down on the moving belt. I can’t imagine you’d be any worse.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty fucking awful, Billiam.” Richie shoved his hands in his shorts pockets. “Anyways. Um. I have a query.”

“Shoot,” said Bill, eyeing the kids. They were just about ready to go.

“Where’s Cute Character Attendant today?” Richie’s ears had gone scarlet, and not from the sun.

Bill shot him a withering look. “I don’t know every single person that works in MK, Rich.”

“You know this guy. I’ve seen you talking to him.” There was desperation in Richie’s eyes, which was new and disconcerting. “Small, pretty smile, shrill voice. I made an Aladdin joke about the loaf of bread in my pants and he told me that if he had a genie, he would wish me away.”

Bill squinted incredulously. “Eddie?!”

A huge, goofy smile slid across Richie’s face. “Eddie…”

Realization hit Bill like a freight train, and he let out a barking laugh. “You’re the heckler! Eddie said he had a heckler, and it's you!”

“Where is he?” Richie begged. “Bill, please.”

“Goodbye, Richie,” Bill sang, re-joining his group. Behind him, he could all but hear Richie attempting to keep from cursing.

It seemed that he was going to have to pay Eddie a visit after all.

----

As it turned out, the kids were pretty hyped about Tiana even with the fact that she was a girl. Bill was pretty impressed by that - they were a mature bunch of twelve year olds, which was rare and lovely.

Eddie was standing in front of the door to her station in Princess Fairytale Hall with his arms crossed. He looked almost elf-like in the Fantasyland attendant costume, and Bill couldn’t help but wonder at Richie’s taste. Eddie was a good person and quite attractive in his civilian clothes, but he looked ridiculous in his Attendant get-up, and Bill was pretty sure Richie had never seen Eddie in civvies. It made Bill wonder if Richie lusted after the Peter Pans in Entertainment, too.

“How many?” Eddie asked as they drew nearer.

Bill smiled meekly. “Don’t kill me.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped. “Over ten?”

“Fourteen,” Bill said apologetically. “Plus me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Richie?” Bill asked, low enough that the kids and moms in his group couldn’t hear him.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat, and his face immediately went pink. “You’re talking about Jungle Cruise guy, aren’t you.”

“Yeah. We’re old friends.” Bill looked at Eddie seriously. “Is he yanking your chain?”

“He’s so embarrassing,” Eddie complained. “Every time I’m with Aladdin and Jasmine, he stares at me from across Adventureland and shouts dumb jungle pick-up lines. And that’s not even the worst part.”

Bill blinked back at him. “What’s the worst part?”

“The worst part is that I’m into it,” Eddie hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what to do. It’s ridiculous. I have to go check on Tiana.” He disappeared into the next room, and then reappeared. “Yeah, she’s good. She’ll see you now.”

“Do you want me to talk to Richie?” Bill asked, gesturing the rest of his group forward.

“If you do, I’ll kill you,” Eddie threatened, pushing Bill through the door. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Bill repeated, wondering what he could do to help his two idiot friends.

----

The tour pretty quickly went back to occupying the majority of Bill’s thoughts, and so he was able to bring the kids and moms through Fantasyland pretty efficiently. The kids were obviously losing steam heading into Tomorrowland, so he talked to the moms and decided that Space Mountain and Buzz Lightyear would be their two final stops of the day. Monsters Inc would have to wait for another time.

Bill wasn’t a huge roller-coaster guy, and Space Mountain was particularly iffy for him, especially after he’d gotten the opportunity to ride it with the lights on, so he elected to stay outside with some of the moms while the kids and the braver mothers went through the line. One of the mothers was clearly relieved to have gotten him alone, and immediately started flirting with him, which he hated. It happened all the time, and while it was definitely worse when wives flirted with him in front of their husbands, it sucked pretty much across the board. He had no real defense mechanisms: he couldn’t be rude to the guest, or he’d get fired, and he couldn’t tell them he was gay, because then they’d probably tell his supervisor and he’d get fired for sharing too much information. It was a lose-lose situation.

Fortunately, someone else had noticed his plight. A blonde, bearded man in a dress shirt and, bewilderingly, a Disney name tag, came walking towards him from the direction of Astro Orbiter. “Hey, um.” The man read Bill’s nametag, and then straightened up. “Bill. Can we chat for a sec?”

“Sure,” Bill said, pointing to him and mouthing ‘supervisor’ to the moms as he was led away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Bill shoved his hands in his pockets. “Am I in trouble?”

“What?” The man seemed confused. “No, I was just trying to help you out. That mom was really laying it on thick.”

“Oh.” Bill couldn’t find the words to express his gratitude, so he settled for patting the man on the arms. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate it. I thought you were the manager for one of the attractions around here, that’s why I asked…”

The other man laughed. “Oh, no. Well, actually, kind of. In a sense, I manage these rides.”

Bill knitted his eyebrows. “I don’t follow.”

“My name’s Ben Hanscom,” the man introduced himself. “I’m an Imagineer.”

“Oh!” Bill beamed, delighted. “That’s the raddest job on property, I think. What brings you to MK? New developments in Tomorrowland?”

“Just observing,” Ben said, smiling. “I have a lot of Star Wars stuff on my plate, so I wanted to see how guests were reacting to the space-y theming we already have.”

“Smart,” Bill nodded. “What Star Wars stuff?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Ben dropped his voice to a low whisper. Bill almost believed him for a hot second, but Ben ruined the joke by bursting out laughing.

“Dude. That wasn’t even that funny.”

“I know,” Ben wheezed. “I just can’t contain myself.”

“The rest of my group is coming back,” Bill said, pointing at the exit, where the kids were skipping out towards their mothers, “so as much as I’d like to listen to your crazy, I’ve gotta fly. See you around?”

“Definitely,” Ben said, smiling a huge, genuine smile. “Anytime you need to be rescued from crazy moms, you let me know.”

“I sure will,” Bill joked, walking back towards the kids.

“Hey,” Ben called after him, a little hesitantly.

Bill turned around. “Yes?”

“Could you, uh, say hello to the redheaded costumer next time you’re picking up costumes?” Ben asked sheepishly. “Tell her that Tomorrowland Pants Guy says hi.”

Bill had a feeling he knew exactly the person Ben was talking about, but there was no way Ben would know her name, so he decided to skip that particular discussion and just say “Okay”.

It was shaping up to be a weird day for relationships, all in all.

----

The costumer in question happened to be none other than Bill’s best friend and roommate, Beverly.

Bill met Bev just a little while after he’d started working at Disney. She’d worked more on entertainment costumes then, and they’d bonded over their love of the Haunted Mansion attire. They’d dated in those first, more immediate weeks, but quickly realized that their relationship worked better on a platonic level (especially considering that Bill wasn’t super into women in the first place)...which, ultimately, led them all the way up to becoming roommates.

She still worked in costuming, but now, she was in charge of frontline cast******* costumes in the Magic Kingdom. She ran clothing maintenance and tracked down all checked-out costume pieces, and also had the well-deserved reputation of being the nicest girl in all of costuming. After Bill sent the kids off to their hotel, clocked out, and hopped the West Clock bus back to the station, he stopped in to see her, knowing that her shift would be finished soon.

“Please, please, please come to the Boardwalk with me for a while!” Bill found Bev almost immediately upon entering the Costuming building, and wasted no time in launching into a whiny beg.

Bev huffed. “Is this about that guy you saw feeding the birds there literally one time? With the pretty curls and the sneer?”

“Obviously.” Bill unbuttoned his vest, took it off, and stuffed it in his bag. “I’ve gotta find him.”

This was true. Bill had spent his last couple of weeks in pursuit of a man he’d seen on Disney’s Boardwalk some time ago. The man had been angelically beautiful, and despite seeming a little on the stiff side, had been sweet and wonderful to watch when he’d pulled out birdseed and started tossing it to the ibises. Bill had been entranced, and now he was obsessed with finding him again.

“He’s probably not even from around here,” Bev pointed out, disgustedly watching Bill strip to just his undershirt and a pair of running shorts.

“He is. I know he is.” Bill zipped up his backpack full of wrinkled clothing. “And there’s another guy I have my eye on, too, if we can swing into Epcot and stop by some KidCot******** stations.”

“KidCot?” Bev raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask,” Bill said, sliding his bag back on to his shoulders. He’d seen Boardwalk guy about two weeks ago, looking at birds on the lake, and KidCot guy about four days ago, charming kids and mothers alike in Epcot’s Mexico pavilion. They were the two most evocative men Bill had ever seen in his life, and he was determined to track them down.

“Eh, I don’t have other plans.” Bev shrugged. “I guess I’ll come.”

“Fuck yeah,” Bill grinned. “My wingwoman.”

“Never say that again,” Bev said threateningly, and disappeared into the back to clock out.

----

They drove over to the Boardwalk and parked in cast parking, despite the fact that they weren’t Boardwalk cast. Neither of them wanted to pay to park in a guest lot (it was stupid that that was even a thing, now), and Bev figured they’d get away with it, so they decided to make it work.

Curly-haired boy was not on the Yacht and Beach********* side of things, and Bill couldn’t see him across the way. That was discouraging, but he didn’t want to make Bev feel they’d come for nothing, so Bill suggested that they walk the loop for a minute.

“Oh, by the way,” he remembered somewhere over by the Abracadabar, “some guy told me to say hey to you. Something about Tomorrowland pants.”

Bev frowned. “I’m not friends with any Tomorrowland cast.”

“He wasn’t Tomorrowland cast,” Bill clarified, “he was an imagineer. Something about Star Wars….but then, I mean, I guess they’re all kinda doing Star Wars at this point.”

Bev thought for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “Oh, shoot, what was his name. He was so sweet. Uh. Bert? Starts with a ‘B’.”

“Ben,” Bill remembered, smiling at the memory of the bearded guy who laughed at himself. “Imagineer Ben.”

“Ben!” Bev’s face was alight with excitement. “SO cute. He came in to see what the Tomorrowland folks were wearing, and then he stuck around and talked to me about sewing and Disney’s Hercules. What a cool cat.”

“He’s got a little crush on you, I think,” Bill teased.

“I’ve got a little crush back,” Bev responded without missing a beat. “Shit, I’ll ask him out myself if I ever see him again. He was so much fun.”

“That’s a pretty big ‘if’,” Bill reminded her gently.

“Yeah.” Bev kicked at a rock as they passed ESPNZone. “For you, too, though. I notice we haven’t found your bird boy yet.”

Bill sighed, gazing sadly across the little man-made lake. The sun was setting on the far end, and it would have been almost perfectly picturesque if the giant statues from the Swan and Dolphin resorts hadn’t been silhouetted against the sky. “I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s still here somewhere, Bev. Like, the universe keeps bringing me back here to find him, and one of these days, he’s going to be sitting on the steps outside the Yacht Club with a little plastic bag of birdseed again.”

Bev gave him a pitying look. “Maybe, honey. Maybe. We’re by the side entrance to Epcot; do you wanna try and find Kidcot guy instead?”

Bill did also really want to try and find Kidcot guy, but he couldn’t give up on curly-haired bird boy so easily. “One more lap, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart.” Bev was, as always, inhumanly patient, and took his hand as they started on their second loop.

There were more people out on the Boardwalk now than there were when Bev and Bill had first arrived. It appeared to be prime time for people to be leaving the parks and coming back to their hotels to swim or change for dinner.

“They seem nice,” Bev giggled, gesturing to a set of parents that were obviously minutes away from snapping and screaming at their children.

Bill groaned. “Bev, thank your lucky stars that you don’t have to deal with guests, ever.”

“I do,” she replied easily, “every day.”

A loud, officious voice cut through the crowd as they passed the Yacht and Beach pool and approached the entrance to the Yacht Club. Bill felt his face contort into a scowl as he looked for the perpetrator.

“Too loud, asshole, too loud,” he muttered, feeling like a crotchety Mansion cast member again.

“It’s not my fault I couldn’t change my shift, dickhead,” the voice snapped. “I’m sorry you had to work in the morning, but honestly--no, your normal shift is batshit crazy, who the fuck goes in to work at 2pm? And I don’t care that you didn’t get to see….whoever this kid is. Mine didn’t come today either. Bad day all around. ...what? Oh, go fuck yourself.”

As abruptly as it had began, the voice stopped. Bill assumed that he’d hung up on whoever he was talking to. Curious, he looked around, trying to find someone who both looked angry and was shoving their phone back in their pocket.

In the whole post-pool area, there was only one person who matched both of those descriptors.

He also happened to have amber, springy hair.

Bill stopped short.

“Are you okay?” Bev asked, having almost walked into him. “Is something…?” She followed Bill’s line of vision, and then gasped. “Oh my God. That’s him, isn’t it? Something’s telling me that that’s him.”

Bill nodded weakly, and before he knew it, Bev was dragging him towards the beautiful stranger.

“What the fuck, Bev?” Bill yanked back on his hand, but she was holding firm. “I’m not ready to talk to him! Let me g---”

The curly-haired boy looked up. He was a lot prettier up close - almost statuesque - and holding a bag full of clothes, this time, instead of a Ziploc full of birdseed.

He also, jarringly, did not look surprised to see Bill.

“Oh,” he said, looking Bill up and down. “It’s you.”

In later re-tellings of the story, Bill blamed his lack of sleep and his dizzying tour group for what happened next, but the truth of it was that the sheer shock of it all was far too much.

He passed out, right onto the Yacht Club steps.

------

NOTES

irl Richie would have been fired from Jungle by now but we can sit here and pretend

*West Clock Bus - to preserve the integrity/secrecy of the tunnels, there is a bus that takes Cast Members from Magic Kingdom cast parking to the mouth of the tunnels. It is impossible to drive and stumble upon the tunnels.

**Getting a point - you clock in on a computer, so it knows you're late. lateness & other offenses of the like earn you points on your employee permanent record. 3 points earn you a talking to from a supervisor, more than that is Bad News

***CP Shift - CP = college program. College kids do internships at WDW that are basically just slave labor (that's how I worked there!) & they give them all the late-night graveyard shifts.

****Bote - that's just what they call boats at the World Famous Jungle Cruise. I genuinely don't know why.

*****Cross-train - as an attractions cast member, you can be trained at any attraction in your "zone" (so: Fantasyland, Adventureland/Liberty Square, in Epcot there's Future World East/West, etc.) but you have to apply to be trained, so...cross-training

******Rotate - every 45 minutes, attractions cast members rotate positions. this is mostly to give CMs some time in the air conditioning

*******Frontline cast - the CMs you interact with when you go into the park. There are lots of others (coordinators, managers, costumers, etc.) that you don't see.

********KidCot - stations for kids around Epcot Center's World Showcase

*********Yacht & Beach Club - two resorts in the Boardwalk area of WDW. you can walk to Epcot and boat to Studios from there.

**********"Friends" with a character - WDW lingo for acting as that character. EX: if I'm hanging out with my friend Elsa in Epcot's Norway pavilion today, then I'm gonna be the Elsa in Norway. Done to maintain the illusion with small children.

thanks for coming to my WDW ted talk, now enjoy some crazy gays

#reddie #bill/mike/stan #mike hanlon/bill denbrough/stanley uris #benverly #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #stanley uris #mike hanlon #losers club #it 2017 #stephen king's it #disney world AU #forgive me father for i have sinned #it has been 3 years since i have exposed details of my former workplace #reddie fanfic

144 notes · View notes

glitteringvoid-blog · 6 years

Text

The Sword and the Silverware

A friend of mine tagged me in this prompt on Facebook, so I figured I’d see what I could accomplish in ~1.5hrs. Here’s the results (pic related)

I didn’t know why Mom was making such a big deal out of this. Everyone turns sixteen once in their lives. Well, I guess, except for the people who don’t make it to sixteen. That’s morbid. Whatever.

But, also, what’s the sense in having a fancy dinner for me when I have to set the table? Wow, what a big day. Here I am, sixteen and everything, setting the dining room table.

I didn’t even realize people had silverware anymore. What year is this? Who are we trying to impress? It’s just my usual family. The old people will be talking and us kids will be Snapchatting. No one cares how fancy the forks are. I’m probably going to have to clean them, too. Why couldn’t we just, I dunno, go out to dinner?

Table mostly set, I go rooting through one of the cabinets for the old silverware. I don’t really know what I’m looking for, just that there is a box, somewhere, in with all this crap, that’s full of forks and knives and spoons that I’ve never seen before.

Crap. Doesn’t silver tarnish? Will I have to clean this stuff before we use it, then clean it again after we use it?

I groan. My mom shouts from elsewhere in the house to stop whining and keep working. How did she even hear me?

I sift through some more old crap and finally find a box. It isn’t very deep, but it is long and wide. Pretty much what I’d expect silverware would be kept in.

I try to open it, but it’s locked. Seriously? Come on. Frustrated, I give it another shot. Something makes a springing sound and the box comes open. Oops. I mean, I hope I didn’t break it, but I’m glad it’s open.

The box is, in fact, full of silverware. Yay. It’s laid out in two layers within the box. The top layer has all the normal stuff. Knives, forks, spoons, you get it. I peek at the second layer and there’s all the other stuff people don’t usually care about. Junk like salad forks, dessert forks, soup spoons. I start tossing the normal cutlery onto the table. Because, honestly, I don’t know where things are supposed to go, but I do know that no one in my family has ever been civilized enough to use one fork for their salad and then a different one for the rest of their dinner. I kinda get the dessert fork thing, though.

Everything laid out, I survey my work. As dumb as I think this is, I didn’t want to have to spend any more time on it, and hopefully if my mom has issues she’ll just fix it herself.

I do notice that we’ve got a butter dish out (no butter yet, that’s not coming out until closer to dinner) and figure there is such a thing as a butter knife. May as well put that out, too.

I go back into the little box and lift the first tray, finding a weirdly shaped knife in with all the other unnecessary tiny forks and extra-circular spoons. I go for the knife (gotta be the butter knife) but it won’t come out of the little indent it was resting in. Strange. Everything else came out of the box just fine. The indents kept the stuff in place, but, it wasn’t like it held anything down. And the box was covered in this plushy wannabe-velvet fabric, so it’s not like it was anything the metal would, what, stick to?

Maybe there was like a magnet or something on the other side. Wait. Is silver magnetic?

With a huff I give the knife another yank and it comes flying out of the groove. I hadn’t realized I had put so much force into pulling the thing out, and the box with the rest of the silverware flings out of my hand, cutlery clattering to the floor. I hear shouting from my mom upstairs and let out a heavy sigh, dropping to my knees as I start picking things up.

The butter knife is still in my hand. I never dropped that.

Everything recovered, I put the knife on the butter dish and put the box away. I notice that the knife definitely seems shinier than everything else. Even when Mom and I put food out on the table, light kept glinting off of it and catching my eye. None of the regular knives did that.

My mom comes around from the kitchen with a basket of bread and a stick of still-wrapped-up butter. I’ve never seen this basket before. The bread looks good.

She plunks the basket down on the table with about as much grace as I had set the thing. Half-unwrapping the butter, she holds the stick in one hand and reaches out to move the butter knife that I had left just sitting there on the dish. She grabs the handle but it doesn’t move. I watch this happen, and my mom pulls at the knife again, but it doesn’t budge from the dish.

My mom lets out a string of frazzled, frustrated expletives directed at the butter knife. I know she’s stressed about dinner coming out good for everyone. This is another reason we should’ve just gone out to eat.

I reach out and effortlessly swat the butter knife out of the way. My mom doesn’t seem too fazed by this, mumbling about what else has to be accomplished as she walks back to the kitchen.

Soon the relatives show up. There’s a bustle as the grandparents come in, one couple at a time, then my aunt and uncle with my cousin. People are talking before dinner and my cousin is looking at her phone. Every time I look at mine, my mom scolds me and tells me to socialize. With whom, Mom?

We sit down at the table and my mom forces me to take the head while my dad sits across from me on the other end. It feels weird being at the head of the table. I feel exposed and like all attention is on me. I don’t like it but my mom won’t let me move. She’s sitting there to my left and my attached-to-her-phone cousin is on my right.

We say grace, which is laughable and honestly just for show. Who even says grace anymore?

Food and plates get passed around. My mom loads my plate up for me because, apparently, I’m sixteen now but can’t put my own mashed potatoes and stuff on my plate. Gotta make sure I still get all my veggies, too, you know?

When I get the chance I snag a piece of bread and the butter dish. That’s really what I care about. I put the bread down on my plate and attempt to slice a pad of butter. I know the butter has been sitting out a bit, so I don’t put much effort in to taking a chunk. This information is important because… well, I mean, it’s just butter, right?

I push the knife into the butter and to my horror, the blade passes clean through the butter… and the butter dish… and the tablecloth… and by the time I realize something weird is happening and pull back, the butter knife is wedged in the wood of the table.

I’m shocked, and look around nervously. I hope no one noticed.

Yanking back on the knife, the sliced-in-half butter dish clatters loudly and my mom snaps her attention to me, the you’re-in-trouble look blazing in her eyes.

I start to tell her I don’t know what happened, I really don’t. She immediately begins to holler something about the age of the table, the quality of the table cloth, the sentimentality of the stupid butter dish. How could I do such a thing? As she shouts, all attention is on me. Except for my cousin, who is looking at her phone, all eyes have turned to me.

And I’m just sitting there, awkwardly holding the butter knife with a misshapen hunk of butter sliding down the blade.

In the silence that surrounded my mom’s shrieking, I did the only thing I could do: I slowly begin to butter my bread. I’m hungry, okay?

As I press the knife into the bread, the same thing happens again: as if passing through… warm butter… the knife goes straight through the bread, the plate, the cloth, the table. This time the blade goes even further in the wood, and my mom is yelling even louder about everything I just ruined.

I start to defend myself in a useless whine, saying that it’s just a butter knife, it’s not my fault it’s cutting this stuff, what’s this knife even made of, anyway?

My mom snatches my wrist in an attempt to get the knife from me. I might have mumbled something about how I wasn’t done buttering my bread. When my mom forces my hand open and wraps her fingers around the handle, I give up, withdrawing my hand from the knife.

Now holding the full weight of the knife (what do butter knives weigh, like a few ounces?), my mom’s closed fist thuds down atop the table. She exclaims something about the heaviness of the knife and now everyone’s looking at her instead. I sarcastically suggest that she try to cut something, my intention being to prove that what I had done had happened by accident. My mom, hand pinned to the table under the force of the butter knife, hisses something about how she’ll cut me if I don’t stop what I’m doing.

I huff and try to grab the knife back from her, figuring I could help her, since, you know, apparently the knife is too heavy. As I effortlessly pick the thing up, the blade glimmers just as it had when I had first put it on the table.

Everyone gasps, people cover their eyes, even my cousin screws her lids shut and separates one hand from her phone, pausing her fervent texting just long enough to rub her eyes. I look around, confused. Sure the thing is shiny, but come on, it’s not that shiny.

A clamour rises up around me as people begin shouting about this knife. I pick my bread up and start eating, shrugging casually as I hand the knife off to my uncle, who demanded to see the thing. His hand slams to the table the same as my mom’s, and as everyone’s confusion peaks, I figure I’ll keep eating. It’s my party. I’ll ignore you all and eat the food I helped make if I want to.

Even my cousin has looked up from her phone, watching my uncle struggle with the handle of the blade as he manages to tip the thing out of his hand. As it slides out of his outstretched palm, the knife daintily, almost mockingly, plops down on the tablecloth as if it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Everyone is staring at the thing and I start picking at my green beans. Why didn’t we go out to dinner?

I reach in front of my cousin and scoop the knife back up. Maybe now I was feeling a little bit of a boost, thanks to the astonishment of my audience, and I ever-so-gingerly pressed the blade of the knife into the tip of my finger.

Nothing. It didn’t cut me at all. Just a little indent remained where I had pushed with increasing force, at first genuinely curious but then daring the blade to cut me.

With a slight frown and a shrug, I haul off and stab the thing into the table. My mom picks up with the shrieking again, and everyone is yelling at me to stop. I cringe and make the excuse that I just wanted to know, just wanted to see if it would keep cutting things, but no one seemed to listen.

I roll my eyes and inform my mom that I’m going to get a regular butter knife. Standing up, the chair loudly scraping the floor while I pushed up off the table jostling the whole thing, I maintain everyone’s attention as I take the little knife into the kitchen.

I think about putting it right back in the silverware box, but figure the polite thing to do was to wash the thing first. I go to the sink and try to run the blade under the water, but the water just sort of avoids the blade. Ever hold something staticky up to running tap water? And the water bends and gets pushed away by the… whatever static stuff is going on there? That’s what it did around the blade. At a loss, but wanting to wipe the knife clean of all the butter and… table-bits, I grab a dish towel and wipe it off, careful to avoid the edge of the blade. There were still little cuts in the cloth when I had finished, though.

Still under the gaze of most of my family, I return to the cabinet, making sure to hold the blade in one hand so it wouldn’t ruin anything else. Retrieving the box, I replace the butter knife in its perfectly sized little groove and just kind of stare at it for a second. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to do anything… weird. Or, you know, anything else weird. But it didn’t. It just sat there, shiny as ever.

Before returning to the dining room, I rifle through a drawer and produce a small-ish knife that looks enough like a freakin’ butter knife. Heading back to the table, I stand at the head and, before sitting down, press the blade of this knife into the tablecloth, despite objections from my mom.

When the knife doesn’t do any damage, I sit down with a huff, explaining that I was just checking, and this knife should work. I hand it off to my mom who, now actually capable of holding the thing, carefully helps herself to a pad of butter. When nothing odd happens, I give her a slice of bread, then ask her where another butter dish is, since we should probably throw this one out. She meekly utters the directions for another butter dish (yeah, that’s right, apparently people have more than one butter dish), and I stand up again to go get it.

With the busted butter dish gone and a normal butter knife in use, everyone eats in silence. Soon we all resumed normal conversation, my cousin turned back to her phone, and the cuts in the table cloth were decidedly ignored. And I mean, if that’s not how a healthy family copes with their issues, then I don’t know what is.

#story #short story #writing prompt #original #original story #excalibur #sword and the stone

1 note · View note

wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 7 years

Note

Do you have any just happy fluffy (I don't mind if smutty or nah) established relationship sterek just nice and derek is happy yay pls

AND

Anonymous said:Hey so I just had a really crappy prom experience so I could use some fics, can you give me some established fics with sterek? An update maybe? Thank you you guys really helped me get through this.

I’m sorry about your prom. But hopefully this fluffy list will help. And here’s the tag for more.

Ephemeral by thegirlgrey

(1/1 I 2,100 I Teen)

Stiles has a weird reaction to his anesthesia. He wakes up with temporary amnesia. The resulting video gets 1 million hits on YouTube in 6 hours. (Beyoncé can suck it.)

Ashes, Ashes by ShanaStoryteller

(1/1 I 2,699 I Teen)

The Sheriff gets a call at work - someone's tried to burn down his home with his son inside.

"I thought of you coming here, and finding me dead, of another burnt out husk of a body, something else fire has stolen from you, of you having nothing left to grasp but ashes," John can't even call that a whimper, it's clearly a whine as Derek's hands tighten against Stile's hips, as if his boy will shudder to dust at the mere mention of the possibility unless Derek's hands can hold him into one piece, "and that thought was worse than dying."

boys will be boys by HalfFizzbin

(1/1 I 1,309 I General)

Schedule a parent-teacher conference with the Hales at your own risk.

Let me take care of you by LillianDeLooney

(1/1 I 3,434 I Mature)

Stiles is six months pregnant with Derek's babies when his mate gets home as a teenager, somehow having gotten de-aged again. Their mate bond is still strong, however, and all Derek wants to do is take care of Stiles...

When the Sky Fills With Rain by BarlowGirl

(1/1 I 5,205 I Explicit)

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You know I can shop for myself, right?”

“I know you can,” Stiles said. “But I don’t think you will. So we’re gonna go to Walmart and get you a couple packs of tank tops ’cause you look really hot in those and some more t-shirts and Henleys and basically whatever you need, and I’m going to stare at you and maybe drool a little while you try them on. And then we can go to wherever you usually buy jeans and I’m going to stare at your ass while you try those on.”

“Good to know,” Derek said dryly.

Stiles grinned. “Yup. And then you can wash them in my washing machine and leave them on my couch until they stop smelling like strangers and smell like us.”

Derek absolutely did not turn red.

Or: 5 Times Stiles Took Care of Derek and One Time Derek Took Care of Stiles.

When Nothing Else Works by hannah_baker

(1/1 I 5,915 I Teen)

Sheriff Stilinski is slowly and begrudgingly accepting the fact that werewolves exist, regular bad things still do happen sometimes, and his son may or may not be dating Derek Hale behind his back.

Or, the one where having Derek Hale in his bed is the only way Stiles can get to sleep. Much to his father's annoyance.

Puppy Separation Anxiety by KaliopeShipsIt

(2/2 I 9,188 I General)

Derek and Stiles' three year old daughter is completely fine with Derek dropping her off at Pre-K, but has a separation anxiety induced meltdown every time Stiles does.

Naturally, Derek jumps to conclusions that couldn't be farther from the truth if he'd tried.

The One with the Kiss Cam by nerdfightingwhovian

(1/1 I 9,224 I Teen)

While at a hockey game, which was totally Stiles's idea, the cameramen behind the Kiss Cam think Erica and Stiles are together. Derek, right next to Stiles, has to intervene on the behalf of his mate.

Also, there might or might not be a homophobic couple who start screaming at our werewolfy hero. He also might or might not give them the cold Hale stare.

Excerpt:"We were all wondering if we could go see a hockey game. Erica and I really love to watch hockey, and Boyd finds it fascinating, mainly because it makes Erica blood thirsty, and their sex life is really weird. And Danny likes it and so does Kira, and she's single and ready to mingle after her last boyfriend turned out to be less than ideal. Isaac is pretty much interested in anything that will guarantee him getting laid. And Scott and Allison just want to use the cold rink as an excuse to cuddle. And Lydia will jump at any chance to do more match and basically show off her brain to everyone within hearing distance.""What about Jackson.""Fuck Jackson." And yeah, Derek should have expected that.

you break the mountain down by runphoebe

(1/1 I 10,655 I Explicit)

Stiles is pretty sure that it’s not normal to have a sexual awakening six years into a relationship. He’s pretty sure that’s supposed to happen at the beginning and not, you know, after you already have a mortgage together.

Stiles and Derek have been together for six years when Stiles graduates from college and moves back to Beacon Hills.

This Is Your Life, Derek Hale! by PolarisTheYoungWolf

(7/7 I 23,699 I Explicit)

I need more de-aged Derek and pregnant mate Stiles! Can you imagine de-aged teen Derek being told he has a family of his own? Like the baby(babies) are born and he's like that for like...a weekend or maybe even a week or longer. And it's just overwhelming and awesome and funny and teendaddy Derek trying to also be a doting husband/mate and maybe they have to go out...because the babies have chickenpox and they need the pink lotion to help with the itching(Do werewolves get chicken pox? Maybe one of the babies is human and got it in case Were's can't?) and Derek is torn from staying with his pups and getting something that will help their recovery? I dunno...just...de-aged daddy Derek that's mates with Stiles is TOO cute an image!!!!

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too by MereLoup

(4/4 I 82,981 I Explicit)

Derek spent too much time, walking amongst the ashes of his life and refusing to move on into the future; refusing to move past the anguish. But somewhere along the way he found purpose, rebuilt this house, found his mate, and he realized that this didn’t have to be the end, that he could continue the legacy of the Hale pack and carry on the traditions and rebuild his life. And now, in this house, with his pack, he was beginning the next generation of the Hale Pack with the most incredible mate he could have ever dreamed of.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #established relationship #fluff #anon #Anonymous

357 notes · View notes

theeclecticfestivalbarbaria-blog · 6 years

Text

Complete Body system.

In between some menacing-looking equipment and also those icy, take-no-prisoners stares, that is actually no surprise that health clubs could slash high up on the intimidation range. I have not a problem along with the meals safety element from GM crops but there is a recognized issue with thus phoned contaminants, GM Canola plants have been located to cross cross-pollinate along with non GM. Eluding standards from the American Academy from Pediatrics and American College of Athletics Medicine, natural food outlets are recommending a sports supplement to minor consumers. So a new initiative is actually setting out to raise understanding concerning the impressive benefits sports may have for those along with psychological health and wellness problems. While he and other inmates were provided factors like a news of grits for morning meal, a bologna sandwich for lunch time and a hen lower leg for supper, that's light for a huge professional sportsmen. Clean dietary food is acquiring more expensive about made foods. Because these sorts of cocktails are used routinely to sustain instruction for group and endurance sporting activities additionally supports the debate for certainly not consuming booze in close proximity to instruction. Colleague Instructor Tim Crowe, a practicing diet professional as well as analyst in nourishment at Deakin Educational institution, claimed the raw food items diet plan was actually definitely far healthier than the average Australian diet regimen. Now along with routine treatment in order to help manage his condition, Mickelson manages to compete at cream of the crop level in the sport he really loves. Fitbit systems may also hook up as well as gain symbols with friends to discuss or even complete for on-going incentive. Tons of folks emailed me proposing this and that coconut oil, shea butter, odds and ends cream, this or that food and so on So far this's been actually made use of in professional sporting activities games consisting of the NFL and NHL as well as the United States armed force, where that's more important to keep focused and also help make easy selections. The women typically aren't any kind of smaller though, making it a headache to locate bras that match. After getting back property (without more health center dietetics team to ready my meals and as a result of my leg I could not navigate or even do much) I began buying just what was actually quick and easy: pizzas as well as mandarin meals that possessed lots of rice. The activity has actually given that advanced right into a Globe Championships Tub Race paired with a four-day long Marine Festivity devoted to all water sports. When I point out that I offered him the selection at age 11 whether to participate in sports or certainly not ... is actually one from reprehension, the appearances I receive coming from various other moms. This was an action to the nationwide food items planning that was actually a federal plan documentation which we disagreed with given that that was quite corporate related. This's thus accurate and the damaging misanthrope comments. these individuals need to get a life.I know I'm healthy although I am actually not where I want to correct now yet our experts r all on our very own fitness journeys.I adore the comment one measurements performs not fit" all. Jobs in the USA that have actually strained receiving girls involved in particular sporting activities are actually making use of the exact same technique as projects in Burkina Faso as well as Brazil, to recognize, train as well as cultivate additional female coaches as a method of far better supporting females' engagement in their sporting activities tasks. According to Gizmodo, these capacities offered the WEB LINK a leg up on competition products like the Nike Fuelband, Jawbone Up, and Fitbit One. Total Suits credit report families for all the energy produced through their panels, and also demand all utilization separately. Open your physical body's exercise hereditary account as well as improve your workout to satisfy you, simply you. Tracking your regular meals and net carbohydrate consumption will definitely offer you an honest photo regarding just what you are actually consuming. I don't have a lot fortune with food promos however it sure aids with the rest of the cleaning and laundry items, fodder. Today I was actually shipping deals and also preparing yourself for my torso show at Athletics Nightclub LA in midtown San Francisco. I perform day 10 from my diet until now as well as I dunno if I have actually created any progress but (I possess no scale), nonetheless, I have a set of pants I want to suit (3 dimensions to small for me) as my target I establish myself. I use several hats: holistic nutritionist, writer, publisher, meals blog writer, recipe developer, avocado fan. Pitch back slightly as you lift best leg along with best knee bent as well as bring right arm joint to best leg, involving obliques as you twist upper torso to the right. As well as while Walmart gives away a considerable amount of unsold meals to charitable organization, firm policy clubs workers coming from taking unsold meals property, Gardner said. If http://megfoghatatlanszepseg.info and also veggies are actually the only food that appeals to you just before a jog, these are actually the absolute most absorbable and also the lowest in thread information: Zucchini, tomatoes, olives, grapes, and also grapefruit. Since they were remarkable historic wonderful players, and our company possessed excellent players at the leading of the video game at that point who possibly would have controlled the sport in any type of period through the means. However at that point I inform all of them concerning all the fantastic food items I eat now and just how excellent this tastes when this is actually certainly not covered in pet extracts! The bag is actually charming, efficient and also comes comprehensive with numerous wallets so they can easily save all their private impacts. Your underwear bra measurements as well as sporting activities breast support measurements are actually equivalent, which suggests that if you recognize what you use in underwear, you must have the capacity to easily identify your sporting activities bra dimension," Rebecca duRivage-Jacobs informed us. She's the associate line of product manager for Moving Convenience, a label that provides alpha dimensions (XS - XL) and also cup and band dimension (30-44 and cup sizes A-F) for a variety of measurements that suit all body types. This diet regimen combines both DASH as well as the Mediterranean diet regimen, while putting emphasis on eating off 10 brain-healthy food items groups. Cases helped make on food items tags are actually assisted through a code of practice, so the same case on a different food items possesses the very same meaning. He describes a neighborhood cook, Rosetta, for who food is actually the bodily embodiment from prayer.

0 notes